#flatmate contract | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starrierknight · 5 months

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞

For you to like him, he doesn't need to be perfect—but he's pretty damn close to it.

MASTERLIST | AO3

wc— 3k

pairing— gn!reader x gojo satoru

cws/tags— acquaintances/flatmates to lovers, fluff, suggestive themes, satoru being obnoxious, ft. satoru’s happy trail, is it still counted as “body worship” if this is sfw

The silent hold of the wee hours left you with far too much to think about, if you do say so yourself. In this nocturnal solitude, you found yourself compelled to confront not only your thoughts, but the echoes of loneliness that reverberated through your cavernous chest, leaving your heart to tremble in the corner. The unrelenting grip of weariness rendered you captive in the cocoon of your bedsheets, their tendrils entwined with the threads of your restless musings.

Despite being a steadfast denizen of these late-night hours, tonight was different—an occasion when the relentless routine of surrendering to the purgatory of your bedroom had worn away at your resolve. The solace offered by the quietude was undeniable, and the shroud of darkness, a gentle balm for tired eyes—though not for weary heartstrings.

As you rose, the floor beneath your feet felt cool, sending a shiver through your body, and the door swung open soundlessly. The corridor awaited, a narrow passageway obscured by conspiring shadows so that you had to place a hand on the wall, trailing your fingertips over the plaster to find your way. The darkness here was thicker, pressing against the walls, and the only companion was the soft exhale of your breath.

A faint light spilt from the slightly ajar door, a beacon that prompted you to squint as you approached. It became evident that Satoru must have left the lights on, a small yet comforting revelation. Upon opening the door, the kitchen burst into luminosity, momentarily dazzling you as your eyes adjusted.

Satoru had his back turned to you, doing the washing up, shirtless. His back was broad, as if carved out of marble, and toned to perfection. Though his face was obscured, he carried himself with a distinct air of confidence that only those of a certain beautiful visage have—all movements were deliberate, executed as gracefully as could be. He didn’t respond to your presence, nor did he turn around, continuing to wash the dishes as the gentle slosh of water and clatter of plates filled the room.

Your gaze swept across the kitchen, a subtle amusement dancing in your eyes as you took in the scattered evidence of Satoru's attempts to corral the week's accumulation of clutter. The peculiar surge of productivity in the late hours hinted at a shared restlessness, a tacit acknowledgement that sleep eluded him just as it did you.

Returning your attention to Satoru, a quiet fascination seized you as you observed the rhythmic dance of his shoulders. They gently sloped, guiding your eyes down to the graceful curvature that traced the arc of his spine. The muscles, flexing and contracting in harmony with his movements, held a hypnotic allure that further captivated your already-addled mind.

The subtle rasp of your cleared throat echoed in the kitchen, a deliberate attempt to compose yourself and redirect your attention. The sound elicited a flinch from Satoru, his head tilting in acknowledgement without turning around. Your gaze wandered, initially fixating on his hands immersed in soapy washing-up water, then traversing the sinuous lines of his arms, the broad expanse of his shoulders, and back again to the rhythmic play of muscles along his spine. A fleeting imagination tempted you, picturing the sensation of placing your palm between his shoulder blades, curious about the palpable strength concealed beneath his skin.

Shaking your head to dispel the reverie, you took tentative steps forward, crossing the quiet expanse of the kitchen. Leaning against the cool granite countertop, your elbows found a resting place, and you propped your chin up on your fist. Your eyes remained fixed on Satoru, lingering on the meticulous yet effortless movements of his hands. A small, tentative smile graced your lips as you observed his actions, wondering if he could sense the unspoken sentiment in your expression.

Breaking the lingering silence, you mustered a simple "Hi," but it was met with a stony quietude.

You wondered if speaking up was the wrong choice, but delirium and the ache to be close to another person had brought you this far. Satoru glanced over his shoulder, his gaze meeting yours with a slow blink. A subtle raise of his brow conveyed a hint of amusement, seemingly deriving pleasure from your visible unease.

His response finally fractured the silence, a sly smirk accompanying his words, "Enjoying the view, are you?"

The low, husky timbre of his voice carried a weariness, likely a residue of a day spent teaching. It forced a certain softness to his tone, you thought.

You shrugged off his inquiry. "Sue me."

Satoru's response wasn't a hearty chuckle or a deep guffaw, but a light, breathy laugh that filled the quiet kitchen. There was a quiet amusement in the sound, and a trace of a smirk lingered on his face as he looked you over. Your heart responded with a subtle clench beneath your ribs, particularly at the sight of a faint shadow of a dimple on his cheek, carved there just to taunt. The moment, though fleeting, etched itself into the quietude of the night as he returned his attention to the dishes.

"What d'you rate it? A ten out of ten?"

Your response, offered with a playful quirk of your eyebrow, "You want me to rate you?"

Satoru's smirk morphed into a pleased expression as your gaze trailed over him. The contours of his skin, smooth and unblemished, seemed to glow like moonlight in the spill of light from the windows. Intrigued and sufficiently drawn into the distraction your company provided, he turned to face you, leaning against the kitchen cupboard. As he dried his hands on a towel, his arms folded across his broad, rippling chest, the subtle flexing of his pecs synchronised with each breath drew your attention.

"Come on, give me a score anyway. Out of ten."

After a moment's consideration, you offered a teasing response, "A nine."

Satoru's amused countenance swiftly transformed into a scowl the moment your rating escaped your lips. His eyes locked onto yours, and he spoke with feigned indignation, "Only nine?"

The palpable teasing in his voice was accompanied by a puffing out of his chest, a subtle rise onto his toes, and a slight shift in his weight—an adjustment that added a touch of theatricality to his stance. His gaze fixed on you with an impatient yet expectant intensity, resembling a playful, albeit puzzled, puppy.

Your chuckle, a note of satisfaction in provoking a reaction, accompanied a dismissive wave of your hand. "Ah, I don't know. You're missing a certain je ne sais quoi."

The scowl on Satoru's face evolved into a lopsided frown, confusion and amusement vying for dominance on his expressive features.

"Je ne sais quoi?" he echoed, his head tilting in curiosity, a teasing glint in his eye. The amused twinkle hinted at his attempt, albeit futile, to resist giving you attention.

"Well... You're just a little too perfect, aren't you? Like a sculpture."

Satoru's lips curled into a cocky grin at your explanation. "And what's wrong with being a sculpture? People look at sculptures all day, right?" His smirk widened as he leaned in ever so slightly, a challenge lingering in the air. "Maybe you should do that, then."

Suppressing a grin, you bit the inside of your cheek, allowing your eyes to trail along the line of his left shoulder, up the side of his neck, and to his jawline. "I might," you mused.

The rhythmic rise and fall of Satoru's chest betrayed the subtle restlessness within him, his breaths a steady cadence of inhales and exhales. The heat radiating from his body made the glistening sweat on his skin all the more apparent. His lips, licked in a moment of contemplation, added an unintentional allure as his eyes momentarily darted away from yours. Every inch of him exuded an undeniable appeal, and your gaze couldn't help but be drawn repeatedly to the contours of his chiselled body, a clear testament to where your attention lingered.

As he shifted his weight onto his right foot, a cock of his hip added an extra layer of invitation. "I might let you," he declared.

"Who says it's a question of 'letting' me?"

"I do," Satoru shot back, his eyes taking on a steely glint as he jutted his chin in a clear challenge. The air crackled with tension as he asserted, "I'm not a pushover, and I don't take orders from anyone. If you think you're gonna boss me around, you're sorely mistaken."

