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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 26 days

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Beautiful Stranger

You Thought That You Were the Boss Tonight, but I Can Put Up One Good Fight (3)

Mommy!Wanda x Beefy!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend has invited you out to a party and has also told you to try and bring your new girlfriend.

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Alcohol and drug consumption, W eats R out, R uses a strap on W, W is called Mommy, R is called Daddy, Dom/sub dynamics

A/N: Here you go have a party scene

September 13, 2023

“Hey! Y/N!” You hear your best friend, Yelena, call as she catches up to you in the quad.

“Hey Lena, what’s up?” We were headed to the same class; English.

“There’s a party this weekend that Stark is throwing. Are you finally going to come or are you babysitting again?” She asks as the two of you walk and you huff, rolling your eyes.

“Not this weekend Lena, the boys are going to their dads and it’s a bit more than babysitting at this point. I told you that.” Lena laughs.

“I’m messing with you. If they won’t be there this weekend you should convince this hot milf you’re banging to join us.” You punch Lena giving her a dead arm as she hisses in pain. “Fuck jeez I can’t even joke with you about it.”

“Yes because you know I actually like her Lena. It’s not just about banging the hot mom next door.” You remind her and she smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“I know, so convince her so we can all meet her.” You roll your eyes.

“I doubt she’ll want to Lena. I’m sure her party days are over and done with, besides she can’t even drink.” You mention off handedly.

“Why not?”

“She’s pre-“ You stop yourself realizing you didn’t mention before that Wanda is currently pregnant and you’re banging her. Let's just add that to your list of kinks as Lena’s eyes widen. “Don’t. Lena. Fuck. Stop! Don’t look at me like that!” She has this shit eating smirk on her face.

“Look at you like what detka? Like you’re totally into older milf’s who are also pregnant and that’s why none of us could ever dream of getting you off? Did I forget anything?” You don’t dare tell Lena that she calls you Daddy when the two of you fuck.

“That’s it I’m gonna murder you and I’ll make it look like a goddamn accident Lena.” You say through gritted teeth.

“Fine, fine! I give! I won’t mention it, but if she says no at least let me meet her? I do actually care if she’s treating you right and not just using you.”

“She would never Lena...she’s incredibly sweet and kind and caring and loving and....” Lena starts making gagging noises. “Why do I even bother?” You start walking ahead of her. As she scrambles to catch back up and apologize, but, you decide to ignore her.

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“Hey Wands?” You ask as she makes dinner, the boys occupied in the living room by TV and video games.

“Yes pretty girl?” She flicks her eyes to you as she prepares vegetables for a roast she’s making.

“I got invited to a party on Friday,” Wanda nods, listening as you speak, but concentrating on the vegetables she’s cutting. “and my best friend Lena said since the boys are going to Vis’s this weekend that we should both go...I know it’s a college party and I’m sure you have no intent in partying with any of us, but my friends want to meet this mysterious woman I always talk about,” You feel your face heat up, “I told Lena you probably wouldn’t want to go, so if you don’t want to that’s fine and we can-“

“Is it important to you?” She cuts me off.

“I mean you meeting my friends is important, but it doesn’t have to be the party Lena said-“

“Then we can go to the party.” She cut you off again, but you're surprised by her answer so much that you can’t even be mad.

“You want to meet my friends?” You ask, tilting your head, eyebrows knit in confusion as Wanda stops what she’s doing, moving around the island to stand between your legs, resting her arms on your shoulders.

“Of course I do sweet girl. I want to be a part of your life. Every part of it and that includes meeting your friends even if it’s some college party and I haven’t partied since I was your age sweet girl.” She kisses you tenderly and the boys make noises at us.

“Go back to your show boys. Mommy’s busy.” Wanda gives them a look and the boys giggle. We had told them yesterday morning about us after what had happened the previous night. You laugh with the boys and eventually so does Wanda.

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Wanda wears a green off the shoulder frilled and layered dress that falls to her mid thigh. You look her over and before she can even say anything as she looks herself over in the mirror You come up behind her, wrapping your arms just under her belly which the dress hides nicely as she decided she didn’t want your friends other than Lena you told her you had accidentally let it slip. Wanda wasn’t mad thankfully.

“You look amazing beautiful girl.” You kiss her neck, her hair is flowing in waves over her shoulders and her make-up is impeccable.

“You think so?”

“I know so. I’m looking at you and it kind of makes me wanna skip the party and just fuck you all night with my cock.” You whisper in her ear.

“Mmmm don’t threaten me with a good time.” She turns around, kissing you gently, not wanting to smudge her lipstick. You see her look over your outfit, you have decided to wear black skinny jeans, a white crop top and a cropped leather jacket that just barely falls past your tits. Your hair is down and straightened and you've got your knee high lace-up boots that have these little chains hanging off them.

“Mmmm pretty girl Mommy wants you so bad.” She bites her lip as she looks you over. You pull her chin up to meet your eyes.

“Behave yourself and you can ride Daddy’s cock until you see stars when we get home.” She simple nods and smiles. “Good girl. Grab your purse and let’s go.”

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You hold Wanda’s hand as you get inside, music blaring people drinking and doing drugs. You're offered a joint by some girl. You think she’s in your language class or maybe networking either way you smile, taking a long drag as you feel Wanda’s hand squeeze yours, pulling your attention to her. You're reminded that you've never smoked in front of her. It’s something you tend not to do, but when it’s offered you usually take it.

You hand it back to the girl and give a quick thank you as you find your group of friends in Stark’s basement where there are pool tables that people are playing at including your friends except for Lena.

“Hey guys!” You speak cheerfully as you see the three of them playing a game of pool. Peter, MJ, and Kate all look at you and smile as you hug each of them asking Kate where Lena is, who is currently grabbing drinks and shots for all of you. You nod and introduce Wanda to them,

“Guys this is Wanda. We’ve been kind of seeing each other all summer. Well not exactly all summer, but we met at the beginning of summer when I moved in.” You start rambling and Wanda stops you by squeezing your hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you all. I know Y/N here has told me you guys always invited her out, but she’s been turning you down because of me and I feel bad about taking up all her time, but she’s been a big help, She wraps her arms around your arm and You can feel her belly and her tits against you. You wanna melt into a puddle from the feeling as the conversation goes on without you.

“Okay who is ready for some drinks!?” Yelena calls out and Wanda snaps her head at the voice.

“Yel?” Wanda asks and Lena is looking at Wanda wide eyed.

“Oh hey Wands so you’re the one taking up my best friend's time!” Yelena walks over hugging Wanda like they’re old friends.

“Am I...am I missing something?” You ask, dumbfounded.

“Well if you had ever said her name I would have known you were dating Tasha’s best friend! Wow! This is crazy!” You punch Yelena once again giving her a dead arm. “Ah! Stop doing that! It hurts!” Yelena hissed, shaking her arm trying to get feeling back as quickly as she could.

“Tasha as in your big sister Nat? Natty? Natty bear?” Kate asks listing off literally every nickname we’ve ever given to her older sister.

“Yes! That Tasha!” You say and huff.

“Pretty girl it’s okay. Everything is fine.” Wanda reassures me as You lean your forehead against her temple,

“I need a drink...” You whimper to Wanda.

“Go have one it’s okay if you drink. Just because I can’t doesn’t mean you need to stop yourself.” You smile and pull her in for a kiss. You go over to the table that Lena put the drinks down at noticing she still brought over six shots and six beers, well bottoms up. You take one shot after the other of the vodka Lena had brought the clear liquid burning and setting your stomach a blaze then popped the top on the beer bottle, using the table to take off the top as you start drinking it, looking back as Yelena and Wanda talk the others getting involved.

You smiled though it was a turn of events. You weren't expecting your girlfriend to be getting along with all of your friends just fine and it didn’t matter that she’s ten years older than us, or that she has kids, or that she’s pregnant. She’s just Wanda right now. You move back over, feeling the buzz start from drinking and smoking, wrapping myself around Wanda from behind; kissing her neck. The other four were playing pool, talking with us in between turns and eventually we played a round of cut throat so we could all get involved.

A few hours later you were floating in the clouds. All giggling from drinking. Wanda says the goodbyes for you two and how nice it was to meet everyone, taking your keys as the two of you approach the car, “I’m driving sweetie, go get in your passenger princess spot.” Wanda teases, making you giggle.

“Jokes on you beautiful I like being passenger princess.” You tell her. “I hate driving sometimes. This is so much better.” You get comfy in your seat, closing your eyes after you've buckled in. As she starts driving you two home, she puts her hand on your thigh as you connect your phone to Bluetooth, putting on, Dove Cameron’s album Alchemical: Volume 1, skipping to the song Sand.

“I love hearing you sing pretty girl.” Wanda says squeezing your thigh, keeping her eyes on the road. You had your eyes on her the whole time you sang and she knew it.

“I’m not a great singer.”

“But you sing with your heart. So it’s beautiful.” Wanda assures me, making me smile.

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By the time the two of you got home you were feeling better. Though you still took the water from Wanda that she grabbed from the fridge. You sat up on the counter while you drank it as Wanda grabbed something small to reheat from earlier in the week. You watched her practically dance around the kitchen, humming a tune from the music you had playing in the car. She was absolutely beautiful.

“Wands?” You call out. When she looks over at you, your arms are outstretched, hands reaching for her. She smiled walking over to you and settling between your legs. Her arms wrapped around your waist and your own wrapped around her shoulders.

“Is this what you need, sweet girl?” Wanda's voice is muffled against your chest. You give her a small ‘Mmm’ into her hair. “I love you being Daddy, but it's okay when you need to be all soft like this. I still love you like this.” You knew how needy you could be at times, especially when you'd been drinking. You kiss the top of her head and take a moment to just breathe her in and cherish the moment.

“I know. I just prefer it. I can be myself with you Wands and it's all I've ever given you.” She looks up at you with a smile, getting up on her tiptoes to kiss you.

“Good.” You smile into the kiss. You try to lick her lip, to keep going, but she stops you. “Ah. Food first then we can have our fun.” You subconsciously let out a whine in displeasure. Wanda smirks, whispering in your ear, “Behave and do as Mommy says sweet girl.” You felt your eyes roll back as your stomach flipped.

Wanda had such an effect on you, sober or not. Usually you were able to overpower her; take the situation and flip it, but it was obvious to you that she wanted to win at some point. So you listened to her, even letting her feed you. You knew it made her happy. The smile on her face was as wide as ever. You knew Wanda loved being a mom, loved taking care of those around her.

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“F-fuck…” You moaned out as Wanda's tongue buried it's way inside of you. She'd already had you cum once, but you were even more needy than either of you had anticipated. You never let others touch you, but Wanda made you feel like you were on fire. Your hand tangled in her hair, hips rocking against her face as you moaned out, “Fuck…cumming…ahhh…” You bit your lip, feeling her tongue lap inside of you as you came down from your high.

Wanda crawled back up, after cleaNing you with her tongue. She leaned down to kiss you, tasting yourself on her lips. A moan slipped past your lips before flipping the two of you over carefully.

“My turn to make you feel good Mommy.” You leaned back down, kissing her. “I promised you my cock didn't I?” You saw Wanda's eyes light up, she'd been waiting for it. As you got up to put the strap on you looked over her body. Letting your eyes rake over her form, admiring it as you crawled up between her legs. “You are so fucking beautiful. I swear no one could even come close to you.” You told her as you slowly slid inside of her. A quiet moan slipped out as you leaned over her. “Look at Daddy while she fucks you.” Wanda's eyes locked with yours as you started your thrusts.

Slow and steady at first listening to every little noise she made because of you. Watching her body move beneath you. Everything about it was beautiful, perfect. Nothing to you was better than this. Nothing was better than what you two had built over the summer. Nothing was better than the family you've found.

#ley speaks #ley writes #ley writes series #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximommy #mommy!wanda #beefy!fem!reader

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remuslupinslittleslut · 1 month

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Okay hear me out teach me dynamic with a reward. James and Sirius have been so good so reader convincing Remus to let them spit roast her or one in the ass one in the pussy yknow while he watches, making sure they fuck her just right and eventually ends up joining somehow.

Idk just an idea

love your work xoxo

I got a bit excited and now this ended up being almost 2k. LOVED this request though, I'm thinking I might have to make a new list just for the teach me stuff, like it's another kind of poly marauders. If I had the energy to post content warning I probably would on this one it is quite filthy from time to time, but it thought it was v fun :)

Masterlist.

You had made a deal; if your boyfriends played well out on the pitch today, you’d give them a reward. It was a bit of an excuse, really, because they always played well.

Holding the hand of Remus, you sat on the edge of your seat, cheering as James made another goal. As he did a victory lap on his broom, your cheeks heated up – he always made sure to send you a wink and a wide grin. The cocky bastard knew what was coming. Squeezing Remus’ hand, you leaned in to whisper in his ear; “They’re good, really good.”

Remus chuckled, squeezing your hand in return. “Yeah,” he murmured, against your ear, eyes never leaving his two other partners. “We’re gonna have to give them a treat.”

To no one’s surprise, Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw with over 100 points, leading to a roaring party up in Gryffindor tower. The party, however, was just background noise as you waited on Sirius’ bed.

You and Remus had agreed, he’d tie you up in gold and red ribbons, leave you in their dorm and go get the others, who would be gifted your body for them to unwrap.

The cold air made your nipples perk as you lay on the bed. It was a dangerous game, you knew, letting your two subs take control over your body, allowing them to play the role of the dominant person, if only for a night. Remus had cautioned you, but after becoming submissive with Remus alone, you thought it might be fun to let them as well – besides, Remus would be there the entire time, watching, making sure everything went as it should.

“Are we getting our gift?” You heard Sirius’ voice as they walked up the stairs, excitement evident.

“Is Y/N in here?” James followed, just as excited.

Stopping just outside the door, you heard Remus speak, his voice determined and rough. “You’re about to be rewarded, not just for your performance today, but also for your good behavior these past few days,” he said, and you knew the look on his face without having to see him. “You’re going to be allowed one evening of full control – but remember, if you disobey any of our underlying rules, you will still get punished. Can you tell me what they are?”

“Don’t hurt ourselves or anyone else, always listen to safewords, always check for consent, don’t be rude to daddy and no lasting injuries,” James listed, as the good boy he always was.

“Good Jamie,” Remus’ voice was softer now. “Go ahead then.”

As the door opened, you felt your heartbeat quicken.

“Wow,” Sirius gasped, the first person in through the door. “Pretty girl, all wrapped up for us?”

You turned your head to face him from where you lay on his bed, ribbons cutting into your skin, making sure you stayed in place. You nodded as your cheeks heated once more.

“Prongs, you’ve gotta see this,” Sirius cooed, dragging James along.

James’ eyes were wide and glossy from behind round glasses, his brown cheeks tinted pink as well.

“Go ahead, boys,” Remus said, plopping down on his own bed. “Unwrap your gift.”

Their eyes moved between your body and Remus’, not sure if they were actually allowed. But when Remus chuckled and nodded once more, they pounced, hopping onto the bed and pulling at the strings around your body.

“Hi darling, you’re so pretty f’me,” Sirius said, leaning down to kiss you. His lips tasted like firewhiskey and his long hair tickled your face.

James was busy making sure all pieces of ribbon left your body, before he allowed his hands to grab at your tits.

“Go on then, boys,” Remus said from his own bed. “Get on with it.” Looking over to him, you saw his hand was wrapped around his semi-hard cock, slowly jerking up and down.

Arching your back, you tried to push James’ hands harder into your chest, as you moaned into Sirius’ mouth.

“Is that what you want, princess?” Asked Sirius, hand holding your chin as he pulled away slightly. “You want us to fuck you? Make you cum on our cocks while daddy watches?”

They knew you sometimes let Remus be your daddy, even as you were mommy to Sirius and James – but they’d never used it against you like that. It was hot, very hot, and you felt yourself slip further into your submissive persona even more as you desperately nodded up at Sirius. “Please.”

“Jamie, look at that, little slut wants us to fuck her,” Sirius taunted.

James still looked a little uneasy with the switched positions, but you reached out a hand to hold his. “Jamie, please, wanna taste you,” you whined, trying to ease him into it. “Please, Jamie, let me suck your cock.”

Your words made James’ eyes widen, before he looked to Remus, again. “Can I?” He asked.

“Yes, James, you can do whatever you want to her, for tonight,” Remus assured, cock growing harder.

Nodding, James got up and started undressing. Sirius did the same.

Having gotten consent, James wasted no time straddling your chest and leaning down to kiss you quickly before placing his hard cock right in front of your face. Doing a half crunch, you pushed your head up and opened your mouth, tongue falling out, eyes meeting James’. “Fuck,” he groaned, hips coming forward enough to push his cock into your open and waiting mouth. Using your tongue, you licked around the head, spreading precum around. He always tasted so good.

Between your legs, you felt Sirius’ fingers pushing against your swollen clit before diving deeper, slipping into your wet cunt. You were prepared, had let Remus finger you open before, making sure you were ready for your boys. Still, Sirius’ expert fingers plunging in and out of your pussy felt fuckin’ amazing.

