#*slams door and does a little twirl to leave* GOOD DAY!
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𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐『••✎••』
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.1 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞
The cookie smell wafted welcomingly into her nose as she pulls open the oven door, The chocolate chips were plentiful, and she could see it was hot enough that it would practically melt over your tastebuds. She smiles, slipping on an oven mitt before taking the pan out.
What was supposed to be a day of tears and emotional eating turned into a productive day of baking and dressing herself nicer than she even had for school, and that was because she had tried to dress to impress Eddie. The thought saddened her a little, but she remembered Steve and the night he had planned for them and it didn’t hurt so much anymore.
While the cookies cooled, she removed her apron and went to grab some tupperware to fit it in before she pulled the phone off the receiver and dialed. It rang for just a minute before someone picked up.
It was the typical pizza joint greeting until, “this is Gareth, what can I get started for you today?”
Her mouth ran dry and she suddenly lost the ability to speak. Gareth was there when Eddie had started talking about her and much like the other Hellfire club members aside from Dustin and Mike, he didn’t jump to her defense. Would he recognize her voice? How embarrassing would that be? Should she just play stupid?
“Hel-” She quickly slams the receiver back down and picks it up, dialing a different number.
“Harrington residence!” Steve sings.
“I need to know if this is progress or not,” she starts, twirling the cord between her fingers. “Say Eddie’s friend works at the only pizza place Hawkins has, is hanging up before saying anything a good or bad thing?”
“Well, it’s not great,” Steve said. “But A for effort, love, no worries! You’ll get better. Comes with time, everything is still a little fresh, I mean it happened just today at lunch.”
She nods in agreement, glad she once again turned to Steve with this.
“Man, does this mean I’m not getting my Sausage Lovers’ Pizza?” he complains jokingly.
“In short of you making the call and requesting only non-Hellfire Club members deliver it, probably not,” she says, stretching the phone as far as it could go so she could start carefully placing the cookies into the tupperware, still hot and soft in her hands.
“I can make it happen, just get over here already,” Steve groans.
“Okay, okay, I’ll only be a minute. See you there,” she huffs, hanging up the phone and placing the plastic top onto the container. With her cookies safe and secure, she turns off the oven and gives her kitchen a once over before retrieving her car keys and leaving.
The night was still very young, the sun hadn’t even disappeared yet, painting Hawkins in a heavenly orange glow. Her car was in its typical place parked at the far end of her lawn. She opens the door and places the cookies down before hoisting herself up into the driver’s seat.
Pulling out of her drive, she takes the familiar route to Steve’s home, one hand on the wheel and the other keeping the tupperware steady.
Things tonight were going pretty good thus far. She’d been trying to keep her mind off of Eddie and all the awful things he’d said at lunch, knowing if she’d dwell on it it’d just make her feel worse. She didn’t wanna focus on that, she wanted to think about the night ahead of her that she’d get to spend with one of her best friends. Eating junk food and watching all the silly movies he liked. That sounded a great deal better.
Her old car sputtered and coughed as she ascended the lean hill that led up to Steve’s house, still perched at the top with the same intimidating hedges, walls, and the glow of his swimming pool he still neglected to properly take care of. Even still, it’s a welcoming sight.
She parks off the driveway, not wanting to block him or his parents from coming in and out, switching off the car and taking the container of cookies up towards the front doors.
She doesn’t get the chance to knock before Steve opens it, grinning down at her.
“My, my, my, what brings you here?” he asks.
“You gonna invite me in or let me freeze on your doorstep?” she sniggers. He clears his throat and holds his hand out expectantly. Rolling her eyes, she shoves the container into his chest and pushes past him.
“I was actually offering you a hand inside, jerk!” he calls over his shoulder. He shuts the door and follows her into the living room where the fire was already going and he had the movie paused on the TV. Blankets were piled haphazardly on the cushions along with two pillows from his bed from upstairs and the coffee table was pulled suspiciously closer. She can’t help but smile. He knew her legs couldn’t stretch as far as his to reach it, so he’d adjusted it without telling her.
“Wow, you really go all out for a casual movie night with your friend,” she says, turning back to him. He blushes in embarrassment, but he still smiles. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, Steve, honestly.”
“Give me a break, I needed the reason to strip my bed. Bed bugs,” he says dramatically, lifting the comforter and holding it threateningly towards her. She yelps and jumps out of the way. He starts laughing. “No, but...look, I wanted you to forget everything that happened earlier today. Show you how you should be treated, even if it’s just by little ‘ol me.”
Her heart swelled. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head as if to tell her not to worry about it. He takes the cookie container and places it on the coffee table, walking around and flicking the light switches so the only thing keeping their faces illuminated was his abnormally big television screen his father swung for two Christmases ago.
“The pizza should be here any minute,” he says conversationally as he goes to finally sit on the couch. He pats the spot beside him invitingly. “I don’t wanna have to pause the movie again, so pop a squat and entertain me for a little, would ya?”
She nods and goes to sit down, instantly raveling herself up in his comforter. It smelled like him, and she was sure if she accidentally nodded off she’d get a mouthful of Steve Harrington’s glorious hairs plucked off his head from tossing and turning throughout the night.
“What movies you gonna burden me with tonight?”
“Bold talk for someone who didn’t have a hand in sneaking them out under Keith’s careful watch with those nifty security cameras he’s got installed.” Steve said. “Nothin’ special, though. Figured I’d appeal to your frilly girly senses, managed to snag Sixteen Candles and Footloose. But, just to clear my eyes at the end, I also nabbed Gremlins.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey, I gave you Molly Ringwald and Kevin Bacon, gimme a little leeway.”
“Fair enough.”
Steve pats her head, turning so she’d face him. “How you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she says defensively. He shakes his head, throwing an arm over the back of the couch and sneakily sliding his hand over her shoulders to tug her into his side. She doesn’t reject the contact. The closeness actually felt a little nice. He smelled like the video store. That was a strange thing to say, but Family Video did have a pretty distinctive aroma.
“He’s a dick,” Steve said again. “He doesn’t know great you are. And once he realizes it’s gonna be too late. You’re not boring, otherwise I wouldn’t have you here with me. Understand?” She nods and he kisses the crown of her head. “Stop getting mad over people who don’t have any kind of control over your life, alright? Especially not Eddie Munson.”
“Hard not to. God, it just sounds so pathetic. I want someone to be crazy for me, to want to constantly talk to me or think about me or wondering what I’m doing. And...I really wanted it to be Eddie for some reason. And there’s always wishful thinking, you know? Like you just hope and that’s enough because there’s just certain things you don’t wanna find out. And then...I did. I looked behind the curtain,” she rambled.
Steve doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Really, she didn’t even know if she wanted him to add his two cents. That was just her flaunting her wounds like she was best at. Unfortunately for Steve, he was really easy to unload on because she knew he’d still be there after. It’s what made him so great.
“Is it narcissism? Or just loneliness?”
“Being human,” Steve gives the hidden third answer. “I feel shitty that he made you feel shitty.”
“Why?”
“Because you shouldn’t be feeling shitty at all. Of all people, you know?” Steve said with a shrug. “It just surprises me someone like him could do this to someone like you.”
“Someone like him?”
“Come on, don’t make me say it,” Steve scoffs.
“Well no...you brought it up, Steve, just tell me.”
“Well, Munson’s pretty...out there. I remember when I was in school, he’d just always be makin’ a complete fool of himself or he’d be mixing it up with the wrong crowds because he’s into that drug shit. He sold to me once, you know? But it was just weed.” Steve said. “When you told me you were seeing him I didn’t really believe it at first. That someone like him...could win over someone like you. It just didn’t make any sense. So the fact you’re taking this so hard, it’s...a little daunting.”
She didn’t know how to take that. Steve was clearly telling her she was way out of Eddie’s league and his words shouldn’t be bringing her as far down as they were. But that thought kind of angered her. She didn’t believe in leagues. She supposed the idea of it was just the remnants of King Steve still clinging to his subconscious, that some people were capable of attracting some people and not others. Or however they worked.
At the same time it was strangely comforting that he saw her this way, that...she was this unattainable being that someone like Eddie goddamn Munson could possibly think she was less than.
Before she could try to find the words to explain that to Steve, the doorbell rang. The pizza was here.
“I’ll get it,” Steve says softly.
For the rest of the night, they didn’t talk about Eddie again. She never got to tell him how she felt about his view on Eddie Munson and how he thought his words should(or, in her case, shouldn’t) affect her. Maybe that was a good thing. It seemed like whatever negative feeling about herself that she had, he had a way to counter it.
Nevertheless, she did have a really good time. Steve had kept things relatively normal, he made her laugh, he dropped a piece of pizza on the couch and she had to watch while trying not to laugh as he furiously dabbed it with one of his mom’s good towels.
He really did make her forget. Steve was a friend, a real friend to her tonight.
By now they were lounging, back to cable TV as she was slowly being lulled to sleep by the repetitive commercials and their incessant ramblings as they tried to get bored housewives to buy their products. Then Steve’s phone rang, startling them both into sudden consciousness.
“What the hell?” he grunts, stumbling to his feet. He was a little unsteady, having just been asleep. She reaches forward and stands him upright.
He makes it to the phone and practically rips it off the receiver.
“Harrington resi...” he trails off into a yawn. “Harrington residence....yeah....yeah, she’s here. Why? ...So? ....Relax, Henderson, I’ll just...Jesus.” He turns to her. “It’s for you!”
Confused, she gets up. She grabs the phone from him.
“Hello?” she says cautiously.
“Jesus, there you are! You realize how hard you are to track down?” Dustin’s voice said, irritated.
“Dustin? What’s the matter? Is everything okay?” she asks, worried.
“Yes! Yeah, it’s just....I didn’t see you at lunch, you know? I got worried. I tried to call you as soon as I got out of Hellfire about an hour ago and you didn’t answer, so...kind of called around until I could get ahold of you,” Dustin said.
Her heart swelled. This kid was a good one.
“What’re you doing at Steve’s?” he asks.
“Oh, um...Steve invited me to watch some movies and I fell asleep.” she said. That was technically the truth. She decided not to mention that the purpose of movie night was to help her forget Eddie’s cruel words.
“Oh, really?” Dustin asked, suddenly sounding like he was grinning. “I didn’t know you and Steve liked to host movie nights without us.”
“I don’t follow,” she said.
“Don’t let me interrupt you guys. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Lunch was pretty weird without you,” Dustin said.
“I doubt that,” she said, turning to give Steve an apologetic look. He shakes his head as if to tell her not to worry about it before trailing back towards the couch probably to fall back asleep.
“No, really. I think I prefer the dynamic with you around. Things get weird...um...Eddie today was weird.” Dustin said. She was tempted to to press on, get Dustin to come out and repeat what Eddie had said but decided against it. “You’ll still sit with us again Monday, won’t you?”
No. She definitely did not want to sit at that table again knowing the truth. What was worse, she couldn’t bare lying to Dustin. She really wanted to avoid talking about this, but it seemed like she didn’t have a choice.
“Actually, Dustin...I was there...today. You guys just didn’t see me,” she said. Before Dustin could question her now intentional absence, she continued, “I overheard what you guys were talking about.”
There was a long pause on his end.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what his problem is. B-But you heard Mike and I, right? How we...”
“You have nothing to prove, Dustin, this isn’t on you. And honestly I can’t even be mad at Eddie. He’s more than welcome to his opinion. I just don’t think I can sit there knowing he doesn’t think much of me. I’ll still be able to see you guys, I’m not gonna completely avoid...that would be childish. I think I’ll just sit with Robin o-or Nancy.”
“Maybe I can talk to him! Get him to apologize!”
“He has nothing to apologize for, Dustin, don’t do that,” she said sternly. “It’s fine, Dustin! This doesn’t change anything! I just think some space would be good.”
“Okay,” Dustin said, noticeably disappointed. “I gotta go. I have to meet Lucas and Mike tomorrow at the arcade. Maybe you can meet us there?”
“Yeah, maybe,” she said. “Night, Dustin.” He wished her a goodnight and, at last, she hung up the phone. She glances at the clock hung up on the wall, wincing at how late it was. She walks back towards the living area where Steve had made himself very comfortable in the little blanket and pillow fort they’d unintentionally made.
“Everything good?” he asks sleepily.
“Perfectly fine. Um...it’s getting late, Steve, I should go.”
“What? Why?”
“You probably wanna get some shut eye and I don’t need to burden you with my problems any longer. Thanks so much for tonight, though, Steve. It really helped.”
Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes. He lifts up the comforter he had covering the lower half of his body.
“Come on,” he said, leaving little room for argument. “It’s too late anyway. Robin crashes here all the time.” She hesitates for a moment, then moves around the couch to curl up beside him, surprised at how warm he was. He covers them both up and shuts his eyes again, as if this was completely normal. And why shouldn’t it be? They were friends. Close friends. Close friends had sleepovers.
She turned over to politely give him some space and not be all up in his business. She pulls the comforter up to her chin and shuts her eyes, trying to calm all of her swimming thoughts. Tonight was about forgetting Eddie Munson. Tonight was about fun.
With that, she slowly drifted off to sleep again.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜
Dustin hangs up the phone a little harder than he should have, clearly upset. Eddie, Mike, Lucas, and Jeff remained unburdened by his sudden hostility, all lazily lounging in Dustin’s living room as they watched his Friday the 13th copy he convinced Steve to let him rent despite his age.
“Who the hell was that that kept you so occupied?” Mike asked as he rejoins them, taking back his spot. Dustin doesn’t answer at first, accepting the bowl of popcorn offered to him by Jeff. After swallowing two handfuls, he gives it back and glares pointedly at Eddie. The metalhead doesn’t notice at first, too into the film to notice Dustin had even left in the first place.
“Steve was hosting a movie night, too,” he says instead, out of nowhere sporting a not-so-nice plot. He loved Eddie, respected him. He considered Eddie to be one of his best friends, but he knew he screwed up big time with her. And Dustin wanted him to get a little taste of his own medicine. “Wasn’t alone though.”
“Buckley keeping him company?” Eddie asked, eyes still not moving from the screen. So he was listening. Good.
Dustin smirks and looks at Mike. “No, you won’t believe who he’s got spending the night there with him.”
“Not my sister,” Mike said, looking green.
“What? No, man, she wouldn’t do that to Jonathan! No, it was...” Even Jeff had to look away from the movie.
“Steve and her? Really?” he asks.
Eddie, at last, seemed to finally look away from the TV screen. He didn’t look distraught, but he wasn’t exactly too keen on the news either. Good enough, in Dustin’s opinion.
“I didn’t know she and Steve were going steady,” he said.
“Eh, they’re not. Figure it’s a first date kinda thing. I actually think I interrupted something when I called,” Dustin said. Eddie’s eye twitches. “Decided to leave them to it. I’ll bug Steve tomorrow on the details when he goes to work.”
“Good for Steve,” Lucas chuckles from the beanbag, his smile quickly disappearing when Eddie’s head shot towards him. “I mean...wow...pretty surprising stuff. Uh, Jeff! Can I get some popcorn over here?”
“I guess that’s why she wasn’t there for lunch,” Dustin continued. “Think she wanted to go visit him at the video place.”
Eddie sits back in Dustin’s mother’s armchair, slowly moving his gaze back to the TV screen. He definitely didn’t look as comfortable as he was beforehand. Dustin knew she told him to not punish Eddie for this. But Dustin was notorious for not doing as he was told.
#`#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader angst#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x reader x steve harrington#eddie#stranger things#stranger things angst#dustin henderson#mike wheeler#lucas sinclair#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#hurt feelings#series
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You’re Toxic, I’m Slipping Under
Summary: He bristles, offended. And you try, with as much dignity as you can muster after the last two hours of being fucked blind, to not look so smug about it. “See you next week,” he hums.
A/n: To celebrate Glass Onion coming out, here’s ol’ boy Ransom because I hate him so much :) 4.1k words.
Warnings: Smut; mild degradation, spitting, daddy kink; classism; Mind Games with Ransom Hour etc. etc. Please stop reading if you’re not 18+
Your whole apartment building seems to rattle when he arrives thirty minutes late. Like raucous fanfare to announce his appearance, the door slams shut, the latch clicks loudly, and then you hear his heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.
His shoes are still on—of course they are—stomping your floorboards and dragging in dirt. You can practically see them, the usual suede loafers switched out for leather boots with the late fall chill, and probably mud-caked because he’s thankless like that.
With your attention still on your laptop, already irritated because you’ve been attempting a paper that’s only chased its tail for the last three hours, you ask, “Did you misplace your watch, Ransom?”
Turning, you show him you’re the screen reading 8:32 and blink pointedly, “Is that a yes?”
“Don’t be smart,” he snaps back. “You know I don’t like that.”
Your head’s been a mess of fog, body tense and frustrated for days, and although you’ve always prided yourself on tact and grace—patient like a saint—Ransom manages to bring out the worst. You hiss, “Take your damn shoes off, you know I don’t like that.”
You watch mutely as he does so, not without a sneer here, a shitty comment there. He takes three long steps and plops himself on your bed, hands curling into the quilt, thumbs brushing over the patchwork fabric disparagingly. He pinches a loose thread and begins to pull, tugging slowly at first, and then finding joy in unraveling a line of stitching until nearly three inches rip apart.
“I always thought you needed to replace this thing.” He twirls the string disdainfully, “It’s ugly as sin.”
He pretends he doesn’t know how you obviously love this quilt—handstitched and affectionately made, your damn initials are embroidered into the corner, after all. He’s made a game of testing your patience, gleefully punching at every button as he tries to get you to snap.
Ransom Drysdale Thrombey. You’d met him at one of the Thrombey’s family… functions. Dysfunction, you’d muttered under your breath when Walt beat his cane against the floor in a drunken tirade and Meg ran out back to wolf down a pot cookie that she was supposed to be saving for later.
She was on the cusp of a panic attack, words tumbling out like a car crash, her hand in her beret, then hair, then trembling over her maroon-painted lips.
“God, I’m so sorry— I thought we could just make a pit stop before heading out. The food’s always catered and really good— god… it’s a fucking mess.”
You waved her off because it’s not like you haven’t witnessed at least one aunt having a meltdown during holiday dinner before— family’s just like that—and tried to placate her with, “Can’t be worse than the cousin who asked if we’d be scissoring later.”
Meg’s face twisted in disgust. “Ugh, ew! Fucking Jacob! He’s a skeezy little incel— I swear he’s a moderator on one of those internet forums where they post revenge porn and upskirt vids— honestly, he was adorable two years ago. Then I guess he went through puberty and got radicalized on Youtube.”
You paused as she lit a cigarette and inhaled furiously before realizing that the two of you were thinking of two entirely different cousins.
“I meant the big one, Meg. This one went through puberty twenty years ago.”
“Ew, Ransom,” Meg frowned, “That’s even worse.”
“Ransom? What is he, a Disney villain?”
Leaves crunched behind your back and Meg looked up from flicking ash into the yard toward the sound.
“Let’s be honest, I’ve got the face of a leading man.”
Meg blew smoke at him, as if the fumes were enough to threaten his sensibilities. You figured not, he looked like a cigar smoker anyway—one of those guys who’d dedicate a whole room in their house with the humidity just right to keep them fresh. Rich people shit.
“Go away, Ransom,” she said, to clarify.
“I don’t recall addressing you, Megan.” He took a drawn-out look, lips pursing in scrutiny before lifting a brow, making a real goddamn show about it. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll bite. 400 on the dresser for an hour; you can get yourself something nice.”
You’re still not sure what it was about either your attire or attitude that allowed him to conjure up such an offer.
Maybe it was your shitty jeans and your sweater from freshman year orientation. Maybe you looked like an easy mark to tear down.
His audacity shocked out a laugh from you—a loud, abrupt guffaw that eased Meg enough for her to dip back inside to grab more from her stash. And when she was out of sight, focused on rummaging in the old clock, you responded, “Yeah, okay. I’ll bite back.”
Maybe it was an act of rebellion against your background in contrast to all this excess. The bitter aftertaste of eating bottom shelf food out of necessity for weeks at a time—those awful chicken bouillon packets and dried blocks of instant noodles your first year of college. No one paid for your schooling or housing so learning to balance an over-abundance of classes and a job because you needed to graduate early, needed to spend less money on tuition, meant that you were working yourself to death.
If Youtube radicalized Jacob, then habitually sleeping three hours a night in the campus library and skipping meals to afford textbooks while men like Ransom crashed Maserati’s for fun radicalized you.
So, sure. Game on.
He picked you up the following weekend without anyone knowing and took you somewhere expensive. It was a whirlwind of exorbitant dinners and being quietly sneered at down the straight line of his tall nose bridge. The front door to his bachelor pad shutting but not bothered with locking. Falling into the thousand-count Egyptian cotton bedsheets naked, the skylight’s beam spilling like gold-flecked champagne.
You promised yourself it meant nothing. Just an experiment of unbridled spite. If he wanted to throw money at you, hell, that’s his problem. If he wanted to fuck you, well, you’d give him the best fuck of his life— let him see that despite wealth, at the end of the day, he was flesh and blood trembling for the right stroke.
And sure, he trembled, but it was your mistake to pare it down so simply.
Ransom juggled fuck buddies much longer than you’d been fucking at all. He knew it was best with the right amount of emotion involved. Just enough to yearn. If he laid roses at your feet, kissed your knees featherlight and worked his way up to your jaw, cradled the back of your head, nosed the pulse of your wrist, your collarbones, asked for your eyes on him, and panted the lightest breath of your name at the edge of it all—now who’s fucking who over, sweetheart?
You were out of your depth. He was powerful, older, and more experienced. He touched you in ways that emulated affection—that brought fire and danger. His hands were large and callused at the juncture of his fingers. His pretty mouth was pink, wet, kissed greedy. His sharp eyes took everything in.
But, as you predicted, his moods soon volleyed in every direction as consequence of never being told no, and once the novelty of crazy hot—often angry—sex grew stale, you crashed back down to earth burned out. You ghosted.
“You’re, what…” he called through the door the week after you texted that it was both too much and not enough to carry on with, “breaking up with me? Seriously. This is a fucking joke.”
And you could have practically seen it—how his bottom lip would jut out as his incisors crossed, how his brows would sink when he got angry. He was never belligerent, only calculating.
You told him to leave, and he did, after a single loud kick to the frame, because he’s never begged for anything, and he wasn’t going to start.
The guilt came afterwards, with the bouquet of roses on the doormat, petals scattered around because he’d slammed them down after being ignored again and again, and you swept them inside to throw into a vase next to the three other vases with flowers in various degrees of wilted.
“Breaking up” prickled complicatedly in the middle of your chest, because despite the many shows of affection, you knew you weren’t exactly breaking up. You had never really been with him anyway. People aren’t… with Ransom. They’re towed along by Ransom, dragged by their hair by Ransom. Played with by Ransom until he inevitably gets bored.
It devolved into needless melodrama. Weekly episodes of a teen show with grandiose gestures of toxic relationships perceived as romance. Ransom’s habit of whisking you away, fucking you senseless, turning around to fight with you about any-goddamn-thing he pleased. Dropping off flowers and champagne. Restarting the whole process.
It wasn’t healthy—isn’t healthy, probably, according to most therapists—since he’s here, present-day, in your room, beginning to undress.
You fiddle with the sleeves at your elbows, thumbing cool satin before advancing, arms subconsciously crossed.
He’s only in his underwear now. A pair of nondescript gray boxer briefs fitted on his muscular thighs, taut as he leans back on his palms. He slowly spreads his legs, inviting you between them. His lips purse when you stand passively, knee brushing his bulge, hands resting over his shoulders. He’s warm.
One palm caresses your lower back and the other on himself, gliding up and down. His lids are half open, voice low, “You miss this?”
“No,” which is a lie. You missed it when evenings were boring, half-heartedly nodding to some boy’s drivel about campus life, mind wandering to someone who didn’t look freshly 21, didn’t date like it. Didn’t talk themselves up just to get you into bed.
At least Ransom was honest; he always said exactly what he thought, told you exactly when you were pissing him off, how he was going to teach you a lesson—where he wanted you, how he wanted you, and— a chill races up your arms.
He’s downright smug when he notices.
“No? You prefer sloppy frat boys pawing at you like virgins over me? Every time, you think they might fuck right but, well, you’re always disappointed.” He reaches beneath the short hem of the robe, splays his hand out over your thigh and very slowly feels his way up.
Your eyes shutter as he pulls you forward, gripping tightly and massaging up toward your ass. The pit of your belly is tightening, the rest trying to push down being too eager for him all over you, his broad shoulders, his strong hands, how he bends his grasp on your shoulder, fixes you in a perfect curved arch just the way he likes.
Ransom noses the robe out of his path, sinking his teeth lightly down until he scrapes a line over your breastbone, laying his face gently down like a child—like a lover.