The shift in his expression, from cocky to cold and steely, echoed through the space. Your heart quickened its pace as his gaze, those vivid blue eyes glinting like precious stones, locked onto yours. The challenge hung in the air, a silent dare.

Satoru's face transformed, breaking into a wide grin, and a warm laugh escaped him, lighting up the atmosphere once again. It was evident he had been playfully messing with you, and the realisation prompted a quiet laugh of relief from you, your cheeks flushing warm.

"You got me.”

"You know me. I wouldn't say no if you were offering."

His words, delivered in a hushed whisper, lingered in the air, barely audible above the rhythmic cadence of your breathing. Your gaze involuntarily drifted to Satoru's lips as his grin faded into a more contemplative expression. There was a subtle hint of shyness in his features, his cheeks now adorned with a magnificent shade of red as he shifted his weight to the other leg.

“Offering?” you queried.

Satoru's laugh, more relaxed this time, accompanied his response.

"I'm not completely clueless, you know." His gaze finally returned to yours. "You were eyeing me up, weren't you? I didn't mind, though," he drawled, glancing down at his own body. "Well, I don't blame you." With a wink, he added a touch of assurance.

Suppressing a snort, you reciprocated with a wink of your own, much to his bemusement. Satoru's gaze descended from your face, lingering on your body for a moment that felt like an eternity before swiftly returning to meet your eyes.

"The attraction's definitely mutual, so maybe you should just c’mere and kiss me," he suggested, his words teasing, yet there was a genuine note beneath the surface.

"Who says I want to?" you countered.

"My ego, mostly—I'm the prettiest guy you've ever seen. Why wouldn't you wanna kiss me?"

The familiar arrogant half-grin adorned his face as he tilted his head to the side, shifting his weight onto one leg and cocking his hip once again. When your reaction amounted to little more than a gawp, he theatrically fluttered his long, white eyelashes at you.

"C'mon, you know you want to..."

A stunningly triumphant expression illuminated Satoru's face as you walked around to his side of the kitchen island, leaning against it as you beckoned him closer. For a moment, he observed you, searching for any sign that your actions were merely a tease. Upon finding none, a cheeky grin spread across his features, and he took a step toward you.

Closing the distance, he stood in front of you, leaning in until your bodies were almost touching. "What are you waiting for? Kiss me already.”

Rather than yielding to the demand, you countered with a smirk, meeting his gaze through your lashes. Simultaneously, your hands rested on his bare, narrow waist, and your thumbs brushed against his skin. From such proximity, you could discern the faint marbling of bluish veins beneath his pale skin.

Tracing the pad of your thumb along one of these delicate lines, just underneath his ribcage, you elicited a sharp intake of breath from Satoru. His chest rose and fell, hands clenched into fists at his sides. You could almost hear his heartbeat quicken—although, your own heart rebelled against your ribs to try and tunnel its way out of your chest and to him.

Undeterred, Satoru met your gaze without a hint of hesitation or shyness, a defiant smirk still playing on his lips. His eyes, those endless blues, were sharp as they studied your face—though his judgement was tentative. The heat from his skin warmed your palms, and you could see goose bumps forming on his flesh as it reacted to your touch.

"Is this okay?" you murmured in a sweeter voice.

Satoru, still captivated by the proximity, was brought back to the moment by the sound of your voice. Slowly, he opened his hands, relaxing a little. "It's more than okay..." he admitted, a smitten look adorning his features.

The exchange continued as he let out a quiet laugh, shifting his weight and allowing his free hand to caress your cheek, tracing along the line of your jaw. Leaning in, he pressed his forehead against yours, his gaze soft, and his touch gentle. Wisps of Satoru’s downy, white hair tickled your temples, tempting your fingers to comb through its softness.

"You're adorable," he complimented, a genuine smile gracing his lips, before leaning his head back slightly to get another look at your face.

Your fingertips, gently brushing against the white trail of hair just below his navel, drew a soft gasp from Satoru. His abs tensed at the touch, his cheeks blushing a deeper shade as a slight shiver coursed through him. In the ensuing silence, the only audible sound was the subtle intake of breath, a shared moment suspended in the quiet kitchen.

Satoru glanced down at your fingers, his body language a blend of tension and receptivity. Swallowing thickly, his eyes flicked downward momentarily before meeting your gaze again.

"What gives?"

"I take it back. You're a ten," you admitted, a playful twist to your tone.

Satoru laughed, his breath hitching before he composed himself. His response was light-hearted and teasing, "Why the change of heart?"

His cocky grin returned as his gaze dipped down to your hands once more.

The soft brush of your fingers against the hair of his happy trail prompted a soft groan to escape Satoru's lips. His eyes shut, exhaling slowly, and his jaw flexed in response to the sensation.

"I found the one you needed," you declared smugly.

Satoru couldn't contain another soft groan at your touch. He licked his lips, swallowing, his gaze shifting between you and your hands as you continued to explore. His weight shifting onto his other foot, he adopted his best flirtatious expression. Leaning down toward you, his smile widened as he lowered himself to your eye level.

"You're lucky the feeling's mutual, then. So, about that kiss?"

His right hand cupped your cheek, and you instinctively leaned into his touch. The warmth of his palm, surprisingly soft, conveyed a sense of comfort, even as the faint scent of dish soap lingered. Time seemed to slow as your faces inched closer. Something citrussy, you noted vaguely.

“What about it?” you whispered.

"I'm sick of waiting for it..."

The kiss ignited a cascade of sensations, a marvel that transcended the mere meeting of lips. His hands, so gentle, cupped your cheeks, their journey extending down to cradle the vulnerable expanse of your neck. Fingertips, like feathers, grazed the back of your hairline, leaving a trail of tingling warmth in their wake.

Soft, syrupy lips, vessels of unspoken words, melded seamlessly with your own. As the kiss deepened, your hand remained a steadfast companion on his waist. The caress, a silent declaration, pulled him incrementally closer, drawing him into your orbit. His hands, still cradling your face, mirrored the tenderness. Satoru, in response, leaned in, his lips maintaining their pillowy softness against yours, his entire body communicating a tranquil surrender to the moment—to you, if only briefly.

Your fingers, entwined in his whispery, silver hair, brushed away the few locks that always seemed to fall just right. As you both pulled away, the affection shared in that fleeting gaze lingered, plain for all to see on Satoru's face.

"And what would you rate that?" Satoru said breathlessly.

You hummed and wrinkled your nose, making a show of thinking it over. "A nine."

“Not a ten?" his voice was low and intimate. He brought his hands down to your waist to hold you, and you could feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

"Well, I'm kind of banking on you to keep kissing me until I give you a ten," you murmured.

He huffed out a laugh as he shook his head, followed by a soft, ironic, “Of course.”

A mischievous grin adorned Satoru's face as he leaned in for another kiss, this time more intense, more hungry. Tilting his head, he skillfully avoided a direct alignment of his lips with yours, adding a delicious edge to the kiss. His tongue ventured, a slow exploration that gradually deepened, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

Your fingers dug slightly into his waist, a feeble attempt to keep your mind tethered before you lost it to him completely. Satoru's tongue pressed deep into your mouth, his grip on the back of your neck tightening slightly, intensifying the kiss. The softness of your lips pressed against his body allowed you to feel every sculpted muscle. The passion of the kiss remained gentle, not rough, yet the sensation left you craving more.

As you both eventually pulled away, a quiet panting filled the space. Your nose brushed against his jawline, a content smile playing on your lips.

"Still a nine?" he inquired, a teasing note in his voice, his voice quiet but carrying an undeniable edge of confidence.