“Such a good girl,” James murmured, having pulled out of your mouth temporarily, allowing you to breathe.

“The best,” Sirius agreed, tongue reaching out to lap at your sensitive nub. “So pretty, so tasty.”

You moaned, arching your back. It felt so nice, receiving all that attention and praise, and if you looked to the side, you saw Remus smiling softly, hand squeezing the root of his cock, trying to stop himself from cuming.

“Such a little cock-whore, though,” Sirius said, pushing the limits even further. “D’you want me to fill your little hole? D’you need cock on both ends to be happy?”

James groaned, Sirius’ words had made you moan around James’ cock, now back in your mouth, and the vibrations sent pleasure all through James’ body. “I think she does, pads,” James said, hand brushing hair out of your face.

Sirius’ fingers left you, making you feel empty and alone, but it wasn’t long until his cock replaced them, filling your dripping cunt, making you speared on cock from both ends. This was heaven. James’ hips moving slowly, pushing his cock down your throat, letting your nose get tickled by the hair and the beginning of his shaft on every thrust. Sirius snapping his hips, allowing your g-spot to be perfectly grazed by his head.

“Fuck,” Sirius groaned. “She’s taking us so well. D’you see this moons? Your cockslut is so good for us.” His head was thrown back, hands pressing into your legs as he thrust his hips, moving his cock in and out of you. “Fuck, James, flip her over.”

Both cocks pulled out of you, making you whine from the loss of contact. It didn’t last long though, soon you were flipped to lay on your stomach, head almost falling off the edge of the bed, but James’ hand in your hair kept you up as he pushed his cock into your mouth again. Behind you, Sirius straddled your thighs, pushing just your arse up as he, too, once again penetrated you – making you full of cock, and happy again.

Straining your eyes to look up at James, you used your tongue to give extra attention to his head, while your hips started moving in little circles, walls clamping down harder on Sirius. As much as you enjoyed this, you wanted to be active in their orgasms.

James went first, hands pulling even harder at your hair as he threw his head back, hips stuttering as his cock shot white globs of cum down your throat. Moaning, you opened your mouth, playing with his cum using your tongue. Leaning down, James gave you an open mouthed kiss, allowing his own cum to be split between the two of you.

Sirius, who had witnessed James coming down your mouth was also getting close, hips pushing against yours, hard. When James had moved away from you, Sirius leaned down to pull your chest up, one hand in your hair, the other squeezing your tit.

“Such a good little cockslut, huh, took Jamie so well, gonna let me cum in you? Fill you up? Watch it run down your legs? Gonna let me do that, huh?”

Sirius’ filthy words only made you moan louder, walls squeezing him harder.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m–” His hips slowed as he gave his final few thrusts, pushing his cum even further into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he kissed the back of your neck before moving away.

Remus, who still hadn’t allowed himself to cum came over. “Everyone okay?” He asked, looking at all his littles. “You did so well,” he looked at you. “But you two,” he pointed to Sirius and James, “missed something. You didn’t make our girl cum.”

They both looked ashamed, and a little disappointed that they’d missed something during their night.

Remus leaned down and kissed your nose. “Can you ride my face, darling?”

That sounded amazing and you quickly got up and sat yourself down over his face. His tongue was good, he knew how to use it and when he had to add his fingers to make sure you felt as good as possible. Licking along your damp lips, Remus used two fingers to push into you, the pads of his fingers immediately pressing against your spongy walls.

Moving your hips, you dragged your cunt along Remus’ face. You wished you could’ve disappeared into a world of pleasure, but his leaking cock looked so lonely, you had to lean down and wrap your fingers around it. Remus pushed his hips, making his cock glide through your fingers as he moaned against your heat.

The other two men were sitting next to you, mouths agape and cocks growing hard again after their orgasms. Watching them as you took Remus into your mouth, you saw their members bob at the view.

Remus quickened his pace, tongue licking and lips sucking around your clit as his fingers moved faster in and out of you. He wanted to make sure you came before you did. Hips and head moving faster, you felt yourself get thrown over the edge, wetting Remus’ whole face as you squirted, causing a chain reaction of Remus coming into your mouth, where James had just done the same thing. “That’s how you treat a girl,” Remus said, wiping his face with his hands, sending his friends a wink.

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bubblespalace · 3 months

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Headcannon: If The Sakamaki Brothers actually fell in love with you.

^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^ Includes: Shu, Reiji, Ayato, Kanato, Laito, Subaru, and all of them together (Because I love all of them and can't choose). ^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^

Shu Sakamaki 💛:

∆💛: Like all the brothers, he would hate he fall for someone who wasn't a vampire. He would try to deter himself from you, but he would fail.

∆💛 Converse-shoe would still be super lazy, but he would perk up a bit if you walked in.

∆💛 Would mock you even more. Calling you names and roasting you a lot, he would love your reaction.

∆💛 He would show off his violin skills and possibly play for you. He would try to make himself seem impressive.

∆💛 Shu would have a slight fear Reiji might attempt to take you from him since his younger brother has always wanted what he had. So he would be possessive around Reiji especially.

∆💛 He would sneak into your room and snake himself underneath you, so you were laying on top of him.

🎧You jolted up in shock when you realized the blonde vampire was underneath you. "Ahh! Shu-kun! What are you doing in here?!"

Shu smirked, his eyes still closed, and pulled you back down on top of him with one arm. "Shh... be quiet... you like this anyway... you lewd woman."🎧

Reiji Sakamaki 💙:

∆💙 Reiji would first try to tell himself it wasn't a crush, he would stay away from you. Whenever you visit his lab or study, he would turn you away. Until he came to terms he was in love with you.

∆💙 He would start giving you tasks, which you somehow completed perfectly, exactly the way he wanted. He would start being softer with you and less strict.

∆💙 He would take time to teach you about things, and he would be more patient with your trial and error. He finds it very admiring that you won't give up so easily when you don't get the information.

∆💙 You would become almost like his assistant, helping him with notes, and labeling formulas and mixtures.

∆💙 Rei-Rei would keep you away from Shu as much as possible, in fear that you would fall for him instead.

∆💙 Even when you make a mistake, he remains calm and very early goes off on you. It surprises you, since with anyone else he scolds until they start crying.

🧪The glass hit the ground with a shatter, you froze in fear. "Oh god, Reiji-kun... I'm so sorry, please don't be ma-"

"It's no problem." He said almost calmly. "Just clean it up. We shall get back to what we were doing after."🧪

Ayato Sakamaki ❤:

∆❤: This man would know right away he was falling for you, but he would be meaner to you to hide it.

∆❤: Eventually, he would try to impress you more. He would still be super mean, but he would do everything he could to make you notice him.

∆❤: He would invite you to his basketball games a lot, and he would hang out with you afterward. Which made the other girls give you an evil eye.

∆❤: However, he wouldn't lay up on you. Christmas Eve is the type to keep treatment the same. He'd still call you out by your breast-size, and drink your blood. (All the brothers might still drink your blood, but eh)

∆❤: Keeps you away from his brothers, particularly Kanato and Laito because he knows they can be the most dangerous. Only he's allowed to hurt you.

∆❤: If you were to ever do something nice for him without him having to ask, he would be stunned. You might even catch him blushing a bit.

🏀You walked up to Ayato with a kind smile on your face. "Hey, I made you some Takoyaki."

He paused for a good moment, almost in happy disbelief, before he regained his normal stature. "Good, Ore-sama was getting hungry anyway."🏀

Kanato Sakamaki: 💜

∆💜: He would be angry you made him fall for you, but after a few hours of angry screaming in his room, he calmed down and talked to Teddy about it.

∆💜: He would get you gifts, like dresses, babydoll shoes, and hair accessories. You would become his only, non-wax doll.

∆💜: In fact, Kana-na would never feel the want to turn you into a wax doll. You aren't like his past victims, he wants to watch you squirm forever.

∆💜: You would get princess treatment, except when he's angry. He would yell and scream at you, but he would very rarely hurt you when mad. He would hurt you more when he's happy, and he would praise you after for being so strong about it.

∆💜: He wouldn't just keep you away from his brothers, that's for sure, this man would keep you away from absolutely everyone. If someone so much as looked at you, he would slit their throat. You're his after all.

∆💜: The amount of tea parties you had in his room would be uncountable. Sometimes you talked, other times it was just comfortable silence.

🧸Kanato smiled at you, not the creepy off-kilter smile that made you feel hunted, but an actual, genuine smile. "What is it?" You asked sweetly.

Kanato kept staring at you. "It's nothing, my doll. Don't worry about it. You don't ever have to worry about anything."🧸

Laito Sakamaki 💚:

∆💚: He would have no idea what was happening to him. You weren't like the other girls he had been with, and it confused him. His heart rate quickened around you, heat rushed to his normally cold cheeks and he felt almost... nervous.

∆💚: Lai-Lai would probably end up asking Reiji what you were doing to him. Reiji would deadpan and explain.

∆💚: Laito was first in denial, because that's not what he thought love was, but Reiji carefully told him everything. After that, Laito made it his mission to get you to fall for him.

∆💚: He became the most romantic man on earth. Laito gifted you roses, chocolates, and anything else he could think of that you loved. Yet he was still shy around you sometimes and you caught him stuttering over his words a few times.

∆💚: Almost all sexual thoughts left his mind, (He still had a few, come on, this is Laito) all he was focused on was wooing you, and it stayed this way for a very long time.

∆💚: You would be very surprised by this change in him, and he would try to convince you nothing changed.

🎩Laito had snuck up behind you and put his arms over your shoulders. In his hands, was a beautifully arranged bouquet of roses. "Hi Bitch-chan." He purred with his Cheshire cat smile.

You giggled and took the bouquet from him, admiring the flowers. "What has gotten into you lately? What have you done with Laito, stranger?"🎩

Subaru Sakamaki 🤍:

∆🤍: He would break everything in his room in terror. He didn't want to fall in love, especially not with you. Subaru couldn't stand the thought of hurting you severely.

∆🤍: Toyota would avoid you like the plague, hoping he would fall out of love with you. Somehow you always found your way into his mind again...

∆🤍: He was crazy over you, he started admiring you from a distance, watching you as you did your homework in the living room. He was scared he would hurt you if he actually approached you. Soon, you noticed and confronted him.

∆🤍: After that, he spoke to you a little more often, but still kept his distance. Subaru also turned up his tsundere level from 100, to 10,000.

∆🤍: Would be secretly leaving white roses in your locker, and also doing little things to make you smile without you knowing it was him.

∆🤍: Tsunbaru might never confess to you, you might be the one to make the first move. He would be way too nervous to talk to you.

🗡Carefully you glanced at Subaru, making sure there was nothing he could mistake for anger or upset in your voice. "Subaru, did you leave this-"

His red eyes flashed to you in what you thought was disgust. "W-why would I leave you a rose?! Leave me alone, foolish mortal!"🗡

The Sakamaki's 💛💙❤💜💚🤍:

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: If they all fell for you, I wish you luck my friend. They will be competitive AF.

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: Expect their normal behaviors to either become more intense, or softer. It could go either way.

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: Reiji and Shu might try to battle it out for you since they will be each other's biggest threats. Ayato and Subaru might just fight too, since they don't get along well.

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: Kanato would end up dragging you into his doll room in the middle of the night. I can see him trying to brand you, burning his name onto your skin.

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: Laito would be relentless and would never leave you alone. You would have to fend him off 25 hours a day.

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: They all might just start fighting like little children, pulling you toward them like a rope in tug-a-war.

🎧🧪🏀🧸🎩🗡"Boys! I'm not a rag doll! Stop or you're gonna break my arms!" You shouted over Kanato's hysterical screams and Reiji and Shu's accusations toward each other.

Laito yanked you away, which released you from Reiji's and Shu's harsh grip on your wrists. "She's right, Bitch-Chan will choose me anyways, so why is it we must make a big fuss over this?"

"God, will you stop being such a pervert for one moment?!" Subaru yelled, looking as though he was about to punch something.

Sadly, your wrists only got that break before Reiji grasped onto the wrist Shu was holding onto and bit down into the sensitive flesh, making eye contact with him as his fangs made contact. "You fucking bastard," Shu growled and bit into the wrist Reiji had grasped before, possessively biting down hard enough for it to leave a mark that would last a long time. Soon, you had all the boys' fangs buried in your skin, gnawing on you like you were prey.

"I'm the best, right dolly?"

"Tch, don't be stupid, Y/N."

"You're smart, Y/N. You'll choose me."

"You lewd woman, choose the best choice."

"Ore-sama, obviously."

"Or your Laito-kun, Bitch-Chan."🎧🧪🏀🧸🎩🗡

#diaboliklovers #diabolik lovers headcanon #shu sakamaki x reader #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki x reader #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki x reader #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki x reader #laito sakamaki #laito sakamaki x reader #subaru sakamaki x reader #subaru sakamaki

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tarjapearce · 8 months

Note

soccer family Miguel meeting wife’s family for the first time and vice versa?

Oh dear. What a bumpy ride. 🙃

Bit of angst in the end. (Will do her meeting his family later, don't worry ~)

Pt 2 here

Teeth pulled at the inner soft skin on your lips, chewing and biting away the waves of raw anxiety that washed over you.

"Stop that. You'll hurt yourself."

Miguel mumbled as he drove to your family's home. It was an unsettling surprise for you to know that your family wanted to meet him. But what truly surprised you was the fact that they knew.

Ever since you moved out from your family's home at 18, many things stopped happening. Fights, verbal and emotional abuse that went both ways, the constant comparison to your other same age family members and you, and of course, you being pushed around and invalidated.

College was a different kind of freedom for you. And the start of a new life without them. You barely visited them, even skipped the most important holidays to be away from them. In a way, it was thanks to that that you met Jessica. She had been a wonderful support on your life.

"I know... just-"

His large hand covered yours to then give a kiss on the back of your palm

"You'll be fine. And if you don't feel comfortable enough, we can go."

"I'm uncomfortable already and we haven't even arrived yet."

"They can't be that bad"

You deadpanned and sighed.

"Corazón, look. I know family's difficult. I really do, but a couple of hours won't kill you. It's a good chance to prove them wrong."

"I've got nothing to prove them, Miguel."

"Right. Still, won't be a bad idea for them to see you doing fine. Talvez asi se callan el hocico y te dejan en paz" (Maybe that way they'll shut the fuck up and leave you alone)

You giggled at his words.

In truth was that you told him everything, it was sort of sad yet amusing that you bonded over trauma sharing. It was a mutual catharsis that somehow ended up strengthening your relationship. He didn't know them, but for the things you had shared with him, he knew he'd be curt and polite.

You'd warn him about their modus operandi. They'd present themselves as kind and welcoming, but bit by bit the snide and passive aggressive remarks and comments would show up. You had hope that after years of barely visiting they'd change.

Something you were about to find out as he parked outside the colonial looking home.

"No matter what, stay away from the Horchata. My auntie thinks she is good at it but... it's yuck."

He chuckled and soon, you'd get out the car. Miguel rubbed your shoulders soothingly in an attempt to ease your restless nerves.

----

"Buenas gente" (Hey, People)

One of your elder aunts, the only one you truly liked and always supported you back in college came to greet you with a loving hug, "Mija!"

"Hola tía" (Hey auntie)

You hugged her back and mumbled a quick 'I missed you' before letting Miguel come into view.

"Tía, This is Miguel. My boyfriend."

Auntie gasped at the sheer size of him but gave him a gentle smile.

"Nice to meet you, mijo."

"El gusto es mío, madrecita" (The pleasure is mine)

"Oh! He speaks Spanish!"

The two shared a brief laugh as auntie invited you further. With a hand Miguel held a small present, a bottle of your dad's favorite rum and bunch of roses for your mother. and the other one he held your hand.

It seemed like a regular carneada for him, except that this time there wasn't meats to roast, but soup. Your mom's special seafood soup that was only done in special occasions. You could tell it would be difficult to leave emotionally unscathed when your mom and dad, three aunties, two cousins, and your brother were there.

Upon you making an appearance before all of them, the world stopped for a second, your breath was caught in your throat as you mentally prepared for the game of pretense.

"Mi niña! Come here!"

Your dad followed by your brother made the first ones in making an approach. The size difference sure was shocking for them all. Your father and brother had to crane his head up to see Miguel.

"¿Qué tal? Un gusto conocerte." (How's it going? Nice to meet you)

Miguel shook his hand with him firmly, something your dad approved. And then Miguel handed the packaged rum to him.

He had explained how you'd told him about his favorite drink. Your dad invited you and introduced Miguel to the whole family.

Some of your cousins oggled him shamelessly. Earning a frown from you.

However the biggest challenge laid ahead. Your mother had been watching both from afar, tending to the food with some of your aunties.

And when it was her time to be greeted, you held tighter on his hand. His thumb rubbing on your skin, reassuring.

You'll be fine.

"Mamá" You mumbled and her so ever deep stare settled on Miguel. Not even in you first, but Miguel.

"Fo you, Ma'am" Miguel gave her the roses which she took with a strained smile.