“You know,” he begins, taunting again, “You make a… face.” He says it as he trails down beneath the swell of one breast, letting your nipple graze his cheek, before he presses a kiss to your ribcage. Hot like a brand, searing into your belly. And then he bites.
You flinch, hand going to his hair to pull him away. He throws his head back into your grasp, eyes glittering and amused. He quickly works your thighs apart, dipping two fingers between and sinking into your heat.
“There it is,” he chuckles when your eyes flutter, “Yeah... Really gets me off.”
You’re in his lap before you know it, your hold on him fallen off and now scrambling for his wide shoulders to hold yourself steady. He’s got you leaned back on his thighs, hanging off the edge of the bed and perfectly helpless, the only thing planting you even close to secure are your folded knees, your arms around his neck. He’s shushing you, one large hand on the small of your back, the other still working inside your pussy.
He says, “Calm down unless you want to fall,” but it’s goddamn hard when your heart is pounding with equal parts fear and arousal. He’s sucking on your tits, balancing you just precariously enough to thrill, fingering you all the while—like it’s nothing to him, like you’re an object he can manipulate however he pleases.
His cock is erect, flexing against the fabric over his groin, a swell of hard, aching muscle. You want to put your hand around it, feel its girth in your palm, simply hold it because you do fucking miss it. The places he can reach, the ways he spreads you, rocking in and pulling out—how he sometimes settles inside, and then does nothing but watch you squirm.
It’s undeniably gorgeous—and he is too—when you fumble it out after he lays you down and hovers over you with interest. You’re wetting your lips automatically, staring in awe at his thick shaft sprouting from soft, dark, curls, the tip of it smooth and almost purple, swollen up with blood.
“Legs up,” and the way he says it, how he just goes right out and says it, makes you groan.
Boys don’t do that. Too busy in their heads about peacocking and re-enacting the kind of porno where performers wordlessly move into new positions in sync, nothing verbal exchanged but high-pitched shrieking and nasally fuck me’s.
Ransom’s extremely verbal in bed. He easily says, “Look at me. Show me how much you want it,” and flits his eyes between your bodies.
You do, shivering, sliding two fingers along the sides of your folds, finding yourself aroused and damp, humiliated and incredibly turned on when he grins, simply content with watching. Your thighs are squeezing reflexively, abdomen crunching up trying to keep it together.
But he’s never been patient, and quickly tells you to hold your knees, rock back, make yourself small and exposed, and then he’s delving gently into your hole— thumbs taking turns, coaxing more.
Two fingers tuck in, then another two struggle next to them, and you can’t stop yourself from gasping and crying out at how he pulls apart the walls of your cunt.
The sound of it— sloppy, squelching, a light and hollow kind of noise like a tongue flicking inside an open mouth.
“Look at this pretty pussy.” He tugs a little more, and you wriggle into it, gripping your legs tighter, pulling your knees up, shins toward your burning face to hide.
He descends on your clit, tip of his tongue licking into your stretched hole, purposefully only running against the taut skin around his fingers. “You got a talent, baby,” he murmurs, buzzing. “I could fuck you the whole day, fuck you numb… but give you about half an hour and it’s good as new, tight and perfect.”
There had been marathon rounds of bouncing in his lap between being at each other’s throats, his thighs splitting yours, hands holding you up, nibbling at your ear. Then he’d turn you around, take you to the floor until you collapsed on the bearskin rug, the sweat on your neck and chest rolling into dark furs. Railed you until you were so sensitive anything would make you come; your body unsure if it was considered your own anymore.
Fuck, fight, rinse, and repeat.
“Are you—going to talk all night?” You grunt up to the ceiling, trying to steel yourself from panting or moaning and only barely making it.
“Thought you liked it when I talked.” His dark head is still between your legs, nose pressed into your skin, licking agonizingly slow with his entire tongue. It’s so warm, and gentle, and assertive. “What, you don’t like being told how good you taste?”
He keeps licking, pushing at the back of your knees when you try to switch positions, holding you in that bent up pose. He’s suckling at your clit when his fingers find their way back inside, easily hooking in three and pumping them smoothly.
“How—” he sucks hard, the shape of his full, plush lips fitted over you making a filthy wet smack, “mmm—I love the taste of your sweet pussy?”
When you come like it’s being ripped out of you, legs shaking around his head, lines of his spit dripping down your ass and onto the sheets, he lets you go with a hard slap on your sex, and you nearly wail.
“That’s my girl,” he says. “Yeah, you missed me, huh? You missed it like this, didn’t you? Tell me.”
“Unnng …” a high whine, “Ransom.”
“I know,” he mumbles, kissing up your belly, your neck, your ear.
He moves into position, entering effortlessly after all his prep work, and the shine of your juice still on his beard is fucking unholy hot. He’s grinning and panting, eyes fluttering briefly as he slides home.
“I know it’s big, baby. But you can take it, you’re gonna take it.” He’s a fraction unfocused, letting himself enjoy how you squeeze around him before he begins to punish.
Jesus, you missed this. Missed the agonizing drag of his shaft that feels like it goes on and on forever. Miss the way you get full of him, miss how it almost hurts.
His hipbones are hitting against yours, a steady fast rhythm because he’s experienced like that. Whereas some others might go faster when you’re close, Ransom stays at the pace that got you there in the first place. If anything, he pushes just a bit harder, makes you listen to the sound of his skin on yours, the choke of your breath he punches out.
You crunch yourself up smaller, toes touching the headboard now. Anything to get him further in.
“Fuck, you’re a slut,” he laughs. “Pretty little slut, god you don’t give it up like this for anyone else, do you?”
There’s not enough sense in you to argue even if you wanted to. The room is swimming, undulating, slipping further and further out of reach as the bed rocks and squeaks in protest. You’re sure you met a very handsome guy at the bar weeks ago but as soon as he started hinting that he was interested and stirred up conversation by asking your major, you left.
It just… wasn’t there. It wasn’t the same. No way in hell.
That boy wouldn’t have done this—wouldn’t be planting one foot on the bed, the other knee still down, enormous hands tight on your hips and crashing in.
You could cry, it feels so goddamn good.
Tears dribble their way out from the corner of your eyes. You turn your face enough to get a breath of fresh air, gulping it in frantically between the drive of Ransom’s cock and the half second he slides out.
You vaguely register his hand moving from your hip to your cheek, knuckles brushing upward.
“Oh,” he sighs, “pretty, pretty girl.” He slows his pace, nearly stilling. You squirm beneath him, inching away from how deep he is inside you, how intimate it feels as he kisses the hollow of your cheek and then toward your brow.
“So sweet for me,” he says, pulsing, making you whine with how he pushes against your sore walls. “Did I make a slut out of you? Huh? Make you stupid for my dick?”
“Make me come,” you say. “Make me—“
“Ask me real nice, baby. Ask daddy to make you come.”
You want to hit him. Kill him.
“No?” He whispers into the sensitive shell of your ear, “You don’t want it?”
You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassment clawing up your face, but Ransom’s hold is tighter, sharper, and he really is— so fucking right. You want it. And he’s made you a little stupid, so yeah--
“Please make me come, daddy. I wanna come.”
The Cheshire grin that unfurls on his face is more panther than cat. “You wanna come on daddy’s big cock?”
“Yes, daddy,” you admit. “I wanna so bad.”
“Oh, that’s it, baby. You’re a good girl, aren’t you. You put on a little show just for me? Act like you don’t want it but soon as I get in you and you let me lay you out anywhere, make you say anything.”
You turn away but he’s got your fucking number— got you as a boneless, spineless mess beneath him as he begins to fuck you again, and harder, his calculating, beautiful, cruel face hanging above you like a fever dream.
“You gonna come? Gonna cry?”
He’s melting away, he’s everywhere, and the lights behind your eyelids are starting to glare and threaten to explode.
“Gonna come for daddy, huh. That’s it, baby. That’s my girl, let me feel your pussy— ah— there it is— you can’t help it, can you? Mmm, swallow daddy’s cock with your pussy.”
Your orgasm is a wreck of curses and teeth on Ransom’s shoulder when he drops down close enough to make contact. You shake and whimper, struggling to calm yourself through the aftershocks.
When you’re done, still floaty but more aware, the mess of your humming insides less tight around him, he pulls out and shuffles up until his swollen tip is at your chin.
You obey wordlessly, and afterwards, when the flex of his shaft is tell-tale, and he empties into your mouth, you hold it there, show him the mess.
“Baby,” he says, slowly making his way back down, admiring the come submerging your tongue.
Ransom licks his lips, licks the inside of his cheek, and leans back over again, his eyes liquid darkness and pleased as punch. And he drops a line of spit on top, drools it down over your teeth, into your mouth, and says, “Good girl.”
-
“You need a new laptop.” He’s tugging his belt until the clasp hooks into place.
“I don’t.”
“It looks old.”
“So do you.”
He bristles, offended. And you try, with as much dignity as you can muster after the last two hours of being fucked blind, to not look so smug about it.
“See you next week,” he hums.
You don’t say anything in response, only listening for the same heavy footsteps slam back downstairs—perhaps a fraction lighter—and the clunk of the door swinging shut. A long breath and you stretch slowly, letting your body regain its normal shape before he bent you into a goddamn pretzel. A few minutes pass, and then a few more, and you hear the roar of his car speed out of the parking lot.
Safe now, out of his reach, you amble back up into your computer chair to face the awful white, blank document staring back like a judgmental audience. You slide in and crack your neck, feeling the throb between your thighs yield to a less uncomfortable ache.
The problem, you’ve learned after leaving Ransom’s world, was that you had been ill-equipped to play his game. His game, and by extension, Meg’s game. All the Thrombeys and Drysdales and everyone in-between.
They belonged to a class you couldn’t really understand unless you were making a fucking killing—and graduation was just around the bend, so maybe you would, one day—but you were in the red with 45 grand of student debt and staring down the barrel of a subsequent degree because it was getting hard to make it with just a single bachelor’s in anything.
There was too much to do and not enough time to be jerked around by Ransom—not nearly enough time to feel frustrated about your situation in any sense. No, scraping by taught you to survive. You couldn’t be whisked off to the Caymans for brunch, couldn’t be fucked raw in hotel infinity pools, get lost for days meandering the Pacific on luxury yachts for the fun of it.
Your world was a little more drab, a little less rose-tinted.
So it was back to normal now, back to the grind, back to not wasting any part of your week on shitty dates, shitty sex, and coming home more frustrated than you left it. Because there was Ransom, so eager to make some kind of statement about proving you wrong that he’d be the last to know when he’s being used.
And maybe 4 out of 5 therapists would say that your coping mechanism to a normal sex drive is unhealthy—mind-fucking and regular-fucking your ex/not-ex will do that—but you wouldn’t know. You can’t afford therapy just yet.
You rub your back, patting out the tightness of overworked muscles. It doesn’t feel any worse than the cramp you’d gotten after staying up three nights in a row cramming for finals.
As if your brain has reset, your fingers begin tapping on the keys, and you realize your writer’s block’s been lifted.
#ransom drysdale#ransom thrombey#knives out#ransom x reader#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale smut#reader insert#fanfiction#ransom drysdale thrombey
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A special birthday crossover written for @daboyau!! It’s another between my Mama Bear AU and their Leave AU where Julia is taking care of the boys. Go wish them a happy birthday!! I owe you a lot bestie, here’s to many more birthdays as friends!!
Mikey’s smile is wide as he twirls around in his costume. He can’t stop looking in the mirror. Julia made the costumes for him and his brothers herself. It encouraged them to think of exactly what they wanted instead of looking at prices or the simplest ideas.
Leo had found a love for pirates after seeing both Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu movies about them. Julia may or may not have let slip that a certain skeleton restaurant owner had a past relating to the topic. Now Leo looks just like the single photo Hueso agreed to share about it.
Raph was a little anxious when he came to Julia about his costume. At first, he said he couldn’t think of anything and wanted Julia to choose. She told him he had plenty of time to think. Eventually, he shyly admitted that he wanted to be a bear like her. She knew there was still more, but still made it for him. When she saw the excited, but still somewhat sad look on his face, she encouraged him to tell her what he really wanted.
That’s how he got to be a bear fairy princess.
Donnie was a lot more fickle about the costume. Julia asked about his favorite characters, but each one garnered more frustration from the softshell. She tried to tell him that he didn’t have to dress up at all if that’s what he preferred, that only succeeded in causing him to storm off into his room and slam the door.
It took several hours for him to calm down. He approached Julia while she was in her chair in the living room with tears in his eyes and guilt written all over his face. Donnie apologized and told her he was angry at himself, not at her. He saw a mad scientist in a musical and wanted that to be his costume so badly.
But he couldn’t bring himself to say so.
Those two things were basically ruined for them all. They cause so much trauma, even now. He had felt incredibly bad that he wanted it at all. That he must be a terrible person, just like Draxum.
Julia held him and insisted that liking something that someone bad in your life did does not mean you’re similar to them. It sometimes can be a good sign that they don’t have control over you anymore.
Donnie was still terrified that his brothers would hate him, or worse, be scared of him. Julia promised that with his permission she could talk to them and see how to make it work. He very hesitantly agreed.
Julia went to the others and made a plan. They each helped make different pieces of the costume so they could get used to looking at it and know there was nothing to be scared of.
They all surprised him with it one day and he nearly started crying again. He wore it for hours afterwards.
Mikey chose to be what he’s always wanted to be.
A hero.
His suit mainly has orange and white, but his cape has orange, blue, red, and purple. Now that Draxum…isn’t around anymore….the most important thing in the world is his family and keeping them happy, safe.
Exactly what heroes do!
Julia makes the job a lot easier, but heroes never work alone anyways.
The doorbell rings.
“Boys, our special guest is here!” Julia announces.
The four of them rush to the door with excitement. She had told them that she knew someone who was visiting the human world for the first time and that she had a nephew around their age. They decided to have a join trick or treating excursion.
It would be the first top side Halloween for all of them.
Julia manages to get the door open despite how they crowd around it. The turtles see two rabbit yokai in front of them, an older woman and a boy their age. The boy and Leo look each other up and down immediately before smiling widely and shouting in unison.
“You’re a pirate too!”
Julia and Usagi’s aunt share a chuckle. This wasn’t planned in the slightest but it seemed to make the two boys very happy.
“Your bandana is so cool! And your eyepatch!” Usagi compliments.
“I got them both from a real pirate!” Leo brags.
“Wow, amazing! And you guys look awesome too! My name’s Usagi Yuichi! Oh, but um, I’m from Japan so Yuichi is my first name. You’d still call me Usagi because you only say the first name if we’re friends BUT I think we are friends so….call me either!” He smiles.
Donnie immediately thinks about the fact that he’d never survive anything they’ve been through, especially not a day with Draxum. He also thinks that it’s nice that someone wants to be friends this soon and that his brother is happy.
“Yuichi, I am Donnie. I welcome you to the group. Stay on my designated candy route and I promise our bags will weigh pounds.”
“Aye aye, captain!” He salutes.
Donnie feels a little proud.
“I’m Mikey and this is Raph. It’s nice to meet you!” Mikey beams.
“It’s nice to meet you two too! Your cape’s colors are so nice and Raph, I really like your wings!”
Raph smiles.
“Thank you. Anything that happens out there, you can count on me to protect you.”
“I can do it too! I’ve been practicing with my sword.” Usagi takes out his foam sword and whirls it around.
Leo gets even more excited and takes his out too. They fight together while giggling until one of them gets stabbed and pretends to die a dramatic death. It still is a little uncomfortable to think about death, but the fun washes the feeling away a bit.
Julia and Usagi’s aunt finally get everyone out the door and out to where the other trick or treaters are.
Usagi’s ears twitch excitedly, his foot thumping on the ground as well. The boys are in awe at seeing all the costumes and other kids. They’re not very scared of anything since they’ve seen much worse, but the decorations are still cool.
Donnie leads the way to the specific houses that will get them maximum amounts of candy.
The first house is a bit of a trial run in terms of what to do and say.
“Trick or treat!” Is the phrase they get correct.
“Oh! What wonderful costumes! A turtle, bear, and a fairy princess all in one? So special! Why don’t you all take a full sized bar?” The man offers.
Mikey, Donnie, Leo, and Usagi each take one and say thank you.
“I love you.” Is what Raph says.
Julia covers her mouth to stifle laughter and reminds Raph what the correct phrase is. Raph apologizes but also gets his group another, smaller piece of candy.
From there the fun continues.
Their costumes are a big hit with the rest of the houses on the route. The people compliment the mixing of animal and regular “costumes” made the boys feel better about themselves. Maybe if they saw them like this on a normal day they wouldn’t yell in fear.
Not that they’d want to find out yet.
One yard they visit even has a photo booth. They spend a long time taking some in different, silly poses. There’s two copies of the photos that they split, one for the turtles to share and one for Usagi to take back with him.
The trick or treating continues until everyone begins feeling tired. At that point, Julia invites Usagi’s aunt to come over for her and Usagi to eat. She was going to feed the boys anyways so they wouldn’t be too inclined to fill themselves up in just candy.
Usagi’s aunt accepts and they all go back to Julia’s house.
The turtles show off their rooms to Usagi while Julia and Usagi’s aunt cook together.
Donnie had taken over Luke’s old room with his permission to use whatever was leftover in there. This led to weaponry at first before Julia encouraged him to build more fun things. It took a while to be able to understand that he now actually had a choice in what he invented, but eventually each of his brothers had a toy robot they kept in their rooms. Donnie also has a lot of posters and some games for a slightly older game system that he made upgrades to.
Raph’s room is nearly filled to the brim with comfort items and delicate colors. He and Julia went yard sale shopping for a lot of the stuffed animals, but others were made by them together. Raph wanted second hand plushies because he felt like they deserved another chance like he got. He’s very protective of all of them, especially the ones that remind him of his brothers. He also has wrestling posters, big, fluffy comforters on his bed, and fairy lights.
Leo’s room is cluttered with different sport and hobby items. He was given a lot of room to figure out what he likes doing and if he wanted to do it just for fun or on a team. So far he’s playing basketball, being a mascot for football, and trying out playing the guitar. He was terrified to try anything at first. Julia worked with him at recipes she wasn’t good at to help him see that if she isn’t perfect, she doesn’t expect him to be either.
Mikey’s room has drawings and paintings covering nearly every surface. It was one of the hobbies that Leo tried but didn’t like. Mikey picked it up and never put it back down. It’s something Draxum would have never let him do. There’s no use for it in a war. For a soldier. Always a soldier, never a poet, never the fan blade, always-no. Not anymore. It’s different now. It’s been different. They’re truly living their lives now without the threat of them being taken away.
Usagi had a blast looking around in each of them. They played with some items in Leo’s room, listened to Raph name all his beats in his, colored in Mikey’s, and Donnie showed off the marshmallow shooter he assembled.
Finally, they were all called to wash up and eat.
“Whoever washes their hands first wins!” Usagi shouts before scrambling to run.
Everyone else chases after him and the group burst into giggles when they don’t all fit in at once.
Mikey manages to squirm his way inside, freeing everyone else but also allowing him a head start. He washes his hands and triumphantly raises them as the victor. Leo pats his head with a smile before the rest of them also get their hands clean.
After that, they all sit down at the table. Julia and Usagi’s aunt had made fettuccine Alfredo, salad, and garlic bread. The group excitedly talks about everything they saw and did in between eating.
Once everyone is done, Julia and Usagi’s aunt take care of the dishes after telling the boys to go ahead and take a look at their candy.
They all sit around and begin trading with each other.
Donnie stares pretty hard at a pineapple scented pencil Usagi has in his pile. He’s very aware that it should be less valuable than something edible but he really likes the scent and he can smell it while designing if only he had it!
Sadly, he’s out of candy that Usagi said he likes.
Usagi see this and picks up the pencil, holding it out to him.
“I….don’t have anything you’d want for it.”
“That’s okay, you looked like you really wanted it.”
Donnie is flabbergasted at the fact that Usagi wouldn’t rather use that as some kind of leverage again him.
What kind of strategy is that?
It’s not one.
Usagi doesn’t think like a soldier.
He’s just nice.
And….that itself…..is nice too.
Donnie shakes one hand in excitement while using his other hand to take the pencil. He feels a little self conscious when Usagi looks at it, but is surprised when Usagi does it too.
It’s not in a mean way, it looks genuine.
“I do that when I’m happy too!” Usagi smiles.
Donnie smiles back and shakes both hands while they laugh.
At the end of the dishes, Usagi’s aunt and Julia are met with five extremely sleepy boys.
Usagi’s aunt moves his candy into his basket and picks both it and his hand up. She waves as she leads him to the front door. Usagi’s sleepily waves as well and says he had a lot of fun.
The turtles tiredly wave back and insist he needs to visit again.
Julia smiles and says goodbye to Usagi’s aunt before closing the door behind the two rabbits. She then scoops the leftover boys into her arms and takes them to Raph’s room. That’s where they usually go when they want to sleep all together since his bed is the biggest.
She tucks them all in and kisses their foreheads. They fall asleep within seconds. Julia makes sure Raph’s stuffed animals won’t be kicked off in anyone’s sleep so he won’t feel guilty in the morning and then makes her way to the door.
Julia takes one last look at her boys and quietly shuts it.
They deserve a good rest.
#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt#2018 tmnt#rise fanfiction#rottmnt fanfiction#leave luanne au#leaveau#mama bear au
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MY BROTHER'S ENEMY
So I'm going to write shit because I have super wild fantasies, and I need to let them out.
The first one is about karate kid. Johnny Lawrence, because I know I'm not the only one who has wild fantasies about this man.
⚠️Warning⚠️ SMUT 18+, oral (fem receive), spanking, degradation
It's been a few weeks since you and your twin brother moved to California with your mom. Of course, you were only here a day when your brother decided to already start fights over a girl.
Now, a few weeks later, they were dating, and you were flirting with Ali's ex, the infamous Johnny Lawrence, the king of Cobra Kai. Of course, you felt guilty about it, but he was hot, and you were horny.
"Hey hotstuff." You heard from behind as you put your books into the locker in front of you.
You smiled to yourself before turning around, staring into the ocean eyes belonging to Johnny. "Hey yourself." You said with a smirk.
"You know, my mom and Sid are out of town this weekend. I'll have that big house all to myself." He said whilst twirling a piece of your hair between his fingers.
"Aw, poor baby. Do you need some company?" You ask, making an overdramatic pouty face.
Johnny chuckled at your sarcasm, dropping your hair and putting his hand on your waist. "I think I might need some company." He smirked down at you, moving his hand down to cup your ass.
You rolled your eyes, removing his hand, holding it in yours. "Invite the boys over, then you won't be so lonely." You joked, playing with his fingers.
He made a sad face as he looked at you. "But I wanted you to come over, I thought we could have some fun." He wiggled his eyebrows at you, making you laugh.
"I'll think about it." You finally reply, turning around and shutting your locker.
"See you around Johnny." You wink, walking away.
----
You stood in front of the door, contemplating knocking, but before you could do anything, it opened. "You've been standing out here for ten minutes you know." Johnny said, leaning against the doorframe with his famous smirk in place.
"Yeah, well, I didn't know if this was a good idea or not." You murmured, looking down at your hands that were clasped in front of you.
He took your hands in his and pulled you inside, closing the door and leaning you against it. "Why are you doubting this now?" He asked, still holding your hands, looking deep into your (e/c) eyes.
You sighed, contemplating your words. "You're my brother's enemy. I just feel guilty." You finally let out.
"Does it feel wrong?" His question caught you a little off guard.
"Well... no, it doesn't. Johnny, this feels so right, but it should be wrong. My brother hates you, and you hate him even more, but every single time you touch me, or even if you're near me, I feel something. I don't know if you feel the same, I know you still love Ali, but I just had to get this off my chest. I really like you, Johnny Lawrence." You let out a sigh, looking away from Johnny, not wanting to see the rejection in his eyes.
You felt his hand under your chin, tilting your head up. Before you could do or say anything, his lips were on yours, stealing your breath away.
The kiss started off slow but soon escalated when his tongue entered your mouth. You let out a low moan, trying to fight for dominance but losing badly.
Johnny tapped under your thighs, signaling for you to jump. He caught you with ease. You felt yourself being carried up the stairs and into a bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you.
Next thing you know, you're put on a soft surface. Johnny pulled back from the kiss, looking down at you, breathing hard. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I do feel the same. Screw Ali and your brother, I've wanted you since the first moment I laid eyes on you." You knew he was telling the truth, yet you still felt like you were betraying your brother.
"If you promise that you'll leave my brother alone and that you'll talk to him about us, then and only then will I give this a chance." You spoke with conviction, which looked kind of funny.
You were lying in Johnny's bed, him between your legs, yet the two of you are having a conversation like it's a normal Saturday afternoon.
"For you, I would do anything. Even talk to that stupid LaRusso you call a brother." You knew he was only teasing, but you still glared at him. "Fine, I'll talk to Daniel." He finally relented.