Satoru shifted his hands to your shoulder, fingers lingering for a moment before crossing his arms over his chest. His warm breath caressed your face as he looked down at you. Pressing his forehead lightly against yours, he closed his eyes, savouring the touch.

“Still a nine.”

"Just you wait," he added, a promise whispered. "I won't stop until it's a perfect ten."

a/n: alternative title, “Gojo Satoru is so pretty he makes me stupid” haha. I wrote this to get out of my writing slump lolol. and ooooo first sfw fic on this blog!! how exciting :3 -> based on this ask!

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

278 notes · View notes

toomuchracket · 1 year

Text

i'd rather jump in your bones (dad!matty x reader)

(hi! a lovely anon sent me an ask about sleeping with dilf-to-be matty on your babymoon before having baba 1, which a couple of other people have also asked for, so here it is, a really REALLY long fic! smut, with a little bit of fluff because i am a sappy bitch lol. anyway, hope you enjoy! <3)

(also if you're unfamiliar with my dad!matty/flatmate!matty tags, this might be a little jarring in places, so i'd recommend reading some of those posts first to get a handle on the lore)

it's 8am when you're woken up by the baby kicking, her (as of last week's 20-week scan it's confirmed that, yes, she is a she) tiny little limbs bouncing off different parts of your stomach like the old dvd logo that would appear if you left the player on pause for too long. you snort quietly to yourself at that comparison, making a mental note to tell it to matty when he wakes up. actually, you're surprised he hasn't woken up yet; his arm is currently draped softly over the bump as he snores lightly behind you, so he should also be able to feel his daughter kicking.

although, in fairness, if you didn't have a developing human in your stomach operating on a different sleep schedule to yours, the things you and your husband got up to last night would have definitely kept you asleep at this time too.

but you don't mind being awake in circumstances like these: carrying your healthy (and presumably happy) baby; feeling the nearly-naked and gloriously handsome love of your life cosied up beside you; noticing the morning sun and various faint italian conversations creeping into the room via the patio door, left ajar in the scorching heat of last night. it's an early summer morning on the shores of lake garda, and there's nowhere else you'd rather be right now.

baba, though, would apparently rather you were somewhere else - almost on cue, she settles herself in such a way that your awareness of your own bladder becomes unavoidable. with a whispered "you like being a little bit mean to mummy, don't you? you're lucky i love you so much, my girl", you extract yourself from matty's hold without waking him - a feat you mastered a few weeks into sharing a bed with him post-movie nights in the flat back in the day - and pull yourself out of bed. feeling slightly exposed in your panty-clad state, you shrug on matty's black tank top from yesterday, carelessly tossed on the end of the bed, before wandering to the bathroom.

matty appears in the doorway maybe five minutes later, once you've appeased your daughter (so to speak) and brushed your teeth; he copies the latter act himself, after placing a soft kiss on the top of your head, holding his toothbrush in one hand and you in the other. you take these two minutes of matty preoccupation to ogle him, trailing your eyes down his abs and v-line to the waistband of his boxers, admiring the way his arm muscles flex and contract as he brushes his teeth, and just generally marvelling at the way your husband manages to make the most basic of tasks look so ridiculously attractive.

after matty spits out the last of the toothpaste - the sight of which, whorishly, sends a burst of heat between your legs - he turns to you and pulls you into a sweet, overwhelmingly minty kiss. "morning, my love," he smiles, after breaking the kiss and taking your hands in his. "i take it our girl woke you up?"

the obvious joy in matty's voice when he refers to your daughter makes you smile too. "only a few minutes ago, but yeah, she did - all quiet now, but she was kicking quite enthusiastically."

"really?" matty asks, crouching down so he's eye level with your cotton-covered stomach and sliding a warm hand under the fabric to rest there. "you gonna be a footballer one day, baba? that'd be cool. especially if you played for newcastle like daddy did when he was a kid. but pro. definitely pro."

you scoff. "our daughter in a career where she could be far better at her job than a man but would never get the same recognition as him? i don't want her to be that much like me, babe."

"fair point, sweetheart," matty says as he stands, kissing you on the forehead. "but you should still be proud of your work anyway, even though they gave that stupid dick the case over you. i think you're an incredible lawyer, regardless of the fact you're also a little thief when it comes to my wardrobe."

he looks pointedly at the tank top you're wearing, before smirking at you. you put your hands on your hips and stare back at matty. "it's the bump, isn't it?"

your husband's brow furrows. "what?"

"you used to love me wearing your clothes," you sigh faux-dramatically, sidling past matty back into the bedroom and standing in front of the full-length mirror. "you encouraged it, actually. and now, here i am, pregnant with your baby, and you call me a thief for stealing a top. must be the bump."

matty comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your middle and pressing kisses into your neck. "you know all too fucking well that that's not the case, darlin'."

you're having too much fun with this. you do know matty's arguably never found you sexier than he does right now, but you don't want him to tell you that - you need him to prove it. so you sigh, tilt your head and look at your reflection. "hmmm, i don't know, babe. kinda seems like the bump might be a problem for you."

"right, that's it," matty scoops you up bridal-style and carries you the short walk to the bed, setting you down gently and bringing himself to hover over you. he kisses you deeply, passionately, but languidly, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away to murmur against your mouth. "want a repeat of last night, sweetheart, so i can prove to you how much i love your body? yeah? want me to kiss all over those gorgeous tits, that perfect little bump, all down the insides of those fucking thighs of yours, before i eat you out? whatever you want, i'll do it."

interesting. you keep your eyes on matty's adorably eager, turned-on face, watching his eyes roll back ever so slightly when you rake your hand through his hair and tug slightly. "whatever i want? really?"

"if it gets through to you just how fucking hot you look carrying my baby, yeah," matty replies, kissing you again. his face softens as he pulls away, calloused fingers coming up to gently stroke your cheek. "my perfect, perfect wife, mother of my child, love of my life."

"you're so sweet, angel, and i loved how gentle you were with me last night. but," you smile, leaning into matty's hand. "you know what i really want, something that hasn't happened in a little while that i'd love right now?"

"tell me, darlin'."

you lean in to whisper in matty's ear, tugging his hoop earring lightly between your teeth before you do. "want you to fuck me like i'm still your little slut. can you do that for me, matty? please?"

the effect your words have on your husband is instantaneous (and extremely inflating to your ego) - matty's breaths become shallow and shaky, his hips begin to grind into yours, and those beautiful eyes of his flutter shut, presumably as he imagines obliging your request. when they reopen, the pupils are almost totally dilated, out of nothing more than sheer lust for you; they lock onto your own eyes as matty speaks. "that depends... d'you think you've been good enough, sweetheart?"

fuck yes. you look up at matty through your eyelashes, batting your lids a couple of times for good measure, and nod. "m'always good for you."

"even when you're stealing my clothes?" comes the reply, accompanied by a smirk. you smile back just as evilly, and quickly pull the offending tank top off and throw it to the side. "s'not stolen anymore."

for the second time in about a minute, matty's eyes darken with desire for you. "christ, you're so beautiful," he moans, before crashing his lips onto yours and his tongue into your mouth. "alright, darlin', i'll fuck you like the good little slut i know you really are. my good little slut."

"mmm, always, always for you," you smile against matty's lips, before meeting them with your own for another makeout. "thank you."

"you're welcome, angel. now," your husband's face turns slightly more serious. "how do you want to go about this? need to make sure you feel good before i can make you feel even better, yeah?"

nodding, you reach across to matty's side of the bed, grabbing one of the big silk-covered pillows - anticipating what you're about to do, matty takes it from you, quickly sliding it under your lower back and tailbone as you lift your hips. caressing them lightly, matty scans your face for any sign of discomfort. "you good?"