"Thank you very much. Miguel was it, right?"

"Así es." (Correct)

"Are you hungry? Made your favorite soup."

Her stalking gaze shifted between Miguel and you.

"Thanks. A bit would be nice."

"Hm. Go sit, Miguel. We'll tend to this."

Her gaze returned to the food and you nodded at him. He wasn't comfortable with the idea to just sit and watch. But by the things you had told him, it was better to not create unnecessary drama for you.

-----

Everyone seemed at the expectance of something happening between you and your mother. Your brother was trying to make casual conversation with Miguel, but his curt and simple answers made him desist. Plus, it didn't help his mahogany eyes seemed lighter.

If they were nervous about him looking so big with deep red eyes, they'd surely freak out by his fangs. It instantly made your stomach churn, you knew Miguel didn't appreciate people pointing at his insecurities so brazenly, even worse without knowing him.

Everyone sat down, a little blessing before anything and soon the feast begun.

Of course, eyes were settled on both of you and your interactions. Miguel followed your instructions to then help you break the crab.

One of your aunties smiled at it.

"So, Miguel, where do you work?"

Here we go

"Lab Manager at Alchemax."

Your brother whistled and nodded approvingly, just like your father.

Your relationships with him sure was strained, but at least he seemed to have a bit more self criterion than the rest when it came to pick sides. You'd rather him neutral. Just like your dad.

"Wow, you surely outdid yourself this time, cariño."

That cariño sat sickly fake in your stomach. She was the one that always instigated the fights further when you thought everything would calm down. You didn't smile, just ate.

Miguel was given a beer, a round of collective gasps as he tried to open the beer with his fangs. Your other auntie made a cross sign on herself and your mother's eyes widened.

A custom you still couldn't get out of him.

"Do they hurt?"

"How does one get those? They look so cool!"

"Are they comfortable?"

Your eyes caught the glimpse of him tightening his grip on the spoon.

"Ya pues!" (Knock it off!)

"There is no need to yell"

Silence immediately came to the table as your gaze and your mother's clashed.

"Disculpa eso, Miguel." (Im sorry for that, Miguel)

your dad shook his head at your cousins.

"Do you plan on having kids?"

You couldn't help but hide your face in your palm.

"Mamá, stop."

"What? I just wanna know! You're getting old enough to have kids. And Emanuel is always asking about you."

"We haven't discussed it yet." Miguel cleaned his hands with lemon, rinsing away the fishy smell out of his fingers. The coldness in his voice only matched your mom's icy stare.

"Oh."

"But do you want to have kids, Miguel?"

"Dios mío, ma! Ya basta." (My god, Mom! Enough.)

"Why are you so mad over a question?"

Miguel's jaw clenched. It made sense for him why you didn't visit. The way you rolled your eyes, made the ones that had finished already to stand up and leave. Their cue to leave things unfold.

Your elder auntie seized your mom with a glare. Your dad only recoiled to himself and your brother sighed.

"Ma, eso no se pregunta." The only attempt of him to calm the boiling tension between the two. (Mom, you don't ask such things)

Miguel gave you a 'do you wanna go now' stare. And you shook your head. Leaving would only make things worse. But you found the perfect excuse to leave the table.

"Need help, mi amor?"

"Sure."

He was perceptive to pick up your cues, the both cleared up the table and took the dishes to the sink.

---

"I'm so sorry you had to put up with it." You mumbled as you washed and he dried. The kitchen felt tiny for him.

"S'fine."

"Are you mad?"

"A bit uncomfortable. But no, not mad."

"We're leaving after we're done here." a deep sigh escaped your lips, "This is exactly why I don't come here."

"Whose Emanuel?" You groaned and shook your head.

"A man mom thought it was fun to pair me with a long time ago. I never indulged him but he never got the memo ever since I left this place"

"Sounds like he never got over you."

"Yeah, cause mom kept feeding his hopes of me getting with him together."

"Is that why you moved out?"

"One of the reasons, yeah."

You finished the dishes and Miguel excused himself to the bathroom.

He could hear the voices from the other side. One of your aunts surely and your mom.

"I give them a year."

"Did you see his... fangs? I've never seen something like that! And his eyes too!"

"Esta niña... Me va a sacar canas verdes. From all The guys she could pick, she gets one that is twice her size. Why she can't pick up normal guys?" (This girl, will get me green hairs)

Miguel's eyes turned apprehensive as his mouth settled in a straight line.

He had to hunch over the sink to take a look of himself in the mirror. He looked pretty normal, by any standards, until of course, he smiled. Pointy canines bigger than the average people stood out the most. His eyes were a different shade of brown. That was all.

He was fine.

He was normal.

He knew things like this would happen, he expected a bit of trouble. Not this.

His head felt heavy. Sudden spiral thoughts plagued his mind, corrupting the good things he held dear in his mind.

"As long as he's rich, don't care."

"Emanuel's surely richer than him"

That was the final straw. He knew you weren't that type of woman. Hell, you had invited him multiple times, knowing that you'd get broke for a couple of weeks. And still did it anyways. You loved to pamper him.

Why?

His steps guided him back to you. You were stressed and surely would cry at night. But so far you were keeping it together.

Your heart sunk a bit when looking at him. Neither of the both could stand being a second longer in the house. He followed you as you said your goodbyes. You didn't hug none but your elder aunt, and your dad, though the latter got an awkward hug.

You went back home. Neither of you said much during the trip back.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#t writes✨#Pre Soccer Family ⚽🕷️

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starfxkr · 11 days

Note

bringing trailer park jayj over dinner you made early on and he’s got some lady his age in his trailer :( he hears you huff and throw the tupperware down by his door and wrap yourself up in your arms while you stomp away from his trailer

₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧

sometimes you wonder why you even tried. sure your relationship with jj was new and kind of tenuous but when he was good it was great, and you figured things were finally on the right path.

it's safe to say you weren't expecting to see him having a seemingly intimate moment with the woman who lives two trailers down from you. she was everything you weren't-- put together, respected, his age. but he told you it didn't matter. yet here you were looking stupid with your little tupperware bowl packed with pot roast, rice and veggies. there was no use in staying, not after seeing this, so you drop it at his door, the loud clattering no doubt getting his attention as you storm away, tugging your meager hoodie closer when you heard the screen door slam shut.

"aw fuck, sweet pea get back here!" you can hear his boots thumping on the gravel behind you but you don't turn around.

"jj just leave her alone, she'll get over it, you shouldn't be messing with her anyways she's just a little girl." the woman's voice echos and it makes you walk faster, doing your best to get away when his strong arms wrap around you.

he's too strong for you to break away, try as you might, and you give up, burrowing your face in his chest as you sob.

"why don't you just leave me alone? do you like hurting me or something?" you barely get the words out, soaking his shirt as sobs wrack your body.

jj doesn't respond at first, just rocking you in his arms and shushing you like a fussy baby.

"are you serious? jesse we were in the middle of something"

"hey fuck off! i'm handlin something right now."

the woman leaves with a huff and jj slowly eases you back to his trailer. the small porch is splattered with food, and he huffs out a laugh, "can't believe you went through all that to fix me somethin to eat."

you sniffle, your lashes are clumped with tears and lips swollen from biting them, "well...you said you were hungry."

this time he lets out a real laugh, bending down to kiss your plump lips and stroking the tears from your cheeks, "yeah? i did, didn't i. got any left?"

#✨.txt #jj maybank prompt #trailer park!jj

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faetreides · 23 days

Text

summary: priest!leto x afab!reader x priest!paul (title from scorpio by pour vous)

cw: blasphemy if i’m being so real, spit roasting, reader is lowkey losing it but they’ll be okay, dubcon, pwp-ish (there’s set up but it’s not that long imo), mention of paul being into predator/prey, daddy kink coded without the actual daddy kink, horror elements, unreliable narrator vibes, mention of them being willing to non con reader if things didn’t go their way, no incest between leto & paul 💀, reader’s their sad loser turned attic spouse, mention of eventual impreg, implied soft dom!leto & mean dom!paul, religious practice inaccuracies, possibly predictable plot twists, implied painful anal but reader’s too out of it to feel it, implied natural aphrodisiac in their spit, reader bleeds

wc: 2.5k

block & move on if uncomfortable,

do not translate/repost/give my works to ai

please consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip !!

You’ve been feeling… lost. The trees keep secrets from you and the clouds mix together like egg whites. You wish you knew what kind of pill you need to be on, you wish you knew what was wrong with you. You’re paranoid and seeing blank eyes watching you through the brick and mortar of your apartment. Your skin burns hotter than hell and sometimes you think that there are claws grabbing at your ankles when you sleep.

Church hasn’t been something you’ve bothered to attend since you were a kid, but you yearn for it now.

You pull your tattered coat around yourself as you step into the ancient building. The Church of Caladan is the oldest church in the country, if not the world. You hope you don’t look silly when you take caution with how hard your feet hit the stone. ‘You break it, you buy it’ must apply to old churches too.

Your unease rolls off you in waves, and a couple nearby priests seem to sense it in the same way that horses can sense fear. For a second you imagine bursting into flames, but there are hands groping your flesh through the great hellfire.

They’re about even in height, though one is clearly older. The gray hair weaved into his temples suits him more than it shows his age. The younger man has the same dark and wavy hair, but his gaze is a touch more haggard and rife with burden.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have burst in here…. I'm just looking around.” You rush to explain so they would go away, internally cringing at yourself.

“No, we want newcomers to feel comfortable enough to ask questions. I’m Leto,” He says and shakes your hand. “And this is my son, Paul. He’s recently started working here at the church with me.”

Paul steps up to shake your head as well, his mouth doesn’t move but you swear that the corners twitch. The stained glass windows cast a multicolored hue on his eyes and you find yourself lost in the swirling pools of light. Then black holes swallow the brightness in the irises, cosmic cannibalism.

You blink in alarm and awkwardly take a step back from the two priests. Father and son share a look between them that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing them.

Leto clears his throat and pointedly grabs your hands in both of his, encapsulating them in his warmth.

“You’ll have to forgive him, Paul’s never dealt with a lamb as darling as you before. He’s never dealt with one at all actually, you two can go through this together.”

Paul smiles but it fits all wrong, with teeth that should be fangs and with a tongue that appears forked. You blink again and all is well, the man before you fits his human skin like a glove. Maybe you should give them the benefit of the doubt, you’re convinced you’re going crazy anyway and Priests would never be capable of hurting someone. Ghosts aren’t real and Demons are just a crazed mother’s bedtime story.

“Um, okay. Thank you for accepting me.” That’s all you want, deep down, and they know that. “I felt moved to be here, I can’t explain it.”

Leto nods and Paul rubs your shoulder in sympathy. They would hiss that they know full well what called you here, but you might bleat and scurry away. You make a sad picture, abandoned and half insane, but that’s what they are for. To soothe and to serve you, to purify you from the inside out.

“Then all the more reason to stay and sit for a moment, don’t you think?” Paul finally speaks, the boyish tone surprising you.

“Paul’s right, let’s get this jacket off you, poor lamb. You must be freezing to death.” Leto coos, shushing your protests and carefully pulling the cheap thing off of you.

They take you on a little tour of sorts, pointing out the architectural details of the building itself as well as passionately delving into its history. Centuries of worship and service to the community, strangely never having sustained any kind of property damage. The priests speak of the church as if they were wandering through the halls all this time, and they chuckle when they tease you about how relieved they were that you didn’t suffer from a nosebleed. They’re quite common apparently.

“I think that should do it, i’d hate to think that we’ve been talking your ear off, dear.” Leto says, rubbing the inside of your wrist and directing you towards the large piano on the stage at the front of the church.

He must notice the sudden spark in your eyes at the sight, because his crow’s feet wrinkles deepen as he pulls the black piano bench out. Leto’s palm spreads out wide and he gives the leather seat a firm pat, signaling for you to sit down. Butterflies swirl in your stomach with anxiety but you feel too shy to refuse the clearly eager offer. You take a seat in front of an onyx grand piano far grander than you’re used to seeing in a church.

Leto soon occupies the space next to you. The bench is small enough that your thigh is pressing against his, warmth bleeds through your clothes and the indication of muscle really makes you wish you were alone in your room with a rose toy. You place your fingers on the pristinely polished keys and clumsily play some hodgepodge of a melody that you remember from your childhood. A mix of tchaikovsky and children's church songs.

You jump and play the wrong note when you feel thick fingers slide up your thigh. Your cheeks burn with heat but you focus on the music. Leto sighs with sugary sweet satisfaction but doesn’t move his fingers any further. He also doesn’t try to play, it’s almost like he only wants to bask in the domesticity of watching you perform. You think you hear him whisper “That’s it, who knew such a talented lamb would be gracing our doorstep?”

You get a flash of riding him on the piano, gasping into his hair chest when it breaks under the weight of your passion. Thin fingers come from behind to caress your ass as it moves, much colder than the cock you’re bouncing on. Then it fades away, and you’re back to making a fool of yourself with your little song.

Paul watches from the pulpit, eyes drinking in the way your curves expand and move as you squirm. His grip tightens on the bright wood but you’re none the wiser. You almost forget that he’s even there, something which he realizes because he strolls to stand behind you and his father. The music stops once you feel his breath on your neck and he bends down to tenderly pull your hair off of your shoulder, getting himself acquainted with the texture as he rubs his fingertips down the strands.

A distant voice calls out for Leto and he stands, smiling apologetically and thanking you for the performance. You feel adrift as you watch him walk away, reminding yourself that a man like him has other things to do than coddle you.

Paul slides a hand down your back and guides you down to the pew right up front, with a view of center stage, sitting right beside you with a wink. Once Leto returns, you spot the silver tray of communion wafers in his hands. The tray is set on the pulpit by his side.

The older man's eyes darken as he puts one in his mouth, and your brain shuts down when he snatches your face in his rough palms and kisses you sense no less. The wafer cracks as his tongue passes it into your mouth, the salty crumbs oddly making you crave something even saltier. There’s a sticky sweet sensation traveling through your body as you exchange saliva with him, your brain feels so foggy.

You break away, curling your hands into the collar of Leto’s uniform.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Your voice is small and not completely filled with disgust, you’re honestly too desperate for some form of human contact to make good decisions.

“We’re helping you, honey.” Leto purrs into the seam of your mouth, shaking his head in apparent fondness.

You’re too cute for your own good, at least they don’t have to worry about covering their tracks. Any incubus or succubus would be glad to get a hold of someone as lonely as you, but they wouldn’t love you like you deserve. You haven’t been watched by anyone as long as you’ve been watched by them. He hopes that Paul doesn’t shove his foot in his mouth and let it slip that he wished you gave them the opportunity to take you by force. His son carries a torch for a bit of predator and prey action, he likes playing with his food too much. You’re different from the scrambling mice that get torn to bits, though, you’re forever.

Plus, if you don’t get it now, he has no problems with explaining everything when you’re too weak to get up and try to run away.

Paul buries his face in your neck, spilling the vial of wine he had in his pocket down your shirt. It soaks the tank top underneath and though you try with all your might to wriggle away, the desire to resist gets brushed away under a heavy fog.

It’s nice to be touched, to be wanted after a lifetime of feeling the exact opposite. Perhaps this is why the lord guided you to his grandest home, so you could take his prophets into your body.

The black vanishes from Paul’s eyes and you sink against his chest, making out with his father as your eyes roll back into your head.

No words are uttered verbally as Paul shuffles to the side and pulls you to lie back on the pew’s cushion. Leto deprives you of his tongue and gives you a chance to breathe, which both men do with you in sync, resting their foreheads against you.

The nectar on your tongue tastes divine, little lamb, a voice whispers in your mind.

Let us give you purpose so you no longer need to roam, another begs.

You’re crying from the relief of having your mouth filled, Paul tilts your head up by your chin as he slowly slides his cock into your mouth. The ridges and bumps of what feels like piercings sends a jolt of arousal through you.

“Fuck-” He hisses and rubs your neck, watching you adjust to the stretch. “So warm-”

Leto tuts and clamps his hands around your hips, you’re already too fucked out to register sharp black claws taking care of your clothes. Leaving you bare. A shiver passes through your body as he drags his huge hand down to your pussy, being mindful not to accidentally scratch you. He intends for there to be no blood, this time, not a lot.

You gag on Paul’s length when Leto slams your hips against his pelvis, grinding not one but two large cocks against your cunt. If you were looking at his face, you’d see pitch black eyes and intimidating fangs, but all you can focus on is the hazy candle light and what must be someone playing an organ.

You catch a view of one of the stained class windows, a pair of angels cradling a lamb. It’s the only damaged part of the church, with cracks running along the angel’s wings. You’d think it’s a sneeze away from shattering entirely. Your view of it is blurred by Paul’s quick thrusts, gagging on it again. Drools drip onto the red carpet.

Leto grabs one of Paul’s curled horns and yanks his head to the side, scolding at him to be nicer to you. You’ve clearly never taken three cocks inside you, the one you’re servicing is proving to be overwhelming enough. Again, Paul’s new to this experience as well, just in a different way than you are. In a sense, it’s like he was born yesterday. The older man relays this to you through your choked moans and tears, assuring you that he’s taught Paul how to clean up his messes and be grateful. Something like this will be no different.