You smile as you lean up and connect your lips with his once more. He responded immediately, his hands roaming your body. Johnny started to lift your shirt a little as if asking for permission. You pull away from the kiss long enough to pull off your shirt. He stared at your bare skin, eyes wide as he looked at you in a lacy black bra.
He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, his wide stare replaced with a smirk. "You wear this for me?" He asked while his hands traced the lace barely covering your boobs.
You simply nodded, biting your lip as you pulled at the hem of his own shirt, signaling that it was now his turn to undress. He understood and quickly stripped off the piece of clothing. You admired his glistening abs, but that was short-lived as he attached his lips to your neck.
You gasped out in pleasure and let out a few moans as he nipped and sucked at your neck. He unclasped your bra and threw it somewhere in the room as his mouth attacked your hard nipple his hand giving attention to the other one, twisting and pulling at it.
Your hands flew to his hair, pulling him closer to you. He made his way down, kissing at your stomach until he reached your naval. Johnny looked up at you, once more asking permission with his eyes. You nod, but that wasn't enough for him as he came back up to look you in the eyes.
"Are you sure you want to go further (y/n)?" He asked.
This was the sweetest moment you've ever experienced while being with someone. No one has ever asked if you were okay with everything, never paid much attention to your body or your pleasure, only wanting their own release. "I'm sure Johnny, I trust you." You let out as you stare into his soft eyes.
"If you ever want to stop or just take a break, just say the word, and I'll stop everything." He tells you, leaning down to leave a soft, gentle kiss on your lips.
"You really are amazing, Johnny Lawrence." You say, kissing him again.
The kiss escalated once more, but this time, you didn’t even bother to fight for dominance. You just let Johnny take control. He unzipped your jeans, sliding them off along with your panties.
He moved down again, this time not stopping until he reached your throbbing heat. "Fuck, you're beautiful (y/n)." He breathed against you.
Your only response was a loud moan as he flicked his skillful tongue against your clit. He licked and sucked your clit making you writhe and shake against his mouth, you bucked your hips but he held them down with his one arm while his other one moved down. He inserted two of his fingers, intensifying the pleasure even more.
"Oh fuck, Johnny don't stop, please don't stop." You begged, his name leaving your lips like a prayer.
He obliged to your pleas, going harder against your clit as his fingers slammed into you. Your one hand flew to his head, pulling at his golden locks, causing him to groan against you. Your other hand was clutching the soft cushion beneath your head.
You were close, and Johnny could sense that as he went harder against you. "Oh my god, Johnny! Yes, oh fuck... OH YES, JOHNNY!" You shout out as the tight knott in your stomach finally unravels around his mouth and fingers.
He continues until you're a twitching mess because of over stimulation. He removes his mouth and fingers from you, licking off the latter from your juices.
Johnny comes back up, admiring your sweaty face as you breathe hard. "I think you moaning and screaming my name is my new favorite sound." He says, smugly looking down at you.
"Your turn, Lawrence." You say as you tried to reach for his belt buckle.
His hands stopped you before you could get too far, though. You give him a confused look, but he only smiles at you. "Today is about you (y/n), maybe next time." He says with a sweet smile.
You nod, smiling back as you kiss him. "You really are perfect, Johnny, and I can't express that enough." He blushes at your words, only making your smile bigger.
"Thank you, Princess. You're not too bad yourself." He teases you, causing you to roll your eyes.
"Are you still sure that you want to do this? Because we can stop now, I don't really care. I only want you to feel comfortable." He expresses his concerns once more.
You have already made up your mind, though. You wanted him more than you've ever wanted anything in your life. "I want to Johnny, I've never wanted something more." You reassure him.
Both of you smile as you kiss, Johnny quickly discards his remaining clothing. You look down, and your eyes go wide at his size, you've never had someone so big before.
He chuckles at your face before reaching into his nightstand to retrieve a condom. Johnny quickly puts it on, looking at you one more time for confirmation. You kiss him, hoping it would ease his nerves a little. It seemed to work as he slowly started to enter you.
You had to break the kiss as you gasped at the new feeling of being so full. When he bottomed out, you both let out loud moans at the feeling.
"Fuck, you're tight Princess." Johnny breathes out as he pulls almost all the way out and slams back into you.
Moaning his name as he hits that one specific spot that drives you wild. He groans in response as he slams into you over and over again.
The feeling is almost overwhelming, but you could feel that he was holding back. "Harder, please Johnny." You beg underneath him.
It's as if something in him snapped, his dominant side showing as he slams even harder into you. You are literally screaming at this point. Your vision is going blurry at the pure pleasure you are receiving.
Johnny takes one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder, causing him to go even deeper inside of you. You scratch up his back, leaving angry red marks and maybe drawing a little blood. He doesn't seem to care, though. It only spurs him on to go even harder and faster inside of you.
The only sounds that could be heard in the room are his hips slamming against yours and the loud noises leaving your mouth. Johnny tried to hold in his sounds but failed miserably the pleasure taking over him.
Suddenly, you're turned around at the speed of lightning. Now lying on your stomach, Johnny quickly pulls your hips up so that your ass is in the air. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls, causing you to moan at the new sensation.
He smacks your ass hard, probably leaving his handprint on it. "You like this, don't you (y/n)? You like being treated like a slut. Well, you're mine. No one else gets to see you like this. Do you understand?" Johnny asked through clenched teeth, smacking your ass again.
"Yes Johnny, I'm yours and only yours." You moan out.
At your words, he slams back into you at full force. "That's right, you're my slut. Mine to use however I please." He groans as he thrusts in and out of you almost painfully quick.
You couldn't even respond if you tried, the pleasure being too much. Johnny puts his one hand on your hip to stabilize himself as the other one snakes around your waist to find your clit.
He starts rubbing fast circles, and even though it's still sensitive from your last orgasm, it still makes you scream out in utter pleasure as you clutch the headboard in front of you.
You were so close as you started clenching around Johnny's hard dick. He groans in response, signaling that he was close as well.
He kept going harder and faster until you couldn't take it anymore and let go of the tight knott in your stomach.
You cummed around him, but he wasn't stopping. So he made even faster circles on your clit, making you close to a third orgasm.
Close to tears, you screamed his name at the top of your lungs. "Fuck (y/n)!" Johnny screamed out as his thrusts started getting sloppy, signaling that he was close as well.
You came around him again as you felt him go still, shooting his load into the condom. He rests his upper body onto your back, his breath coming out in pants as he moves slowly in and out of you, riding your both through the intense orgasm.
The two of you groaned as he pulled out of you, both falling flat against the bed. He turned and pulled your sweaty body against his.
"That was amazing." He breathed out, kissing your neck gently.
You turned around and met his gaze, kissing him softly. "It was perfect and so much more than I could've hoped for." You said against his lips.
He chuckled but agreed nonetheless. Johnny then proceeded to stand up and walk into his ensuite bathroom, coming back with a wet cloth, cleaning up the mess between your legs.
You blushed at this but still thanked him for the sweet gesture. He climbed back into bed, pulling you against his chest once more.
You rest your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you slowly calmed down from the previous activities. "(Y/n), I know this is soon and all, and I promise that I'll talk to your brother about this as well. But would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?" Johnny asked, still looking at the ceiling.
You pulled his head towards yours and kissed him with passion. "I would love nothing more, Johnny."
The two of you are smiling messes as you slowly drift off to sleep. You couldn't wait for your future together.
Who would have thought that the twin sister of Johnny Lawrence's enemy would one day become the love of his life. He definitely didn't, but he couldn't be happier.
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Thank You, Jerry~ Part 2
Luke Patterson x Alive!Reader
Summary: After getting an afternoon free from the band, Luke decides to see his parents, only to find out something he wasn’t expecting.
A/N: THIS IS A REPOST!!! I posted this on my sideblog when this account wasn’t working and now, I’m posting it again here just to clean things up! Hoping to have the next chapter out soon!
WC: 2.9K
SERIES MASTER
Part 2: And to quote Twilight
—
Last night was a dream, right?
No. There’s no question about it. Last night was a dream. Period. Jerry did not exist. Jerry does not exist. There’s not a ghost haunting your house!
… right?
No!
“Y/N! Get up, or you’re gonna be late!” Your dad’s voice echoes heavily through the house before the front door slams shut when he leaves for work. Not even a moment later, your alarm blares. You don’t move to turn it off, instead you pick up your pillow and press it firmly against your face to muffle the loud scream you release. Was it long? Honestly you had no idea, but it did feel good to get out any possibility that last night wasn’t a dream from your mind.
Ghosts weren’t real, end of story.
Now that you’ve faced that terror of the day, you had another to battle. High school.
Leaving your high school a quarter of the way into your senior year isn’t ideal for most kids, and you were definitely one of them. You hoped the kids and the teachers were nice, but you haven’t really gone to a new school in years. Everyone knows each other at your old school.
Turns out you can blend right into the background at Los Feliz High School.
—
Luke pops back into the studio as Julie is saying goodbye to Alex and Reggie, reminding them to stay out of trouble while she’s at school, as if the boys needed reminders and as if they listened to them.
“Where have you been?” Reggie asks when the guitarist garners their attention.
He hums as if he didn’t hear the question, trying to think of anything to cover up the fact he’s been at your night for hours.
“Just out.” He shrugs and the boys share a look with a Julie.
“You’re not still upset about your parents’ house, are you?” Alex asks from behind his drums, twirling his sticks between his fingers.
Luke stares at the ground for a moment before shaking his head, but he doesn’t say anything. All three pick up on his weird silence, but they aren’t sure exactly what’s causing it.
“Okay, well I’m gonna be late for school, so you guys be good.” Julie says before sending Luke one last worrying look and then another to both Reggie and Alex, urging them to figure him out before she was out the door.
Alex and Reggie exchange a glance before taking seats on opposite sides of Luke.
“Hey buddy.” Reggie begins with a wide, and rather fake, smile. Luke raises a brow at him. “How you doing?”
“Guys.” Luke’s sighs out, falling back against the cushions. “I’m not mad anymore.”
“You sure?” Alex asks not fully believing him.
“Would someone who’s mad do this?” Luke launches himself off the couch and onto the coffee table, presenting his arms out as he stands atop.
Alex and Reggie exchange another worried glance. “Yes, yes they would.” Alex says the same time Reggie says “Dude, you do that when you’re mad all the time.”
Luke huffs in disappointment and falls back into his spot with crossed arms. “Fine, maybe I’m a little mad.” He finally admits. “But I have to tell you guys something.” His voice lost its harshness as Alex and Reggie turn slightly in their seat to listen. He was going to tell them about you, all about his conversation and presence in your life but a strange hesitation stops him. What if Alex and Reggie make him stop visiting you? They probably wouldn’t, but what if they tell Julie and she makes him stop? Did he even want to visit you again? The pit forming in his stomach told him the answer was yes, he does. So instead of telling his best friends, Luke shakes his head and forces a smile. “Never mind. It’s- It’s nothing.”
—
By the time lunch rolls around, you’ve spoken to a total of four people and three of them were teachers. The lunchroom was insane, kids were everywhere, sitting at and on the tables as well as the floor nearby them, it was a miracle you hadn’t stepped on a stray backpack as you looked around for anywhere to just sit and eat. It was loud too, as if the entire school was playing a different song and you begin to finally realize what your father was talking about when he said music was very important at this school.
After a few painful minutes of hunting for a spot, you find a table in the back with just two young girls sitting at one end and so you quickly take a seat at the other. The girls turn their heads and throw you small smiles as you sit down. You can’t hear their conversation apart from one word.
Ghosts.
Did you hear them correctly? Were they talking about ghosts? No. No, you must have misheard. With last night and now their conversation, it was too big of a coincidence.
“Hey.” A soft voice pulls you out of your fretting as you look back at the two girls, both of them watching you curiously. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, you’re holding your fork like it threatened you.” One of them pointed out to the utensil in your hand and you quickly released it, letting it clatter on your plate as you shake your head.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” You assured them, taking another glance around the lunchroom. “Just nervous, I guess. It’s my first day.” They scoot down the table closer to you and you do the same, dragging your tray across the table and making the three of you laugh at the awful sound it makes. “I’m Y/N.”
“Julie.” The first girl waves and smiles.
The second girl also smiles but throws up a peace sign. “Flynn.”
“How are you liking Los Feliz?” Julie asks as she takes a bite of the sandwich in front of her.
You hesitate before sighing. “It’s fine. A little different, but I’ll get used to it.” The girls nod. “Hey, is everyone just really into music here or am I crazy?”
“Well, we can’t count out crazy,” Flynn jokes and considering you’re believing you saw a ghost last night; she had a point. “But you’re either a music person or lacrosse person.” She points over to another table where students in letterman jackets crowd around, laughing so loud you can hear them from across the cafeteria.
You pick at the food in front of you. “So, what are you guys? Music or lacrosse?”
You figured the answer was kind of obvious, they didn’t really seem like lacrosse people, but it was a fair question as both their faces light up.
“Actually, Julie here is in a band and I’m the manager.” Flynn sweeps her hair over her shoulder, and you grow impressed with your new friends.
“Really?” You ask and start to match their smiles. “Would I have heard of you? What’s your name?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Julie says, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “We’re called Julie and the Phantoms.”
“You’re Julie and the Phantoms?” You blurt out, dropping your fork not-so-casually. Julie and Flynn both nod. “Sorry, it’s just my best friend loves you guys. You’re really good.”
“See Jules,” Flynn puts a hand around your shoulder, “the new girl thinks you’re good.”
Wait a second…
Phantoms?
Is that what they were talking about earlier when you overheard ghosts?
“So, phantoms?” You begin, keeping your head low. “Where uh, where did that come from?”
The girls share a look you can’t understand before Julie clears her throat. “Holograms. They’re holograms, my other bandmates. They’re Swedish.”
You stare at her, maybe a little longer than you should before you furrow your brows. “Swedish… holograms?”
They nod.
So not ghosts. Although they wouldn’t just tell you if they were… right?
“Interesting. Very cool though.” Your smile turns normal again and Flynn and Julie let out breaths of relief when you weren’t looking.
The lunch bell rings and you’re forced to pack up your lunch before heading to another boring class you can sit in the back of and pretend you weren’t going crazy last night. Maybe you still were because as you tap your pen against your desk, listening to your teacher ramble on about- well, you weren’t really sure- you couldn’t stop thinking about Jerry.
—
You throw your backpack on the ground by your bed, sending the books toppling out but you don’t pick them up. Instead, you huff and fall on your mattress, tugging the blankets out from under you and wrapping them around your body tightly so only your head in poking out, although it’s squished firmly in the faded pillow lying at the head of your bed.
It had been a long day and Luke could most certainly understand as he watches you from the corner of your room. He glances over to the lamp, sitting on your desk untouched since last night, then he looks back to you.
There was a click, you could hear it through your pillow protection. You blow it off, old house, random noise, you hear random noises all the time. Then it happens again, and again, and again. So, instead of ignoring it, you peak an eye open. You can still hear the clicks, only now with your eye opened, you can see the wall of your room light up. Then go dark, then light again.
Unlike last night, you scramble off the bed, snagging your foot in your blanket and sending your entire body to the floor.
Luke winces when he hears your collision, and he can no longer see you. He almost walks closer to you, wanting to make sure you were okay, but you pop up, making him stumble back and clutch the desk.
“No, no, no, no,” you keep mumbling while clutching the blanket closer around you. You start pacing, keeping as far from the lamp as you can. “You’re not supposed to be real, you really weren’t. You were supposed to be a dream, Jerry, you weren’t supposed to exist!”
Your yelling ceases the same time your pacing does and you stare straight at the lamp. Luke doesn’t know what he was supposed to do now. He came here today on a whim, in fact he didn’t even know what he was doing. He looked at the clock, saw Julie was going to be home soon, thought of you and next thing he knew, he was watching you toss your backpack on the ground.
He didn’t know what to do, so he flickered the light on again.
You whine and fall on the floor in a lump of limbs and blankets. “You’re real.” You whisper. “You’re really, really real.” Luke turns the light on and off fast and you put your hand up. “Alright, cool it Casper. You’re going to burn out the light.”
Surprisingly, Jerry listens.
He sits in your spinning chair again, having too much fun in the seat but you don’t seem to care as you stare off into space, processing the last 24 hours.
“Okay.” You finally say as Luke slows down the spinning to pay attention, but he doesn’t stop, that way you’ll know where he is. “I’m talking to a ghost. No, I’m talking at a ghost, the ghost isn’t talking to me, it can’t,” you pause, glancing up at Jerry and tilting your head, “can you?”
Luke knows the truth: he can, but he doesn’t know if he should. Before he could find a way to silently tell you ‘no’, you yank one of your journals out of your backpack alongside a pencil and push them towards Jerry. “I don’t know if you can write, but if you can, um, try that?”
He hesitates for a moment before picking the journal and the pencil off the ground and your eyes go wide at the sight of floating objects. Slowly, you stand and shuffle over to the desk keeping a good distance from the still moving chair.
Luke flips it open, trying to figure out what to say before settling on a simple “hello”.
Your eyes scan over the word more than a few times, at first trying to understand the awful chicken scratch scribbled on your page but after that, it was purely in disbelief that you were talking with a ghost.
“Hi.” You whisper, tightening the blanket and hiding your giddy smile. “This is so cool.” Luke was in agreement. “Okay, um, what’s your name?”
Now that you learned Luke can write, it seemed only fair you’d ask him his real name, only the problem was that Luke wasn’t sure he should say it. What if this whole thing blows up in both of your faces. He wasn’t sure how, but with his luck it was inevitable.
You can call me Jerry :)
You snort, covering your hand with your mouth. “Oh, come on, you don’t have to live with me calling you that. What’s your name?”
I like Jerry
Maybe it was because his handwriting was impossible to read, but it took you a few seconds to understand Luke’s writing and in those few seconds, Luke was given the chance to finally look at you.
He liked looking at you. Your lip was pulled taunt in your teeth, eyes fluttering back and forth over the words Luke had previously written, and your smile, full of disbelief and wonder, was bright on your face. Yeah, he really liked looking at you.
“How old are you?” You break his thoughts. Luke shakes his head, quickly scribbling down the number 17 before pausing. He had a birthday since he’s been a ghost, so he scribbles out the 17 and quickly jots down 18. Then again, he’s had several birthday’s since he’s died, and he wasn’t really sure he could age anymore. He scribbled out 18 and rewrote 17, underlining it a few times to say it was his final answer.
You chuckle at the odds of this ghost being the same-ish age as you. “Okay, and to quote Twilight, how long have you been 17?”
“Twilight?” Luke asks himself. He assumes it was just another thing he would have to ask Julie about later and hope she doesn’t ask where he learned about it. He shakes his head and scribbles down 26 years.
“26 years?” You gasp softly. Never could you imagine being a teenager for 26 years. Hell, you’ve already experienced enough teenage years to last you a lifetime. “Wait, that would make you like,” you pause, trying to do math in your head, “43 years old?”
I died and came back 25 years later. Been a ghost for almost a year :(
You look at where you assume Jerry’s head is, your smile long gone. You have no idea what it must be like for him, over half your life gone just like that. “I’m sorry.” It was all you could manage to get out.
Your whispers make Luke’s stomach fall. He didn’t mean to make you upset or feel bad or him. He picks up the pencil, tapping it on your desk to get your attention and when you do look, he quickly scribbles something down on your paper.
Don’t be sad, I wasn’t alone :)
“You have friends? Ghost friends?” The comment makes you straighten yourself. “Are they here now?”
Luke chuckles.
No, no they’re not. They’re my best friends, we died together.
You place your hand on your heart. “Oh, that’s so sad.” At least they didn’t have to mourn each other. Losing your best friend or friends like that sounds horrible. “How did you die?” You ask without thinking. The chair stops moving for the first time in 5 minutes, and you realize you might’ve overstepped. “You don’t have to answer that, that’s personal, I’m sorry.” You ramble, taking a few steps away from the desk.
Luke only stopped spinning because he wasn’t expecting the question, not because it was too personal or anything. Your back was to him before he could even stop you and he quickly writes on the paper.
Hotdogs.
You weren’t looking at him, and even when he’s tapping on the desk with his pencil, you couldn’t hear it over your apologetic ramblings. Luke had no other choice.
He softly chucks the pencil at the back of your head.
“Ow!” you clutch the back of your head, gently rubbing it while turning to the invisible ghost behind you. “I get it, it’s a personal question, but there is no reason to throw things!” You shed the blanket around your shoulders, pick the pencil back up, and slam it into the desk when you’re next to Jerry.
You were about to speak again before the pencil was swiftly picked up and tapped against new words on the paper. “Hotdogs?” You read out slowly, wondering if you just read it wrong. “Hotdogs… killed you?”
Luke sighs. Food poisoning.
Your mouth makes an ‘o’ shape when you understand and fall into a seat on your bed. You chuckle to yourself. “I’ve never really liked hotdogs. There was just always something about them. I guess now I can say it’s because it killed my new friend.” Luke and you laugh at the same time, finding this situation quite comical. Your laughs slowly stop first, your eyes fall to the ground, and you take a deep breath. “We are friends, right Jerry?”
Luke didn’t need to think before he scribbled down a very simple yes.
.
.
.
.
#Luke Patterson x Reader#Luke Patterson imagine#Luke Patterson fanfiction#Luke Patterson#Luke Patterson series#jatp x reader#jatp imagine#jatp fanfiction#jatp#Julie and the Phantoms#Julie and the Phantoms x reader#Julie and the Phantoms imagine#Julie and the Phantoms fanfiction#Thank you Jerry
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Kinktober Day 17 - Benimaru Shinmon (Degradation) {1:27am}
Warnings: smut, fingering, 18+ content, degradation, dirty talk, offensive language (swearing), public acts, daddy kink
Word Count: 900
Kinktober Masterlist
He could feel the anger bubbling in his chest as he watched the two of you. You leaned against the wall with that stupid smile on your face, laughing far too loudly at his jokes that weren’t even that funny. It pissed him off to no end. That god damned Hinawa. Usually, he was quiet, not wanting anything to do with the people that showed up to these types of things. So why did he choose now to be the time that he opened up and made a friend? And why did that friend have to be you?
You could feel the eyes on your from where he stood, trying to ignore them. You were never going to get used to that jealous side that Benimaru Shinmon had. And the bastard hid it well from everyone, saving it just for you.
Benimaru stood from where he leaned on the wall, his figure sauntering toward you. You were nervous, to say the least, as you saw the eyes that he wore. Those were the eyes that you always caught glimpse of right before that jealous nature came in. His hand came down hard on Hinawa’s shoulder with a vice grip that made the man wince a little. As he turned and locked eyes with Benimaru you saw him swallow hard. “Good evening, Captain Shinmon.”
Benimaru gave him a shit-eating grin as he looked to you. “Good evening, Lieutenant.” He took his hand from Hinawa’s shoulder and reached out toward you. “I need to have a word with Y/n if you don’t mind.”
You raised your eyebrows, trying to get him to leave you be. You were actually enjoying your conversation with Hinawa and you didn’t want him to pull you away from that. “So go ahead, you’re right here. I’m waiting.”
You watched Benimaru’s nostrils flare, barely able to believe what he was hearing. If there was one thing that he hated it was when people didn’t obey his direct orders. “In private if you don’t mind.” His tone was a little harsher this time around.
He gripped your arm and pulled you quickly away from the crowd that had formed. You grabbed at his hand, trying to push it from you. “Benimaru, that hurts, let go.”
Benimaru ignored your pleas, continuing down the hallway of the hotel, headed straight for the room you shared. The sight of your door made him smirk, he knew exactly what he wanted to do and he wasn’t waiting any longer. His strong hands spun you around, pushing you against the wall with a force. His hands slammed down on both sides of your head. “Daddy’s little slut thinks that it’s funny to flirt with another man in front of him?” He brought his face close to yours. “Come on, does she? Answer me.”
You whined as he pressed his body weight into you, still unsure of how you should react. You could barely contain your desire as you saw the lust in those red eyes of his come forth. “No. Never. I would never.”
His lips attached themselves to your neck as you tipped your head back to give him better leverage. “Then why were you doing it? You’re just a needy little bitch tonight, right? Don’t know how to keep it in your pants when you should. Tch, such a dirty girl.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, twirling the hair at the bottom of it. “To get your attention. That’s all.”
Benimaru smirked. “Well you have it now and just for how you went about it, you’re gonna be my precious little fuck-toy for the night. But if you’re really good for me, maybe I’ll let you enjoy yourself. Okay, darling?”
You pushed your hips into him, needing to feel him as close to you as you could. He grabbed your hips and pushed you back to the wall. “No, not yet. I told you, you’re mine tonight to do with as I please. You should have thought about that before you did what you did, doll.” His voice was deep and raspy as he kept you in place. “Greedy little sluts like you don’t get to ride daddy’s thigh or his cock whenever they want.”