"perfect."

"too fucking right you are, babe," matty grins, kissing you passionately yet again. he bites your lower lip - which pulls a moan from within your chest - before releasing it slowly, dragging the soft cells between his teeth. "and now it's time for the fun bit."

matty's mouth is on your neck before you can reply, the feeling of his lips against your sweet spot turning your words to whines; they're closely followed by teeth and tongue and back to lips, as your husband - apparently not content with just decorating your body with the baby bump - adorns your neck with a hickey. as he begins to trail these scarlet marks of affection down the column of your throat, matty's hands come up to your tits, squeezing the sensitive swollen flesh and rolling and pinching your nipples between calloused fingers.

by the time matty's mouth replaces his fingers, alternating between each tit, you're soaked through your silky underwear. you tell him as much through a series of breathy moans, in the hope that he'll cease his ministrations on your tits and settle himself between your soft thighs, but it's in vain. matty simply continues to mouth his way down your body, kissing down your sternum and all over your bump (which, admittedly, you do find very sweet even in your horny state); only once he's done this does he pay any mind to the dark green fabric covering the place you want him most.

"fuck, sweetheart," matty sighs, rubbing your soft thighs and teasing his fingertips along the waistband of your underwear. "can see how fucking wet you are already. is it all for me, angel? tell me."

you nod furiously. "all for you, always all for you."

"good girl," matty smiles, placing a kiss to your inner thigh before peeling your panties down, throwing them somewhere in the sunlight-dappled room. he reattaches his lips to your thigh, leaving another hickey and you moaning his name, while his index finger glides up your slit to collect some of your wetness - suddenly, matty's leaning over you, bringing the same finger to your lips. "taste yourself for me, darlin'."

fuck. without breaking eye contact with your husband, you take his finger into your mouth, moaning at the tang of your own arousal on your tongue, hollowing your cheeks around the digit and swirling your tongue across the tip, before releasing matty's finger with a pop. you smile radiantly up at the love of your life, watching you with lust-heavy eyes, and you speak. "yummy."

"jesus christ, you're such a slut. i fucking love it," matty laughs in disbelief, before kissing you again. as he does, the finger that was just in your mouth makes its way between your legs again, ghosting over your clit before teasing your entrance. "and i love fucking you. can i, now, with my fingers?"

"please, please."

"so polite, even when you're so fucking desperate for me. alright, sweetheart, i'll give you what you want."

with that, matty settles himself between your thighs, and - without warning - thrusts two fingers into you, moving them at a rapid pace. you whine at the sudden pleasure coursing through your body, clenching around matty's fingers and clawing at the bedsheets beneath you. "fuck, please don't stop, want you to make me cum."

matty lets out a huff of laughter, eyes fixated on the fingers he's repeatedly ramming and curling inside you. "oh, you wanna cum, do you? that all you want?"

whimpering out a series of "no"s, you shake your head - although, you're not sure if your husband will see the motion over the writhing of your hips and subsequent movement of the bump. "want your tongue on my clit, too."

"beg for it, then."

jesus christ.

you do as you're told, though, aching for matty to eat you out like you know he's aching to do. "god, fuck... please, baby, please - oh, holy fuck - please, need you to go down on me, need your mouth on my clit, need it to make me cum- oh, yes!"

just as impatient as you, matty starts to suck on your clit before you've even finished your wanton pleas, his fingers still pounding into you. he moans into you at the taste, the hum reverberating through your body and bringing you closer to your quickly approaching orgasm, then flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue - deft, rhythmic strokes you soon recognise as letters, your husband spelling out his name on the most intimate part of your body. whether it's because of your realisation or the motion itself, you don't know, but you immediately feel the white-hot pleasure in your lower body begin to grow rapidly and make your legs jerk involuntarily. "shit, matty, m'close, m'so fucking close. can i cum? please?"

matty pulls his mouth from you to speak; his left hand replaces it on your clit, while his right continues thrusting into you. he looks like sex itself, cheeks red and glistening with your wetness, dark eyes hungry. "do it."

you don't need much more encouragement - even without your husband's hands deftly working on your core, the sheer sight of him and the rasp of his command could tip you over the edge into bliss. with a cry of his name, your body goes rigid and then shakes uncontrollably as your orgasm hits, matty moaning in harmony with you as he feels you clench and then cum on his fingers. he pulls them out of you and into his mouth, eyes closing in ecstasy as he does; when they reopen, they flick to make contact with yours in a wink. then, just as the aftershocks of your climax are beginning to peter out, matty ducks his head back down to your centre and licks into your entrance, turning the epicurean geiger counter in your body back up to an eleven in one fell swoop.

you gasp at the sensitivity, reaching down as best you can to grab a handful of greying curls, but your efforts are futile; matty locks his arms around your thighs in a vice grip and continues to essentially make out with your cunt, nose bumping beautifully against your clit as he tongue-fucks you to another rapidly approaching orgasm. because you're still recovering from the first one, this climax builds so quickly within you that you don't even have time to warn matty - he knows you're about to cum, though, from the way your legs go from shaking to clamping around his head (something he's told you on more than one occasion that he absolutely loves) and your moans become stuttered, shallower, sexier. so he keeps his motions up, only stopping once he feels your wetness soak his face and hears you scream his name, your legs loosening and trembling slightly on the silky sheets.

after wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and stretching his slightly-sore jaw, matty pulls himself up from between your legs and rests on one arm beside you, leaning over to kiss you deeply. "my good girl. how are you feeling? are you still comfy? do you need a little break?"

panting, you beam up at your husband, matching his lovestruck gaze with your own. "i'm feeling like i want you to fuck me now."

matty laughs, kissing your nose. "you're insatiable, missus."

"and you love it."

"i really do," matty smiles, shifting to hover on his knees above you. "position still good for you?"

"yeah, darlin'," you say, making a little kissy face at matty - he makes one in return, pressing his lips to yours in a little peck - and bringing your hands to pull down the waistband of his boxers; matty quickly takes over, yanking them off and leaving you both naked. "now fuck me hard, please."

"mmm, alright," matty smirks, running the head of his hard cock up and down your folds and teasing it at your entrance. "but remember - you asked for it."

his cock is inside you as soon as he finishes talking, both of you groaning as matty bottoms out - yours quickly turns to a whine as he begins to thrust into you, deep, hard strokes that have your eyes rolling back into your head. the sight of you so fucked out - tits bouncing with every thrust, hands clinging to the metal bars of the headboard, mouth agape and jaw quivering - makes matty moan too. "fuck, look at you, taking my cock so perfectly like the good little slut you are. you were fucking made for me, weren't you?"

you can't even answer, too caught up in how good your husband fucking you feels to remember how to talk. matty, who never misses an opportunity to be ever so slightly sadistic, isn't letting you get away with staying wordless. "answer me, baby."

"mhmm," you manage to croak out, whimpering as a particular thrust hits a particularly good spot inside you. "yours."

"gonna prove it and cum for me again, angel?" matty pants, grabbing your ankles and holding your legs in the air for leverage so he can continue to hit that one perfect spot inside you. "gonna cum all over my cock, and make me cum too? make me fill you up again?"

whining again, you nod furiously. the two previous climaxes have loosened your body up so much that you can feel your third hurtling towards you already - you just need matty to keep up his thrusts for a tiny little bit longer. "don't stop, please, keep fucking me. m'almost there."