“Hush, beloved. I would have gladly speared your mouth but you would be dead before I could cum inside it.”

You see God in the sky when Leto slaps the tapered tip of one of his dicks against your slick entrance, God sees you when he gets the tight walls of ass to wrap around the other. Unbeknownst to you, it’s funny how so many things are, your blood pools around his balls. You’re in pain sure but you’ve never felt as much pleasure as you have in this instance. Both “Priests” smell your blood and well, only your body can tell the rest of the story. Later you’ll wake up to find that the building around you has ruby walls and it seems to be breathing. The shooting pain in your left hand is the result of two iron rings being chiseled into the bone of your ring finger.

The four leathery wings protruding from your back, with spikes poking out from the joints, are waiting to be discovered. As are the nubs sprouting out of your hair.

For now beads of sweat highlight your bouncing tits, Paul gropes one and Leto runs the edge of his claw along the side of the other. They’re hissing words that string together and disappear in the blink of an eye, voices slurred and sticky. Their babbling stops and starts again as you reflexively swallow around Paul’s cock when he skull fucks you without warning. They laugh too, but you can at least pretend that Leto’s tone is kinder.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough teasing.”

“But father-“

“I said no. And don’t think for a second that you’re getting anything else but their mouth.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You lack self control, it wouldn’t be suitable for conception to occur like this. As delectable as their quivering cunt is, demons shouldn’t abstain from courting.”

“You’re saying that as you’re balls deep inside of them.”

“Don’t start with me, Paul.”

All while you’re making gurgling sounds in between the younger priest’s thighs. You hear growls that sound like a mountain lion’s emitting from both men, and the heavy thumps of something flapping in the air gets you holes clenching around Leto. Both men feverishly scratch up and down your limp body, but you’re so enraptured by the chorus of angels happening outside. You have no sense of time, it’s minutes or it’s hours before their cum spills inside of you. There’s too much to possibly keep it all inside, a good amount of it leaks from your cunt and your throat. Leto feels like Christ incarnate when you squirt all over him and yourself with the dumbest expression on your face. Multicolored pieces of glass fall down around you with the loud chime of an invisible bell.

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icallhimjoey · 1 month

Text

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: uh-oh here we GO! the girls voted and the girls won, so here we are! the no-longer-flatmates-flatmate fic - you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Ugly. Green. Growing. With potential to do real harm. It crawled around and scoped him out, exploring his heart from all different angles, carefully tasting it.

It hadn’t bitten him yet, but Joe knew if he lost sight of it – if he stopped trying to control it – that eventually, it would. And it would hurt. It didn’t exactly feel great now, but once it’d sink its teeth in, Joe knew he’d be done for.

He remembered when it still good. Still nice. Warm. And soft. And joyous, all full of love.

It used to be kind and sweet and would make him smile until his cheeks were quite literally cramping.

But it’d changed. It’d turned bad.

He wished he could’ve seen it coming.

It was a good thing that he found he was able to easily control it with rational thought. Problem was that rational thought had the habit of abandoning him once it got dark outside and he was alone in his flat.

His new flat.

Where everything was his.

Where everything got put in places that he chose. All his things were where he wanted them, all catering towards his routine. Which was why a basket of underwear made it into a bathroom cupboard, and why a shelf got put up near the balcony door, so he had a place to keep his cigarettes and a lighter. Gone were the days of rummaging through coat pockets ‘til he found what he was looking for.

It was sort of great, Joe wasn’t going to lie, living on his own.

It didn’t look quite as nice, not quite as homey, but Joe was sure he’d soon learn what the place was missing. He didn’t worry about it. There were more important things to worry about. Like, how quick dust built up into bunnies underneath the sofa and how every time he’d open his front door, it’d waft out from underneath, only to settle in the middle of the room for everyone to see. Or how somehow he panicked so much about keeping his plants alive that he was systematically overwatering all of them.

Idiot.

It was fine.

Rational thinking.

It was all fine.

Things were different now.

Good different.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Joe joked as he let you in, pointing out the large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

His place already smellt amazing. Joe made a good roast, and had one going now, things in the oven, bubbling and simmering away.

“If I never did things I shouldn’t do, life would be very boring,” you said, laying the colourful bunch down on his island.

“Did... wait, did you actually get those for me?”

“Have you got a vase?” you were already opening cabinet doors. “You don’t, do you?”

When you didn’t get a reply, you turned to see Joe stare at the flowers. He looked a little dumbfounded.

“Joe?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you and blinked a few times. “Oh, um...” he squeezed his eyes shut a second, trying to gather his thoughts.

Took too long, you thought.

“A vase?” you repeated, trying very hard to keep a straight face, to not let the smallest inkling of a smile slip through.

“Sorry, I don’t... I don’t think I’ve got a vase.”

Why the fuck would he own a vase, Joe thought.

“I’ll get you one as a housewarming gift,” you found a pitcher. “This’ll do for now.”

There was evidence on the counter of what Joe had been in the middle of, cutting veggies, preparing the gravy. But as you filled the pitcher with water, Joe still kind of hovered in the same spot in silence. Looked at the flowers that you’d brought in and felt silly for how those made him feel.

When you placed the pitcher in the middle of the island and reached for the bouquet, you broke his trance, and Joe softly laughed at himself.

“This is... my God, this is so sweet? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before.”

“Well,” you smiled back, about to throw stones into your own windows. “I didn’t get them for you.”

“Oh?” Joe immediately felt embarrassed. Mortified. Felt the skin of his neck flush with heat.

“I got them for your flat.”

Got him.

Joe let out the breath he was holding in defeat, dropping his head and smiling. Scoffed softly at himself because you were joking, and he was an idiot.

“You know, give it some colour. Give me something nice to look at when I’m here.” you plopped the flowers into the pitcher and didn’t get the chance to make it look nice, to arrange it a little, because before you could, you got picked up by the waist and shaken about. You shriek-laughed a loud, “No!”

“Something nice to look at?” Joe pressed his face into your cheek as you squealed through your giggles.

“Am I not nice to look at, huh?” Joe squeezed extra tight before he put you down, turning you in his arms and keeping you real close.

“You’re nice to look at,” you said sweetly, still grinning widely, nose nudging up at his. “If I could put you in a vase and arrange you all nice, I would.”

Joe snorted, and you felt it on your face.

“Hmm. You’re funny.”

You got kissed by soft lips that almost felt shy to kiss you.

“Don’t get me a vase.”

And then you got kissed a little harder. Bit more firm.

“I’ll get my own.”

“No,” you objected, speaking right into his mouth. “You’ll get a stupid one with like, frosted writing on, or something. Live, love, laugh.”

You felt Joe’s smile as he kissed you harder, both arms squeezing as they wrapped around your waist tighter. You sighed into Joe’s affection and took great comfort in the fact that you were alone. You were outside of your flat, which was still wild in your opinion, but at least you were alone.

Alone was good.

Joe’d gotten into the habit of showing affection when you were around others, around strangers, and you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to it.

The first time Joe reached to hold your hand, you’d nearly had a panic attack.

It wasn’t very cold, but the wind was cutting. Hurt your forehead as you walked and made you hunch as you pulled up your shoulders to shield yourself as best you could. Joe’s hand finding yours was a welcome warmth for your cold fingers, but it still made you fall silent as you tensed up.

Joe just held on for a few steps, and looked at you. You could see him stare from your peripheral, could feel the burn of it high up in your cheeks, and tried your best to ignore it.

“You can relax.” Joe humorously said, speaking softly and leaning in a little to make sure you could hear him.

“I am relaxed.” You immediately argued, because holding hands with Joe shouldn’t be weird. It should actually be normal. You tangled up with your full bodies more days than you didn’t when you shared a flat. If anything, Joe’s touches were exactly what turned you lax, all floppy and boneless.

“S’just cold.”

“Hmm,” Joe sounded unsure, very obviously not believing you, and squeezed your fingers a couple of times. When you didn’t smile, Joe let his own drop too, and asked if you were okay.

“Fine.” You reassured, growing a little defensive. If Joe could just stop talking about it, that’d be great.

“Should I– do you want me to let go?”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, sounding a little squeaky, but you doubled down with a squeeze of your own.

Joe took it, accepted it, albeit a little unsure if maybe he’d made the wrong move here. But you’d walked along, and you held hands, and when you fell into random conversation again, holding your hand became something Joe stopped thinking about. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along yours, and at one point used his grasp to pull you in front of him when you had to share a narrow bit of pavement with oncomers.

You weren’t like Joe.

Not for a single second had you been able to be as casual about it as Joe had been.

You focussed on your hand the whole while you walked, and couldn’t help but check to see if others were looking at it. If strangers that passed you looked down at your hands. To check if they could see. If they somehow knew that you’d never done this before.

You had.

But not like this. Not outside. Not in public.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold Joe’s hand, but there was something about this new phase you were in, where Joe walked over to yours to pick you up to go out for dinner together. Where he had to ring the doorbell and ask if he could quickly come up to use the toilet before you left. Where he pretended he didn’t know where the bathroom was and made you show him the way. Where he faked being anxious when you left your flat, saying that he hoped you liked the restaurant he booked a table at. Where he nervously asked if you liked Italian food, as if you hadn’t shared a million pizzas together.

Things were different now, and although you were close, would often do everything you could to dissolve into his skin, walking hand in hand through the streets of London felt insane. Like you were moving too fast, even though you understood how silly that sounded.

You’d spent that entire walk thinking of a natural reason to let go of his hand, and Joe had felt your fingers twitch. Felt how you seemed to change you mind about it every three seconds. But, you’d said he could hold onto you, so, he simply did.

It wasn’t until you reached the restaurant and used the heavy door as an excuse to wiggle your fingers from Joe’s hand, using both of yours to pull it open.

Baby steps, Joe thought as he smirked to himself, astonished that he’d gotten to hold your hand out in public for over ten minutes.

He was sure you’d slap him away the second he even attempted to intertwine your fingers together.

Which, coincidentally, was exactly what you did the first time Joe tried to lean in for a quick peck on the lips as you said goodbye to each other outside of his flat.

You’d been out, and were both in a bit of a rush to get home. You thought that the way you’d hugged his arm for a second was plenty goodbye. You’d pressed the side of your face to his bicep and said you’d see him later.

You’d reached the point where you wanted to go cross the street as Joe would walk the other way to get to his front door, and when you tried to step away, he yanked you right back by the elbow.

The way you recoiled away from him was so extreme, it startled Joe. You almost made it look like he was about to hit you.

“Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath, and you immediately apologised. You stepped back closer to him, were about to accept a quick kiss as an apology, but let your eyes nervously dart around to see if there were other people. If there were witnesses.

Joe just looked at you, blinked a few times and then, instead of leaning in for a quick kiss, squeezed you in your side.

“Calm down. Call me when you get home.”

And you’d blushed at how Joe’d smiled at you before he turned to head inside. Your face had remained hot until you got home where you then had to take a moment to shake all the nervous jitters from your body.

It was such a weird spot to be in, Joe thought.

How he couldn’t get too close if there was the slightest chance of someone seeing, but to have you literally whine at him inbetween his sheets if he didn’t touch you in the right spot with the right pressure at the right speed.

But steps were being made in the right direction.

You each had you own place now, and Joe made a point to sometimes not see you for a few days. He kind of enjoyed getting to miss you. He liked how his stomach did flips when you’d ring his doorbell after not having been over for a few days. He liked how absence made his heart grow fonder, and how that felt healthy.

Joe assumed you felt the same way; maybe you didn’t like it as much as he did, but surely you also understood how this was at least more normal.

He never thought that what the two of you were before was toxic.

It was just... weird.

Good weird.

But this was better.

Still a little weird, he wasn’t going to lie. But better.

He got to tell you to call him when you got home now. He got to invite you over to his flat for Sunday roast now. And you would then come and bring him flowers now.

Joe had never received flowers before. Well, maybe he had. But not like this. Not from a girl who brought them just for him. Just because. He kind of loved it. Kind of loved you.

“God, you were right.” Joe said, eyes unblinking, comfortably staring.

Both satisfied and full after an early dinner, the two of you laid out on Joe’s sofa - the one that took six weeks and then two more to arrive - and both looked at the bouquet up on the kitchen island. You were tucked into his side, with one of his arms slung around your frame. You held one of his hands with both of yours and absentmindedly played with his fingers.

“I don’t know how this works but they kind of make the whole room look better.”

“They do.” You agreed, smiling, because you did that. You turned your head, tilting up to look at Joe’s face. “Please let me pick out a vase for you, though.”

Joe’s grin slowly grew as he said, “Absolutely not. Might just keep the pitcher for flowers only, I kind of like it.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “This is such a boy’s flat.”

“Well,” Joe started, raising his eyebrows, finally breaking eye-contact with the fresh bloom, tucking in his chin to look down at you. “I am a boy, so, that checks out.”

For a moment you just looked at each other, smiling, cuddled up into the corner like you always were cuddled up into the corner together. When you saw Joe flick his eyes down to your lips, you pulled the hand you were still holding closer to bite right into the skin between his index finger and thumb.

Joe pretended to flinch, but you were barely leaving marks as you smiled through the bite, big eyes looking up at him. Joe took a moment to just take you in. The way you looked at him had him biting his own lip before he tried to grab hold of one of your hands to pull into his mouth.

You were already scream-laughing and trying your best to pull your hand away before he even got close. It left you in a wrestling pile of limbs, Joe with his mouth open, growling and ready to bite at whatever got close enough. He ended up getting at bit of your sleeve in between his teeth, pinning you down into the soft seat-cushions and he felt drunk with joy.

He was so fucking happy.

Pretty girl in his flat, giggling away on his sofa, and she’d brought him flowers. It was kind of disgusting how he’d turned to goop on the inside.

Joe didn’t wait for your giggles to die out to get his lips on yours and kiss you silly.

There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was sticky and sugary sweet and Joe loved the taste it.

Loved how it bubbled over and leaked into his stomach.

Loved how it swirled into his limbs and made him reach for your hand to hold when you were walking outside.

Loved how it made him put his arm around your shoulders to pull you tightly into his side as you waited to get your coffees whilst the barista prepared them.

Loved how it grew as he took the lead on this new way of being together the way you had done before when you still lived together.

It made Joe want to introduce you to someone as his girlfriend, knowing full well that you hadn’t had that conversation yet, and that you’d likely have a melt down, but God.

It was just what he wanted to do, he couldn’t help it.

He wouldn’t.

There was a high probability that you’d actually murder him if he pulled a stunt like that.

The fact that you were kissing like this outside of your flat right now was already sort of stretching it, Joe knew.

You let Joe kiss you on his sofa for a minute. Let him slide his nose around yours with an open mouth that hovered over yours inbetween kisses. He made you work for it, having to lift up your head for more when he teased you for too long.

When you felt how Joe started readjusting his position on top of you, you knew you had to break it off.

“Hmm– Joe, no, I gotta–”

“Hm?”

“I gotta go, there’s– stop, there’s a potential flatmate coming over in a bit, I gotta– Joe!”

Joe finally broke away with an annoyed grumble leaving his throat as he did.

“Fine.”

“I can... I could always come back after?”

Joe shifted enough to let you escape the sofa.

“Hmm, you could, but I do have an early morning, so it’s probably not worth the trouble.” Joe sighed, lying back with an arm curled behind his head, watching you twist your clothes so it all sat right again.

��No?”

“I’ll probably be asleep by the time you make it back here.”

“Well,” you started, slinging your arms into your coat. “All depends on how long this is going to take. If it’s another 19-year-old trying to negotiate for a 30-70 rent split first thing, I’ll only be a second.”

“God, for your sake, I hope it’s not another student. But for my sake...” Joe made big eyes, giving you a suggestive look that broke into a smile when you laughed.

You gave Joe a last quick kiss as you bent over the sofa and told him you’d see him later, all casual.

Joe’s smile lingered as he watched you walk out.

“Call me when you get home!”

Yea... there was something living inside Joe’s chest.

And it was cuddly and fuzzy and comfortable and good...