He pushed his leg between your thighs and spread them apart, his hand sliding into the front of your leggings. “If you don’t apologize that sweet little ass off to me right now then I’ll be sure to take you right here. Make sure that everybody can hear your little cries and see just how good you look as I fuck you senseless.”
The words spilling from his mouth had you both surprised and ready for him. You had never wanted to let him take you so badly, but you obeyed him. The possibility of the other companies in the building finding the two of you like this was fueling you to listen to him. “I’m sorry.”
His fingers slid past your underwear, teasing your folds as he smirked. “Try again. That’s not what I wanted to hear. Apologize properly and tell me who you’re apologizing to, you needy little thing.”
Benimaru sunk his fingers into your core, slowly pushing them into you as you whined out your words. “I’m sorry, daddy.”
He stopped his fingers and kissed the side of your chin, nibbling softly. “That’s more fucking like it, now get your horny self in that bedroom so I can fuck it out of you.”
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Can you do dom! Weasley twins with prompts 22, 23, 26 and 28 where the reader has a choking kink, a spitting kink and a slapping kink?
I hate myself for asking this 🤸♀️🕳️
I'm sorry please ignore this if you want
All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.
Dom!Weasley Twins x Fem!Reader (No Insest)
Word Count: 1,515
Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Vaginal Intercourse, Male and Female Performing Oral, Daddy Kink, Choking Kink, Slapping Kink, Praise Kink, Slight Degration, Slight Breeding Kink, Spitting Kink, Spanking Kink. Basically its a very kinky smut.
A/n: I hope this is enjoyable! I personally hate spit, both in general and in the bedroom, so I hope this is good and it makes sense aha.
Also!! I am still on my holiday, writing this by the fire, in the rainforest where it has been raining non stop for the past day, with a wine in hand hehe. My wifi is very touchy and I have tried to upload this three times (fingers crossed this works) but my uploading will be on and off. Thank you for understanding and all your support xx
REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN AS WELL!
Prompt’s Requested:
22 - “You think it’s funny to tease me? - Changed the me to us.
23 - “On the bed, now.”
26 - “Ass up.”
28 - “Don’t be a brat.
I walked around the halls of hogwarts, swinging my hips a little more than usual, feeling eyes on my ass. Smirking to myself I look over my shoulder, spotting the red headed twins whispering amongst themselves. I flick my eyes to the room of requirement as they both smirk at me. I turn the corner bumping into someone as air escapes my lungs.
“Watch it.”
My eyes flick to his as I smirk, knowing I can use him to tease the twins behind me.
“Oh, Cormac I’m so sorry.” I place my hand on his arm, my fingertips dancing across the skin as he sighs, his eyes training over my body, the buttons of my shirt slightly undone to allow my cleavage to peek through.
“Don’t even worry about it Y/n, uh, you look good today.”
I hear a familiar scoff from behind me as the twins walk past, standing just behind Cormac, watching my every move.
“Not so bad yourself, I saw your quidditch game the other day, you did so well.” I bat my eyelashes a little, twirling a piece of my hair around my finger as Cormac licks his lips.
“Maybe, you could come and see me later tonight, you know, help me study.” His wink causes a smirk to form on my lips as I watch George roll his eyes, walking down the hall to the room of requirement with Fred right behind him.
“I might consider it, but I have to get going.” I squeeze Cormac’s arm lightly as I walk down the hallway, my panties pooling with wetness at the thought of what the twins have in store for me. I quickly look around as I press my back to the door keeping my eyes on the empty hallway before slipping inside unseen, I feel a hand hold my hip pushing my chest against the door as I huff, the air escaping my lungs once again.
“Don’t be a brat.” George’s voice raises goosebumps on my skin as I giggle softly.
“I was being nice.” His hand slaps against my ass hard, surely leaving a mark as I wince.
“Brat’s get punished.” Fred’s voice rings through my ears as I moan softly, another spank falling on my ass, my body gets spun as Fred’s hand clasps my neck keeping me still against the door. His finger falls to my chin, forcing my mouth open as he winks, spitting into my mouth as my eyes flutter closed, a moan passing my lips.
“On the bed, now.” I follow George’s command as Fred lets me out of his grip, I fall onto the soft king bed as the twins look over me like they are hunting prey. “Head off the bed.” I wiggle against the fabric of the comforter, my head hanging off the side of the bed, mouth watering in anticipation as I hear both of their belt buckles undo.
I look up as George licks his lips, pumping his cock up and down as I open my mouth wide, his chuckle rumbling through his chest as his fingertips brush my chin before his hand wraps around my throat, his cock sliding past my lips as I flutter my eyes closed.
“Such a good girl for daddy.”
“Give daddy your hand.” I lift my hand up to wrap around Fred’s cock as I pump it up and down, my finger swirling around the tip of his dick as I circle my hand up and down.
“She is a good girl.”
I moan around George’s cock as he fucks my throat faster, my gagging filling the room as George’s hand comes in contact with my cheek, slapping the skin as my eyes roll back.
“But you’re still our dirty slut.”
George slaps me one last time before slipping out of my mouth. I feel Fred shuffle on the bed as he stands in front of me, his cock slightly glistening with precum as he slides into my mouth. I place my hand on his balls, massaging the skin as he continues to throat fuck me, his hand coming down on my cheek.
“You like taking daddies cock don’t you baby?” I nod as he slaps me again. “Such a whore for us.” His hand slaps my cheek before he soothes the skin, his thumb rubbing my cheek softly as he watches his cock disappear into my mouth.
George’s fingertips dance across my thighs as he pulls my skirt up my hips, a hiss falling from his lips, his finger running up and down my slit, collecting my wetness as I rock my hips slightly.
“Little slut isn’t wearing panties.”
I hear Fred chuckle in response as his hand wraps around my throat, fucking into my mouth faster as I gag around him, my eyes watering.
“I bet she’s dripping.”
“She is.” George confirms as he circles my clit ever so softly, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Fred slips out of my mouth before he cums as I whimper.
“Please daddy.”
“Use your words baby.” George taunts as I roll my eyes.
“Just fuck me.”
“Patience princess.”
I huff in annoyance as his mouth falls to my heat, his tongue slipping past my folds as I gasp.
Fred’s hands fall to my chest as he starts to unbutton my shirt and take my bra off. His mouth falls to my nipple, sucking and biting the hardening bud as his other hand massages the right breast.
“Holy fuck.” I start to slowly become a moaning mess under the twins as my body goes cold, both of them pulling off me as they swap positions, Fred’s tongue now circling my clit, slipping two fingers inside me, George’s lips on my neck as he sucks my sweet spot.
“I need your dick.” The begging only eggs them on more as George wraps his hand around my neck, our eyes locking as he smirks.
“Open baby.” My mouth falls open as he spits, before locking our lips together. I moan against George’s lips as Fred slides deep inside me, my legs wrapping around him as he thrusts in and out of me.
“Fucking tight.”
George runs his hand down my body before his fingers circle my clit, he breaks our kiss, keeping his hold around my neck, his eyes never leaving mine as I clench my pussy around Fred.
“She loves that.” Fred winks as George chuckles.
“You love taking Fred’s cock, hey baby.” I nod as George groans, my hand wrapped around his length, pumping him as he kisses me softly. “So good to me.”
“I’m close.”
George smirks at me as he holds my face in his hand.
“Where do you want his cum baby?”
“Mouth, please.” I beg as Fred slides out of me instantly, shuffling on the bed as my mouth wraps around the head of his cock, tasting myself as his fingers get tangled in my hair, moving my mouth up and down.
“Ass up.” I quickly change positions for George, Fred sliding back in my mouth, a gag falling around him as my eyes water again.
My eyes roll back as my pussy clenches around George, his thrusts slow and hard as he rocks in and out of my body.
“Fuck.” Fred moans as his cock slightly twitches inside my mouth, his hot salty release flooding my tongue as I swallow hard. I gasp as he pulls out, his lips kissing my head as he slaps my ass, George’s dick hitting my soft spot as my chest falls to the bed.
“She’s close.”
“Where do you want his cum princess?”
“Inside me, fucking cum inside me daddy please.”
Fred chuckles at my begging as George groans at my pleads.
“Pathetic.” Fred slaps my cheek as I moan loud, his hand wrapping around my throat as he cuts my air off, my eyes fluttering closed.
“I’m cumming.”
George’s cock twitches inside me as my pussy clenches around him, milking his release from him as his cum covers my walls. George hisses as he slips out of me, falling beside me on the bed as Fred does the same. All of our chests rising and falling as I catch my breath.
I slip past their bodies as I start to quickly fix my appearance, both of them looking at me with puzzled looks as I bite my lip softly.
“I told Cormac I’d spend the night with him.”
I turn my back to the twins as I go to open the door, having it slam shut in front of me as I turn to George, his hand around my throat, my back against the wood as Fred shakes his head.
“You think it's funny to tease us?”
“Don’t forget you belong to us.”
I smirk as George drags me back to the bed, Fred spanking my ass, I bite my lip as the thoughts of tonight's activities fill my mind.
| | |
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Dive Into You: Part 2. (M)
Preview: “You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.
“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. You should be thanking me nono.”
Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader
Word Count: 3.8k
Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck
Warning: daddy issues, sacrilegious themes, explicit language, master manipulator Haechan, innocent Jeno, virgin reader, corruption, bible quotes
Smut Warning: oral(F receiving), slight sensory deprivation, fingering, all in church.
Intro—>
Part 1–>
“I told the new family in town that you’d be showing their daughter around boys. I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Pastor Lee slaps a hand over Jeno’s shoulder with a firm grip. “No funny business.”
“You got it, father. You know, like because you’re a pastor.” Haechan snorts, pouring hot steaming coffee into a ceramic mug.
“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious. Make sure your brother acts right. People around town are already talking enough about my atrocious parenting skills. Word travels fast in these small towns you know.” Pastor Lee adjusts his tie in the mirror. Stepping out of the front door with not even a wave goodbye. Jeno left rubbing at his shoulder with irritation.
“What time do you want to head out?” He questions, eyes burning into Haechans back.
“Oh, I can’t do that ‘show the new townies’ around thing today. Got a brunch date in the next town over with someones mom.” Haechan turns, leaned back along the kitchen counter blowing steam from his coffee.
“What?? She’s your girlfriend now. Aren’t you supposed to hang out with her tonight?” Jeno’s eyes widen befuddled. More in disbelief his brother would be two timing you, familiar with his antics.
“Your point?” Haechan scoffs, checking messages through his phone. Petty smirk on his lips sending you a ‘miss you’ text.
“You’re a dog. You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.
“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. Should be thanking me nono.”
“Dick..” Jeno mutters, grabbing his bag to head out. Not wanting to spend another minute around his brother.
“Wait a minute..” Haechan grabs a hold on Jeno’s arm, pulling him back into the kitchen. “Take good care of my girl today yea?” Jeno’s eyes squint as his brother sneaks a $20 bill into his side jacket pocket.
“Maybe get her a milk shake or something. Whatever it is you kids drink. We’re not really going on a date tonight if you know what I mean.” Haechans eyes shift around mischievously. Knowing damn well Jeno knows. Knowing exactly what to say to get under his skin.
Jeno grips at Haechans collar, huffing against his face. Anger seething through fingertips aching to bring his brother physical pain. Jaw tightening, resisting the deep urge inside building for years everyday.
“Gonna give me a black eye nono? What will father think when he finds out his bad seed is also abusive?” Lips curling with a slick grin. Haechan the expert on how to push Jeno’s buttons. Worked on himself well to get exactly what he wants.
“That’s what you want isn’t it?” Jeno clenches the fabric between his fist, arms shaking with rage. “You’re the perfect one, I’m the fuck up. You’re the one dad brags about, I’m the one he pretends doesn’t exist.”
“You think your daddy issues would get your little church girl turned on? Should I tell her how you cry yourself to sleep wishing you were me?” Haechan snorts, loosening from of Jeno’s grip. Hands smoothing out his freshly ironed shirt.
“I’ve never wanted to be anything like you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
“That’s not true nono..” Haechan pulls on a jacket. Fingers twirling around keys. “You know how much I love my car” with a cocky wink matching a shit eating grin Haechan heads out. Leaving Jeno festering in his anger. Fists slamming against the counter. Back tense with underlying hatred, hatred for himself. Tired of how easily Haechan manages to provoke him.
——————————————————————————
Jeno’s nervous, pissed off, feeling anxious. Pacing back and forth in front of your house. He didn’t have much of a choice with the looming threat of getting shipped back off to Jesus camp hovering his mind. The idea to ditch this whole ordeal passing his thoughts more than once. It’s not that he liked you, but it’s also not necessarily that he didn’t like you. Convincing himself he just hasn’t gotten any for too long now. Dick probably desperate for anything at this point. Nothing related to how cute you looked with your lips all swollen after kissing him. Jacking off at home that night reliving the events long forgotten.
Forget about stroking himself off in the shower the next morning again. Or the other five more times since. No he didn’t like you, not really..
“Aren’t you one of Pastor Lee’s sons??” And older woman carrying bags of groceries approaches. Lipstick covering her two front teeth, over sized dress hanging from her body.
“Oh uh.. yes I am. I’m supposed to.. show your.. daughter? Around today..” Jeno stutters out, mentally slapping himself.
“Oh..” the woman adjusts a bag in her hold, throat clearing. “What about that lovely brother of yours? What’s his name again?”
“Haechan..” Jeno’s eyes shift, looking away. How did his brother manage to convince everyone he was such an angel. A modern day fallen angel, roaming earth in disguise.
“Ah that’s it..” she makes a sound of disapproval, bag dropping on the porch. “A polite young boy would have offered assistance.” Voice lowly whispering as she unlocks the front door. Jeno’s eyes darting between the groceries and woman, cursing himself yet again for coming off exactly how everyone says.
“I’ll call her down.” She steps inside. Loud shouting vocals calling out your name. The sound of foot steps against stairs following. Your figure appearing, dressed up to impress. Jeno’s throat itching, swallowing, adjusting his collar.
“That’s not your bike- is it?!” Your mothers shrieking voice questions. Eyes bulging out, taking in the sleek black motorcycle off the sidewalk.
“I’m here!” Your smile falls, only spotting one brother waiting for you outside. Not the one you’d expect even. You subtly give a look around, searching for someone else maybe hiding in surprise. Jeno unfortunately does not fail to notice.
“That is my bike Ma’m.. it’s safe. I promise.” He holds up two helmets. Craving to crawl into a hole under your moms scrutinizing gaze.
“I’m not so sure about this..” she mumbles. Eyes glaring into Jeno, trying to put the fear of God...fear of a strict crazy mother, in him.
“It’ll be fine mom! He has a helmet! I’ve been on a motorcycle with dad before!” You lean up, pecking your mothers cheek. Summer dress twirling up with air as you run forward. Jeno catching a glimpse of your underwear. Shifting a helmet over his groin momentarily.
“I thought Haechan was coming too?” You asks, taking the helmet held out for you. Typically being his brothers helmet, little did you know.
“He’s busy.. errands out of town or something.” Jeno mumbles, avoiding your eyes. He’s being weird, but then again you didn’t know him well enough to confirm he wasn’t always this way.
“Oh.. well I guess I’ll see him later anyway.” You frown, tugging at the light fabric of your dress. What a waste. “You ride a motorcycle?”
“Yea.. I don’t have a car so.. you’ve been on one before you said?” Jeno’s brows furrow. Eyes trained on your feet, teeth digging into his lower lip. You had to wear cute strappy sandals with a summer dress. That just made sense, to show off your cute freshly painted toes..Jeno’s brain feels like its turning in his skull. Lips begging for mercy to let out a scream.
“I actually haven’t. Just said that to make my mom shut up.” You lean in close. Lips grazing his earlobe as you whisper. Words muffled, Jeno blinking slowly. Perfume wafting around his head, as if this could get any worse.
“Uh..” Jeno steps away abruptly. “Put that on!” His voice awkwardly shouts to you, chin jerking toward the helmet in your hands. Head shaking, pulling on his own. Straddling around the bike seat, engine coming to life.
“Am I supposed to hold on to you?” You stand to Jeno’s side. Admiring the shining black bike, fitting for his character. At least physically.
“I..” Jeno’s breath catches under his helmet shield. Only now realizing you’ll be riding with him around today. Legs parted on him.. arms squeezing his abdomen.
“Jeno??..” you pull on your helmet with confusion. He wasn’t much for words it seemed. So opposite of his brother.
“Uh.. yea.. just hold on to me..” he sighs to himself. Sounding more displeased than intended. Uncomfortable awkwardness travels through you watching his shoulders slump. With reluctance, you lift your leg. Straddling Jeno’s back, bad day to wear a short dress..
“This is kind of..” your lips purse together, center a little too close to Jeno’s body. More than close, right on him. Cotton airy smell coming off his black jean jacket. Scent fresh and clean, hair lingering of lightly scented shampoo. His broad shoulders covering majority of your view.
“You should.. hold on tight.” Jeno licks his cracking lips. Foot kicking up the bikes lock. With another look toward your mom motioning the sign of the cross. You lean your body forward, chest pressed up on Jeno’s wide back. Arms circling around his small waist.
Jeno’s own thoughts rolling in like rapid fire. Throat squeezing in, heat between your bodies pressed together moving between his legs. Trying to focus on anything, anything but your breasts pressing into him. Anything besides your smooth thighs around him. The memory of kissing you too vividly choosing to repeat itself.
“God be with you!” Your mothers voice screams out. Bike engine too loud as Jeno rides off. Your dress blowing behind you, smile covering your face. Chin on his shoulder, admiring the view of your new home.
Could only be an even more perfect moment if it was Haechan you were wrapped around..
——————————————————————————
“That’s it? A diner? That’s the tour of the town?” You twirl around the cherry sat atop melting whipped cream. Chocolate shake looking unblended and less than appetizing.
“There really isn’t much to do here..” Jeno mumbles, chin tucked into his chest. Basket of half eaten fries more interesting than you apparently.
“I could have told you that..” you murmur in response. Sitting back in the booth with boredom. Jeno does the same, brows furrowing in thought. A minute or five of silence passing. He grunts lowly, pulling his phone out.
“Look at you two!” Mark jogs over sporting a huge smile stretched across his cheeks. Red and white striped apron covering what looks like an all white uniform.
“You work here?!” You sit up, eyeing the uniform. Almost too fitting, a too old altar boy working part time at a cheap fifties diner.
“Well of course, phone bills don’t pay themselves! Timothy 6:10 For the love of money, is the root of all kinds of evil!” Mark proclaims, finger waggling about like a mad man. Your lips pulling back over your teeth in...displeasure.
“Right..”
“Fucking shit” Jeno groans, kicking at a foot under the table. Tsking as thumbs slam down at his phone screen.
“Ah Jeno! Proverbs 21:23! Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble!” Mark places hands on his hips. Lips pursed together with disappointment.
“Yea..sorry Jesus. Whatever.” Jeno mumbles again, eyes not moving from his phone.
“Gamers right” Mark shakes his head your way. Eyes lighting up, taking your own phone out.
“What do you play??” you scoot in closer to Jeno. Closing the space between the two of you in the booth. His shoulders stiffen, curling in hunched over the table.
“Kartrider..” Jeno barely whispers. Catching enough of it, familiar with the game.
“I play too! Oh! I bet I have a better rank than you!” Laughing unlocking your phone, swiping the game open. “Look at my character, she’s so cute!”
“There’s no way you’re better than me....I’m always top ranking in this county..” Jeno’s eyes widen. Forgetting about his current race, watching you hold up your phone with laughter.
“Come on, let’s race. I’m gonna kick your ass!” You lean in closer, reading out Jeno’s ID as you enter it in. “Add me!”
“Language!” Mark sighs, head shaking with both of you. “God’s children have truly fallen. After everything the lord has done for us.”
“Come on Jeno! Play me! I’ll go easy on you” nudging at his side with a wink. Your smile grows, finally something you can do together. Jeno dragging you around downtown past rusty antique shops. The only thing that caught your interest a quant little family owned bookstore. Learning fast he wasn’t much for conversation. Face appearing pained and uninterested with every word from you.
“Don’t feel like playing anymore..” Jeno shuts his phone, screen turning black.
“What?! Aw come on. Can’t stand the thought of a girl beating you?” Jeno leans back, eyes taking in your face slowly. All he cared about was winning, competing in stupid games just to achieve a high ranking. You’d win of course, he’d never let you lose.
“Just don’t feel like playing anymore.”
——————————————————————————-
“Thanks for showing me around, the one street you took me to.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. Hopping off the back of Jeno’s bike. He removes his own helmet, hair flopping around messily. “Was fun I guess.”
“Yea well” Jeno holds out his hand for the helmet you borrowed. You hold it under your arm, brow quirking in confusion. Your hand slowly lifting, placing in his. Jeno’s eyes widen, staring at your hands held together. Too many feelings rushing at him all at once.
“Helmet!” Jeno shouts abruptly, hand flying away from yours like you’re too disgusting to touch.
“Geeze, fine. Sorry...” you place the helmet on the back end of Jeno’s bike. Turning away, without even a goodbye. He grabs your elbow, your foot stopping mid-air.
“You..” head turning, staring down where he holds you.
“Yes?” You implore him to continue. Jeno’s hand dropping from you when you fully turn to face him again.
“You.. you really like my brother..?” Jeno’s eyes fall to the ground. Thick dark eyelashes shadowing across his cheeks.
“Yea of course. Is that what this is about Jeno? I really do like him, I would never use someone.” You smile, bouncing back on your heels. Jeno’s lips suck in with frustration.
“Wish I could say the same about him.” Jeno mumbles, turning his engine back on.
“What was that?” Voice raising, trying to speak above the loud roar from the motorcycle. Jeno flicks down his helmet shield, speeding off. Cloud of dust surrounding you. Smacking at the air coughing out, bike disappearing behind dusts.
“Fucking jerk.”
—————————————————————————-
“Haechan! Where are we going? The church?!” Your shoes lift up dust. Arm in his hold pulling you toward the small old building.
“Where else would we go baby? Can’t go to my place, the holy spirit’s home.” Haechan laughs, pulling a lanyard from his back pocket. “Besides, this is my dads church you know right? It’s like my property too, we’re safe here under God’s watchful eye.”
“Isn’t this.. I don’t know. Sacrilegious?!” You anxiously follow him inside. Haechans easy smile comforting you, arms wrapping around your waist. He steps back down the center aisle. Pews displayed at your sides, Haechan leading you one in front. He pulls you to the center of the pew, sitting with hands on your hips.
“This feels..” you start, chest rising and falling faster as guilt passes through you.
“Wrong? God didn’t make us this way..” his hand smooths down your bare thigh. Passing the fresh new dress just for your date tonight. Fingers skirting between your thighs, one playing at a side covering your mound. “..for us to not touch and explore..”
“It’s just..” your hands grip at the front of the pew behind you. Where you’d normally kneel to pray..
“Just?..” Haechans eyes gaze up at you. Pure sin and danger hidden in the face of an angel. Tongue sliding up your other thigh. “You’re so sweet.”
You sigh in defeat, legs quivering, upper body doing the work to hold you up. His head dipping under your dress, nose pressing into your slit. Cotton from your panties shoving between you. Soft moans sounding from underneath, Haechans tongue licking at your underwear. Enough to properly soak them up, allowing drool to freely fall from his mouth. You gnaw at your lip, gathering up your dress fabric in one hand. Admiring the way the beautiful boy between your legs eats you up.
Haechan lets out a dreamy sigh. Long fingers stroking up and down your thighs. Teeth biting your at core with cloth between. Your stomach folds in, curling closer to where he sits below you. Fingers wrapping around the sides of your panties, tongue lapping at your inner thighs.
“Body of a virgin can heal more sins than body of christ you know..” underwear at your knees. Haechan leans back in, lips wrapping around your clit. Tongue swirling around, suctioning between. Your other hand lifting to your mouth, biting down on your thumb. Muffled moans and whines echoing around the church walls.
Haechans eyes stay on your face, tongue rolling your clit around. Hands squeezing your inner thighs, pulling back, clapping down slaps. Your hips jolting forward with suppressed cries. Everything about him was absolutely depraved. Looks deceiving from the boy your mother had always warned you about.
“Don’t hide your pretty sounds baby.” Haechan pulls away. Lips shining, coated in your wetness. Glares from the colored glass reflecting off his skin. Red tinted eyes sparkling up at you. Haechan reaches for your wrist, yanking your hand out from your mouth. His lips part open, tongue swirling around your entrance. Sucking up the wetness gathering around.
“Oh God!” You shout out, neck loosely dropping back. Tears on the brink of escaping the corners of your eyes.
“That’s it baby. You pray to me now.” Haechan groans, mouth closing over your entire mound. Eyes rolling back into his head, swiping up and down your core. Hands finding his hair, fingers digging into his scalp. Haechans tongue thrusts into your tight entrance, muscle working extra hard to enter.