"yeah? me too, sweetheart," matty breathes, his thrusts continuing, but getting slightly shallower. "fuck, i'm close. you wanna cum together?"

"please."

"ok, darlin', whatever you want," your husband smiles dazedly. leaning forward slightly again, his right hand leaves its place on your ankle to take up its original residence on your clit, circling in time with the thrusts. "let go for me, whenever you're ready. c'mon, sweetheart, come on my cock."

you're not sure what triggers it - matty's words, his hand on your clit, his relentless fucking, the way he looks at you like you hung the moon, or a combination of everything - but, as if on cue, your third orgasm of the morning hits you. and it hits hard, sending your eyes and head back and your back arching off the bed in sheer pleasure; so hard, in fact, that it triggers matty's orgasm, signified by a guttural cry of your name and a feeling of pure warmth in your core as he finishes inside you.

again, your husband pulls out of you quickly and licks a flat stripe up your core. this time, though, he's back hovering over you within seconds, tapping your lips with two fingers. instinctively, you open your mouth, and matty spits the mixture of your respective releases onto your tongue; you swallow obligingly without comment nor question, earning you a radiant smile, an affectionate "slut", and a soft, lazy kiss.

you pull away reluctantly from matty's lips, bringing a hand to caress his slightly stubbly jaw. "thank you. i love you."

"i love you too, darlin'," matty nuzzles into your hand cutely, a total contrast to the way he was fucking you mere minutes ago. "what a way to start the morning, yeah? proper workout, that."

"well, i did need a way to work off all that extra pasta the little nonnas in the restaurants keep force-feeding me," you giggle. "'for the bambino' my arse. they're just trying to get us not to leave!"

"i think i could stay here, you know," matty ponders, absentmindedly smoothing your hair. "you, me, baba, in this town, in this bed, just snuggling our days away."

"that sounds dreamy."

"yeah," matty sighs, pecking your lips again. "we don't have plans until dinner tonight - wanna practice staying here and snuggling for a few hours?"

"nah."

"what? why?"

"because," you sigh, rubbing your stomach. "baba's woken up and she'd decided it's time for me to piss again."

matty snorts. "impeccable timing. i think she gets that from me. remember that time i-"

"matty, i love you, i really do, but i do need you to shut up and help me to the bathroom now, please."

"alright, alright. whatever you need, wifey."

#matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty x reader #mads muses #matty asks #dad!matty

370 notes · View notes

ninigummysmile · 1 year

Text

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 - 𝐉𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 & 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐚

Summary: You and your girlfriend are having a very intimate moment when you are interrupted

Dom!Jennie x Lisa x Sub!Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Warning: This story contains +18 content. It is not the responsibility of the author if minors read it.

Important: English is not my first language so, please, forgive me if there are any mistakes

Words: 853

With your eyes closed, you feel Jennie push the strap on into your pussy. Her breasts pressed against yours and you wrap your legs around your girlfriend's waist.

“Look at me” she whispers in your ear. When you open your eyes, you can see her pupils dilated with lust.

She further increases the speed making you lose your breath with each thrust. "I want to see you make a mess on that dick”

You're so lost in pleasure that you don't hear the front door open and your girlfriend's flatmate walk in.

If you knew someone else was home, even in a far away room, you would moan softly and try your best to control your volume. But since the two of you haven't heard anything, you continue to make noise without worrying about anything else.

When Jennie hears footsteps through the door she stops for a moment. You look at her confused and understand why she stopped when you hear someone knocking on the door.

“Jennie? Are you there?"

“Yes” she replies. She looks into your eyes and looks for any discomfort, not finding any, she goes back to saying “you can come in”.

You try to hide your face in your girlfriend's neck, but she pulls away and gets on her knees, the plastic cock still inside you.

As embarrassed as you are to be exposed like this, you feel a flame ignite inside you imagining someone else watching you and your girlfriend fucking.

Lisa stops in the doorway with her hand on the doorknob and stares at the two of you. "Are you sure I'm not in the way?"

“No, you can come in” she resumes moving her waist slowly.

Lisa doesn't take her eyes off you, your body. She sits on the edge of the bed and holds back the urge to place one of her hands on your breast.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Jennie says smiling seeing that you don't take your eyes off Lisa and she knows exactly what's going on in your head: that you want to turn Lisa on just by watching the two of you. She always tells you how attractive you are and now is your chance to show it to someone other than her.

“If you want me to go to the market to make dinner or if we are going to order somewhere”

“I think we better order. Where do you want to order, Y/n?” your girlfriend asks as if she is having a normal conversation at a table while she has lunch.

"Chinese food?" you suggest as you feel your pussy contract more and more on the fake cock.

“She can still respond, Lisa. I'm going to have to fuck her more until she can't even remember her own name, what do you think?”

“I think she would love for you to do that” she replies, brushing away some hair that has stuck to your forehead. The way they talk about you like you're not even there just makes you reach the first symptoms of orgasm faster. Your legs begin to shake and your moans become more frequent.

“Do you like Lisa watching you, pretty thing? Are you going to cum just because someone else is watching? What a whore you are”

“I didn't know my best friend's girlfriend was so naughty. Show me how you cum when Jennie fucks you"

Jennie takes one of her hands from your waist and circles your clit with quick movements making you cry and grab your own breasts.

"Just let go. Cum Y/n, cum hard on that fake dick. Show your girlfriend how well she fucks you” Lisa whispers in your ear and you feel the first waves of pleasure wash over you and your body tenses before completely relaxing.

You scream Jennie's name who helps you through your orgasm without stopping her movements once. Just as you're about to complain about being too sensitive, you open your eyes to see your girlfriend cumming just by watching you reach your climax. It's not the first time she's come off just watching you and Lisa almost does the same.

You hear her moan in your ear "God, you look like a goddess when you cum"

You smile at her and hear your girlfriend laughing “Did you like it? Y/n doesn't mind if you want to watch it again, maybe you might even join in” she raises her eyebrow knowing this is one of the fantasies you want to try the most.

“You don't mind, Y/n?”

When you don't respond and just nod your girlfriend laughs again "I think I managed to make her not remember anything"

“Well, I guess there's no way to refuse such an invitation, right Y/n?” Lisa asks stroking your arm. You nod again and sigh, already imagining the next time you'll be able to check one more thing off your list. Sex with someone watching: check. Sex with two people at the same time: coming soon, check.

You couldn't be more grateful to your girlfriend who makes these fantasies come true.

#kim jennie #jennie #Lisa #kpop smut #blackpink #jennie smut #lisa smut #blackpink smut #jenlisa #jenlisa smut #ninigummysmilesmut #jennie x reader #lisa x reader #jenlisa x reader

554 notes · View notes

octuscle · 3 months

Note

My roommate's workplace has really been trying to crack down on what's been referred to as a "hostile work environment." I like my roommate, but I'll even admit he probably contributes to that hostility. He's incredibly snobby if I'm being honest and while I can tolerate it, not many people can. He was telling me about how his workplace set up a new chronivac tool where if you insult someone, that insult is applied to you. So for example, my roommate made a comment about one of his gay coworkers. When I got home, I found my roommate hooking up with some guy and saying he's gay now. He called someone a slob and now he barely helps clean up the apartment. It just all seems pretty strange and I'm afraid if it keeps going, he'll be a completely different person. Any advice?

There are two central problems: First, your roommate has signed his employment contract to be subject to disciplinary adjustments in the event of antisocial behavior. And secondly, his arrogant antisocial remarks constantly veer from one extreme to the other. After you get fed up with his untidiness and the filled condoms lying around everywhere and you call him an undisciplined faggot, he insults you as a reactionary heterosexual bourgeois.