For now.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close #explain us #reinvent love

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preeningpisces · 2 months

Text

Geto NSFW Headcanons

Im gonna try not to be biased because this is my main bitch right here 🖤

Lemme know if you want me to elaborate or write about any of these headcanons

(literally any ask about Geto will make me do somersaults—backflips, even)

18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby f!reader

Pre-Incident

꩜ Geto is interesting because before he snaps and after he snaps feel like two different vibes in regards to sex

꩜ Doting, almost like a service-dom. He likes taking care of you, but he also prefers to have control. Though not so controlling that he can’t ever be submissive

꩜ Major smooth-talker, like Gojo said, he has a silver tongue. Likes a mixture of praise and degradation. The degradation is usually teasing, and doesn’t extend past the usual slut, whore, etc. range…usually

꩜ Sometimes it comes out corny tho lmfao pls roast him when it does

꩜ Good at making you feel sexy. The type that will kiss you all over, giving extra affection to areas you aren’t as fond of. It’s difficult at first, but with time you become more comfortable

꩜ Very sensual, and intimate. He has good self-control, & is very patient so he can draw things out & drive you crazy. Like he can spend all-too-long just toying with your mouth, denying you the kiss you so desperately want. Barely brushing your lips and teeth with his thumb, before pinching your tongue between fingers. Wowee

꩜ Refuses to kiss you after absorbing curses. Even though no one else can taste them, the thought of tasting like that is enough for for him to refuse; he doesn’t want you to go through it too. Also, tasting shit-vomit in your mouth doesn’t exactly get the schlong schlinging, yknow

꩜ I suspect absorbing curses gives him an immediate surge of negative emotions, so he usually needs space. Sometimes he just wants to hold you, or be held, in silence

꩜ Can be surprisingly playful in bed

꩜ Really likes fucking you from below. Smooshing your soft breasts and stomach against him, and feeling your weight on top of him. Holding you still so he can rail you while whispering sappy, dirty shit in your ear. I’m passing out someone help

꩜ I’ve been poisoned by the perv!geto fics on here, and can’t see him as not being a secret pervert. Just slightly. It takes a while for him to reveal that side to you, since he tries to appear refined and respectable

꩜ Definitely the type that likes music in the background; I see him as someone who cares about music a lot in general. You know he likes you if he’s sharing song recs

꩜ Lots of playlists, and even has a few sex playlists with different moods. Usually prefers things that are chill, but has a few harder-hitting songs—this is why he needs the playlists, lol. He doesn’t like when the vibe changes too much

꩜ One time you sneak Cbat onto his playlist & make him laugh so much he loses his boner. At that point did you really win? Hmm?

꩜ Tbh he’s got game & is aware of it. You gotta humble him occasionally or else he becomes insufferable

Post-Incident

꩜ This Geto is a lot more self-centered, aggressive, and sadistic in bed. I wouldn’t say he’s a tyrant tho

꩜ Will legit punish you when you disobey, no funishments here. Big into humiliation

꩜ My heart is telling me shibari, especially the kind that can be hidden beneath clothes. Particular about the color, and will pick ones that flatter your skin tone. Obsessed with the way the ropes pinch and dig into your soft body. He’ll bite and squeeze the parts that spill over the ropes

꩜ One punishment would be walking around secretly tied up, but the style where one of the ropes rubs against your pussy as you walk. It sounds nice at first, but that bitch is gonna chafe for sure

꩜ He’s more selfish than before, yes, but he still maintains a proclivity for doting—we all see how he spoils his daughters! It’s like, he gets his turn first, and when it’s your turn, it's your turn. Multiple orgasm king. He’ll do it until you’re sobbing tho, so pray for your pussy

꩜ Loves making you choke on his cock—gets kind of intense with the bjs. Mfer needs to chill (and buy you some throat lozenges)

꩜ Doggystyle is his favorite without a doubt, he just wants to pin your face to the bed and watch your ass bounce

꩜ A lot of the previous stuff is still applicable to some degree, but I think he has a lot less patience at this point, and is waaaay more into degradation & domination

꩜ He gets legitimately mean sometimes lmfao it’s like you gotta have 2 safewords: one for physical intensity level, and the other for bullying level 😭

꩜ Would he sleep with a non-sorcerer? Honestly, I can’t decide. If he did tho, he would be SO FUCKING MEAN I don’t even want to think about it !!!

꩜ Does he use monkey in bed unironically?? Chat pls advise

#geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x chubby reader #jjk smut #chubby reader #divider by benkeibear #god i wrote so much for him #the favoritism is wild #dreams of geto ☁︎#headcanons ☽#geto headcanons #dreams ☽#wet dreams ☽

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thisismeracing · 11 months

Text

His protector | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!comedian!reader (she/her)

Word count: 0.4k

Genre: regular imagine + smau (overall fluff)

Warnings: not proofread; mentions of Ferrari's disastrous strategy; fluff;

Summary: Yn is a comedian, who happens to date the f1 driver Charles Leclerc and who loves to joke around about how horrendous Ferrari is, but beware: she is the only one who can laugh at her boyfriend’s disastrous races. No one pokes fun at Charles in front of her, especially not on live TV.

A/n: This request has been sitting in my inbox forever because I'm a freaking perfectionist who loved the idea but wanted to get it to be perfect. It's my first time mixing social media au and regular images, I don't know if I'll be doing it again, but I hope you guys like it! Anon who requested: thank you sm for being so patient and kind with your request, it means a lot. I hope it's a bit like you imagined it to be. Every piece I write here it’s a new experience, so your feedback, comments, and asks are more than welcome. *mwah* 🤍

A/n2: A huge shoutout to Leri ( @elitebarzal ) for helping me with this (she was the one who sent me the jokes and helped me with the story's structure). ILY, Le!

A/n3: None of these jokes are originally mine, they're all from the internet, just like all the pictures used are from Pinterest. The writing, however, is all me, and I do not consent for it to be published anywhere else!

Based on this request.

see my masterlist | check here if you want to be on my new taglist

you can support my writing by liking, reblogging, and leaving a comment

“Why did Charles Leclerc take up gardening?” Yn asks eyes focused on the main camera in the studio, ready to deliver her joke. Anthony, Yn’s colleague, and part of the Saturday Night Live cast, was already trying to hold back his laughter when she added, “Because he wanted to be in "pole" position at least once this season.”

The crowd hollered in laughter, and Anthony almost couldn’t hold his own back.

“This one got me, I gotta give it to you that this is way funnier than whatever I had for tonight,” he bantered.

“It’s a live show for a reason, right?” she winked and turned back to the camera.

Yn was dating Charles for over a year now, and he was a constant topic of her jokes, the audience, and fans were used to her always roasting him, but everyone knew it to be just part of their relationship. Yn being sassy and playful as she was would make fun of whoever she was close enough to know her jokes wouldn’t come off as offensive.

Charles loved that side of her. It was nice to have someone who would cry with you but also make you laugh and take the hardships of life with a degree of lightness.

It was race week, Yn was in the paddock and it wasn’t uncommon for some channels to call upon her for a quick interview about her thoughts on the race. She usually wouldn’t mind, she would be polite as usual, answer their questions, sometimes even tell a joke or two and then follow her path back to Charles if he was free to have her around.

This time, however, this interview seemed to stress her more than to amuse her.

“We all know he can do better-”

“Can he?!” Yn asked, brows furrowing a challenging look on her face. “With Ferrari’s current strategy, I don’t think he can.”

“Well, most people seem to think he could, and I tend to believe that maybe that’s right. It’s not always the team’s fault.”

“Eric, have you tried driving a formula one car?”

The reporter gaped, taken aback by Yn’s question, before answering, “Well, no, I’m a journalist.”

“If you’re so sure he could do better, then maybe you should go there and try driving the car. See which position you get,” she kept her instance, lips pursed in a tight line.

The reporter chuckled, trying to light the situation, but Yn didn’t, and everyone watching the live interview saw the tension in the air. Everyone got the message: nobody downplays her boyfriend in front of her. There’s a line between making fun when it’s known Charles is comfortable and openly talking about how he could do better in a sports program.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @crimeshowjunkie @iloveyou3000morgan @saintlewis @fdl305 @chaoticevilbakugo @carojasmin2204 @wondergirl101ks @smiithys

#f1 imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc #social media au f1 #f1 x reader #op: smau #millie writes #black!reader x f1 #black!reader f1 #black!reader #charles leclerc x black!reader #cl16

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

Carpe Noctem 20

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You don’t know where to go. You know you can’t go back to Lloyd’s. Not yet. You don’t want to talk about what happened. Maybe he won’t even ask or care but it would be obvious if you got back so soon.

So you drive around, listless, until you find a place to park and hide behind your steering wheel. You stay there for a while, just across the street from a hardware store. You check your empty thermos and sigh. Coffee. More coffee and you can think.

You get out and cross the street. You head up down the next block to the cafe nestled between a pawn shop and pharmacy. You get a medium roast and add a healthy dollop of cream. You sit down at a table and try to piece together your life.

You’ve lost Johnny, your apartment, and pretty much your job. What else do you have left? What are you going to tell Lloyd? He’ll be expecting some sort of rent and you’ll be lucky to get that much on your next pay.

You glance over at the counter as a puff of steam hisses from one of the machines. You bite down on the inside of your lip and leave your cup at the table. It’s not really a downgrade, but you’ll miss the kids.

“Hey, excuse me, sorry,” you speak over the lower part of the counter where you can see the baristas at work, “I was wondering if you were accepting applications.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, there’s some part-time spots open,” the man calls back, “just Google us and it will come right up.”

“Uh, duh, I should’ve thought of that,” you laugh at yourself awkwardly, “anyways, thanks.”

“Boss is here, I can see if he’s free… he does all the interviewing.”

“I, um, I’d hate to be a bother–”

“Honestly, you wouldn’t,” he brings a mocha to the counter and signals to you as he calls out a name, handing over the drink to another customer. He turns back to you, his name tag reads Peter. “We need all the help we can get.”

“Right, er, okay, I guess… I guess if he’s free.”

“Sick, I’ll go run and get him,” he spins and waves at his coworker, “Ned, I’ll be right back.”

The other employee only rolls his eyes as he takes an order at the till. You hover there, waiting, wringing your hands nervously. Peter clamours back, out of breath, cheeks rosy.

“He’s coming,” he grins broadly, “I’m Peter.”

“I know,” you nod to his name tag.

“Oh, yeah,” he looks down goofily, “you?”

You give your name and shift your weight on your feet. He grabs another receipt and an empty cup.

“You can sit down, he’ll find you.”

“Okay, thanks again,” you show your teeth sheepishly then drag your feet back to your table.

You lower yourself into the seat and stare into the cup. It’ll be something until you can get better. Or go back to the daycare. You hate to think you won’t ever see the kids again.

“Uh, hey,” a man approaches, thumbs hooked in his jean pockets, “you the one?”

You look up, slightly startled as your worries split down the seams. You open and close your mouth as you peer up at his bright blue eyes. He seems familiar.

“Y-yeah, looking for a job,” you brace the table and go to stand. He stops you as he raises his palm and sits across from you. He turns his hand and offers it to you, “Cole.”

You once more say your name as you shake his hand. He clings a little bit longer than you expect but lets you go and rests his forearm across the table. He smiles and you stare back, waiting for him to say something.

“So…” his eyes widen as he remembers why he’s there, “you make coffee before?”

“Well, sort of. I can use a french press and I used to have a nespresso…” you let your voice trails off; before Johnny broke it. “But I can learn and I have loads of customer service experience.”

“I can tell,” he taps his fingers on the table, “you have a kind face. Does that sound weird?”

“Um, no, thanks, I think,” you keep your smile in place. He’s a bit strange but not unpleasant.

“I just bought this place, you know? Lots of changes so I wanna revamp it. Get some new faces in.”

“That’s exciting. It’s very… quaint,” you glance around.

“Ah, don’t worry, I know it needs work. Actually, I think… I don’t wanna offend you but we could use a good eye around here. A woman’s touch. You think maybe you’d have some ideas for the redesign?”

“Well, I… I only worked in a daycare, so I don’t…”

“I like that,” he snaps his fingers and points at you, “alright, well, Peter can show you how to use the espresso machine and I’ll come get you to look at swatches when you’re not too busy.”

He stands, surprising you as you can only gape up at him.

“Is that it?”

“That’s it,” he looks at his watch, “gotta call ma. It’s about that time.”

He strides away, leaving you absolutely upended. That was somehow the most and least stressful interview you’ve ever had. You shake your head and hug your coffee with your hands.

“When you’re done that,” Peter calls over, “I’ll teach you how to grind beans.”

“Oh, great,” you nod and look out the window, hiding your uncertainty. It’s not forever, just for a while. Just like Lloyd. You’ll be back on your feet soon.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #series #carpe noctem #au #the club #the gray man

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 2 months

Text

It's Who We Have | Part Six

Summary: After dinner with Billy's parents, the bridge is difficult to rebuild | Word Count: 5.1k~ | Warnings: angst, family trauma, mentions of terrorism, heavy(ish) petting, billy going softie

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Lana was a little, petite woman, and yet she slammed the door so hard, it could have come off its hinges. She even thought she saw the family portrait above the fireplace wobble.

A steady, raw silence filled the air at the dinner table. Billy’s mum stared forwards at the centrepiece, with two M&S candles lit, and sighed softly, as if disappointed that she hadn’t expected such behaviour. She remembers Billy’s dad huffing as he got out his seat and wordlessly stepped through the creaky french doors, pulling a bag of tobacco out his pocket to roll himself a cigarette.

She also remembers the cracked leather of the seat cushion, how her feet didn’t touch the floor and the gnawing ache of hunger in her stomach. The passing thought that perhaps this was the only hot meal she was likely to have for a while, and it was in someone else’s house.

Billy remained quiet beside her, scraping the tongs of his fork against his plate as he tried to stab at a pre-cut piece of sausage, seemingly quite used to keeping silent after the usual outburst from his older sister.

“Come on, chick, you’re alright,” Billy’s mum smiled softly, the lines in her cheeks deepening as well as around her eyes, coaxing her to eat once again, after being rattled by the incessant shouting and blaring of Lana’s teenage rampage.

In the eyes of Mrs Washington, there was care, tinged with sadness that such behaviour had made the little girl sitting opposite her curl back into her shell, mouth sealed shut as if on instinct. And so, she chose to trust this mother’s nature, and ate slowly, grateful at least for the company of Billy beside her, non-judgemental and kind-hearted.

He and his mum were always alike in that way.

"Mummy, can we play upstairs after—" Billy began, interrupted by the ringing of the home phone. His mum rose from her seat, excusing herself to answer it.

"Just a second, love," she said, her voice warm and comforting. “Hello.”

Even her voice down the phone had that warm embracing tone of motherhood.

But all she heard on the other end was shouting she actually recognised. Her own mum, clearly in whatever addled state, her loud screaming crackling against Mrs Washington’s ear.

“Yes, she’s here- can she not finish her dinner first -” Val murmured, her back turned to both children sat at the table still, as if to shield them from the onslaught of verbal abuse, “-I understand she’s your daught- yes - yes, I’ll bring her home after she’s had her tea-”

The way the phone was placed back on the charging dock made her stomach flip with nerves. Combined with the solemn expression on Billy’s mum’s face, she heard the words before they were even spoken.

“That was your mum, darling,” she said quietly, carefully, her eyebrows arched in worry, “take your time having your tea, alright.”

And she did. She always would.

“Hiya sweetheart!” Val's voice was wobbly as she greeted her at the front door, giving her a bruising hug that pressed right against her ribs, “you're early.”

She nodded with a tight lipped smile, “thought I'd come and help with dishing up.”

“Oh, don't be silly, duck. You're our guest!”

Armed with her first cup of tea in the Washington household, it didn't take Val long to be completely overwhelmed with everything she had going on, and resorted to accepting her help anyway.

Clearly, Billy's mum had been excited for this. A notion that warmed her heart. Val had gone all out, roasted parsnips, Yorkshire puddings, roasted veg, roast and mash potato, sausages and a cut of beef. Enough to easily feed six. And she found herself biting back a smile wondering if Val had realised just how much food she'd done.

Like most mothers, this was her love language. Making sure everyone was fed.

She felt a lightness that hadn't been there for quite some time. Billy hadn't arrived yet, and she knew that the second he did, the mood would flatten, become suffocating. Like a hug that is too tight.

His arrival was made worse by the fact that he was late, and his dad didn’t miss a beat in telling him off, both of his parents already on his back in different ways the second he walked across the threshold. Shoulders slumped in depression, dragging his body around on long limbs like he was walking through honey.

Jeff had no hope of noticing the rift between them, but Val certainly did when Billy and her locked eyes across the hallway, for a moment not knowing what to say. And it likely would have stayed that way, until Billy eventually cleared his throat and let his mum take his coat, nodding.

“Alright?”

She herself had to force her voice out, “Yeah, thanks. You?”

Conversation didn't improve further than that at the dinner table, though the warm, familiar smell of roast potatoes and meat flavoured with herbs filled the intimate space, she found herself restless, sat beside Billy, with Mr and Mrs Washington opposite them.

Thank god for Val. For if she didn't try, the entire evening would be dead silent and just the sound of clinking cutlery would be enough to drive someone mad.

“How is your new flat, chick?” She asked sweetly, eyes wide and genuinely caring, “settling in alright?”

“Yes thanks, it needs the little niceties but it's a good roof over my head.”

Val nodded approvingly. "Good to hear.”

“Yeah it's about time you got your own place,” Jeff gruffed, not even looking at her to see the sinking look on her face, nor the one of his disgruntled wife.

Billy felt the awkwardness. The skirting around what his dad really meant. And he sat, picking at a stick of roasted carrot, when his dad asked the fated question, “any luck on the job front?”

She could feel herself wince. And even saw Billy tense up in her peripheral vision.

Billy sighed, pushing his chair out, “gonna go for a smoke.”