“Oh my God!” Body shaking, ass digging into the pew. Hips twitching forward, grinding against Haechans face. Chin covered in your wetness, tongue wiggling inside you. Fingers finding way to your clit, pinching and rolling the bud. “Oh my God!!”
Haechan groans inside you, scalp in pain from your pulling. Cock hardening in his jeans, taste of innocence in his mouth nearly orgasmic. You taste too fucking good, nothing like that used up whore from earlier..
“I-I c-can’t!” Haechans fingers work at your clit. Rapidly sweeping back and forth. Tongue sliding out, jaw hung open. Eyes return to your face, smile breaking out over his cheeks.
“You can.” He pants, tongue hung out lazily lapping at your hole. Clit pinched between two fingers, massaging every little nerve. “Cum on my tongue.”
Your head drops forward, tear slipping free. Haechans raspy tone saying those words driving you past your limit. Ass lifted off the pew, core convulsing. Haechans tongue placed against your fluttering entrance. Catching all of your release. You weakly fall forward again, forehead resting on top of his messed up hair.
“So good.” Haechan moans words out, licking clean the wetness seeping from you. Neck lifting, hands cupping your cheeks. “Taste.”
Tongue pushing between your parted lips, trying to catch your breath. Haechan laps at your tongue, realization hitting you in seconds what he’s making you do. Tasting yourself between your lips. His tongue covering every corner inside your mouth. Haechans hands return to your hips, pulling you off the front of the pew to straddle his lap.
“You want it?” His hand digs into the back of your hair. Jean clad dick shoving between your thighs at your heated core. Weakly nodding, eyes half open lazily pecking pouty lips. Haechan lays back down flat across the pew. Warm hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. “Come here.”
Your head nods, under his command. Mind controlled by whatever he’s saying, telling you ‘I want it- no matter what it is.’ If it’s from Haechan- give it to me, now. You lay down on his chest, kisses continuing. Hands squeezing around your ass, pulling up your dress. Hands flying down hard with mean slaps. Fingers gliding down finding way between your legs again. Skimming up and down your slit from the back. Soft moans passing between your swollen lips.
Body tensing, sounds of the large entrance doors opening up with a slam. Haechans eyes open up staring into yours, brows lifted. His lips purse out with a silent ‘shhh’, earning a rapid head shake from you. Familiar smirk pulling at his lips, free hand clamping over your mouth. Your eyes widen, lips pressing into the palm of Haechans hand. Fingertips circling around your needy entrance. Panic rushing through you as loud foot steps approach closer and closer.
Your forehead shoved up against Haechans. Mouth closed off, silent whimpers falling out behind his hand. Finger sliding inside you, his lit up eyes watching your expressive eyes react. The fear and curiosity alone could make him cum.
“Are you kidding me!” A flash light shines over your faces. Mark standing at the end of the pew in disgust. Your head lifts quickly, ripping Haechans hand off your mouth. Cheeks heating up absolutely mortified. Moving fast, adjusting your dress to cover up. Haechan stays laid down, eyes fluttering shut with irritation.
“Fucking cock block.” He whispers to himself, sitting up. Tent in his jeans extremely evident.
“I knew you stole my keys again Haechan!” Mark clicks the flash light on and off angrily. Both of you covering your eyes. “and you! Mary of Magdala! You should be ashamed! Think of your mother!”
“Dude, chill.” Haechan stands, hands held up trying to block the bright light from his eyes. “We weren’t doing anything.”
“Weren’t doing anything?!? If people found out what you were doing, this one would be getting pelted with stones!” Mark passes the light over your face. You cringe, hands coming up to hide yourself.
“Mark, quick, what’s the verse about fucking that really cute voice of an angel choir boy?” Haechan throws him a knowing look, pulling a lanyard from his pocket. Marks eyes widen, snatching his keys away.
“Don’t steal my keys again! Next time I will be telling your father!” Mark scurries away, door slamming behind him.
“Oh my God he’s gonna tell your dad!” You panic, pulling your dress down. Attempting to wipe away any mascara that could be on your cheeks.
“Nah he’d never, can’t risk everyone finding out about Renjun. Don’t worry baby, I got something on everyone.” Haechan pulls you in, gently pecking your lips. Your senses relax, mind torn with stress still. Who the fuck were you right now..
“You know..” Haechan turns you around, hand scooping your chin. “I’m gonna fuck you. Right there.” He holds your jaw up. Eyes on landing on the altar.
“Jesus will know all your sins after I’m done with you.”
Part 3–>
Taglist:
@seuomo @unknown5tar @sunoosi @safariria @nctlover94 @underjeno @nanascupid @jenorenle @scruffiejelly @mel-yjh @count-your-shadows @sunflowerhae @johnjaespeach @nctflix @notsooperfect @skrtbeepbeep @lanadreamie @nctstrawberrycow @meonlightuniverxse @sunshinedhyuck @haechanswhore @brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr @kpopmultiifandomm @d1nne @neobanguniverse @pewpewpwe00 @abitofafan @haechansworld @born5sos @bockhyun @prettychannie @xuyiyangstan@alexameliamg @ahsshilee @jeon-jungkook-is-actually-god @xwanna127x @heyitsbreeeeee @tarolovebot @loveyukhei @eleanorfreakingchan @classic-antifood @winwiniee @sheytanni @player23 @wavetease @nahyuckk @n0hyuck @doyoungssouthernbabygirl
#neopuppy fics#nct dream#nct dream smut#nct dream fanfic#nct dream drabbles#nct dream scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct dream x you#nct#lee jeno#lee donghyuck#haechan#jeno#lee donghyuck smut#jeno smut#haechan smut#haechan fanfic#haechan drabbles#haechan imagines#haechan scenarios#jeno fanfic#jeno drabbles#jeno imagines#jeno scenarios#lee donghyuck x reader#lee jeno x reader#nct smut
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How possessive do you think Dabi is?
Extremely...
However, his signature bullshit move is to act like you're trash when you're actually trying to give him your affection... saying you're clingy and he needs his space... but when he's given said space and you DARE to look at someone else for any reason, he's back in full force... doing his best to ruin your life...
You're just minding your business at the bar, laughing with Compress over some cheesy joke he'd made at Shigaraki's expense when Dabi's toxic ass decides he's back to fuck with you (again)...
His breaking point was when you'd run your finger along Compress's mask asking to see his pretty smile again (apparently you'd seen him without his mask? what the FUCK? Dabi was seething)...
Then, (the absolute audacity of this fucking clown) he moves a gloved hand to your lower back and says...
"Darling, the mask will only be removed if you are wanting me to put my mouth to good use..."
Before the giggle bubbles up from your throat, you're being drug away by a FAR too hot hand on your upper arm. You don't even have to look to know who it is and that they're livid...
With a dramatic flair of his hand, Compress waves away from your retreating form, "Truly a shame, my dear!"
Dabi fucking growls and grips you even harder, causing you to wince.
"When that fiend has left you high and dry, you know where I stay," with a lift of his mask, you see him very skillfully roll two of his marbles around his tongue, and your stomach swoops (okay maybe you always had a little crush on him that only got worse after you'd glimpsed just how gorgeous he really was.)
Blue flames shoot out and with a twirl, the masked villain dodges the attack and disappears out of the bar's door with a cackle.
You can't help feeling just a little smug.
"Wassa matter? That hit a little too close to home for you Dabs?" You were in a foul mood from the argument they'd had the day before, "Compress does look like he knows how to use his tongue. Shame you ran him off before I could friend out."
The breath leaves your body as he slams you into the wall, hovering over you. The heat from his always-too-hot body was suffocating you now.
"Acting like you weren't crying on my tongue just two days ago, fuckin' brat," a hard thigh is slammed into your core and a hot palm scorches the skin of your neck, slowly gripping the sides making you dizzyingly weak in the knees.
You don't have a response for him. You never do... you just let him slam you into the bed and prove to you himself that he'd always, ALWAYS, be better than that masked fuck or anyone else who breathed near you... growling into your core, eating like a man starved, until you're whimpering over and over again that he's the only one for you...
And Dabi's rage only begins to die down when the confessions and praises flow from your lips...
Good. You're back where you belong... in his deadly grip...
#tw: toxic relationship#tw: toxic behavior#dabi smut#dabi x reader#jade drabbles#my asks#asks answered
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𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙣 𝙭 𝙁!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧: 𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮
This is my first time writing a Dom&Sub GXG so please be nice to me. This involves smut. Dominate Harley, submissive reader. Slapping, spanking, dirty talk, oral, fingering. I just watched Birds of Prey and thought of this halfway through, so, lmao. I hope yall like it. And remember, feedback is appreciated so please give a ‘like’ and or reblog. It’d mean the world to me. Also, if you have any suggestions, just message me and I might write them! :) lots of love. xx
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Harley was trying, damn it. Give her some credit, cut her some slack. Try as she may, the anger and jealousy only continued to bubble up, no matter how hard she tried to swallow it down, it kept rising in the back of her throat, eager to come out and explode everywhere. That and it might be a bit of bile, too.... as gross as that may be, more than likely, yeah, it was a mixture of both.
Harley had been drinking a lot of liquor as if the clear substance poured in the small glass shots were water rather than vodka.
Harley bit on her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood on the tip of her tongue. So, she continues.
Continues to drink until she feels every other emotion besides the bitterness feeling she was getting as she watched her best friend, (Y/N) on the dance floor.
(Y/N) and Harley were like two peas in a pod, inseparable those gals were. You'd never see Harley without (Y/N) by her side, the same way with (Y/N). They were attached to each other like glue.
Expect of course, right now, they were not. Harley sat, sulking, at one of the back booths of the club, eight empty glasses pushed aside, her hands holding up her face as she pouts and huffs to nobody other than herself.
"I came here to have fun with her, not her to have fun without me," Harley whined, the pout on her face only growing bigger. Groaning, she facepalms and shook her head from side to side, feeling frustrated tears starting to build in the corner of her eyes but she blinks them away before they could reveal themselves.
Her head snaps forward, so fast she swears she gets whiplash, when she hears (Y/N)'s laughter fill the air. Her laugh always caused goose bumps to bite at her skin and a chill to run up and down her back. Harley shivered as if she were cold but that was far from reality.
In reality, Harley suddenly felt hot. It felt as if she was on fire.
Then she realizes, there's no use in trying to stop these feelings or try to push them away. They were bound to come out sooner or later.
(Y/N) was hers. Nobody else's. End of story. The two have hooked up before, all of which the two were either really drunk and or had one too many pot brownies, but they have gotten together before.
And as of right now, Harley was going to show (Y/N) just how better off she is with Harley by her side rather than some six feet muscular guy that (Y/N) was currently grinding up against. Harley growls as she stands up, trying her best not to fall as she exits out of the booth and pushes people out of the way before finding (Y/N).
"C'mon. We're leaving. Now." Harley barked, painted fingernails curling around (Y/N)'s wrist.
"Well, hey there, good lookin', might I ask what you're doing, stealing away this beaut from me? If you're jealous, don't fret, love. There's more of me to go around. Sharing is caring, ain't that right, babydoll?"
Harley's blood boils at the pet name he gives to (Y/N) and before she realizes it, her fist comes in contact with his face and her leg rises up as she kicks him in the groin. "I said we're leaving." She spits.
Taking (Y/N)'s hand, Harley drags her through the whispering crowd, half of the people laughing at how a man that tall and muscular so easily dropped to the floor with one swift movement, both from the hand and leg; others taking their phones out and snapping pictures of the scene. Harley didn't care if people gave her glares as she walked past. Harley could care less.
She drags (Y/N) towards the back exit door, kicking it down as she then marches down to her apartment complex which wasn't even a foot away from the club. She's practically dragging (Y/N) behind her like a rag doll but she didn't care. All she cared about was showing (Y/N) who she belonged to.
Once the door was open, Harley twirls around and bends forward, picking the girl up before walking inside the small space that she called 'home'. It wasn't much but she loved it, regardless. Harley drops (Y/N) on the couch before crawling up and over her body, pinning her arms above her head.
During this whole 'meltdown' (if that's what you want to call it) (Y/N) remained quiet. As quiet as a church mouse. She didn't dare utter a single word, didn't dare say anything. She was either too drunk or too scared to speak.
"Babygirl," Harley's voice isn't soft and sweet, but sinister and cold. (Y/N)'s breath hitches and she shudders as Harley holds her face with the palm of her hand before backing her with it, earning a small gasp to spill out from (Y/N)'s lips.
"You are in trouble, do you understand? You and your slutty fuckin' self. Who do you think you are, grinding against another man as if you want a cock when you already have a plastic one at home? Besides, is my tongue and fingers not cutting it out for you anymore, sweetheart?" Harley's words were laced with malice and held as much venom as an Inland Taipan.
"Don't you know who you belong to? You're mine. Always was, always will be. It's about time you realize that."
Her voice is loud, booming, really, it causes (Y/N)'s ears to ring from how loud her best friend was being but all of it - the anger, the bottled up jealousy and affection exploding out of her - sent a shiver down her spine. It was also making her soaked, dripping with wetness.
"F-Fuck..." it's the first thing she's said all day and a bit of Harley is thankful the girl still knows how to speak, that she didn't totally scare her off with showing her dominate side. "I'm really sorry, Harl-"
"No." Harley cuts her off, pressing her fingertips to (Y/N)'s lips, smearing lipstick all over her fingers as she does so. "You know what to call me." Harley stood up, crawling off of her best friend as she points to the couch. "Lay on your stomach, ass hanging in the air. You're getting a spanking."
(Y/N) feels warm and tingly all over and she's sure it's a combination of both being so turned on and drunk. Either way, like a good girl, she follows orders. "Mistress..." Her voice is weak, barely above a whisper. "I really am sorry." Her voice shook, as well as her body; every part of her was trembling and shaking. It wasn't out of fear, fuck no - she shook with nothing but excitement.
Harley shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she watches how horny - how desperate - (Y/N) was.
"Look at you, sprawled all out, legs separated, all for me to taste and to enjoy." Harley runs her hand over (Y/N)'s skirt, lifting the fabric up and touches the outside of her panties, loving the way the lace feels underneath the tips of her fingers. She was always a sucker for lace.
Harley pulls her panties down, slowly peeling it off of her thighs and down to her ankles. Licking her lips, Harley smiles a seductive grin, her own wetness pooling inbetween her thighs. (Y/N) was beautiful, without a doubt.
More and more, each second of each passing day, Harley found herself falling more and more in love with the girl. She loved everything about the girl. She could list off everything, tell all of it to (Y/N) but that'd take way too long and she felt as if time was running out and all Harley - really - wanted to do was taste (Y/N) on her tongue, in her mouth.
Harley guides her fingers across (Y/N)'s ass, ghostly brushing along the skin before picking her hand up and slamming it down, earning a loud whimper and yelp to come from (Y/N)'s lips.
"Fuck.... more, please, mistress, give me more. I've been so bad, such a naughty little thing, I deserve it. Please." Harley grinned wickedly, giggling softly as she raises her hand again and lifts it back down. One slap followed another which followed another. (Y/N) was begging for it and Harley fucking loved every single second of it.
"I know you deserve it because you're a slut, aren't you, princess? You're a filthy, dirty whore." Harley slams her hand onto (Y/N)'s ass again, rougher than the previous ones.
(Y/N) whimpers and pushes back up against Harley's hand, nodding eagerly. "Y-yes.... need to be punished. Please, punish me." (Y/N) sobs, broken little cries falling from her mouth.
"That's just what you want, isn't it, baby?" Harley cooed, taking her hand off of (Y/N)'s bottom before reaching down and gazing her thumb over (Y/N)'s cute little clit.
"You want to be punished, don't you? Because you like it, right? Love it when I fuck you with a fake, plastic cock. Love the feeling of my fingers being buried deep inside your cunt. You love all of it - punishment or no punishment - because you're a fucking slut."
(Y/N)'s whines are - somehow - even louder than before and she's nodding rapidly, Harley giggles at the sight because her movements remind her of a bobblehead. "Please," (Y/N) begged. "Please, fuck me. Give it to me, nice and rough, just the way I like it. Show me who I belong to, Harley.... mistress, I meant... Mistress, please... I want it. I need it. I want your fingers, your tongue, anything, please."
Harley knows by the sound of her voice, (Y/N) has tears in her eyes and she's willing to be fucked just by anything at this point.
"Filthy thing, you are." Harley murmurs, licking her lips before sinking to the floor. "Turn over, baby. Let's see how soaked you are."
Doing as she's told, (Y/N) rolls over and sits up, back against the cushions of the couch as she displays her pussy for Harley. "Want Mistress to fuck you, huh? Fuck your tight little core until you're sore in the morning and can't walk without a limp? Want me to mark you up so everybody knows you're mine?"
All (Y/N) does is nod, far too flustered for words.
"Say it. I want to hear you say it." Harley growled as her fingers shove their way inside (Y/N)'s eager and dripping wet cunt.
Moaning, (Y/N) nods as she throws her head back. "Mark me, Har. Make me your bitch. Fuck me like you hate me, please."
Harley smiles widely as she adds another finger, happily going to do exactly that.
"You're so tight, baby girl.... fucking dripping on my fingers." Harley cooed as she scissors her fingers back and forth, pushing and pulling, twisting and turning.
Before (Y/N) has any time to reply, or even say anything at all, Harley's mouth is at her heat and (Y/N) groans at the sudden and unexpected gesture. Harley hums, sending vibrations all over (Y/N)'s body. This causes her hips to jerk upward, moan after moan slipping out of her mouth.
Harley swirls her tongue back and forth, inside and out, making sure her pussy wasn't going to go untouched. Every part of her womanhood, she licked and sucked on. Harley gazed up and a blush washes over her cheeks as she notices (Y/N) had already been looking down at her.
She was sparkling, loving the triumph at the mess she was making out of her dear and lovely best friend. (Y/N) could feel that white and hot tension building in the pit of her stomach. Her entire body was broken out with goose bumps and she was shaking, trembling like a leaf.
Her moans grew louder in volume, more high pitched, her nails dug into the cushion of the couch and as she closes her eyes, she's quick to reopen them due to the fact Harley had stopped what she was doing.
"Hey, I was enjoying myself-"
"This is a punishment, remember, doll? Now, be a good girl and eat my pussy out. You were born to be my good pussy eater, weren't you? So, get to work. Get to pleasing me; your Mistress."
(Y/N) grunts, loving the foul language she spoke as she gets off the couch and falls to her knees, quick to put her mouth to good use.
Above her, Harley hummed in delight, slowly rocking her hips back and forth against (Y/N)'s warm and wet mouth. "There ya go... there's my good girl." Harley purred, lids fluttering close as she enjoys the way (Y/N)'s tongue feels against her clit.
Harley hadn't known how worked up she was until a few seconds pass and just as quickly as they started, she's spilling all her fluids and juices onto (Y/N)'s face, coating her skin with her cum.
"Fuck... 'm sorry about that, princess...... You just had me so worked up. Really, I've been thinkin about you all day. And I saw you with that guy and I just.... I got a little jealous, y'know?"
"No reason to be," (Y/N) replied, licking off the remains of Harley's orgasm off of her lips. "I was just havin' some fun. Besides, like you said, I'm yours. Always will be, always have been. Now, enough of this mushy chick flick moment, are you going to pound me and wreck me or not?"
Harley laughs and nods, taking (Y/N) up off of her feet and kisses her, not minding the taste of herself on her best friend - well, girlfriend's - lips.
"Let's go then, shall we?" (Y/N) giggles loudly as Harley, as she had done before, lifts her up and carries her off to the bedroom.
"We're together now though, right?"
"Yes, of course, dumbass."
"Just needed that confirmed."
"Of course, baby, I love you. I’m sorry I had such a hard time admitting that until today... Now, open that mouth up and let me choke you with this fake cock before I dick you down with it."
#Margot Robbie#Margot Robbie x Reader#Margot Robbie x femreader#GXG#my works#Harley Quinn x femreader#Harley Quinn x reader#Harley Quinn fanfic#Harley Quinn imagines#Margot Robbie imagines#Margot Robbie fanfic#Harley Quinn#Harley Quinn x reader smut#Harley Quinn smut#GXG smut#cierra's stories
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Take this request however you’d like! A Flip’s titty appreciation post? Just about how he enjoys them. Whether it be sleeping on them, enjoying just looking at them when the Mrs is around, touching on them just randomly while you’re together. A little somethin’ somethin’ along those lines? 🤠
A/N: Lol when I first read this prompt I thought you meant you wanted some appreciation of Flip's tits!! I was like oh yeah, someone's gotta put a bra on that man lol! But then I read it again and realized that's not what you meant lol. I hope you enjoy this short fluffy something!
1k, warnings: mentions of pregnancy, and Flip being handsy and obsessed with tits but it's not smut really lol
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“God, today -- fucking -- !” Flip slams the door a little more aggressively than he intends to, taking in a deep breath to really emphasize, “Sucked!”
What a nightmare work had been, Flip thinks with a deep scowl, as he steps out of his shoes and jacket, leaving them in a disheveled heap on the floor, before going back and righting it because he knows you’d be pissed if he left it like that.
“Is that my honey I hear?” Speaking of you, Flip is a little bummed that you’re not right at the door to greet him like you are most days, because he sure as shit could use a kiss or a dozen right about now.
“Ugh.” Is all he manages to get out, before going on a hunt around the house for you, incorrectly heading into the kitchen first, hoping that dinner might be ready for him. It is, but you’re not there, and you’re more important, despite his growling stomach.
He hears you laughing a little at his theatrics, following the sound of your voice into the living room, where you say those four magic words that make all his bad days turn into good ones, “Aw cheer up, here, wanna see my tits?”
Like magic, his mood is improved, and he makes his way over to the sunken living room where you’ve got reruns of the Dick Van Dyke show to keep you company as you iron. He leans against the arch that separates the dining and living rooms, and watches as you put the iron up on its little stand, away from one of his dress shirts that you’d been working on.
You make a little show of it, unbuttoning the blouse you’re wearing one button at a time, your shoulders giving a little shimmy that makes your tits bounce as you let it drop into the to-iron pile, unclasping your bra tantalizingly slow. Flip can’t help but chew on his lip, the anticipation of seeing your perfect tits nearly killing him.
The torture only lasts a few more moments though, before you let the bra drop altogether, and Flip takes three big strides across the living room to get his hands on you, the way they’ve been itching to all day while he was stuck undercover with these fucking guys on this new fucking case.
“God ketsl,” He breathes out a low whistle, getting his palms full of your flesh and kneading your tits, “You’re a stunner.”
“I know.” You give him a cheeky grin, but Flip shakes his head, leaving down to kiss you all over your face -- your cheeks, your neck, your throat, making his way down in an awkward sort of bend, an attempt to get your nipples in his mouth. You laugh a little and swat at his shoulder, and he straightens up out of fear of accidentally bumping into the iron.
“No no, I mean really. How the fuck did a guy like me ever get you?” Flip backs you away from the ironing board a little, pushes you against the back of the couch, never once taking his hands off your chest.
“You don’t look half bad either.” One of your hands begins combing through Flip’s hair, short soothing scratches against his skull as you tease, “In fact, in the right lighting, you’re kinda handsome.”
That gets a chuckle out of your husband, and you’re pleased, glad that whatever had been bothering him at work was no match for the power of your presence.
“What are you doing?” Flip’s eyes are starry when he looks at you, rubs his nose against yours.
“Putting together a model airplane, what does it look like I’m doing?” You roll your eyes, leaning up to press your lips to his, always forgetting how much you miss him until he finally comes home from his stressful and dangerous job.
“Honey you can’t expect me to look anywhere other than right...” Flip grabs your tits in his palms again, getting a better grip on them to push them together and smack smooches to the tops of them that his fingers can’t quite cover, “...Here.”
“Alright hold on cowboy,” You laugh, pushing him away for a moment to much protesting, instead leading him over to the couch properly, nudging for him to, “Lay down.”
“No, you first.” Flip arranges and rearranges the cushions so that your back is supported, and the small act of care has your playful mood softening into something a tiny bit more tender.
Feeling stupid that you’re just in bottoms, you take them off, laying down on the couch in your underwear. Flip doesn’t bother taking his clothes off too, but that’s alright with you, he’s wearing his soft shirt and those worn jeans of his, nothing’s going to be abrasive against your skin.
“Careful, they’re a little tender right now.” You encourage him to lay down on top of you, mindful of the small baby bump. Your tits have gotten bigger from the pregnancy, and even though Flip was always a little too into them before he knocked you up, he’s all too excited to get his face snuggled against them now.
“They’re perfect.” He sighs out, trying to find a good spot to get one of his hands cupping your left, his face resting on your right.
“Are you comfortable?” You joke, knowing that he could live right there if you’d let him.
“Mmmmmhm.” Nuzzling his nose against your nipple, he kisses all over the spots that he can reach with his mouth, his body tucked up against you. The hand on your left breast gives gentle squeezes, and you smile fondly down at him, kissing his temple, before carding your fingers through his hair once again.