Shit, you think he's really hot in that body. And it's really practical for living together. Yes, the morning flag appeals are annoying, but the beds are made with military precision. And in the kitchen and bathroom, everything flashes as if your mother, your grandma and all your aunts had arrived as a cleaning squadron. In the morning, he's long gone after his morning exercise when you get up, in the evening you only hear him moaning while he does sit-ups and push-ups, otherwise you hardly notice him. Really the perfect roommate!

When your flatmate returns from his morning run the next morning, he crosses paths with a couple of left-wing extremists staggering home drunk from a party. They shout "Nazi" and "militarist" after him. He insults them as left-wing faggots.

The good news is that your roommate was fired after spraying "imperialist pack" on his employer's facade. So the anti-discrimination measure no longer applies to him…

The bad news is that the kitchen is no longer as clean as it used to be. But you fuck on the kitchen table much more often.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #tank top #ai image

94 notes · View notes

violetsandshrikes · 2 years

Text

yesterday we found an old stray cat curled up and dead in our shed. he was amongst the animal hay and shredded paper and almost looked to be sleeping, tail tucked up under his chin, chin pressed to his chest.

my flatmate and i carefully lifted him into a box lined with old towels. we gently brushed out all the mats in his fur with a spare brush and used an old damp cloth to dab off dirt and grime from the white patches on his face and side. she disappeared for a moment before returning with some of the recent pink spring blossoms in the street to sprinkle around him. “he’s a scarred old man who’s obviously seen so much,” she’d explain later. “it may have come late, but i still want to give him some love and dignity.”

we took him to a vet clinic who ran a scanner over his body and found no chip. in some ways, i was a little grateful for this - i was saddened he had no home to miss him, but the way his form was so slender and the multiple old scars and wounds on him form made me glad he had no home to neglect him like this either.

by chance, the contracted cremation company was there to pick up pets that had passed away this week. an older woman was introduced to me by the vet, who’s face softened when she heard why we were there. she handed me her phone and showed me photos to flick through, dozens of a large native garden with flowers and butterflies and ornaments and markers. “we take in any strays or unclaimed animals in this region,” she explained to me. “we have a garden specifically for them - somewhere they can rest. we could never leave them out there just because no one wants to pay or organise.”

after a further chat, she invited us to come out this weekend and spread the ashes of the old cat and all the other stray animals throughout the garden. my flatmate is in her room writing a short speech for them.

“they’re special,” she tells me firmly. “they deserve respect and love. ill show it to them now. better late than never.”

#tw animal death #tw death #katie rambles

829 notes · View notes

ben-learns-smth · 9 months

Text

iced latte. that urban jungle feeling. wearing my favourite jacket again. a familiar laugh. jokes so bad they're good again. a new friend. the relief when the truck is finally empty. having dinner while cross-legged on the floor

currently on a quest to try every café berlin has to offer and that included 2 incredibly cosy hours on a couch in a loft that ended with half a heart attack (I'm afraid of heights, no idk why I climbed up there but I would do it again lol)

things I did the past days:

signed my contract (I have a job!!)

tried 2 new cafés (4/5☆; 3/5☆)

wrote scary emails

had drinks with a friend

cleaned the flat

groceries

helped my flatmate move in

organised lots of things

read the last pages of: none of the above - travis alabanza (5☆)

dancing while hanging up laundry to: jungle - xambassadors

#first nothing happened and from wednesday on everything did??#bookworm tag #mine #knife gang #studyblr #uniblr

95 notes · View notes

icallhimjoey · 2 years

Text

I call him Joey, just to feel something

so there we go.

Joe Quinn fanfiction The Full Collection (updated 2 December 2022)

Like a Poem – slow burn, fluff, hurt/comfort part one - part two - part three - part four - part five Summary: Joe finds solace in a quaint bookstore, your bookstore, from a hectic situation in the streets. But, you’re closed. But then also, it’s Joseph Quinn.

A Lot Like Love – slow burn, fluff part one - part two - part three - part four - part five Summary: A continuation of Like A Poem. You lull in between definitions of relationship: bookstore owner and customer? actor and fan? friends? even lovers?

Today He Loved You Extra – fluff, hurt/comfort part one - part two Summary: You are an Independent Woman™ but overestimate yourself. You hurt yourself because although very strong, you’re also a dumb bitch and Joe takes care of you.

Caught Red Handed - 18+ smut, fluff Summary: You are a chronically-online girlfriend to a boyfriend who very much isn’t. You introduce Joe to an online world that surrounds him, and he hates it. A lot.

Moving Up – angsty, fluff part one - part two Summary: Joe's had enough of living with a flatmate but doesn't leap at the chance to move in with you when you ask. What a dick. It makes you spiral into doom-thoughts until you puzzle together what's actually going on.

Going Off Script – kinda smutty a little Summary: You’re riddled with anxiety ahead of your spicy scene with Joe, but you’re both professional actors and work it out together.

We Kissed – fluff Summary: You confront Joe about secret feelings he’s had for you. For years. Without telling you about it. The absolute nerve of this man.

Perfect – angst Summary: Unable to escape harsh online comments after your boyfriend's newfound large-scale fame, Joe is shocked when he finds out how much they really affect you.

Cold Feet – fluff Summary: You are cold and Joe's body is a furnace. One plus one equals two, baby!

Great Break – angst, fluff Summary: You’re a single mother of a fussy child and in desperate need of a break. Then there’s dream angel boyfriend Joey, giving you one. Baby Hazel pt 1

Sunday Morning - fluff Summary: You’re a single mother who got a full night’s sleep, which is glorious, and in the morning you get to snuggle with Joe and your daughter. Baby Hazel pt 2

Right Here - fluff Summary: You catch your daughter calling your boyfriend ‘dada’ and you are not okay. Not helping is how terrifyingly calm and collected Joe responds to it. Baby Hazel pt 3

Everything’s Right - fluff, hurt/comfort Summary: Hazel isn’t feeling well, but can’t communicate what’s wrong. It’s awful, but Joey knows how to fix it. Baby Hazel pt 4

My Bully Boyfriend - fluff Summary: Joe finds your first grey hair. It's traumatizing and then Joe has the audacity to poke fun because he's a bully boyfriend (said with love).

His Neck - smutty? turned me on at least, idk Summary: Joe has a neck. And hands. That's literally the story. I wish I could come up with a longer summary, but I'm just presenting the facts to you. Enjoy!

And he wasn’t there – big angst Summary: Joe’s off for auditions across the pond for a few weeks, which is just dandy. You pretend you’re absolutely fine when cramps released from hell invade your body (big tw: miscarriage).

Actually Pregnant – fluff Summary: You've decided to try for a baby, and Joe has no idea what he's doing, but it's very cute.

Let’s Have This Baby - fluff Summary: You’re days overdue when contractions wake you in the night. Joe get’s to practice his dad-skills on you as you try to pretend you’re not in active labour because, obviously, labour’s very scary.

Hormones - fluff Summary: You're on your period again, a month after you had the last one. What a shocker. Joe knows just what to do to take care of you because he's a good boyfriend.

Homesick - fluff Summary: Joe's far away from home, far away from you, and he knows just the thing to make him feel better.

Shit, that was hot - fluff? (idk its sorta cute) Summary: Joe's been left in the dark about a certain scene partner in a pivotal moment in Stranger Things, only to be surprised by you. Joe Keery fucking loves it.

Warmth, Comfort, Darkness, Silence - hurt/comfort Summary: You’re not a fan of flying, and to make matters worse, Joe is fine with flying. Then, a migraine strikes you and Joe does everything in his power to help.