“But you're not finished with din-”

“I'll be right back, Mum,” despite his mother's protest, he slipped out the French doors, searching his pockets for a cigarette.

She watched him for a moment as Val elbowed her husband, “do you have to fucking start?”

“What? I was just asking!”

She felt the smile threaten, stabbing a honey-roasted parsnip as she listened to them bicker. But also a dull ache in her chest at Billy's retreat back into himself, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. It wasn't just the rejection from his friends; it was the sense of being ganged up on by his own parents, compounded by Lana's absence.

“How is it, love?” Val asked.

“Lovely, Mrs Washington,” she smiled kindly in return, “parsnips never disappoint.”

She'd never tire of the way Billy's mum smiled. “Well, take your time.”

She could've laughed. Some things never change.

The rest of the evening was uneventful. Jeff retired to the living room, half asleep with a belly full of Sunday dinner and god-knows-what episode of Faulty Towers on the tele. And when it was time to leave, Billy gave an ingenuine, tight-lipped smile as his mum handed him his coat, “did you drive?” she asked.

“Nah, walked. Got a mate fixing up my car.”

It was near-comical, the way Billy’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice, as if startled she’d been there listening, “do you need a lift?” she asked, pulling her bag over her shoulder, car keys bundled in one hand.

Billy’s eyes lowered slightly and then rose again to her face, not replying immediately, which made her heart race fast in her chest.

“It’s on the way so…” she hated the desperation in her voice, and tried hard to will the tone of it away. But Billy looked forward to her, a slow, gentle recognition and a reluctance in his expression, shocked she’d even offered.

“Yeah, alright.”

After a slew of friendly ‘thank yous’ and goodbye hugs, she let out a shaky breath as soon as she sat in the driver’s seat, fingers curled around the leather steering wheel as if to keep them from shaking as Billy slid into the passenger seat, spreading his long legs into the footwell once he’d adjusted his seat all the way back.

Neither said a single word for what felt like a lifetime.

As she halted at a red traffic light, the harsh glow accentuated the lines of tension etched on her face, mirroring the fading twilight. Billy broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper against the hum of the blowers set on the lowest setting.

“Thanks for the lift.”

One arm rested on the window frame, their eyes locked for a split second before the light shifted to green, “anytime.”

The silence that followed deepened the pit in her chest, making her feel antsy and nervous in equal measure. Billy wasn't faring much better, twirling his thumbs in his lap, and bouncing his left leg just to have something to do.

Pulling into the vacant spot behind Billy's battered Vauxhall, she felt a surge of apprehension mingle with the hollow pit in her chest. The engine's persistent hum seemed to mock their inability to bridge the growing chasm between them.

And he didn't move to get out the car.

Billy sighed, his fingers rubbing his temple, “How do we do this then.”

“Do what?” she countered, her voice betraying a trace of defensiveness

He gestured between them, frustration simmering beneath the surface, “This. Us,” he answered simply, his throat bobbing as if stressed.

“I don’t think that’s really a question you should be asking me, is it?”

Billy shook his head, a mirthless laugh escaping his lips. "I just don't want this anymore," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion.

Her heart clenched at his admission, the reality of their crumbling bond hitting her with devastating force. "Neither do I, Billy," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of their shared silence.

“Can we just talk,” he asked, a shaking tone invading his voice, “please?”

For a fleeting moment, she gazed out at the street through the windscreen, her eyes scanning the darkening sky. It felt as though a weighty conversation had perpetually lingered between them, and now, in this moment, it seemed inevitable.

With a simple, wordless gesture, she twisted the key in the ignition, silencing the engine's persistent hum. The abrupt cessation of sound plunged them back into the suffocating void of silence, where unspoken words hung heavy in the air like an oppressive fog.

Billy sat in the heavy silence, grappling with the weight of unspoken words. He knew he needed to apologise, to bridge the chasm that had grown between them, but the fear of looking foolish held him back.

Taking a deep breath, he shifted in his seat, his fingers drumming nervously against his thigh. He searched for the right words, ones that would convey his remorse without undermining his pride.

"I just... I want to make things right."

She was quiet, her eyes looking down at the gearstick, without the strength to look at him directly.

She shook her head, “why Billy?” she asked, “do you know how fucking heartbroken Abi was when he heard what you’d done?”

It was a mistake to glance over at him, the way her heart squeezed when she saw his head was lowered in shame, a whirlwind of emotions going off inside Billy’s head. Like he wasn’t sure what he should think for himself.

Billy's heart sank as her words pierced through him like daggers. He couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze, his shame weighing heavily upon him. Each syllable she uttered felt like a blow to his already battered conscience.

"I... I didn't mean to," he stammered, his voice tinged with remorse. "I was drunk, I wasn't thinking straight..."

His voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words to convey the depth of his regret. He knew he had hurt not just Abi, but their entire community, with his reckless actions.

Frustration bubbled in her chest as she shook her head, “being drunk isn’t an excuse. Last time I saw you, you were all ‘these people are stealing our jobs and ruining this country’ etc etc. What’s happened to that?” she countered, trying to control the steadily rising anger in her voice, “who are these people you’ve got yourself involved in? Because I know…I know this isn’t you, Billy.”

His throat constricted as her words struck him with the force of a sledgehammer. Shame burned hot in his chest, mingling with the simmering anger directed inward. He knew he had no excuse for his actions, but facing her condemnation made it all the more unbearable.

"I know," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the rush of blood in his ears. “I don't know what to believe anymore.”

For a split second, she felt the crush of his admission choke her with its oppressive weight, her throat closing up with emotion. The dread of being so utterly lonely radiating off him like a miasma. A barrage of emotions, memories, feelings threatened to overwhelm her at that very moment.

“I've not been completely innocent in this either,” she choked out, though it was difficult to say. And she knew he was looking at her, so she stared at something, anything else, to avoid the horrible feeling she was being pitied.

“I'll say it how it is, because nobody else wants to. My mum is shit, has always been, my dad is god knows where, I was impossible at school and I moved far away to uni to get away from that horrible sick feeling that everyone had seen those fucking pictures of me.”

The words tasted like venom, even to herself, at the heartbreaking predicament that was her life. She shook her head, wetting her lips nervously, “turns out running away didn't fix a single thing.”

Billy sighs, “I feel shit that I wasn't there for you.”

“We were barely adults, Billy. That's not on you.”

“Even so,” he argued, “If I had pulled my head out the ground for one second I would have seen,” he says, “you deserved better.”

She chanced it then, and glanced over at him, swallowing thickly with something weighing heavily on her shoulders. A smile tried to find its way to her face at the expression she was giving him, so, so similar to how he looked as a boy and a teenager, but with the roughened and sharp edges that defined him into adulthood.

“You know I’ve always been jealous of you.”

Billy’s eyes were tinged with confusion when she said that, the blue of his eyes barely noticeable in the low amber glow of the streetlights outside the car.

She tried to swallow whatever bubbled up, “I remember the first time I ever felt it…that first day of school.”

His lips parted, and eyebrows drew together as he looked into his lap, “please don’t-”

“No, let me speak,” she insisted, her voice tinged with pain, face clouding up with barely-contained grief, “I just-I saw you with your mum and couldn’t help it. You were so happy. So loved.”

Silence fell between them, her words strained by her strength to hold back tears hitting him to his very core. Billy remembers so clearly, he’d be embarrassed to admit. Leading her into the girls toilets and using blue tissues to wipe off the mud. Her face wet with tears. He very nearly smiled at the memory of it, and what bond was formed from that day on.

“You were the only one who ever really saw me,” she admitted, “and it made me feel that to someone I existed…and that I mattered.”

It felt painful, this bridge between them, aching to be rebuilt.

“Now it feels like I’m losing you…” she whispered, “...when I had hoped I’d given you that feeling back somewhere along the way.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the rift that had grown between them. Billy felt the ache of regret settle deep in his chest, knowing that he had failed her in more ways than he could count.

But she kept going, the words spilling out of her like she had kept them locked up for too long, and they were yearning to escape.

“So if these…right-wing, George Cross-waving twats make you feel like you matter then I have massively fucked up somewhere..”, the words nearly made a smile rise to his face, but the seriousness of the conversation made him simply just glance up at her, “..and for that I’m sorry.”

Her words cut through the tension like a knife, raw with emotion and self-recrimination. Billy's heart clenched at the pain in her voice, the weight of her apology hanging heavy in the air.

He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the space between them. "I'm sorry too," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."

She wet her lips, drawing in a needed breath to fuel the tears that were now rolling down her face, her throat feeling raw when she slid her hand into his, fingers interwoven, the foundations of that bridge feeling all the more heavy, but manageable. And for a long moment, neither said a word, but it felt easier to bask in it, knowing that it was slowly piecing together the broken bonds that had once scattered about their lives.

“Promise me,” she utters weakly, “promise me you’ll stop this, whatever you’re doing with them. Apologise to Abi, Ami, everyone…I know you’re hurting but you’re better than this.”

Her honesty was appreciated but stung all the same.

"Promise," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Her eyes searched his, hope mingling with uncertainty. Slowly, a tentative smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a glimmer of relief illuminating her tear-streaked face.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for trying."

She felt something warm shimmer pleasantly in her chest when Billy’s thumb stroked against the back of her hand, along her knuckles.

“Sorry,” attempting to lighten the mood with a weak laugh, she wiped one cheek, trying to smear the tears away to make way for relief.

Billy smiles boyishly, and there’s something light and nostalgic about it, “nothing changes,” he starts, a hint of playfulness in his voice, “you still look ugly when you cry.”

She laughs despite her tears, brushing them away gently as she responds, a softness creeping into her tone as their old connection flickers back to life. “Fuck off.”

It felt nice, laughing again, with the lingering hope that Billy desired real change.

“‘m only joking,” he murmured, leaning over the centre console, his other hand reaching out to brush her hair out her face in a motion that made her heart clench and warmth pool in her stomach, “you look beautiful.”

As soon as the words left his lips, the atmosphere in the cramped space shifted, charged with an undeniable tension. Their proximity felt electrifying, every inch of space between them tingling with unspoken desire. How many years had led to this moment they were sharing now, quiet and dark, their eyes alone communicating the depth of this impulse to inch closer?

Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them, as if words were no longer necessary in this charged atmosphere. But the tension demanded some kind of release, some acknowledgment of the emotions swirling between them.

Billy's gaze softened, his hand lingering on her cheek. "I've missed this," he confessed, voice tinged with vulnerability. "Being with you like this.”

When she wet her lips anxiously, she swore she saw his eyes flit to them briefly, her reply taking longer than usual to form, "It feels like coming home," she agreed, her voice barely a whisper.

In that moment, the weight of their shared history and the promise of a future filled with possibility hung in the air between them like a tangible force, crackling with tension. Each heartbeat echoed in the silence, a drumbeat urging them forward into the unknown.

It reminded her of that night at Cranstead Fields. She can still hear the clinking of glasses, Libby’s high-pitched drunken confessions to Abi, sat on his lap, Paddy and Harry wrestling on the grass, white shirts smudged with green as they argued about who should go and fetch the football while Ami pulled at their shirts to separate them.

But what she remembers most about that night, was the taste of WKD on Billy’s lips, the warmth that bloomed in her stomach and flipped with nerves and the flush that rose to her face when Billy had turned his face, to press his lips flush to hers and parted them with the swipe of his tongue.

And that is what she felt now, bar the taste of cheap vodka, as once again, however many years later, it was sealed with a sweet but urgent kiss.

She felt his thumbs on her cheeks, fingers threaded through her hair to pull her close to him, and just like she had that night, her hand found its way to his chest, to feel his heart thrumming beneath his skin, the material of his shirt caught in her palm. And Billy felt her eyelashes against his cheek, it was a delicate dance, a balance between desire and restraint, as they navigated the uncharted territory.

But as their lips lingered, a silent understanding passed between them, a silent agreement that this was just the beginning of their journey back to each other.

When they parted, pulling air between their now disconnected lips, all they could do was look at each other, the waves of realisation that the lines between friendship and whatever this was were rapidly blurring was heart-clenching.

“Sorry-”

She shook her head lightly, “No…it's alright, really.”

They both knew that they had just crossed a line, blurring the boundaries of their friendship in a way that couldn't be undone. But despite the awkwardness, there was also a sense of relief in finally acknowledging the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

"We should... probably talk about this," she suggested, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, we should," Billy agreed, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and longing.

And as they sat in silence, grappling with the newfound complexity of their relationship, they both knew that their friendship would never be the same again. But whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

He cleared his throat, the sound breaking the heavy silence that hung between them like a tangible barrier. “Do you wanna come in? For a cuppa?”

She felt her heart race at the invitation, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. This was familiar territory, yet everything felt different now, charged with an electric tension that crackled in the air between them.

The offer of a cup of tea seemed mundane, almost laughable given the charged atmosphere that enveloped them. But neither of them made a move to acknowledge the unspoken truth lingering beneath the surface.

"Um, yeah, sure," she managed to reply, her voice barely above a whisper. Her tongue suddenly feeling too big for her own mouth as she undid her seatbelt and followed awkwardly behind him as he unlocked the street-level door and lingered behind once they ascended the stairs to his flat.

His flat had changed little from the last time she'd seen it, albeit the clothes were put away. The kettle remained untouched, forgotten amidst the unspoken desires that pulsed between them like a current.

Every breath felt like a struggle, the air charged with a palpable longing that neither of them dared to voice. But for now, they remained frozen in place, suspended in a silent dance of desire and hesitation. She felt so small, standing in his lounge, that when she glanced up and saw Billy leaning against the doorframe, near-filling any void space of it, hands tucked in his pockets.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "I don't want to ignore what just happened between us. It's... it's different now, isn't it?"

She nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "Yeah, it is. I mean, we've been friends for so long, but..." Her voice trailed off, the weight of their unspoken desires hanging heavy in the air.

"But things have changed," he finished for her, his voice barely above a whisper.

They both knew that there was no going back to the way things were before. Their friendship had evolved into something deeper, something more complex and fragile than either of them had ever anticipated. She felt her heart flutter sickly in her chest, the same way it had the last time they had kissed all those years ago.

"I don't want to ruin what we have," she said softly, her voice tinged with fear.

"Me neither," he agreed.

There was a long pause as they both grappled with the magnitude of what they were feeling. They had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, and now they had to figure out how to navigate this new terrain together.

"But I can't ignore the way I feel," he admitted, his voice trembling with emotion.

Her heart skipped a beat at his confession, her own feelings laid bare in the raw vulnerability of the moment.

And as they stood there in the quiet of his living room, their eyes locked in a silent understanding. The tension growing thick the longer they remained this way, and her heart lurching into his chest when Billy pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room to her in a few strides alone. So close, she could smell his fabric softener.

“I'm sorry I just can't,” he added swiftly, closing the space as she parted her lips to reply.

And just let go.

His fingers curled around her waist tightly, lips clumsily crashing together with desperation, years and years of denial, of longing, of sheer stubbornness, pouring out of each of them in crashing waves.

For a moment, she felt as if she didn't know whether she should touch him, hold onto him by his shoulders, and very much felt like he knew what he'd wanted to do much, much sooner than she had.

But the moment he pulled their hips flush, chests brushing, and her fingers slid up the nape of his neck to grasp the hair that touched his neck, it had felt right. The short, unshaven hair at his jaw scratched perfectly against her fingertips, and tickled her face the more he moved to capture her lips again.

His touch ignited a fire within her, sending shivers down her spine as she surrendered herself to the intoxicating whirlwind of desire. With every brush of his lips, she felt herself unravelling, melting into him with an urgency that bordered on desperation.

In that moment, there were no words, no thoughts, only the raw, primal need that consumed them both. And as they finally succumbed to the passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long, they knew that there was no turning back.

Her heart twisted in excitement as his hands made their way north, sliding up her sides beneath her shirt, thumbs drifting over her ribs to touch her in places she had secretly hoped he always would.

And she couldn't help the cringeworthy slip of his name as he grunted breathily into her mouth, his palms moulding her breasts through the frustrating layer of her bra, but pleased at the way her body reacted to it.

“Billy -”

How many years had he wanted to hear that?

She allowed herself the briefest touch of his skin, her fingers against his flesh made him tremble, and she saw the rush of feelings rise to his cheeks as he swallowed whatever he was thinking by pressing his lips fervently to hers instead.

The mere thought of being pressed close to her like this would usually have his body responding in tandem. But now, as his own hand paused at the waistband of her jeans, barely dipping beneath her underwear, he sighed to himself, embarrassed somewhat, and sorely regretted downing three cans of beer in two hours earlier in the evening when his body didn't reciprocate how his mind felt about her.

His forehead rested against the crook of her neck, hot breath batting against her collarbone. The pull of wanting to touch her like this, to just do it and make her feel every bit the way she deserved, was all-consuming.

But after a few empty seconds, he peeled his fingers away from the waistband of her jeans.