“You know, I’m not so sure you don’t have a complex.” You tease, and unexpected laughter shakes through your husband’s frame.
It’s not that he’s always been a tits guy, Flip doesn’t think. It’s always just been you, your body drives him crazy. The stash of wet white t-shirt polaroids he has of you in his desk could probably get him fired if anyone ever went snooping, there’s just something about the feeling of your nipple hardening against his tongue that makes his life so much better.
“You’re probably right but I don’t want to be confronted with that right now.” He grumbles, and you grin, knowing that whatever is going on in that brain of his, you’re encouraging, because how could you ever say no to your lumberjack of a man when what he wants is so easy to provide?
“Fair enough.” You muse, twirling some of his shaggy hair around your finger, “Will you help me with the ironing? It’ll go by faster if you put the shit on the hangers.”
“You bet your ass I will ketsl...in a minute.” Flip wedges his face into your cleavage, pushing your tits together once again to smother himself between them, “I just want to lay here for a minute.”
Rolling your eyes fondly, you reach down to the extension cord where the iron is plugged in, and press the power switch. At some point, he’ll have to get off of you so the two of you can eat dinner, at which point you can turn it back on, but you know that as the rain picks up outside, Flip is not going to be getting up anytime soon.
That’s alright with you, you think, happy to hug him and watch tv together on the couch for a while, and maybe, if he gets worked up enough, have a little sex. You can’t blame him of course, you think with a big smile, you are, after all, a stunner.
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Tagging some Flip loving friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @miabelay11 @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea @princessflip
#flip zimmerman#flip zimmerman x reader#flip zimmerman/reader#flip zimmerman x you#adam driver fanfic#adcu#flip zimmerman imagine#blackkklansman
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I got this idea into my head of mammon reaching a breaking point and getting really jealous. He decides to tie mc up and play with his most prized possession😈
I hope you two don’t mind that I put these two as one! I just saw two smuts of Mammon and was like ‘perfect’ 👀 ok anyway thank you, I love these requests
Jealous Mammon
WARNING: NSFW // Smut // Breeding Kink // Bondage // Blood
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Mammon normally comes in unannounced, it wasn’t too much of a big deal for you now
Sometimes he walks in on you changing and it’s always a laugh to see his face turn bright red and his entire personality change
But besides that, today it was just you and Levi, having a lazy day, lounging around in your pajamas binging a new anime he’s recently got you into
He were lay between your legs watching the show as he was the one who suggested trying it out since he saw it in an anime the once
Obviously you wanted to try it out too as you played with his hair, feeding him popcorn every couple seconds and enjoying some time with him
But suddenly, the door flies open and in comes Mammon, once again completely unaware of his surroundings as his face was in his D.D.D
He sits down on the bed right next to Levi, still unaware you weren’t alone
“Oi, MC, I’m bored, entertain me-“
He then looks up to see your hand on Levi’s head, your fingers tangled in his hair as you both looked at him embarrassed
He jumps up from the bed and starts complaining about Levi being too close, the usual Mammon
You sigh, realising you weren’t going to be able to finish this series in peace and look at Levi apologetically
He sighs too and gives you a weak smile, getting up and packing his things to go before glaring at his brother and leaving
You shake your head and look at Mammon in front of you
“You didn’t have to start yelling you know... we weren’t doing anything”
He looks at you as if you just cussed out his entire family
“What do you mean, nothing?! He was way too close to you!”
His voice was frantic and you could hear the jealousy spike in his tone, to which you smirk at him teasingly
You pat the bed besides you and shuffle over to make room for him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder when he sits down next to you
You hear him sigh and rub his face into your neck, the hot sensation of his breath tingling your bare skin
He reaches for your hand like a small kid who just finished their tantrum and kisses your fingers, looking at you as if to apologise
You laugh slightly and kiss his head, feeling his body instinctively press against you
“You know...”
You hear him begin; looking down to see him covering his face so you’re not quite sure how he’s feeling
“Why does he get to touch you and I can’t?”
You hum in confusion before he gets up and straddles you unexpectedly, looking down at you with your wrists pinned at your sides
You peer up at him, watching his eyes burn with jealousy, and pings of lust
You squeeze your legs together as he presses harder on your wrists, feeling quite aroused at the position you two had found yourself in
He leans forwards to steal a kiss, then another and another and before long, he had his hand wrapped in your hair, tugging it tightly as his tongue explores your mouth, licking and tasting your tongue playfully
You moan against his lips as his spare hand squeezes between your thighs, pleasuring you as he finds himself reaching a point of no return
He spreads your legs apart, getting off of you for a mere second so he can drag you down the bed and sit between your open thighs
He caresses your inner thighs and trails his finger dangerously close to your crotch, causing you to bite down on your lip
He eyes up at you as he leans down to plant kisses all up your legs and thighs, then biting harshly on the sensitive parts; feeling his sharp canines dig into your skin and cause it to bleed when he realises his grip
You tilt your head back as he begins to pull down your shorts, almost like he’s in a rush and desperate to stick his cock deep inside of you
You feel his erection on your leg and you let loose a quick moan, your underwear now clearly on show for him as he starts to pleasure you with his finger
You reach up to grab him but he slams your hands back down, looking at you to stay still, to which you abide
You see him start to unbuckle his belt, eying you every couple seconds and then leaning forward to tie it around your wrists, pushing your hands above your head and tightening the strap until you thought it would cut off your circulation
You lay helplessly on the bed as Mammon ran his hand down your body, teasing your nipples, kissing your stomach and playing with your private parts naughtily
You raise your hips into his hand and moan his name, noticing his bulge twitch in anticipation
He couldn’t hold back any longer as he slips down his boxers and pulls your underwear aside, grabbing his cock and pushing his entire length into you suddenly, causing you to jolt forwards and cry out
Your hands were restrained above your head so you could only lie there as Mammon grips and spanks your thighs and ass, pounding into you with desperation so the bed is slamming against the wall behind you
You cry out his name as his nails dig into you, leaving bloody little marks in your skin as he bends down to whisper in your ear
“Try and be quiet... unless you want my brothers to know how hard I’m fucking you right now...”
You let out a breath you never knew you were holding as he catches your lips with his, kissing you passionately as you feel his cock enter in and out of you, pleasuring every inch and making you feel so good
“I wonder what you’d do if I just shot my load deep inside of your pretty little hole...”
You look up at him in surprise as he stares back at you in all seriousness, his thrusts getting rougher as you feel yourself getting close already
He continued to whisper dirty things in your ear; how badly he wants to cum in you and watch his sperm slowly leak out and trickle down your ass
You groan, feeling so painfully aroused in the moment that you’d let him do anything as long as you can feel his warm semen enter inside of you and make you feel completely filled up
You beg him to cum, his teeth now biting down on your neck and collar bones and leaving teeth marks and hickeys all over you whilst he rails you into the mattress, now no longer caring who hears as long as he gets to hear you cry out his name
Your legs begin to tremble and you wrap them subconsciously around his waist, squeezing tightly and not letting him go until he empties himself inside of your hole
He makes his last thrusts as you feel the hot liquid enter your body, filling you up completely as you let out a low moan and thrust your hips into him; finally finding yourself reaching your climax as well
He grabs your thighs a final time before pulling out, his cum already seeping out of you and dirtying the sheets
He takes a final look at you all tied up and bruised, your skin already turning purple from the bites and the hickeys
He smirks as he traces his fingers over the marks, admiring his most prized possession all claimed
He leans down to eventually untie your wrists, feeling relief as you feel the blood rush back to them
Your wrists were red raw, a clear line from where he aggressively tied the belt too tight, and now a clear indication that you’d been fucked by the Great Mammon himself
He smiles apologetically and kisses your wrists, not meaning to tie them that tight but somewhat happy and proud that it’s another mark that he made on you anyway
He grabs your discarded shorts from off the floor and wipes up the mess between your thighs; pulling your underwear back in its place and lying between your legs, satisfied and with a shit eating grin on his lips
You roll your eyes and pet his head, twirling strands of his messy, white hair around your fingers, thoroughly exhausted
You yawn and bend down to kiss his head a final time before falling asleep with Mammon still between your legs
He looks up at you asleep and smiles, moving to settle next to you in bed, holding you tightly in his arms and keeping you warm
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me fanfiction#obey me fanfic#obey me mammon smut#obey me mammon#obey me mc#mammon x mc#mammon x reader#omnsfw
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hello love! i was wondering if you could write a fred x gryffindor reader in which she is in the same year as ron and he’s constantly flirting with her, so she gives him the same energy but inside she’s afraid he’s like that with everyone and that she might be just another one but the truth is that he’s hopelessly in love with her? maybe george can give him a push? maybe a fluffy ending? thank you so muchhh 🥰
smiling kisses // fred weasley
masterlist!
a/n: ok when i wrote this i had interpreted it as you wanting ron and the reader to be friends and now i’m rereading it and you didnt explicitly say that, so i hope you don’t mind that I made them friends lol! i love the flirty but clueless trope and fred is the perfect person for this. thanks for your request! i’m actually so proud of this and I hope you like it!!!!!
(4.2k)
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“I don’t see what the big deal is!” Ron said, rolling his eyes at Hermione.
“He’s your brother, certainly it must bother you,” she retorted, undeterred by his exasperated tone.
You bounded down the stairs, your hand grazing the wall as you turned to meet your friends. They looked at you, and Hermione’s face flushed red.
“Talking about me?” you teased, sliding onto the couch in between the two of them.
Ron smirked at Hermione, and her face grew redder.
“You were, weren’t you?” you said playfully, throwing your arms behind each of them, pulling them closer.
“Hermione was,” Ron mumbled, and Hermione reached across your lap and pinched Ron’s arm.
“Ouch!” he said, and before you could ask what they were saying about you, the topic of Hermione and Ron’s previous conversation sauntered through the portrait hole.
It only took Fred a second to find you, sandwiched between his brother and Hermione. He and George strolled over, leaning over the back of the couch and putting their faces close to yours. They were on either side of you, and Hermione squeezed out of your grasp and cringed away from them. Ron wrapped a long arm around George’s neck, pulling him over the couch and onto the floor in front of you.
“That was a mistake, Ickle Ronniekins,” George taunted, leaping from his spot on the ground. Ron’s smile faded and he scrambled to move off the couch, missing George’s grasp by an inch as he stumbled up the stairs.
“Ah, boys,” you exhaled, pretending to be awestruck. Hermione giggled from her spot in the corner of the couch, and Fred retracted his head from beside yours.
He walked to the front of the couch and took Ron’s spot, sitting close to you. Your thighs touched, and your school skirt had rose while sitting. Fred’s eyes drifted to the exposed skin, and he raked his gaze over you. You watched his eyes move, and when they met yours a smirk flirted on your lips and you rolled your eyes.
“Very charming, Fred,” you said, moving to pull your skirt down.
“Don’t cover up on my accord, darling,” he said, leaning back into the couch and spreading his arms across the length of the cushions.
“Really, Fred?” Hermione said from besides you, shifting uncomfortably and scowling.
“You look nice too, ‘Mione,” Fred gave her a charming smile and her scowl deepened.
“Don’t let him bother you, he’s all talk and no bite,” you said, turning towards Hermione and away from Fred.
He tugged at a piece of your hair, and you turned to face him again, an eyebrow quirked.
He had an evil smirk on his face, and his eyes were a little darker than usual.
“You think?” he asked, a flirtatious tone dripping from his tongue.
Hermione groaned loudly, fed up with the antics of teenaged boys. She stood and grabbed your hand, pulling you from the couch. Fred was disappointed to see you leave, but he enjoyed the view. You looked over your shoulder, and sent him a flirty wave, which only widened his smirk.
George had given up his chase after Ron’s dormitory door slammed shut in his face. He walked down the stairs in time to see Fred nearly drooling on the couch, watching you leave through the portrait hole with Hermione.
“You’re hopeless,” he said, sitting opposite of Fred on an armchair.
“Shut up,” Fred retorted, still staring dreamily at the portrait hole where you had been moments ago.
“When are you gonna tell her?”
“I tell her just about every day!” Fred said, turning to look at his brother.
“No, you flirt with her. There’s a difference,” George said, picking off a piece of lint from his sweater.
“How can she not know by now?” Fred sighed, sinking deeper into the couch and covering his face with his hands.
“You have to be upfront with her, tell her outright,” George proposed, beginning to twirl his wand between his fingers.
“Maybe,” Fred mumbled.
“It’s disgusting!” Hermione shouted for the twelfth time, her tone just as disapproving as the first.
“I’m sure he’s like that with everyone,” you reassured her, “and I don’t even mind it.”
“How can you not mind it?” she said, looking at you like you were out of your mind.
“I don’t know,” you twirled your fingers behind your back, “I think it’s a bit charming. He’s not always that unseemly, usually, it’s much tamer.”
“How often does he do that?” she asked, her tone softening a bit.
“I don’t know, most times I see him, I guess,” you admitted, smiling at the thought of it.
Hermione stopped walking suddenly like she was frozen in her spot. You turned to her, and her mouth was agape.
“You like him!” she shouted accusingly, pointing a shaky finger at you.
“Hermione!” you moved towards her, pushing her finger down.
Your eyes were wide at her accusation, and you felt your face become very warm.
“You do! You absolutely do!” she said again, her voice still too loud.
“Shut up!” you hushed her, pulling her to keep walking.
“Please tell me you don’t,” she pleaded, her face twisted like a child begging their parent for candy.
“Stop!” you hushed her again, wanting to forget about Fred.
“Just tell me, and I’ll drop it, swear,” she said, pulling you down an empty corridor.
“Fine! I like him, just a little,” you admitted, resting your forehead on your hand and looking at the floor.
“Why?” she asked, seemingly dumbfounded.
“I don’t know! Why do you like Ron?” you retorted, and her eyes grew wide.
“I-” she started, stuttering through her words, “that’s not even relevant right now.”
“See? Not as simple as you thought,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the wall.
She did the same, standing next to you, and you both slid down the wall until you were sitting. The stone was cool against your back, and hard beneath your head.
“I suppose it makes sense,” she said finally, turning her head towards you.
“What?” you asked, meeting her eyes.
“Well you’re both always flirting with each other,” she said, recalling all the times she nearly gagged as Fred said something flirtatious to you.
“He flirts with everyone,” you said, sounding defeated, “that’s why I didn’t tell you. He doesn’t like me back.”
“He doesn’t flirt with me,” Hermione started, furrowing her brow, “and he doesn’t look at anyone else the way he looks at you.”
Her tone of disgust changed to the tone she had when she was trying to figure something out, looking at it like it was a puzzle.
“Logically, you have to admit that he may have feelings for you. I mean, who would do all that flirting just to want a friendship?”
You rolled your eyes at Hermione. She sounded like she might be right, but she hadn’t accounted for something; Love and Fred do not follow the rules of logic.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” Fred drawled, sliding into the bench next to you.
“Morning,” you said plainly.
You were a bit haunted by Hermione’s words. You had never thought in depth about yours and Fred’s relationship. He flirted with you, so you flirted back, simple. Now, the threat of real feelings loomed behind each of your words, and the pressure was too much.
“Sleep well?” he asked, leaning his shoulder into you as he scooped some eggs onto his plate.
“Yeah. You?” you kept your head buried in your newspaper, reading the moving advertisements over and over.
Fred looked at you curiously. You were never this dry with him, you always had something on the tip of your tongue. He was worried he went too far yesterday, maybe he had been too obvious. Did you not reciprocate his feelings after all?
“I slept wonderfully. Dreaming about you, of course,” he continued, sounding awfully proper and dragging out the syllables.
You felt your cheeks burn beneath the newspaper, and suddenly Fred’s long fingers were pushing the paper down so he could see you. You struggled to keep it up, but the thin paper eventually crumbled and you dropped it. You looked up at him, his smile widening when he saw your blush.
“Aww,” he said, moving to pinch your cheek endearingly.
He had only been able to pinch one before you swatted his hand away.
“Stop it,” you said, no infliction or seriousness in your voice.
“Can’t help it,” he said, balancing his cheek in his palm and staring at you.
You fought the shy smile rising on your lips and rolled your eyes at him. He was leaning closer to you, smiling. Just as he was inches away, peering into your eyes, you pulled the newspaper up to separate you two. Ron laughed evilly next to you, having watched the entire exchange.
Fred reached behind you and hit Ron upside the head. He cleared his throat awkwardly and straightened his tie, moving his attention to George who was sat across from him.
Fred caught his twin’s eyes and widened them as if to ask “did you just see that?”. George gave him a sympathetic nod, feeling some second-hand embarrassment for his brother.
Hermione pulled you away from Harry and Ron the second you left breakfast, and you wondered why she hadn’t tried out for beater with the grip she had.
“Ouch! Hell of a grip, ‘Mione!” you mumbled to her when you were out of the boy’s earshot.
“I wanted to talk to you, mind if we go the long way?” she asked, not waiting for your answer as she pulled you down a hallway with long rays of sunshine casting onto the floor.
“What’s up?” you said, finally being released.
“What was all that with Fred? It looked like he was going to kiss you for Merlin’s sake!” she waved her hands while she talked, nearly hitting your shoulder.
You ducked and widened your eyes at her evaluation of breakfast. Was Fred trying to kiss you? At 7 in the morning? That was his grand plan if he did like you?
“No he wasn’t!” you said with disbelief. It had come out more like a gasp than a protest, and Hermione’s eyes widened at your cluelessness.
“He was! And you put up the newspaper! It was horribly awkward, really,” Hermione rambled, ignoring your loud and embarrassed groan and the sound of your palm hitting your face.
“I thought he was just being annoying,” you mumbled, replaying the events in your mind, “I mean who kisses someone right before breakfast?”
“This is going to be difficult,” she said, seeming to be lost in thought.
“What is?”
“Getting you two together, of course,” Hermione said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
George was tired of Fred’s elongated sighs and downcast lips.
“It wasn’t that bad,” he reassured his brother for the millionth time.
“It was awful,” Fred groaned, hiding his face into the wall they were leaning against.
“She probably didn’t even realize, mate,” George said, but he knew he didn’t mean it. He had very little hope for his brother.
“She doesn’t fancy me, it’s confirmed,” Fred said miserably, trying to suppress the very real sadness he was feeling.
Fred moped around for the next few days, and it was starting to affect George. Fred never wanted to go to the common room in case you were there, and they locked themselves away in their dorm most afternoons.
George had to cheer his brother up, Lee was no replacement when it came to pranks. The idea had struck him one of the many afternoons he spent looking out the window by his bed, longing for Quidditch season. He had been thinking about how amazing it would be to be out on the pitch, beating Slytherin 100-0, when he was inspired. He sat from his spot on the windowsill and told his brother all about the genius plan.
The next morning, they had gotten to the Great Hall early, as they discussed. They had cast all the charms and were waiting to watch the results. The other tables slowly began to fill up, and the genius of George’s plan was that he knew Snape was calling a house meeting this morning. This meant that when all the Slytherins would come down for breakfast, everyone would already be there to watch the prank.
Even though his eyes were locked onto the Slytherin table, Fred did not miss you walking in with Ron. You and Ron usually slept late, and often missed breakfast if it weren’t for Hermione. Fred watched your eyes divert his own, instead, focusing very hard on what Ron was saying. His happiness faltered for a moment, until George elbowed him, bringing his attention to the herd of Slytherins walking in.
The first people to sit on the benches were promptly launched into the air, and one of them happened to be Draco Malfoy, which really was the icing on the cake in Fred’s opinion. More and more people began bouncing on the bench like it was made of a bouncy rubber (it was) and laughs filled the hall. The bench made a comedic wobbling sound as it bent and curved to each student falling onto it. Arms flailed and eyes widened.
Dumbledore’s icy eyes looked entertained for a moment before he waved his wand and all of the students were frozen in the air. He guided them to the ground safely and instructed them not the get back on the bench. The group of students in green ties scowled, immediately looking towards the Gryffindor table. The twins smiled and waved innocently, standing to the sound of wild applause. They couldn’t help it, they were willing to take the credit if it meant detention.
And it did mean detention. Snape had walked over so fast, that Fred and George felt a gust of air as the black cloak halted in front of them.
They were charged with polishing the hundreds of cauldrons in Snape’s room and had to take extra care to Snape’s personal large cauldron in the front of the room.
They had been doing this for a few days, their spirits yet to be broken. They were given a brush the size of a fingernail, though, so they weren’t making much progress.
Sneaking out past curfew wasn’t something you and Harry did often, but tonight you found yourselves doing it quite easily. You realized, while studying with Hermione, that you had left your Potions textbook at the girl's bathroom in the dungeons. You made Harry go with you to retrieve it because you were too scared to go on your own. He offered you the invisibility cloak and you gladly accepted, moving close to him as he slid it over you and you made your way to the dungeons.
You held your breath almost the entire time, and Harry had to remind you to keep your eyes open. He nearly yelped when you stepped on his foot for the fifth time.
“Sorry!” you whispered, giving him an apologetic look.
You eventually made it to the dungeons, slowly creeping down the stairs. You entered the hall and saw that the door to Snape’s classroom was open, some light coming from it. Harry looked at you and you shrugged.
You slid from under the cloak and slipped into the bathroom. You easily found your textbook and hurried to the door. When you opened it, you figured it might be stuck, because the door wouldn’t open. Harry might be playing a joke, you thought, so you chuckled and pushed harder. The door swung open, and you fell to the floor. When you got up, dusting your knees, you realized who you had knocked to the ground. Snape was a mess of black clothing, his greasy hair scattered across his face.
“Professor! I’m so sorry!” you began, still speaking in a hushed tone.
“I hadn’t realized you were out here, I thought the door was stuck!” you continued, watching him slowly get to his feet, a look of rage slowly overcoming his features.
“What are you doing out past curfew?” he snarled, dusting off his robes.
You looked around, and couldn’t find Harry. He must have put the invisibility cloak on. You couldn’t blame him, he definitely would have gotten the worst of it from Snape. You glanced behind Snape, towards his classroom. Two redheads were peeking out from the crack in the door. It was Fred and George. You remembered they had gotten detention for their prank a few days ago. Your cheeks became a deep red, out of fear and embarrassment.
“I was trying to study sir, but then I realized I had left my textbook down here. I had to get it, I have to finish the essay you assigned,” you said, trying to sound as innocent as possible.
You heard a snicker from Snape’s classroom, undoubtedly from Fred, and Snape whirled around to face them.
“You two! You’re dismissed, back here tomorrow, same time,” Snape snarled, and when neither of them moved he raised his voice, “go!”
They walked off slowly, looking over their shoulders at you. You ducked your head down, trying to hide your face.
“You will be joining them for detention this week,” Snape snarled, peering down at you with disgust, “cleaning my cauldrons.”
You sighed, nodding your head. It was already Wednesday, so you supposed you’d only have to do it for two days.
“Yes, sir,” you mumbled and rushed past him and up the stairs.
When you climbed the stairs, you put your hand over your heart, trying to slow it down. Coming to the final step, you were met with three too joyful faces.
“Rotten luck,” George said.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Harry said, only his head peeking out from the cloak.
“Professor! I’m so sorry!” Fred finished, imitating your voice and tumbling into George as you had tumbled into Snape.
You blushed, even more, feeling your entire face get red.
“Some help you are, Harry,” you said, shoving his invisible shoulder.
He stumbled back and gave you an apologetic smile. You and Harry walked a few paces in front of the twins, arguing over whose fault the whole thing was.
Fred watched you, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He had so much he wanted to say to you, so much he wanted to finally confess, but it was stuck in his throat.
“Well, now you’re going to be stuck in a room with her,” George began, talking only so Fred could hear him, “maybe now you’ll tell her.”
Fred rolled his eyes, “Yeah, and maybe the sky will be red tomorrow.”
George huffed out a breath, tired of hearing his brother’s excuses. George was a big believer in saying how you felt, and he was sick of this little cat and mouse game you and Fred were playing.
The four of you slipped into the portrait hole, and you were upset to see it was just as crowded as when you left. Hermione and Ron were huddled over their Transfiguration homework, and she was talking animatedly to Ron about a vanishing spell she had read about.
“Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Hermione said as you settled into the couch next to her.
“Just Professor Snape,” George teased from an armchair next to her.
“You got caught?” she said as if she was asking if they had also killed someone while they were out.
“Oh yeah, Snape caught her right as she fell on top of him!” Fred called from where he stood behind George.
Harry offered no help, sitting lamely on the floor by Ron’s feet. You hid your face behind Hermione, slumping into her.
“Are you alright?” she asked, trying to lift your head from her shoulder.
“It was so bad,” you said, cringing as you remembered it.
The twins laughed loudly, drawing the attention of anyone who was near them. Harry began to chuckle and Hermione hit his shoulder.
“What happened?” she asked, finally sitting you back upright
“Harry was supposed to keep watch!” you said, standing and pointing down at him accusingly.