Last Ones Standing - angst, fluff Summary: Joe’s fuming because you spent two and a half (two and a half!) (it’s a big deal, you'll see) talking to one of his friends at a party. It’s got good reason, but Joey’s mad mad.

Bonding - fluff Summary: There’s a four-day-old baby in the house and Joe loves her more than he loves you. And you’re in pain. And exhausted. Still, it’s adorable.

Surprise - fluff Summary: Joe’s finally back from his grueling trip to LA and you decide to surprise him at the airport. Joe’s reaction is something you definitely weren’t expecting.

Flashed - fluff Summary: Joe is naked a lot - so are you, until you’re naked at the wrong place and at the wrong time.

Stay For Longer - fluff Summary: You’ve had an awful day at work so you just need to not exist for a little while. Your Joey joins you and you don’t exist together for longer.

Easier In Greece - fluff Summary: Joe’s in an interesting stage of life when he’s offered an equally interesting project. You whisk him off to Greece and spend eight days together on a boat with high expectations of which none turn out to be true.

Forty-seven Days - fluff Summary: You’ve not seen Joe for forty-seven days, and you think he’s coming back tomorrow but he lied and surprises you at your job a day early and he’s all hands and hips and mouth. Anne hates it.

The Last Piece - Christmas fluff Summary: It’s the day before Christmas and you’ve eaten all your advent calendar chocolates weeks ago, because fuck the system. Joe hadn’t though, and with just one piece left in his calendar, you can’t really help yourself, can you?

Only Temporary - slow burn, fluff part one - part two - part three - part four - part five Summary: Joe needs a temporary living space, and you happen to have a spare room to let. One plus one equals two, baby.

Ground Rules - angst, fluff Summary: You accidentally fall pregnant. It’s Joe’s, but you’re not together and… so, now what? Together you figure out a construction that you have to keep convincing yourselves and everyone around you will actually work.

Soft Hands - fluff Summary: You come home from a night out at Halloween, absolutely plastered. Joe’s waited up for you and helps you into bed safely.

Meeting Eddie - fluff Summary: After learning of your flatmate’s break out role as Eddie Munson, you watch Stranger Things to see what all the fuss is about. Joe joins you for season 4 episode 1 and you suspect the worst.

Friends First - fluff Summary: Your friend catches you and Joe with sneaky hands under the table and tries to make sure nothing happens between the two of you. Again.

One Day - fluff Summary: You wake up before Joe’s alarm, and bask in the vision of him still asleep, buried into the pillows. You can’t help put your pencil to paper to make the image last forever.

Saturn’s Eyes - fluff Summary: On your first date with Joe, he suddenly has an idea. He needs to show you something back at his flat.

I’ve Got You - 18+ smut, fluff part one - part two - part three - part four - part five Summary: You and your flatmate have perfected the art of wingmanship for one another. It’s a great system that seems to work every single time, until you’re left unsatisfied.

A Whisper Away – fluff, hurt/comfort, angst part one - part two - part three - part four - part five Summary: A continuation of Like A Poem and A Lot Like Love where we dip into your November for a couple consecutive years and see how you’re getting on with the bookstore, Joe’s career and… other changes.

Sway With Me – fluff Summary: Joe wakes up in the night, and you’re not in bed with him and it hurts him physically because he’s a soft boy in love and it’d adorable.

Would You Still Love Me - fluff Summary: Joe finds himself cuddled up to you on the sofa, and it’s all sweet and soft, and then you ruin the moment by asking a very important question: would you still love me if I was a worm?

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joey quinn #masterlist #fanfiction #joe x reader #joseph x reader #stranger things 4

459 notes · View notes

arsonist-chicken · 7 months

Text

yeah everyone who doesn't want to hear my flatmate rants, block the tag "jess' flatmate rants", I have a feeling there's going to be lots of those in the future

#i'll also see what they have to say tomorrow and depending on that i'll maybe email the landlord to ask if there's any chance I can get out #of the contract without my flatmates' agreeing and without finding someone to take over my part of the contract #god knows i do not want to subject anyone else to that but i also can't pay double rent #mine

10 notes · View notes

magidragon12 · 2 years

Text

BBC GHOSTS as university flatmates, because that's pretty much their dynamic:

(Low-key based off my own experiences)

Julian is that one guy from a middle class background who somehow still has the money to shop at M&S, but he's a dick and won't share his fancy pasta with anyone. Out drinking pretty much every night, but somehow appears composed at a reasonable hour in the morning. Dominates the TV.

Pat is always trying to get everyone engaged in flat activities, game nights, movie nights, he goes round everyone's door to try and get them to sign up. Tries to settle disputes, even when it's clear we're past the point of negotiation. Leaves passive aggressive post it notes on someone's door when they've gotten under his skin though. Makes all his meals for the week in one go, and his shelf in the fridge is just full of tupperwear.

Kitty is big on communal food. If you want to use her milk for your breakfast coffee, then you can, just ask first. She'll also bake communal cakes, or leave a tin of sweets out with a post it note "take one!", can and will cook for you if you're too tired. Is just generally really giving. Wants to hear all about the cute person on your course and stays up to watch TV with whoever else is hanging around at that hour.

Humphrey is the elusive shadow roommate who hardly ever emerges from his room, and it took several weeks of constant gossip to even learn his name. He's friendly but secluded. Uses the kitchen late at night so people hardly ever catch him.

Fanny is always hanging out in the kitchen, and insists on gossiping with everyone about their day. When someone mentions going to a club she'll scoff and give them the judgy eye, but wait around the next morning to give them shit about their hangover and ask for all the details. Somehow always has the best food.

Captain is the enforcer of rules. Writes little notes to leave on the fridge where everyone can see them. Has read the entire rental contract and if you ever break it he's sure to tell you. Ban on flat parties. Draws up a schedule for the TV to stop Julian from hogging it, "and you all better stick to it!" The communal toaster in the kitchen belongs to him, so he can "ban" you if you piss him off (you'd still use it behind his back anyway)

Mary, another elusive one. If your room is next to her's you might hear the occaisonal odd noise coming through, but other than that, nada. Cooks her dinner at 3 am, chats with Humphrey while she does so. She struggles with conversation when there's a lot of people in the kitchen, but she'll smile and nod and follow along anyway. Stakes no claim to the television, but always eats Kitty's cake.

Thomas is usually hanging in the kitchen too, and there's really no escaping him. Tries to challenge himself by making something new for dinner every night. Fails miserably, but he's "too evolved" to use the microwave. Also shops at M&S and Waitrose but doesn't have the funds for it like Julian, so he's always broke as fuck. When he overhears you making plans he'll invite himself and you just have to deal with it. Lost his key-card about four times in his first week.

Robin is the most inconsistent. He can spend all his time in the kitchen, and then no one sees him for three weeks, then he reappears like nothing's happened. Will eat your food and use your utensils without washing them, and blame it on literally anyone else. Banned from the toaster, and the microwave. Still uses them. Definitely the loudest at night and in the mornings. If he's watching TV and someone walks in he'll stay perfectly still and measure how long it takes before they see him.

Alison and Mike are some of the upstairs neighbours. They are not happy.

Tag yourself I'm Julian/jk

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts thomas #bbc ghosts kitty #bbc ghosts captain #bbc ghosts mary #bbc ghosts pat #pat butcher #bbc ghosts fanny #bbc ghosts humphrey #bbc ghosts robin #bbc ghosts julian #alison cooper #bbc ghosts alison #bbc ghosts mike #ghosts bbc #six idiots #horrible histories #university #bbc ghosts au

399 notes · View notes

lazlolullaby · 11 months

Text

Where is the Moon Knight AU where Marc and Layla's patron Gods are swapped? and now my brain can't work because it extended into a full roleswap AU?