“Fuck- sorry…” he managed, out of breath, apologising for what felt like the millionth time that night, “can't…I've had too much to drink-”

“It's okay,” she smiled, the heat on her face feeling tight against the rise of her lips. She gave him a reassuring smile as she righted her clothes, still feeling the burning mark of his hands where they'd touched her bare skin. And as ashamed as she was to say it, the warm pooling of desire tugging at her belly.

“It's late, I should-”

“Yeah, yeah…” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

She deflated once she saw the alerts pop up on her screen, “fuck- road’s closed. Gonna take me ages to drive home.”

While she scrolled, agitation growing at the idea of being stuck in her car for another hour, Billy eventually spoke, “stay here for the night,” he said, it came out more of a desperate plea than an offer at first.

He quickly shook his head of a trance when he saw her face, “U-uh, I mean, no funny business, you have the bed, I can have the sofa-”

“I couldn't ask that of you, Billy.”

“Well, you're not asking, I'm - offering,” he smiled boyishly, in a way that made it difficult to refuse.

She sighed through her nose, “I've got to go into Central London tomorrow.”

“Well…” he sighed, rubbing his palms nervously against his thighs, “I was supposed to meet the lads at Farringdon Tube Station tomorrow, I'll take you down - get you into London and…I'll break things off with them. For Good.”

Swallowing nervously, she met his gaze, her eyes pleading for reassurance. "Promise," he urged, his baby blue eyes wide with sincerity, pleading with her to believe him.

She hesitated, uncertainty clouding her features as she searched his face for any hint of doubt. She clicked off her phone and nodded, with a hopeful smile, “Okay.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires-deactivated20 @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

#billy washington x oc #billy washington x y/n #billy washington fanfic #billy washington #trigger point series #trigger point itv #trigger point fanfic #billy washington x reader #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington x fem!reader #billy washington x you #billy washington smut #billy washington trigger point #trigger point billy washington #billy washington angst #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters

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silassinclair · 2 months

Note

Hello there! So this is my first time requesting since i just started following you. So let me tell you, your Yandere Wild West Outlaw got me absolutley smitten and obsessed! i love your writing so much!!

Anyway back to the main subject and on with the request.

What about Maddox with an EXTRA Sassy darling. Like, full of and fluent on sarcasm (the kind that makes you go: DAAAAMN). The darlin' has a sharp tongue and retorts for any kind of bad words might be thrown towards her (and maybe, way later in the relationship, towards Maddox too). From really polite f-u's to tge sthraightfoward ones, she can reply and roast anyone.

Oh and a bonus head cannon (a little something that came to mind) after reading about the wedding rings. I can totally imagine the darling going from questioning about where Maddox "buys" all the weird gifts to just becoming immune, later in the relationship. Let's say Maddox comes back (to the temporary) home with a very strange object, like A very expensive porcelain/china vase and the darling just goes: "oh thank you. Please put it on the table. I'll be done with the soup and then take care of it"

Yea anyway i'll stop rambling now.

Sorry for the bad english. It's not my first language and it is past midnight here.

Have a great day/night ✨

We love sassy girlboss Y/n’s here. Thank you for submitting this request anon!! Hope it is to your liking <3

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Sassy Reader

CW// Y/n is a bully, Maddox gets his ego hurt, Maddox gets angry, Maddox is dumb

Masterlist

Maddox immediately knew that you were a spitfire when he first had a conversation with you. You weren’t the typical damsel in distress who when captured by the evil outlaw you’re forced into submission.

Oh no. There’s not a drop of submission in your body.

Maddox thought you would be useful to have around. You’d be his own personal maid! Maybe even like a housewife. But no…

“Clean my laundry if ya’ wanna live to see anotha’ day.”

“Alright alright, calm your tits. What should I clean first? The shirt with sweat marinated into the fabric or the undies with shit stains?”

“THERE AIN’T ANY SHIT ON MY UNDIES MISSY! IT’S DIRT!”

You’re a total pain in the ass. Whenever he tried to act cool or intimidating you’d immediately shoot it down with your words.

He hates it when you ruin his moment in front of other people.

He got really pissed after you made a jab at him in the middle of a duel.

“It’s just you an’ me boy. But we both know who’ll be standin’ by the end of this.”

“Hopefully it isn’t you.”

“SHUT UP Y/N! GET YOUR TUSH BACK INSIDE, I’M TRYNA’ HAVE A DUEL!”

Punishes you by tying you up and leaving you outside for the night.

He ignores your complaints about coyotes or rattlesnakes. He needs you to shut your mouth and give him some peace.

After that night of punishment though he noticed how you wouldn’t really talk to him often.

“Go shine my boots. And I don’t wanna hear a single complaint outta ya’.”

“Okay.”

“…”

Okaay so he fucked up.

The days drag on so slow without your quips and jabs! He never realized how funny the things you said are now that you’re gone.

Well you’re not gone, just more closed off now. But you may as well be gone. This isn’t like you at all to be so quiet and reclusive!

Maybe he was too rough in you? He did kill your Father and force you to be his housewife maid.

So doing what he does worst, he apologizes.

“Hey, ‘bout that one time I left ya’ outside. I realize that was silly of me cus ya’ coulda gotten eaten. So that was my bad.”

“So you’re sorry?”

“Yeah.”

He’s brushing Jasper’s fur, telling the horse how good he is. Cleaning Jasper is the only chore Maddox likes to do himself.

You’re sitting on a tree stump watching the man talk to his horse.

“You know Jasper’s a horse right?”

“Oh really? I thought he was a dog.”

The small smirk on your face after his little quip made Maddox feel like a million bucks.

That’s when he learned that he likes seeing you happy.

After the “Marriage”: (Read about it Here)

“Uhm what’s all this?” You ask your unofficial husband.

“This-”

He puts a brown sack down on the table. The sound of the contents inside clang together as he dumps it all out. A dozen chipped fine china plates come out.

“Is how we make our house a home sweetness. I hear housewives go crazy over fancy dishes n’ shit.”

Maddox stands there with a proud grin underneath his masked face. (He still hasn’t showed you his face yet btw.) He was like a dog showing his owner how good he is at retrieving sticks when playing fetch.

You look at him with an unimpressed quirk of your brow. “And where did you happen to come across such fine china may I ask?”

He shrugs and comes around the table to wrap his arms around you from behind.

“A buddy gave em to me.” His deep voice reverberates in your ear.

“Did you hold your so called buddy at gunpoint?”

“Would you be mad if I said yes?”

You groan and shakes your head back and forth. “Maddox you know you can’t just go around taking people’s stuff! Now the sheriff was probably alerted and is looking for you now. And why did you steal a bunch of plates!? Jasper can’t carry all this shit! We should only have what is necessary for survival you brute. Are you even listening to me!?”

But he only looks at you with lovesick eyes as you complain about how stupid he is.

“Princess did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you’re mad at me?” His hands go lower down your waist.

Rolling your eyes you smack his hands and leave his embrace, leaving him standing by himself like a kicked puppy.

“I have a meal to make so set the table with those plates you got. And no more stealing people’s things!”

“Yes ma’am.”

I appreciate all the requests that come in!! But I just want to remind all of you about my rules and that I do NOT write Y/n as a specific race. My writing is for everybody to enjoy!! She’s race ambiguous. Many people request that I write a Black Y/n but I’m not black so I won’t be doing that. If I write for a specific race then I feel like I’d just be stereotyping what black people are supposed to act like. So please don’t ask me to write for a Y/n that is a specific race. Thank you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #obsession #western #cowboy #maddox graves

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written-in-flowers · 24 days

Text

The Drifter: The Sea King's Curse (1.02a)

Pairing: siren!hyunjin x fem!reader

Word Count: 59k

Genre: fantasy, smut, fluff, adventure

Summary: When the corpses of mutilated mermaids wash up on shore, the lawmen of Levanter Bay seek YN's help to find the cause. They end up discovering this goes much farther than expected.

Tags: Graphic violence (just fist fighting and monster slaying), kidnapping, animal death (hunting out of necessity), graphic descriptions of corpses, death, autopsies, thalassophobia, fear of deep water, megalophobia (fear of large objects), sea monsters, mind control, mind manipulation, mental illness, dark magic, mentions of war, slight ptsd. vaginal fingering, p in v sex, monster fucking, bigdick!hyunjin. underwater sex, public sex, outdoor sex, monster dick

Part 1 < | > Part 3

Drifter Masterlist

***

The whale stopped right outside where you’d met Hyunjin that morning, and you lamented leaving him. You knew you’d see him again, but leaving him this moment left you empty inside. People told you sirens give that effect, so you tried not thinking too much as you swam away from him. You forced yourself to focus on whether Minho and Han had any luck with their part of the investigation.

“More than enough luck!”

Han called as you and Chan arrived back at the station. He sat at his desk, leaning back with his feet on the top and a satisfied grin on his face. You gaped at his broken lip, and the black and yellow bruise on his temple. On his left hand, you saw a bandage wrapped around his palm, bloody in the middle.

“Jisung!” Chan gasped, moving over to check his bruises. “What the hell happened?”

“Got into a bar fight,” he shrugged, playing it cool. “It’s no big deal.”

Chan gingerly lifted his bandaged hand, “What happened to your hand?”

“Park Jinyoung, that’s what,” he grimaced when Chan turned his hand palm upwards. “He put a knife to me, and I had to get him off somehow.”

“With your hand?”

“It worked! I put a bullet in his leg, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He still got away.”

That was when you saw them. A young man and woman sat in one of the holding cells, the enchanted purple bars keeping the woman from teleporting out. The young man had the wide, long ears and black eyes of a goblin, while the woman appeared human. The goblin noticed you first, his reaction not much different from other criminals who see you. He backed up into the wall attached to the bench, pushing back as if he might melt into the stone. His sudden jolt startled his companion, and she turned to see you as well. She didn’t back away, but her eyes did widen.

“Jennie and Eric, right?” you asked, walking past Han and Chan to the cell. Eric crouched into the corner, but Jennie kept her gaze on yours. “The mage and the accomplice.”

“So the squirrel wasn’t lying when he said they knew a demon bounty hunter,” Jennie drawled, seeing your exposed markings. “Plan on roasting us, demon?”

“Not right away,” you leaned against the side of the door, arms crossed. “I’m going to take a stab and guess the deputies already questioned you?”

“They tried,” she sniffed.

“We don’t know anything about Alcina!” Eric squeaked, eyes squeezed shut. “I swear, we don’t know anything about her! Not at all!”

“Eric!” Jennie hissed, kicking at him.

“Alcina, huh?” you let the name rest out in the air, “Where did you meet her?”

“I’m not talking, demon,” Jennie spat, arms crossed. “Save your breath. You’re going to need it when Jinyoung comes for me.”

“What makes you think he’s coming?”

“We’re his crewmates,” she shot at you. “He needs us. We need him.”

“Does he?” you raised an eyebrow, “He can pick up any pair of misfits off Cortuga and sail off without a second thought about either of you.”

“He’d never do that!” she said angrily, frustration bubbling inside her. “He…He isn’t that kind of captain…” she looked away from you, biting her trembling lower lip.

“Alright, sure. I honestly can’t wait for him to get here,” you then bent and whispered to her, “Then I can cook him alive myself.”

“Demon filth…” she grumbled through her teeth. “You’ll see soon enough. You’ll all see!”

“And I’m terrified,” you seethed.

You turned to see Minho back at his desk. He did not leave the fight unscathed. You caught the busted blood vessel in his right eye. It was most likely caused by whatever object left a cut underneath the eyelid and purple and black around his eye. Another cut on his left cheek told you his attacker got in close before he blasted them away. He placed a large book on his desk, and opened it.

“Alcina?” you walked over to him, grabbing a chair to sit on the other side. “Does that name ring a bell for you?”

“No, but I’m assuming it’s the person they’re working for,” Minho said, “Unless you two find something to contradict her?”

You told Minho everything you learned while Chan rewrapped Han’s injured hand. He froze up when you detailed Tytos’s condition, and mentioned The Creator.

“That’s not Brain Fog,” Minho said when you finished. “Brain Fog might make you forgetful and dazed, but it doesn’t debilitate you at the same time. You say he looked thin and frail. In what way?”

You thought about it, “In a deathly way. It was as if the curse was slowly killing him at the same time. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in days, his hair was brittle and thinning and his dry lips were cracked. Yet, when I mentioned his eldest son died, he seemed to break out of his delusion for a second before Mizu put him back under somehow.”

“How? Did you see what he did?”

“He touched the middle of his forehead,” you showed him the thumb motion Mizu had done, “And left behind some kind of black powder. Does that sound like any spell or curse you know? None of the ones I remember require that sort of touch.”

“There are a few,” he rolled his chair to the bookshelf a few feet from his desk and scanned the shelves, “Brain Fog doesn’t require any sort of physical touch. You said you’d seen this in the war?”

“Yes,” you watched him pick out one of the black leather books and came to the desk, “The mage who removed it used a stone. Yejin thinks it might’ve been a black tourmaline.”

“Yes!” he cheered reading the cover of the book, “Demonic Curses of the Dark Age! I knew I had it somewhere. I bought it at a sale in Newport. The warlock selling it says it was written by a real demon who was put to death for writing down their secrets!” He brought the book back to the desk, and opened it. “There’s a chapter in here somewhere,” he scanned the first page, “About manipulation curses. It has everything from elemental manipulation to molecular manipulation to zoological manipulation! I devoured this book in days! There’s so much!”

“Okay, Minho, that’s great,” you said, amused by his eagerness, “But does it have anything about mind manipulation?”

“It might…” he then asked, “You said the mage used a stone?”

“He did,” you nodded, “He said some sort of incantation while he did it, and the curse was gone.”

“Hmm…” he flipped another page, “Black tourmaline is a good stone for battling negative energy and psychic attacks. It’s regularly used for sapping out a curse.”

“What do you do after you have it in there?” asked Han, who winced when Chan closed the bandage.

“You usually melt or break the crystal,” Minho said. “A lot of fairies study alchemy so they can dispose of dark matter easier.”

“And I’m going to guess you’re one of those fairies?” he grinned humorously.

“I am,” he nodded. “We only need to find the right incantation.”

You shut your eyes as the day slowly broke down on you. “As fun as reading books late at night can be,” you yawned, slumping against the chair, “I think my brain is ready to shut off.”

“Not surprised,” he said, “Swimming around Hydrus will do that to you. You two get some rest. We won’t be finding our answer tonight.”

“You sure you want to walk to The Pearl like that?” asked Han when he saw you stand from your chair.

“Yes, why?” You then realized why Minho tried so hard not to look at you and why Han could not stop looking at you.

You’d gone into Hydrus in just your bra and pants.

“Oh, so Chan can walk around shirtless and nobody cares, but if I walk around with a bra on, it’s suddenly a problem?”

“Nobody said Chan can walk around shirtless,” Minho said, still focused on his book, “He just does it and we accept it.”

“You’ll get no complaints from me,” Han said breathlessly.

“Jisung,” Minho snapped, something similar to jealousy in his voice.

“Oh Minnie, you know I only have eyes for you,” he batted his lashes and blew a kiss.

“Ugh,” you groaned and made for the door, “It’s not a big deal. Wearing my shirt and jacket would have weighed me down. It’s not much different from swimming suits.”

Han stifled a laugh, “Which can be just as deadly on a woman like you.”

“Oh hush.”

“Men are the worst,” Jennie said from her cell.

“They are!”

You left the station without another word, walking out into town. Yes, you did get a lot of stares as you walked up to the White Pearl. Though, something told you it was your markings and not the lack of a shirt that caught stares. Honestly, you felt too tired to really care. Muscles aching from the constant swimming around in the ocean, you thought only about peeling off your damp clothes and crashing onto your bed. Moving through the crowded inn, you saw Felix singing up on stage. The pretty blond winked at you when you met his eyes, and you’ll admit you found him charming.

Not as charming as the bed waiting upstairs.

****

“I believe they are unto us, Creator. The mainlander lover and the old fool were alone with him.”

“Have they undone our work?”

“Of course not, but…one of my guards said his shark sensed somebody else in the room with us. I believe it was her half-breed son hiding in plain sight.”

“Then you must get rid of him. Our spell is almost complete. In a few days, King Tytos will die and the Seven Seas will be ours.”

“Of course, Creator. I will have my best men on it. We will kill that mainlander and whoever else stands in our way.”

The Creator remained silent in her orb, and Mizu sensed she was searching in “the beyond”. He noticed her gasp, and hesitated. “No…this cannot be. It must not be true.”

“Creator?”

“I see eternal fire within the waves,” she said. “I see…Oh, I can feel her powers now.”

“Whose powers, Creator?”

“The Vanquisher…The demon who slayed The Dark Lord…She is here…” her voice suddenly sharpened, “You must stop her! She cannot succeed!”

“The Vanquisher?”

“The Vanquisher!” she hissed. “The fire demon named Multak, who slew our master in Incheon and sent him into The Abyss! Our mortal enemy! She will foil our plans if we do not stop her!”

“What would you have me do?”

“Distract her. Keep her busy with your pirate friends while I work my magic. It appears we will have to speed up the process.”

“As you command, Creator.”