“I was!”
“Then how did Snape end up right in front of the door?”
“He just walked there? What was I meant to do?”
“I don’t know! You could have given me a little knock so I didn’t bust the door down on him!”
You and Harry yelled at each other with no real aggression, and a smile flickered on your lips when you couldn’t suppress it anymore.
George jumped from his chair and pulled Fred to stand in front of everyone. George pretended to be pushing down a door, which made Fred become brooding and intimidating like Snape. He twisted his face into a scowl and hugged his arms around his waist as if he was holding shut a robe. George fell onto Fred, sending Fred to the ground. George stood, putting on an exaggerated innocent look and covering his pouting mouth with his hands.
“Professor!” he raised his voice to the highest octave it would go, “I am so sorry!”
“Detention!” Fred screamed, copying Snape’s signature drawl.
“Yes, sir,” George screeched, putting his hands in his face and pretending to cry.
“I did not cry!” you said, laughing.
“Oh, you didn’t? Could have sworn we heard some crying,” George said, wrapping a brotherly arm around your shoulder.
“You got detention?” Hermione asked, standing from her seat with a bewildered expression.
“Yeah, two days with these idiots,” you said, pointing a thumb at Fred and George.
You met Fred’s eyes, and his laughter soon faded to a look of admiration. You looked away from him, blushing.
“Oh, that’s awful!” Hermione said, falling back into the couch.
You moved from George’s arm and sat next to Hermione again, pulling your Potions textbook to your lap. You peaked at Hermione’s, trying to find the right page.
Harry and Ron were still laughing, and a smile ghosted your lips.
You managed to finish your Potions essay, and upon seeing Snape’s glare when you turned it in, you were not looking forward to detention.
You said goodbye to a disappointed Hermione, and giggling Ron and Harry, sulking down to the dungeons where you had to spend your evening.
“Here,” Snape handed you the smallest cleaning brush you had ever seen and shoved a filthy cauldron into your arms.
You sank into a stool and cradled the heavy thing in your hands, dipping the brush into a cleaning solution Snape gave you. He left the room with a sweep of his robes, and the thought of using magic to clean the cauldrons crossed your mind. You decided against it though, figuring Snape would just give you some other act of labor to do instead.
You waited for the twins to stumble in, they were already late. When they eventually showed up, according to your watch, 20 minutes late, there was only one of them. Fred’s tie hung undone around his neck, and his collar was unkempt.
“Hello, love,” he said, pulling up a stool across from you and moving a cauldron between his hands as if it weighed nothing.
“Hi, Fred,” you said, smiling politely at him, “where’s George?”
Fred sighed and put the brush to the cauldron.
“Prank backfired, he’s in the infirmary for warts,” Fred explained, gesturing to his face, where George presumably had the warts.
“Yuck,” your fast twisted with disgust, but a smile was still there.
Fred chuckled at your reaction and nodded.
“So it’s just us tonight,” Fred said, and insinuation on the tip of his tongue.
“Guess so,” you said, unbothered.
“Haven’t spoken in a while,” he said, looking up at you while you kept your eyes locked on the cauldron in your lap.
“Been busy?” you asked him, hoping he wasn’t going to mention the newspaper incident.
“Oh, this and that,” he said, abandoning the cauldron and resting his elbows on the table, “you?”
“This and that,” you replied, looking up to meet his eyes.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, a smirk contrasting to the genuine tone of his words.
“That’s sweet, Freddie,” you replied, shocking yourself with the levelness of your voice.
“Freddie?” he repeated, undeterred.
“Freddie.”
“Only girlfriends have called me Freddie,” he said, smirking still.
You felt your face warm, “Oh the long list of girlfriends you’ve had? Who was there?” you paused, pretending to be in deep thought, “Angelina for a week or two?”
Fred chuckled, gazing at you.
“Future girlfriends too,” he said simply.
It took you a second to realize what he had meant, and when you did you were sure you were bright red. Your hand brushing the cauldron stopped. You tried to think of something to say, focusing on keeping a steady voice, but all you could think of was: “Shut up.”
Fred laughed, his shoulders shaking. He shook his head with something like amazement at you, grinning like a fool.
“Do you want to call me Freddie?” he said suddenly after it had been quiet for a while, his tone a little serious.
“What?” you squinted your eyes in confusion.
“Do you want to call me Freddie? Like a girlfriend would,” he said, and his face was stern. His eyes were locked onto yours.
“Do I want to be your girlfriend?” you repeated to him, your mouth open in shock.
“Do you?” he said, leaning over the table, closer to you.
“Fred,” you said, feeling dumbstruck. You didn’t know what to say, but a smile crept onto your face.
“Yeah,” you said finally, and his eyes widened.
“Really?” he said, smiling like a mad man.
“Really,” you repeated, nodding.
“Cool,” he said, still smiling widely and not knowing what to do with himself.
“Cool?” you laughed, putting the cauldron down.
Fred stood from his stool and pounded his fist into the air, celebrating.
You laughed, covering your face in your hands.
You felt him move to stand next to you, and you lifted your head, looking up at him. He gazed down at you, still smiling.
“Freddie,” you teased, dragging out the word.
His smile turned into a crooked grin. He pulled your face up to his, cupping your cheeks.
His dazed smile didn’t falter as he pressed his lips to yours, and you found it feeling quite awkward. His lips were pulled tight into a closed smile, and his eyes were wide open with glee as he kissed you. You pulled away, laughing and ducking your face into his chest. You felt his chest move with laughter, his arms snaking around you. His fingers toyed with the hem of your sweater until his long, nimble fingers ducked under it. He traced little swirls on the skin of your lower back, and you pressed your cheek against his chest.
“Call me Freddie again?” he said, and you could hear the smile on his face.
“I don’t know,” you trailed, pulling your face away from him and looking at him through your eyelashes, “you might enjoy it too much.”
He groaned teasingly, his head lulling back as he looked at the ceiling. When he met your gaze again, his smile softened into a plain face. He pulled you from your seat, stepping back an inch to give you just enough room to stand. You were still pressed against him, his arms wrapped around you.
His resting lips were much nicer to kiss, your faces met in just the right way. You thought the two of you may have melted together somehow, moving in perfect synch. One of his hands trailed up your back, tickling you ever so slightly and rested on the back of your neck. He pulled you closer there, deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue in. It grazed your bottom lip, and you felt his eyebrows furrow against your face. He breathed in deeply, his hand on your neck moving to burrow itself in your hair. He grabbed a fistful of it and pulled you back gently. You struggled to open your eyes for a moment, and when you did you saw Fred grinning at you.
You leaned in close again, this time going to his ear. “Freddie,” you whispered.
He leaned back, as if in a fit of laughter, and pulled you into a tight hug. He groaned playfully again, and you laughed at the reaction you could cause.
You slid out of his grasp and back onto the stool. He pulled up the stool next to you and sat very close. Your knees touched, and he watched you dreamily as you began to scrub the cauldron again.
“Finally!” George said as he strolled into the classroom, wart free.
“All patched up?” you asked him, and Fred acted as if George wasn’t even there, still staring at you.
“Oh, yeah, easy fix,” George said, taking Fred’s previous seat across from you. He continued Fred’s cauldron, picking up the discarded brush.
“So you two finally got together?” George asked after some time had passed, glancing up at you while you cleaned.
“What makes you say that?” you asked, elbowing Fred as he leaned very close to your face, like he was memorizing every detail.
“Well, I think Fred is drooling,” George said, kicking his brother’s leg under the table.
#weasley#request#hogwarts#gryffindor#harry potter#fred#fred x y/n#fred imagine#fred fic#fred weasely fic#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley fanfiction#weasley fic#fred weasley fluff
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Thank You, Jerry~ Part 2
Luke Patterson x Alive!Reader
Summary: After getting an afternoon free from the band, Luke decides to see his parents, only to find out something he wasn’t expecting.
A/N: Prologue and Part 1 are on my other account, please read pinned post on this account if you are at all confused! Likes, comments, reblogs (for the love of god please reblog) are highly encouraged. Essentially, this story is back from the dead!
WC: 2.9K
SERIES MASTER
Part 2: And to quote Twilight
---
Last night was a dream, right?
No. There’s no question about it. Last night was a dream. Period. Jerry did not exist. Jerry does not exist. There’s not a ghost haunting your house!
… right?
No!
“Y/N! Get up, or you’re gonna be late!” Your dad’s voice echoes heavily through the house before the front door slams shut when he leaves for work. Not even a moment later, your alarm blares. You don’t move to turn it off, instead you pick up your pillow and press it firmly against your face to muffle the loud scream you release. Was it long? Honestly you had no idea, but it did feel good to get out any possibility that last night wasn’t a dream from your mind.
Ghosts weren’t real, end of story.
Now that you’ve faced that terror of the day, you had another to battle. High school.
Leaving your high school a quarter of the way into your senior year isn’t ideal for most kids, and you were definitely one of them. You hoped the kids and the teachers were nice, but you haven’t really gone to a new school in years. Everyone knows each other at your old school.
Turns out you can blend right into the background at Los Feliz High School.
---
Luke pops back into the studio as Julie is saying goodbye to Alex and Reggie, reminding them to stay out of trouble while she’s at school, as if the boys needed reminders and as if they listened to them.
“Where have you been?” Reggie asks when the guitarist garners their attention.
He hums as if he didn’t hear the question, trying to think of anything to cover up the fact he’s been at your night for hours.
“Just out.” He shrugs and the boys share a look with a Julie.
“You’re not still upset about your parents’ house, are you?” Alex asks from behind his drums, twirling his sticks between his fingers.
Luke stares at the ground for a moment before shaking his head, but he doesn’t say anything. All three pick up on his weird silence, but they aren’t sure exactly what’s causing it.
“Okay, well I’m gonna be late for school, so you guys be good.” Julie says before sending Luke one last worrying look and then another to both Reggie and Alex, urging them to figure him out before she was out the door.
Alex and Reggie exchange a glance before taking seats on opposite sides of Luke.
“Hey buddy.” Reggie begins with a wide, and rather fake, smile. Luke raises a brow at him. “How you doing?”
“Guys.” Luke’s sighs out, falling back against the cushions. “I’m not mad anymore.”
“You sure?” Alex asks not fully believing him.
“Would someone who’s mad do this?” Luke launches himself off the couch and onto the coffee table, presenting his arms out as he stands atop.
Alex and Reggie exchange another worried glance. “Yes, yes they would.” Alex says the same time Reggie says “Dude, you do that when you’re mad all the time.”
Luke huffs in disappointment and falls back into his spot with crossed arms. “Fine, maybe I’m a little mad.” He finally admits. “But I have to tell you guys something.” His voice lost its harshness as Alex and Reggie turn slightly in their seat to listen. He was going to tell them about you, all about his conversation and presence in your life but a strange hesitation stops him. What if Alex and Reggie make him stop visiting you? They probably wouldn’t, but what if they tell Julie and she makes him stop? Did he even want to visit you again? The pit forming in his stomach told him the answer was yes, he does. So instead of telling his best friends, Luke shakes his head and forces a smile. “Never mind. It’s- It’s nothing.”
---
By the time lunch rolls around, you’ve spoken to a total of four people and three of them were teachers. The lunchroom was insane, kids were everywhere, sitting at and on the tables as well as the floor nearby them, it was a miracle you hadn’t stepped on a stray backpack as you looked around for anywhere to just sit and eat. It was loud too, as if the entire school was playing a different song and you begin to finally realize what your father was talking about when he said music was very important at this school.
After a few painful minutes of hunting for a spot, you find a table in the back with just two young girls sitting at one end and so you quickly take a seat at the other. The girls turn their heads and throw you small smiles as you sit down. You can’t hear their conversation apart from one word.
Ghosts.
Did you hear them correctly? Were they talking about ghosts? No. No, you must have misheard. With last night and now their conversation, it was too big of a coincidence.
“Hey.” A soft voice pulls you out of your fretting as you look back at the two girls, both of them watching you curiously. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, you’re holding your fork like it threatened you.” One of them pointed out to the utensil in your hand and you quickly released it, letting it clatter on your plate as you shake your head.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” You assured them, taking another glance around the lunchroom. “Just nervous, I guess. It’s my first day.” They scoot down the table closer to you and you do the same, dragging your tray across the table and making the three of you laugh at the awful sound it makes. “I’m Y/N.”
“Julie.” The first girl waves and smiles.
The second girl also smiles but throws up a peace sign. “Flynn.”
“How are you liking Los Feliz?” Julie asks as she takes a bite of the sandwich in front of her.
You hesitate before sighing. “It’s fine. A little different, but I’ll get used to it.” The girls nod. “Hey, is everyone just really into music here or am I crazy?”
“Well, we can’t count out crazy,” Flynn jokes and considering you’re believing you saw a ghost last night; she had a point. “But you’re either a music person or lacrosse person.” She points over to another table where students in letterman jackets crowd around, laughing so loud you can hear them from across the cafeteria.
You pick at the food in front of you. “So, what are you guys? Music or lacrosse?”
You figured the answer was kind of obvious, they didn’t really seem like lacrosse people, but it was a fair question as both their faces light up.
“Actually, Julie here is in a band and I’m the manager.” Flynn sweeps her hair over her shoulder, and you grow impressed with your new friends.
“Really?” You ask and start to match their smiles. “Would I have heard of you? What’s your name?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Julie says, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “We’re called Julie and the Phantoms.”
“You’re Julie and the Phantoms?” You blurt out, dropping your fork not-so-casually. Julie and Flynn both nod. “Sorry, it’s just my best friend loves you guys. You’re really good.”
“See Jules,” Flynn puts a hand around your shoulder, “the new girl thinks you’re good.”
Wait a second…
Phantoms?
Is that what they were talking about earlier when you overheard ghosts?
“So, phantoms?” You begin, keeping your head low. “Where uh, where did that come from?��
The girls share a look you can’t understand before Julie clears her throat. “Holograms. They’re holograms, my other bandmates. They’re Swedish.”
You stare at her, maybe a little longer than you should before you furrow your brows. “Swedish… holograms?”
They nod.
So not ghosts. Although they wouldn’t just tell you if they were… right?
“Interesting. Very cool though.” Your smile turns normal again and Flynn and Julie let out breaths of relief when you weren’t looking.
The lunch bell rings and you’re forced to pack up your lunch before heading to another boring class you can sit in the back of and pretend you weren’t going crazy last night. Maybe you still were because as you tap your pen against your desk, listening to your teacher ramble on about- well, you weren’t really sure- you couldn’t stop thinking about Jerry.
---
You throw your backpack on the ground by your bed, sending the books toppling out but you don’t pick them up. Instead, you huff and fall on your mattress, tugging the blankets out from under you and wrapping them around your body tightly so only your head in poking out, although it’s squished firmly in the faded pillow lying at the head of your bed.
It had been a long day and Luke could most certainly understand as he watches you from the corner of your room. He glances over to the lamp, sitting on your desk untouched since last night, then he looks back to you.
There was a click, you could hear it through your pillow protection. You blow it off, old house, random noise, you hear random noises all the time. Then it happens again, and again, and again. So, instead of ignoring it, you peak an eye open. You can still hear the clicks, only now with your eye opened, you can see the wall of your room light up. Then go dark, then light again.
Unlike last night, you scramble off the bed, snagging your foot in your blanket and sending your entire body to the floor.
Luke winces when he hears your collision, and he can no longer see you. He almost walks closer to you, wanting to make sure you were okay, but you pop up, making him stumble back and clutch the desk.
“No, no, no, no,” you keep mumbling while clutching the blanket closer around you. You start pacing, keeping as far from the lamp as you can. “You’re not supposed to be real, you really weren’t. You were supposed to be a dream, Jerry, you weren’t supposed to exist!”
Your yelling ceases the same time your pacing does and you stare straight at the lamp. Luke doesn’t know what he was supposed to do now. He came here today on a whim, in fact he didn’t even know what he was doing. He looked at the clock, saw Julie was going to be home soon, thought of you and next thing he knew, he was watching you toss your backpack on the ground.
He didn’t know what to do, so he flickered the light on again.
You whine and fall on the floor in a lump of limbs and blankets. “You’re real.” You whisper. “You’re really, really real.” Luke turns the light on and off fast and you put your hand up. “Alright, cool it Casper. You’re going to burn out the light.”
Surprisingly, Jerry listens.
He sits in your spinning chair again, having too much fun in the seat but you don’t seem to care as you stare off into space, processing the last 24 hours.
“Okay.” You finally say as Luke slows down the spinning to pay attention, but he doesn’t stop, that way you’ll know where he is. “I’m talking to a ghost. No, I’m talking at a ghost, the ghost isn’t talking to me, it can’t,” you pause, glancing up at Jerry and tilting your head, “can you?”
Luke knows the truth: he can, but he doesn’t know if he should. Before he could find a way to silently tell you ‘no’, you yank one of your journals out of your backpack alongside a pencil and push them towards Jerry. “I don’t know if you can write, but if you can, um, try that?”
He hesitates for a moment before picking the journal and the pencil off the ground and your eyes go wide at the sight of floating objects. Slowly, you stand and shuffle over to the desk keeping a good distance from the still moving chair.
Luke flips it open, trying to figure out what to say before settling on a simple “hello”.
Your eyes scan over the word more than a few times, at first trying to understand the awful chicken scratch scribbled on your page but after that, it was purely in disbelief that you were talking with a ghost.
“Hi.” You whisper, tightening the blanket and hiding your giddy smile. “This is so cool.” Luke was in agreement. “Okay, um, what’s your name?”
Now that you learned Luke can write, it seemed only fair you’d ask him his real name, only the problem was that Luke wasn’t sure he should say it. What if this whole thing blows up in both of your faces. He wasn’t sure how, but with his luck it was inevitable.
You can call me Jerry :)
You snort, covering your hand with your mouth. “Oh, come on, you don’t have to live with me calling you that. What’s your name?”
I like Jerry
Maybe it was because his handwriting was impossible to read, but it took you a few seconds to understand Luke’s writing and in those few seconds, Luke was given the chance to finally look at you.
He liked looking at you. Your lip was pulled taunt in your teeth, eyes fluttering back and forth over the words Luke had previously written, and your smile, full of disbelief and wonder, was bright on your face. Yeah, he really liked looking at you.
“How old are you?” You break his thoughts. Luke shakes his head, quickly scribbling down the number 17 before pausing. He had a birthday since he’s been a ghost, so he scribbles out the 17 and quickly jots down 18. Then again, he’s had several birthday’s since he’s died, and he wasn’t really sure he could age anymore. He scribbled out 18 and rewrote 17, underlining it a few times to say it was his final answer.
You chuckle at the odds of this ghost being the same-ish age as you. “Okay, and to quote Twilight, how long have you been 17?”
“Twilight?” Luke asks himself. He assumes it was just another thing he would have to ask Julie about later and hope she doesn’t ask where he learned about it. He shakes his head and scribbles down 26 years.
“26 years?” You gasp softly. Never could you imagine being a teenager for 26 years. Hell, you’ve already experienced enough teenage years to last you a lifetime. “Wait, that would make you like,” you pause, trying to do math in your head, “43 years old?”
I died and came back 25 years later. Been a ghost for almost a year :(
You look at where you assume Jerry’s head is, your smile long gone. You have no idea what it must be like for him, over half your life gone just like that. “I’m sorry.” It was all you could manage to get out.
Your whispers make Luke’s stomach fall. He didn’t mean to make you upset or feel bad or him. He picks up the pencil, tapping it on your desk to get your attention and when you do look, he quickly scribbles something down on your paper.
Don’t be sad, I wasn’t alone :)
“You have friends? Ghost friends?” The comment makes you straighten yourself. “Are they here now?”
Luke chuckles.
No, no they’re not. They’re my best friends, we died together.
You place your hand on your heart. “Oh, that’s so sad.” At least they didn’t have to mourn each other. Losing your best friend or friends like that sounds horrible. “How did you die?” You ask without thinking. The chair stops moving for the first time in 5 minutes, and you realize you might’ve overstepped. “You don’t have to answer that, that’s personal, I’m sorry.” You ramble, taking a few steps away from the desk.
Luke only stopped spinning because he wasn’t expecting the question, not because it was too personal or anything. Your back was to him before he could even stop you and he quickly writes on the paper.
Hotdogs.
You weren’t looking at him, and even when he’s tapping on the desk with his pencil, you couldn’t hear it over your apologetic ramblings. Luke had no other choice.
He softly chucks the pencil at the back of your head.
“Ow!” you clutch the back of your head, gently rubbing it while turning to the invisible ghost behind you. “I get it, it’s a personal question, but there is no reason to throw things!” You shed the blanket around your shoulders, pick the pencil back up, and slam it into the desk when you’re next to Jerry.
You were about to speak again before the pencil was swiftly picked up and tapped against new words on the paper. “Hotdogs?” You read out slowly, wondering if you just read it wrong. “Hotdogs… killed you?”
Luke sighs. Food poisoning.
Your mouth makes an ‘o’ shape when you understand and fall into a seat on your bed. You chuckle to yourself. “I’ve never really liked hotdogs. There was just always something about them. I guess now I can say it’s because it killed my new friend.” Luke and you laugh at the same time, finding this situation quite comical. Your laughs slowly stop first, your eyes fall to the ground, and you take a deep breath. “We are friends, right Jerry?”
Luke didn’t need to think before he scribbled down a very simple yes.
.
.
.
.
Here’s the fun part! I don’t remember/can’t find who asked to be tagged in my taglists, so we’re starting over! And by that I mean, I don’t know what I’m doing. Let me know if you want to be tagged (send an ask to either account, but you’ll only notified if you send it to this one) and if your tag is striked then let me if you changed it or something!
Jatp: @bekkimahonxx95 // @sexdekudungeon
TYJ: @quillsandtypos
#Luke Patterson x Reader#Luke Patterson Imagine#Luke Patterson fanfiction#Luke Patterson#Luke Patterson series#jatp x reader#jatp imagine#jatp#Julie and the phantoms#Julie and the Phantoms imagine#Julie and the Phantoms x reader#Thank you Jerry
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commercial break ; TEN
this is part of my netflix & chill series
takes place directly after vickey & hickeys !
SUMMARY See, there’s no one in this world who ignores his house rules more than you. Even worse, there’s no one on this planet who can make Jungkook ignore his own rules like you do.
WARNING smut, kissing, unprotected sex, missionary, a love for cum/precum, mentions of hickeys, uhhh idk what else lol
MISC valentines day, jk cute housewife tbh, jk being in love again u know the usual, jk clean freak
RATING m (18+)
WC 1.4k
NOTES its not proofread bc im lazy but i love them... doesn't that amount to something.... YES! we move lads
Jungkook has been living by himself for about four years now, give or take, and in that time he has come to understand the dire need for order when maintaining a home. He never understood why his mom was such a stickler for rules until he began living on his own. Those first few months had been awful, just the mere memory makes him shiver. His kitchen counters had been littered with an array of stains. His laundry basket seemed to fill up faster than usual. He never envisioned his adult life would start off with him polishing each and every inch of his hardwood floors. But because of that experience, Jungkook has finally followed in his mother’s footsteps and composed his own list of rules, eponymously titled Jeon Jungkook’s 5 Rules for a Happy Home.
He liked order and peace, liked when his coats were lined up from lightest to heaviest, when his glass plates were all stacked according to size and collection. He’s generally a neat person, prides himself in maintaining a clean personal environment. But of course, because the universe just loves him so, they repay him for all his efforts by giving him an absolute wildcard of a girlfriend.
See, there’s no one in this world who ignores his house rules more than you. Even worse, there’s no one on this planet who can make Jungkook ignore his own rules like you do.
The list goes like this:
1. Shoes must always come off at the door; this keeps them clean and allows the hardwood floors to retain their glossy sheen for as long as possible.
The plan is to spend Valentine’s Day at his house, watch some Netflix, maybe chill. You had been giggly the whole drive back from the store, brandishing your repaired phone screen like it was something incredible. And because Jungkook had so graciously paid for it, he is reimbursed with a flurry of kisses that have the two of you stumbling into his house. “Baby,” he pants, hand at your waist. He hears rather than sees the loud thump of your sneakers against his hardwood floor. But Jungkook has long since mastered the careful art of distracting you, and it only takes one twirl and careful push until you’re pressed against the door, his hardwood flooring saved from your outside shoes.
Of course, you misread the action. “Are you gonna be mean to me again?” you purr, throwing your hands over his shoulders. Your breathing is a little shallow now, lips kissing against his jawline as he helps you out of your shoes. You surge forward once more, press those satin lips against his. But this time, it’s your sock-clad feet that step onto his flooring, a soft whimper falling through your lips.
2. Return everything to where it belongs; coats should go in the closet, keys on the key rack, etc, etc.
“Take it off,” you husk out, pushing his jacket off his shoulders, and then rather mindlessly tossing it against the base of the stairs, where it was certain to be a safety hazard. Jungkook doesn’t even have time to protest, because then your coat follows. And then your top. And then your bra.