Layla's father came back from a successful dig with a trove of information and a lovely little ushabti of Khonshu. However, Abdullah is acting strange, talking to thin air, going out at night, researching further into obscure things. The lights are also flickering no matter how much she checks the generator and the wind keeps blowing despite the doors being shut.

Abdullah El-Faouly is the Eye of Khonshu: being banished for so long from the world, the God needs some time to adjust before going forward with his plan of punishing evildoers. (this was Khonshu trying so hard to be like the Ennead, but he could not abandon his nature to protect.) Abdullah ends up breaking the contract and Khonshu leaves the ushabti behind as a token of protection.

(then there is Arthur Harrow, the Talons of Khonshu. While his willingness to perform violence is a boon, sometimes he is too eager.)

Everything is fine for a while, then mercenaries break in to find the artifact. Bushman threatens them. Layla fights and takes down most of them, but her father is still hurt. One of the remaining mercenaries turns on Bushman. (He starts the mission as Marc - but since he can't handle another innocent death on his hands, backs out and swaps with Jake.)

During the struggle, Layla gets shot. Jake gets things done and then scatters. (he believes that he killed her. this has. repercussions on the system.)

Khonshu at first just wanted to revive Abdullah, but at his insistence he gives up being an Avatar so Layla can be revived. "she is going to be angry. You won't be there to see it." "she would have gone after them anyway."

(Khonshu abandons Harrow for this, not sure if it was worth it.)

Abdullah is right. Layla does go on a hunt, now as the Wings of Khonshu. Moon Scarab, to the underworld and the rumor mill.

She's mad about everything. Mad that her father presumed she needed saving, mad that she has to listen to an angry bird. (Rage, though it burns hot, always burns out. It's better than the cold certainty of Harrow's punish before wrongdoing. It is worth it.)

(Layla isn't unhinged, she's just gripping very tight to the hinges, thank you for asking.)

Weeks pass and she finds the last person of the mercenary group. A man cuffed to a wheelchair in a psych ward, sedated.

"His mind is fractured. Broken." Khonshu says. "It could be a fitting punishment, to keep him here. His body rotting while his mind spins in fruitless cycles."

"or he could be very good at hiding. One way to find out."

Layla is an excellent forger - a release for the merc, a small flat and money to keep him in town while he recovers from treatment. She feeds him a lie about being a family friend. There's a flicker of distrust.

"I've got a condition - blacking out, memory issues, insomnia - I'll be up reading all night." He says his name is Steven, but she knows better. "Are you sure you want to be flatmates?"

"I have places to be at night." Khonshu flickers the lights.

"Oh. Fine. Night owl, that's...fine."

"Don't worry about the lights, the landlord never answers the calls." don't mind that she's the landlord.

Her coming home with bruises and cuts. Steven flinches, insisting they go out to get bandages because they don't have a proper first aid kit. The awkward stare off with a hurt lady and a nervous guy VS the night shift cashier that's Seen it All. "bar fight. I won." Layla grins, blood on her teeth.

(The little moment where they're close as he's putting a bandage on her nose and being. so. tender. to someone who's never been more than 'distractedly polite' to him. His face changing to something new, something strange and lovely.)

When she finds him hitting himself, it's not that hard for him to explain. "I don't - I don't know if this is real. Jake is very sure you're dead!"

It turns out after the night of the attack, Jake got them far away as possible. He resolved to become a night driver and Steven to keep house in the day. Marc woke up and realized an alter was trying to build a life and just...let them. Better than mercenary work.

Steven gets worried about his missing time and gets therapy...and the therapist realizes, tells them and pushes them too hard to "come together as one whole"...Jake snaps and he's forced into a psych ward.

They cribbed together some form of communication on the psych ward thanks to a different therapist and the other patients. Marc's immense guilt wanted them to stay. But Jake and Steven wanted the body out. If they spent more time in the ward, they might reveal some crimes and the system doubts that they'll be allowed this level of help in a prison.

When Layla arrived to take them, it was an opportunity they didn't want to refuse.

"We don't want to be one person. We want to be ourselves." Steven fully introduces them after that. "We are the Hippo system! Like the Hippocampus of the brain that works with memory - that's Marc - and navigation - that's Jake!" He spells it out, "He Isn't a People Person Otherwise!"

"Who's he?"

Steven shrugs. "I dunno. I'm just here for general life, Jake is here for protection and gossip and Marc...he's well. Not as social as he'd like to be. I'm not supposed to know about it, that's not my "function", as the doc would say but...whatever happened that made us us was too much for one person to bear. It happened before we met you, so it's not your fault."

Layla shrugs. "What can you tell me about that night?"

"I can't tell you. That's part of the point, us being separate and all."

She eventually gets an answer out of them. Layla also lies and says she wasn't as badly hurt as they saw and shows off her Moon Scarab suit with the healing. (Jake accepts that answer at face value. Steven is a little concerned but willing to let it slide. Marc is suspicious.)

Now with their first round of secrets gone, they feel more at home. The Hippo System settles in as a decent partner in her artifact retrieval - he can put his mercenary skills to a good cause and she doesn't have to hide that burning rage as much. (the rage dims, is soothed and that's not good for vengeance.)

Khonshu starts to intrude, making noises about using the Hippo System as his next Avatar. Layla pulls away, tries to keep them apart because she Knows any more pressure on that mind is going to break them apart.

Wendy Spector dies and the Hippo system is thrown out of balance.

(The rage ignites. She's always held it together - her family after her mother died, her composure when people talked over her and her knowledge of Egypt, her home, now the Hippo system. It's always been up to her and she's resigned and vicious and not holding back.)

Layla makes a judgement call and goes after Harrow alone.

The system recovers. Steven now knows why he exists. He does not flinch from Layla's rage, does not fall for Harrow's twisted philosophy, not like Marc or Jake would. He rallies the system to action, to save the world.

Harrow was able to get dirt on Marc's past and tries to kill him with Judgement, but it doesn't work. He reveals about Khonshu, that his partner is lying to him and it does strain the relationship.

Things follow canon. Khonshu gets sealed into stone. Layla dies and Marc blends in as a follower.

Tawaret tries to ask him to be her Avatar, but he refuses. "Do you know what I did as a child to my brother? What my mother did to me over and over for it? Why would you even want me to defend women and children?"

And he releases Khonshu. "Ah. Big pigeon! No wonder Layla was so bloody ready to be rid of you! Get back to her then! Go on!"

And Tawaret comes back. "Temporary Avatar. I don't want any more voices in my head than I started with."

And he becomes Hippo Knight, because why not?

And they win against Harrow and the cult of Ammit. The system helps Layla stop giving into her rage to kill Harrow. Everyone should be able to choose good or evil.

(Steven kept in contact with the patients and nurses in the psych ward. Harrow is preaching violence again and well. He made his choice. Jake drives Layla over to meet with him. Marc holds her tight.)

#moon knight #layla el faouly #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #steven grant x layla el faouly #khonshu #marc spector x layla el faouly #lazlo's lulls #roleswap au #something about layla gets some mental illness and the system gets some stability #idk i kind of liked the thought of Layla's first impression of the system being him at his worst in the psych ward #then her learning about the different alters when they're ready #and the hippo acronym is VERY steven so #Inaccurate did system much like the show

73 notes · View notes