He’s a weak man.
He kisses down your throat, makes sure to glide his tongue over the bruises from last night. Not because he wants to see them heal, but because they ignite this sort of possessiveness in him that has him pushing you against the wall once more, guiding your leg over his hip. “So pretty for me,” he mumbles, letting you manhandle him out of his own shirt. And when your pebbled nipples press against his chest, the blood rushes down to his nether regions. You whimper, an airy little sound that sends him to the brink of insanity.
3. Always hold the stair railing; the steps can be slippery sometimes, so it is best to be safe.
Just as predicted, his discarded coat ends up being the safety hazard it was destined to be. One blind step backwards sends him tumbling onto his behind, the edge of another step digging painfully into his back. “Fuck,” he groans, but not at his blossoming bruise. You shimmy out of your bottoms, present him with this stringy little thong he doesn’t think he’s seen before. “C’mere, baby.”
You’re his good girl, always, so you climb onto his lap with ease, slot yourself over him where you belong. “Right here?” you ask in the soft voice, look at him with this sinful gaze that sends shivers over every inch of his body.
“Right there,” he confirms, wrapping an arm around you, uses it to pull you flush to his chest. The other slides over the curve of your ass, along the length of your thigh. His gentle touch makes you arch against him, a soft sigh escaping through your lips. “Gonna be good for me?” Jungkook murmurs, pressing a kiss to the tops of your breasts. You nod, and he slips his hand just behind your knee, uses it as he hauls you into his arms. He can’t even see his own two feet as he stumbles up the stairs with you in his arms.
4. Don’t slam doors or unnecessarily swing them open; you can damage the walls or the door itself.
It’s a joint effort; you twist the doorknob and Jungkook kicks it open. It slams against the wall, but Jungkook doesn’t really care, not when you look like that sprawled over his sheets. He can’t get his pants off fast enough, eyes trained on you as you slip out of your thong. You’re already so wet, gliding your fingers through your arousal as he stumbles out of his jeans and boxers. Always a tease.
“Open,” you murmur. It’s what he should be saying to you, hand lingering on your knee, but he does it anyway. Jungkook parts his lips and savors the sweet taste of your arousal on your fingers, sucks and licks until you’re pulling away with a whine, spreading your legs for him to slot himself in between. He has half the thought to reach for the lube in his nightstand, the warming one that you love so much. But Jungkook is desperate and impatient: he spits in his hand and calls it a day, grips his cock in one hand and gives it a harsh tug. Unexpectedly, it’s an action that impresses his audience. “Me too,” you beg, tugging at his forearm.
And Jungkook complies. He revs up his throat and leans over you, spits in your mouth like you wanted him to. But he’s off today, not completely sane, and half of it splatters against the corner of your mouth, over your cheek. You flinch, eyes squeezing shut. A moan slips past your lips. And then Jungkook watches in awe as your tongue peeks out, licks at the corner of your lips like you’re trying to save it from going to waste. “Oh, baby,” he groans, and it’s with that final thought that he guides himself in.
You’re so warm, tighter than usual. He hopes it doesn’t hurt. By the sound of your cries, it doesn’t seem to. Still, despite his concern, Jungkook can’t bring himself to hold back and begins thrusting after only a couple seconds. You claw at his shoulders, probably leave bright red marks all over him. You’re exceptionally needy today, cross your ankles at the base of his neck and make it impossible for him to get too far.
Jungkook isn’t any better. He can’t let go of you even if he tried. If he’s not holding your waist, then it’s your breasts. If not there, then it’s your throat. There’s something so sexy about you today, so needy for him. He just fucked you last night, made you cum until you cried, and yet you always want more. More and more, just like him.
Neither of you last that long. Normally, he’d be embarrassed about that. But today, one press of his thumb against your clit has you spasming around him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your cum coats his cock. So he’s not embarrassed, mostly proud. It’s a new record.
5. Always say I love you.
“I love you,” he gasps, holding your leg against his chest as he follows in your stead, vision fuzzy as his orgasm overcomes him. A hand touches his abdomen, gentle and encouraging. “I love you, I love you— I wanna marry you,” he shudders, before the pleasure eventually subsides and he’s slumping over your equally tired, equally sweaty form.
That he’s embarrassed about, hiding his face in your neck as you card your fingers through his hair. “Me too, sweet boy,” you hum, pressing your lips against his forehead.
Jungkook isn’t sure which of those two confessions you’re addressing.
(He hopes it’s both.)
Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
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illusion
— does one dare wake up from the illusion of love?
meal order: 🥞🍷 + 20, 58 (assassin! reader, oblivious! noritoshi) + 13 (thigh riding) + love at first sight + “wait, are you flirting with me?” + “have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.”
warnings: attempted murder, sexual content, character death, angst, dark themes of violence, unedited fic
note: thank you for the request! it was really challenging to write this but i’m all up for trying new things!
word count: 4k+
“Don’t think I don’t know you’re slacking.”
You glared at the dark haired man before you who was greedily sucking on a cigarette, the cloudy puffs of smoke breathed into your face. “Shut up, Toji,” you pressed your lips before waving your hand to get rid of the smoke. He was so rude, but because he was stronger and a far more skilled than you were, you wouldn’t dare fight back or complain. He knew this too; a smug smirk painting his dark, handsome features. “I’m just struggling, is all.”
“You, struggling?” his head tipped back in laughter, “Weren’t you so arrogant that you’d do anything for money?”
“And I still will. There’s just a sudden change of circumstances.”
“Such as?” he raised a brow challengingly, huge arms crossed over his equally muscular chest. Leaning over your window like that with the lights dimmed low, Toji looked absolutely threatening. You had no qualms that he’d rip your head off if given the order and enough money to do so, so you had to be careful with your words lest you wanted to die – or worse; he becomes a victim of this merciless man.
You narrowed your eyes, fists bunching up to your ripped black jeans. “A change of mind.”
“It seems like you had a change of heart too,” he noted, and you cursed inwardly. Fuck, of course he’d notice. Before you could come on the defense, Toji pushed himself away from the window with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “But whatever. Good luck, kid. I’ll just hope that you get to kill your target before the bosses kill you first.”
“I’m not going to die. It’s not like I changed or anything.”
“Yeah, not like you’re giggling just down the hall staring at your target’s picture,” he rolled his eyes, snorting to himself. “Because that’s totally normal for us assassins, right?”
“Oh, shut up, Toji. Don’t you have better things to do than annoy me?”
“I’m never missing the opportunity to mess with ya, kid,” you held back a groan when he messed up your hair, your precious untouchable hair. “Oh, and the boss called. He said if we still don’t have the head by tonight, I’m being sent in,” your heart dropped at his words, silence coating the room. Nothing but your frantic heartbeat pulsed at the tip of your tongue as your hands grew sweaty and slippery, but Toji’s next words had you looking up at him with wide eyes. “Go and get your precious lover before I come around, kid. I’m not going to be nice just for you.”
Was it a warning? A threat? A heads-up? Fuck, nothing mattered anymore – you had to finish your mission before it was too late.
The sound of Toji slamming the door behind you finally snapped you from your dazed state. Greeting you was the sight of your dark, lifeless room – empty and gray like how you were. Before you met him. But things were different now; in your mission of bringing death and shedding blood, you came across the person who gave you life and meaning to this…this bland and pathetic excuse of a life.
If you didn’t move sooner, it would be too late.
Teeth gritted, you were quick on your feet as you swiped up your handy blade, bandages wrapping around your fists for protection before you followed Toji out, only this time, the man was already gone.
You needed to move. Now.
Noritoshi stepped inside his room with a soft sigh, eyes closed and pretty, masculine hands loosening his inner shirt. Perhaps it was because his window was still kept shut and not a sound could be heard from his room that he let his guard down, and nothing but a slight hiss fell from his lips when you lunged at him, blade pressed against his neck.
He was unable to move with one of your arms keeping his arms pinned to his own body, the other holding the blade firmly to his delicate skin. A slight trickle of blood dripped down his porcelain skin when you edged it a little harder, the shaky inhale from Noritoshi causing your mind to fall into ruin. But not now – you wouldn’t give in right now. You had a mission to finish; one you had to complete successfully like you always did.
“What are you doing?” He asked calmly, voice soothing and still so gentle even as you breathed hard on his ear. There was no trace of anger or even malice – just the usual doting kindness Noritoshi always gave just for you. You hated it; hated every single about him. “How did you get in here?”
“I need to kill you.”
“You’re still going through with that?” his fingers caressed your thigh, eliciting a soft gasp from you when Noritoshi only leaned closer to your touch, tilting his head so he could peer into your blazing eyes. “I thought we were past this already.”
You laughed at his words before sneering, “This doesn’t change anything. I will kill you somehow, Noritoshi Kamo. And when I’ve got your head in the palm of my hands, I’ll be filthy rich.”
“Then why don’t you get it over with?” he stepped closer to the blade itself, almost pushing you to the edge with his movements. “Come here and see if you’re strong enough.”
You growled threateningly when more blood trailed down and stained his shirt. Instantly, you shoved your blade away from him until it switched to one of his tied side bangs, the hair falling onto the ground with a thump. “Testing me, huh? Are you doubting my skills, Kamo?”
“Not the least bit, no,” he shook his head, refusing to move from your suffocating hold. If anything, he made himself comfortable in your arms, a lopsided smile on his annoyingly handsome features.
You’ve heard rumors that your target was popular among his people and even had countless marriage proposals already; one you didn’t believe until you met the man himself, and as if reminding you of the difficulty of the situation, you just had to be one of those women who nearly fell at his feet. But could anyone blame you? Which sane person would be able to uphold their mission when Noritoshi Kamo leaned close like that, the tip of his nose brushing yours and the warmth of his breath kissing your lips?
“I’ve heard of you – you’ve got quite the reputation,” his dark eyes trailed over your lips that were fallen open, your breathing still hard and ragged. Noritoshi hummed to himself, his tongue darting out to moisten his pink flesh. “Which is why I can’t seem to comprehend why I’m still alive. Could it be there’s something else that you want more than money?”
“Perhaps I do,” you smirked, trying to ignore the way you felt like you were the one being held captive this time. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Choose the intelligent option, of course. I’ll negotiate with you.”
“And if what I want is unattainable?”
His response came as a reflex: “Nothing is unattainable with money.”
“Always the confident one, huh, Kamo?” you scoffed with a ‘tsk’ of your tongue, “One day, I’m going to break this noble leader act of yours. Soon, you’ll fall into this same trap of hell as I have, and maybe then we’ll both be a little crazy,” at your suggestion, Noritoshi only raised a brow, tilting his head to the side as he released a soft sight. You couldn’t read his face and it irked you to no end, a grin masking your irritation as you twirled the blade around your fingers. “What’s wrong, Kamo? Cat got your tongue?”
“Hmm. You really are beautiful, you know that?”
“Huh?” you stepped back as you fell aghast, your jaw dropping while Noritoshi only smiled. Fuck that smile – he had no business being this gorgeous, and you only sneered louder when his skin began to heal. “You out of your mind, Kamo? Are you forgetting who I am?”
“The pretty assassin who’s been out to get me for months now but still hasn’t killed me for whatever odd reason?” Your face burned at the way he nonchalantly said it, but Noritoshi didn’t give you time to recover as he stepped forwards, closer, his hands brushing up against the pads of your cheek. “No, I haven’t forgotten who you are. I could never forget you – not when you’ve been chasing me and we’ve been playing this game of chase for who knows how long.”
“Careful, Kamo. What would your precious elders say if they find out you’re fraternizing with the enemy?” you chuckled at the image of Noritoshi having his ear talked down by those annoying, traditional elders, but the smile fell off your face when Noritoshi continued to stare at you. “Wait, did you just call me pretty? Like, as in, pretty pretty?”
“Yes, and now you’re blushing like crazy,” he booped your nose, firing up the bubbling anger inside you. How dare he mock you like this! Your feet planted on the ground as you prepared to lunge at him when Noritoshi stilled, his strong arms wrapping around your wrist tight enough that even you froze at how strong he was. Had he been holding back on you this whole time? Could he have really easily fought back against you but chose not to for whatever messed up reason?
Before you could get your answer, Noritoshi’s eyes slid over to yours, this time wide with worry. The smile left his face. “You should leave. They’re coming.”
You blinked back up at him helplessly, your body almost turning limp. Seeing that you weren’t moving fast enough, Noritoshi frowned, wrapping your fingers tighter around your blade before pointing to his window where you’d broken in a while ago. “You need to go. Now.”
“C-Can I see you again tonight?” you found yourself asking, legs already perched on the windowsill. You knew it was pathetic, to have trembling pouty lips when you were seconds away from making a deadly fall and yet you were more worried about him. The thought of Toji coming the moment he heard you still hadn’t killed Noritoshi made your hands and legs shake, heart clenching painfully with fear. Noritoshi may be strong, but he was nothing against Toji. “I want to see you again,” and again and again and again – for as long as you were allowed.
Though you’d never tell him that.
Not that you needed to, though, because Noritoshi could read you better than yourself, and he only smiled, never making fun of how vulnerable and horrible you were at keeping your feelings a secret. You were too easy to read sometimes, or maybe he just had a skill of knowing everything that ran in your mind.
“Would it stop you if I said no?”
“Of course not,” you frowned, then looked out the setting sun that held an ominous vibe to it now. Eyes closed and a sad heart begging to be closer to him, you buried it all deep within, turning to Noritoshi with an aching smile. “Live your life to the fullest, Kamo. This might just be your last day.”
Noritoshi chuckled softly to himself. “I’ll keep the windows open, then.”
It was way past midnight, and neither you nor Toji came around. He’d already heard that someone else was sent for him due to his precious little lover falling in love with him at first sight that caused her to fail her mission, and Noritoshi paced around his room, arms folded on his chest as he thought of the different ways they could’ve executed you already.
He hadn’t known you for a long enough time to know everything about you. It didn’t help that you weren’t the most open either, refusing to tell him more about your life and the people you worked for whenever he asked.
Noritoshi understood your discomfort when it came to sensitive topics like that.
It wasn’t easy, after all, to talk about the countless people whose lives you’d taken for money prior to meeting him. Noritoshi was well-aware he was another name on your hit list that could be crossed out had it been under different circumstances; circumstances such as him easily defeating you on the first day you met him before he had you pinned to the ground, both your bodies panting heavily.
One thing led to another, and Noritoshi grew an obsession with you.
It was fucked up, to say the least – that he actually looked forward to having you jump on him out of nowhere, bringing different weapons and techniques for various ways to kill him this time.
There was one time you both went out on a date, glasses covering your eyes and hats pulled over so no one would recognize any of you walking into the dark movie theatre. None of you could pay attention to the movie when you placed yourself in his lap, and suddenly he felt so thankful he bought the whole theatre for himself because he sure as hell couldn’t keep his voice down while you rode his dick like he was just a mere plaything.
Your hands then travelled around his neck as you pulled him in for a searing kiss. Second by second, his vision grew faint with his head dizzy, the air being knocked out of him as you crushed his windpipe with increasing pressure.
He wasn’t surprised that you would try to kill him while cumming around his cock – you were the most painful pleasure that could kill him, literally – and he had to push you off so hard your head hit the ground until you were knocked out.
Noritoshi had lost count of the times you tried to kill him, purely because you always tried to seduce him one way or another.
He believed it was one of your strategies into luring your prey right into your trap, which he fell for every single time. The rational part of himself (which wasn’t that much when it came to you to begin with) told him to increase his security, to always be prepared and have some sort of weapon or blood readied out to defend himself, but him being him, he always kept the window unlocked.
Noritoshi was reminded of his mistakes when his back was harshly kicked, his arm painfully bent and pressed to his lower back while your knee planted itself onto his spine, your sweet laughter bouncing from his ears. “Wasn’t expecting me, Kamo?” you teased, twisting his arm hard enough that he winced at the pain. “I thought you’d be ready.”
“I’m never ready for you, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Even in his slightly limped state, Noritoshi managed a smile. “Why? Does it make you want to kill me less?”
“Oh, you’re vermin, Kamo. My blood boils every time I see you!”
Perhaps you weren’t any better than him. You let your guard down too easily when it came to your emotions flaring up, and before you knew it, Noritoshi had pushed himself off the ground and flipped you under him, knee planted between your legs and your arms pinned to your side.
Your blade fell with a pathetic clang on the floor.
You struggled against his hold despite the comfort of having him above you like this, his gorgeous muscles displayed through his poor excuse of a shirt. Noritoshi only slammed your arms harder on the ground to keep you immobile, his words gentle and too sweet in comparison to his roughness.
He leaned closer, eyes filled with adoration and lust staring down at you. You thought he would kiss you when his lips suddenly turned the other way, his tongue prodding on the lobe of your ear that had you gasping underneath him.
The sound of your breathy whines had his blood shooting straight up onto his cock, pressing his now hardening erection against your heated core that he’d had the privilege of fucking and eating countless of times before – though he’d never get tired of it; he would never get tired of you.
“Then why do you keep coming back?”
“What else, idiot?”
Your irritated response had him pulling him back, his brows furrowed as he loosened his hold on you. Just like that, Noritoshi let go of you, his back hitting his bed frame as he frowned, pointing to himself in disbelief. “Wait, are you flirting me?”
That earned him a roll of your eyes in response. You pushed yourself up from the floor and glared at him, massaging the bruises that would form into your skin soon. “Have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.”
“I thought getting me to bed was one of your ways to kill me,” he scratched his head, and he really shouldn’t be looking that cute. “I don’t know whether to be afraid or flattered—”
Noritoshi wouldn’t stop rambling on and on about how this whole time, he had no idea you liked him back and he’d endlessly chastised himself for falling for an assassin. Quite frankly, you had too much of his endless babbling that you pushed him until he fell on the bed, not wasting any time before you planted yourself on his lap and sitting on it like a throne.
“Shut up and kiss me, Kamo.”
When you grinded on his erection, Noritoshi lost it. He no longer had control of himself before he kissed you madly, his hands bunching your shirt up and helping you fling it to the side. Pupils blown wide as if he’d never seen you bare before, Noritoshi pushed the cups of your bra above your breasts, his lips latching onto a perky nipple while his other hand tweaked it between his fingers.
Your head fell back in pleasure as you let him ravage you, soft little gasps leaving your lips while you rode his thigh.
Noritoshi groaned into your breasts at the sight of you eagerly fucking yourself on his thigh, moaning louder when he clenched and you bounced you above his muscle.
“If I’d known you’d look this beautiful riding me like this,” his mouth left your lips before he settled onto your neck instead, nipping and tugging at the skin until he was sure he’d have you marked black and blue. “I would’ve opened my windows long ago,” he cupped your breasts, his cock twitching in his pants as you rubbed your clit all over his pants, mewling when one of his fingers rubbed at your clothed folds. “Do you think it’s fate?”
You laughed through the drunken state of pleasure, “You’re asking me if it’s fate that I’m sent to kill you but I’m fucking you here instead?”
“That’s one way to word it.”
“I don’t know, I don’t care,” your head fell on his shoulders as you clenched around nothing. Noritoshi took it upon himself to tug your panties to the side, his cock only hardening further because you wore a skirt for him tonight, almost as if you were expecting to be fucked senseless by his dick.
Well, if that was your wish, then who was he to deny you?
The feeling of you sliding down his length had you both moaning and groaning, the stretch of him feeling you up to the brim too magnificent to describe. Noritoshi pulled you closer until your tits were right at his face, free for him to kiss and worship. You whimpered when Noritoshi’s large hands cupped your ass to bring you upwards, your moan shattered and shaky as he let gravity drop you down his thick length, the pattern of you bouncing onto him sending heat all over your body.
“One thing’s for sure,” you managed through gritted teeth, “It’s definitely an unfortunate curse that I can’t kill you because I’m so in love with you.”
Noritoshi stopped with his movements, letting you rest at the base of his cock instead while you caught your breaths. Your eyes were closed, fingers clenching tight at the material of his shirt. Noritoshi didn’t need for you to tell him more to understand that you were risking a lot more than he was for falling with one another, because you’ve failed your mission, and a failed mission always guaranteed a most painful death.
“Hey,” Noritoshi tapped your cheek, “Hey, look at me,” he grabbed your chin to force you to look at him, and his gaze softened when tears shone into those pretty eyes of yours. You’ve never let him see you cry before, but you couldn’t help it, teeth sinking into your lip to stop the tears from flowing while Noritoshi’s strong arms wrapped around you comfortingly. “I’ll protect you, okay?”
“You say that as if I can’t look after myself.”
“I know you can. You did just nearly break my arm, so I’m not worried,” you both laughed, and he smiled wider upon seeing that you’ve livened up a little bit. That was all he wanted to see – to see you smile. “But I mean it. I’ll protect you – take care of you. You can abandon your old life and just live with me.”
“But I’m a regular, boring human. You’re about to be head of the Kamo Clan – what could I possibly offer?”
“Everything and nothing, but know that I’m not asking or expecting anything from you,” his thumbs were gentle as he cupped your cheek, “Just stay here. With me. We’ll work it out.”
You fell silent, unable to process the gravity of his words. The more you thought about it, the more it enticed you. No more killing, no more crying yourself to sleep or trying to hold back a scream as you washed the blood off your body, no more images of the people you’ve killed haunting you everywhere you went. Instead, you could live a happy life with Noritoshi. He was powerful and influential – he could easily give you a life.
But it wouldn’t be a life if you failed your mission.
You knew that much – no one escaped from the higher-ups and no one got out unless they were killed, either during their mission or by defecting. Not even Noritoshi could protect you from that, but he gazed up at you so hopefully, so lovingly that you wanted to bask in this glow and illusion of happiness a little longer.
So you smiled, rubbing your nose against his that had you both giggling like lovesick teens. “You’re so cheesy it’s disgusting, Kamo. I really regret not killing you now.”
“You wound me,” he placed a hand over his chest before pinching his cheeks, “But I suppose it’s only fair – you quite kill me with your cuteness too.”
“Ugh, shut up.”
For now, while you could still have him the way you wanted him, while he was still safe, you allowed yourself to drown in pleasure. Limbs tangled with one another and names breathily spoken while he marked you as his own, his seed painting your womb that you eventually lost count of.
This was love – the illusion of it, at least.
You stared at Noritoshi as he slept soundly beside you, his hair splattered everywhere. He was too exhausted to notice you slowly slipping off the bed, wiping the mixture of both your cum away with a towel before tugging your clothes back on. Glancing one last time at his still sleeping form, you lifted up a tile just under his study, pulling out the heavy and deadly weapons you’d planted long ago just in case.
Your heart dropped in your chest when the door suddenly opened. No creaking sound indicated that it did, but the slight gush of wind entering the room made the hairs on your arm prickle up.
On instinct, you wrapped a hand around your special gun and aimed it at the person smirking down at you. His eyes travelled from Noritoshi safely tucked under the blankets to your defensive pose just before him, the safety of the gun flipped open. This time, your hands no longer shook, and your eyes were hard and determined as you matched the dark look on his face.
“Step away, kid. You don’t want things to get messy.”
“I won’t let you hurt him, Toji,” Toji was surprised when you suddenly dropped your gun on the bed, palms raised beside your head in surrender. “I, Y/N, member of the Dark Shadows organization therefore surrender my title and submits to the punishment I must receive. As a last wish from a lifelong loyal member of your organization, I humbly ask that you respect my wish to keep Noritoshi Kamo safe from your missions. Forever.”
You could never live a happy life with Noritoshi, but there was still a way you could keep him safe; one that came with the price of your death.
The Dark Shadows was a shady organization with nameless and faceless leaders, the members like you and Toji blindly following orders from a “messenger.” You were born into this organization with a random name given to you as an assassin title. You always hated it, but you also didn’t know what life without being an assassin was like, so you followed them until the end. It just never occurred to you that you would use your last wish this way, for everyone always had a dying wish that the organization had to follow.
Toji’s eyes darkened; clearly, he believed you were doing a mistake. But the more you thought of Noritoshi’s smile, his laughter, his future – it was all worth it.
“I, Fushiguro Toji, a witness of your death, hereby respect your last wish.”
The sound of desperate crying – the first time you’ve cried ever since you were born – stirred Noritoshi awake from his slumber, but before he could catch your falling body, a gunshot had already fired in the air.
#noritoshi kamo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#noritoshi kamo smut#noritoshi kamo#noritoshi kamo x you#noritoshi kamo x reader romance#noritoshi kamo x reader angst#noritoshi kamo x reader imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen romance#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk noritoshi kamo#uhh this was actually really difficult to write#well not REALLY i wrote it fine but like i dont think i could ever write for noritoshi kamo again fufu#i love him and all but WOW its so hard to write for him lmao#i feel like i cant really get his character down but alright at least we tried things#suki: 500 milestone event#noritoshi kamo romance#noritoshi kamo fluff#noritoshi kamo imagines
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