****

“How was your adventure under the sea?”

Changbin passed your breakfast plate to you on the bartop, and refilled your milk cup. You licked your lips at the steaming eggs, bacon, grits and biscuit on your plate.

“Great,” you answered, digging into the eggs right away. You hadn’t noticed your hunger until you’d woken up this morning with your stomach growling. The fluffy eggs melted in your mouth and you thought you’d melt with them, “Met a pretty siren, saw some fish, and got to ride a whale. Very eventful.”

“A siren, huh?” he asked with an impressed grin. “Did you get lucky?”

“Unfortunately not,” you frowned, thinking of handsome Hyunjin’s pretty mouth. “I was there on business, so there wasn’t much room for pleasure.”

“Shame,” he said. “When you came in here without a shirt, I was hoping to hear a wilder story than that.”

“Well, I did get to sneak into a palace, so it wasn’t totally uneventful.”

Changbin chortled, and you started telling him about your journey when a high cry broke through the morning crowd outside. You chased your food with the milk as you peered into the windows. People rushed down the dirt road, fear in their eyes and adrenaline pushing them forward. They ran into nearby buildings, calling to those inside, and shutting doors and windows tightly. Dread filled your bones, and you suddenly didn’t feel hungry. Changbin, however, knew exactly what was happening.

“Wooyoung!” he called into the kitchen, “Pirates!” He then reached under from the bar and retrieved a double sided axe. From the notches on the wooden handle, it’d been used plenty of times. “YN, either get your steel or go upstairs.”

“Pirates?”

You slowly stood from your stool, and went to the window. A group of children ran into the inn, going right behind the bar. You heard Changbin direct them into the kitchen, while he whistled for Honey. Their calls came from far away, but their taunts and laughter stuck in your ears. He sent them. Whether to scare you or kill you, Mizu sent these pirates to you. While a twinge of fear did hit you, Zunar’s words whispered in your ear.

“That’s the only time we can be brave, little flame.”

You went to grab your sword.

When you returned, Changbin and Wooyoung already ran outside. While most of the citizens of Levanter Bay hid, a select few met the invaders: Fred Pebbles with a large club and his men shooting from behind wagons and crates; Han and Minho standing atop a nearby building, taking shots with bullets and magic arrows; Changbin with his ax and bear companion: Wooyoung with twin daggers and swift kicks, and even Mayor Wallace with a heavy hammer. The smell of blood and battle hit your senses, fueling you for the fight as you went up to the porch railing.

One of Pebbles’s farmhands stood fighting a particularly nasty looking pirate goblin, so you jumped behind the goblin with a swift kick. Once on the ground, the farmhand slammed her hammer into their skull. Your eyes scanned the invading pirates, daring one of them to come at you. One of them finally did. A bearded man with gunpowder smeared over his eyes came at you with a hatchet raised in the air, and you moved to block it easily. Your hand burning bright, you shot a fireball right into his abdomen. He cried in pain, and you kicked him away to fend off another pirate who ran up to your side. A slash up their middle had them crashing to the floor, while you shot another fireball at the bearded pirate.

Effectively being burned alive sent the bearded back stumbling and running into a group of pirates, who moved out of his way. A woman’s cry caught you through the commotion, and you saw two men break into a boutique and start ransacking the place. You narrowed your eyes and rushed at them from behind. Levitating one into the ceiling and then slamming him to the floor, you swing your sword at his companion right as he reached for a small girl. He turned around, pain shooting up his back, to swipe a knife at you, which you returned with another fireball to his face. Your demon fire seared his skin, making him scream with pain.

“Get somewhere safe,” you told the women inside, “And barricade the door.” When they froze with fear, you said more firmly, “Go! Now!”

You stuck the screaming pirate with your blade, then kicked him off. When you stepped out the door, you waved your hand over the doorway where black clouds of smoke started embedding into the wood. The protection spell would keep any other pirates from breaking in. You’d stopped a pirate from attacking an elderly woman inside her stall when you saw him.

Chan’s merfolk genes appeared to make him faster and tougher than a normal human. You watched him throw punches, dodge kicks and hands with precision and speed. You saw the weapon in his hand: a long dagger with a bone handle. Fearless, daring, and strong, you couldn’t help admiring him as you easily cut down a reptilian pirate. It’d been when he cut through another pirate that a voice rang out through the fray.

“Where’s the demon called Multak?!”

A tall, tanned man with a small face and a square jaw came through the crowd. People around you gasped when they realized he held Mayor Wallace at gunpoint. You could tell the mayor put on a brave face even with a gun barrel in his stomach. A woman with copper skin and braided coarse hair ran out of a nearby shop, tears in her dark eyes.

“Gerald!” Mrs. Wallace, the school teacher, cried out. She tried going to him, but Fred kept her at a distance.

“I’m alright, Barbara,” he called out, not daring to look at her.

“Let him go, Park,” Chan said, the fight having stopped with the captain walking onto the scene. “He’s not a part of this.”

“He is,” the captain cackled, “He is until you hand me back my first mate and bring me the demon.”

“I can’t do that, Park,” Chan replied, “She’s headed for the capital. It’d be awkward if they came for her and she wasn’t here, you know?”

“Stop playing games, and give me Jennie, you half-breed.”

“Call me that again, pirate,” Chan let the last word hiss like a curse, “And you’ll get your first mate alright.”

You knew exactly how this would go if you didn’t step up. “You want me, pirate?” you stepped out from the crowd, putting yourself between Chan and Jinyoung. Removing your jacket, your markings began faintly glowing their red-orange colors. “Here I am.”

“You’re the demon?” he huffed. “I thought you’d be taller and more…manly.”

“I thought you’d be manlier too,” you shot back. “Mizu sent you for me, and here I am. Let the mayor go.”

“Bring me Jennie,” he demanded, “Then I’ll think about giving your wimpy mayor back.”

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Park,” you said. “I’m already going to have a big day ahead of me, and I’d like to go back inside this inn and finish my breakfast at least. Wooyoung puts cream in the eggs? It makes them melt in your mouth.”

“Then you’ll have no problem handing over my Jennie.”

His Jennie? “I’m sorry, that’s not possible. You see, your first mate and her little goblin friend have information we need and, well, she just hasn’t given us what we want. We can give her back to you in between 365 to 730 business days.”

“I’m done fucking around, demon!” he shouted angrily. “Give me my Jennie!”

“Your Jennie, huh? Alright, I’ll go get her right now.”

You turned around, eyes following you as you marched into the station behind you. He wanted to play this game? Then you’d play it too. Walking over to the enchanted holding cell, Jennie stood confidently and smiling smugly.

“I told you he’d come for me, didn’t I?” she taunted, not scared by the anger flaring in your eyes. “He’s come for me and he’s going to burn your-Hey! Let go of me!”

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, you dragged the mage out of the cell, across the station, and outside. “You want her, huh?” you asked Jinyoung, keeping a firm grip on Jennie. “Here she is! Come and get her.”

“No, bring her here!”

You sneered, “Alright.”

“YN, what are you doing?” Chan whispered at you, but you ignored him.

Jennie’s feet stumbled as you guided her over to her lover. You spotted the satisfaction in Jinyoung’s eyes, and it enraged you further. You threw Jennie onto the ground beside him, then spoke.

“There she is,” you said, a growl in the back of your throat. “Let the mayor go.”

Jinyoung gave you a wicked grin. You had mere seconds. Reaching out to the gun on Mayor Wallace’s side, the heat from your hand immediately shocked Jinyoung’s body. A handprint similar to a branding covered his gun hand, which opened and dropped the gun to the floor. The mayor rushed to his wife nearby, but you kept your eyes on the pirate.

“Damnit!” he seethed, holding his shaking hand. The mark you left started steaming, burning the skin there further. “Damnit, damnit, dammit! You damn dirty demon!”

“Stop your howling,” you said. You grabbed him by a tuft of hair and growled, “I could’ve sent you to demons who’d do way worse than that.” You then asked, “Who is Alcina?”

“Who-o?”

“Alcina, the witch who cursed the king. Who is she?”

“Who?”

“‘Who, who, who’, are you a fucking owl?” You placed your hand on his shoulder, burning him once more. “Who is she? Tell me who she is or I’ll roast you alive!”

“I won’t tell you shit, demon!”

You touched him one more time, and you saw tears in his eyes. Jennie, who’d boasted about his love for her, did not move to protect or save her “lover”.

‘They know nothing of loyalty. They turn on each other the moment the world starts crumbling.’

Nor’goth may have a point there.

A gentle hand touched your arm, and Chan’s voice drowned out Nor’goth’s. “YN, don’t do this here. Everyone is watching.”

You suddenly became aware of everyone still in the square. He was right. Not here where children and soft-hearted folks could see. A flush of embarrassment and worry came over you when your fires faded.

“Let’s take them into the station, and question them there,” he said, slowly soothing the fires blazing inside your chest. “Not torture them. Question them.”

His soft hand touched the one holding Jinyoung up, and you released him. Han and Minho quickly collected both Jennie and Jinyoung. You turned to see the townspeople looking at you, fearful and shocked. They saw your glowing marks, your fiery hands, and saw the demon. A monster. At the end of the day, you are the monster they fear.

“Come on,” Chan said gently.

You swiped your jacket from the dirt and threw it over your shoulders. They’ll want you to leave after this. Nobody wants a demon in their town. It’s why you never stay. A lump formed in your throat, and you kept your head down as you followed Han and Minho into the station. You didn’t stop Han and Minho from putting Jinyoung and Jennie in another enchanted cell. Minho went to grab ointments from his desk while Han locked them up. You didn’t bother with the other two. They won’t tell you anything, but the goblin will.

“Nam!”

“Woah, woah, woah! Wait, wait-” Eric Nam ducked into the corner of the cell.

You lifted him by his shirt collar. His fear dripped out of every pore becoming a fuel for the fire in you. “Who is Alcina and where is she?”

“YN!” Chan called behind you. You ignored him.

“Who is she?!”

“She’s a witch we met in Cortuga!” he cried out, eyes shut tightly. “She said she’d make us rich if we helped her! She said all we had to do was kill a few mermaids and Jennie had to rile up some of the sea predators, and we’d be rich! I swear, that’s all I know! That’s all I know, please don’t burn me alive! Please!”

“I ain’t making promises,” you growled “Where is she?”

“I don’t know!” his voice cracked when you pushed him into a wall, “I swear, I don’t know! I don’t! We only met her once! That merman is who we communicated with!”

“Eric, you absolute coward!” Jennie called, brave now that she’s safe in another cell.

“Merman? You mean Mizu?” Chan asked from the cell door.

“Yes! Him!”

“Did he ever say where he meets Alcina?” he came up beside you. “Let him go, YN,” he said, hand on your wrist.

You hated how easily you let go of Eric. On the ground, Eric took a few shaky breaths before he spoke, “He never told us, but I followed him one time. He gave us the ability to breathe underwater, and after one of our meetings, Jinyoung asked me to tail him. Jinyoung never works with anyone without knowing things about them. We thought he might be going to meet someone to do a double cross, but then I…I saw her.”

“Alcina?”

“In a cave outside of Hydrus,” he said, “In a leviathan’s lair. I can conceal myself, so none of them noticed me.”

“What did you hear?”

“Them talking about cursing the king.”

“With what?”

“They said something about mind consumption? I don’t know what that means.”

You turned to Minho, who sat nearby listening as he treated a hand-cuffed Jinyoung. He nodded, “Yes, I’ve heard of it. It’s a mental curse that slowly consumes the mind until the afflicted body deteriorates. It explains why Tytos’s body is slowly shutting down. The brain is having trouble sending signals to the rest of him.”

“Would a stone treat that?”

“It would,” he said, wrapping the pirate’s burnt hand. “I know someone who could help us.”

“Who?”

“Our resident doctor and garden fairy, Yang Jeongin,” he said with a satisfied grin. “If anyone knows about healing crystals, it will be him.”

“You and YN can go talk to him,” Chan directed, “Han and I will watch over these three while we wait on the marshal.”

You hesitated to join Minho. Outside the windows, you saw the remaining pirates turning tail and running out of town by the docks. People coming out of the buildings convened together in the middle of the square, where they embraced loved ones. You then saw them start whispering. It might be about the pirates or about the demon who tortured one in front of them. Regardless, Minho guided you to the door.

“You won't get the reaction you're expecting,” he assured you.

You realized that once you stepped back outside. At first, people looked apprehensive until you heard a steady clap from nearby. This clap then started a wave, and you saw bright, proud faces.

“Thank you,” the boutique shopkeeper smiled, “Thank you for saving us! Those pirates were going to kidnap my little girl, but you showed them.”

“That goblin would've had my head if you didn't have my back!” Fred's farm hand clapped your shoulder, a toothy grin on her face, “Thank you!”

“Can you really set people on fire?!” Eunwoo, the moon elf boy from the inn, asked excitedly.

“Those pirates will think twice before messing with us again!” His friend said, swishing his stick like a sword.

“Boys, that's enough.” Barbara Wallace came up next, clutching her pearl necklace. She hesitated a moment, then said, “Thank you, YN, for saving my husband. Knowing him, he would've gotten himself killed if you didn’t step in.”

“How is he?”

“Just got a nasty bump from the fight. He's had worse injuries,” she sighed. “But, Eunwoo is right. Word will spread with time that Levanter Bay isn't as defenseless as it seems. It truly was a blessed day when you came into our town.”

“The sheriff, Han and myself were there too,” Minho pointed out, hands on hips.

“And you handled it gallantly as always,” she patted his shoulder as she walked past him to the children nearby.

Their collective reaction silenced you. “They aren't…scared?” you looked at Minho as you continued through the square.

“Did you want them to be?” asked Minho, amused.

“No, but that's usually the reaction I get whenever people see, you know, me.”

“The people around here aren't like that,” Minho said. “It’s not as if you tortured an innocent person. He was a scumbag pirate who tried to tear down the town. You did us a favor by arresting him.”

“Most people tend to think that I take it too far…the intimidation part, I mean.”

“The people who think that are idiots,” Minho scoffed. “You’re a demon, YN. Demons swear oaths to protect innocent souls and punish wicked ones, don’t they?”

“We do.”

“And that’s what you were doing: protecting innocent people and punishing the wicked ones.” He then said, “Look, if it makes you feel better, I would’ve made him think he was covered in snakes or spiders or something awful to get him to talk.”

“Psh, mind games,” you snorted, “They’re worse than physical ones, if you ask me.”

“Chan isn’t a fan of them, but it gets the job done and that’s what matters to me.” He said, “The people here aren’t like the people in the cities. They’re wholesome and quaint. They’re…accepting and open. It has to be for so many different people to coexist in the same town.”

He wasn’t wrong. Levanter Bay, despite not having any real sun, definitely carried one of its own in the townspeople. More people thanked you and Minho as you walked down to the doctor’s office right beside the postman’s station. Above the door, someone wrote in black cursive letters: ‘Dr. Yang Jeongin, M.D.’ with a pair of fairy wings with a staff in between underneath. However, you didn’t stop at his office. Jeongin happened to already be outside, tending to a young man with a ghastly cut up his arm.

You briefly remembered Jeongin from your last case, the handsome garden fairy who wore a gray and white hanbok, the traditional attire of his people. His long, bright green wings looked so thin they could be glass. As you drew closer, you saw the white blossoms woven into his black hair like a crown. He’d been in the process of finishing a stitch when you and Minho approached.

“Hello, Minho,” Jeongin said without looking at him. “I’ll be with you in just a moment.”

Minho drew closer, crouching to survey the stitches on the man’s bloody arm. “Your stitching has gotten better.”

“My stitches were always fine. It was yours,” he cut the thread and tied it down, “That were crooked and too tight. Pass the gauze, please.” Minho handed him a roll of white gauze, and Jeongin began wrapping it. “What is this about, Deputy? I have a lot of people who need me.”

“We have someone who may need you more.”

“Who?”

“King Tytos.”

Jeongin stopped wrapping when he heard the name. He looked over his shoulder at Minho, “The Sea King? What’s happened to him?”

“He has mind consumption, Jeongin,” Minho said seriously. “It’s slowly killing him . The mermaid corpses on the beach, the predator attacks along the coast, and the pirates today? They all have to do with Tytos being ill. My friend and I discovered that a way we can combat it is by-”

“-Sapping it out of him,” Jeongin finished, taping off the gauze swiftly. “Mr. Song,” he went into his medical kit beside him, “Take two of these tonight, and swing by in the morning.”

He gave the injured man a packet, then stood up with his bag. “You need black tourmaline,” Jeongin said, turning back to his office, “Which is not easy to find in these parts.”

“Please tell us you happen to have one?” you asked hopefully.

“It just so happens I do. Come with me.”

He led you and Minho into his office across the road. Two young garden fairies stood inside, gathering supplies from shelves and putting them into baskets. “Kira, Koya,” Jeongin called to them, “See to the wounded outside. I have some business with Deputy Lee.”

“Yes, sir,” the twin fairies said together, bowing before leaving the room by their wings.

Jeongin put down his kit and walked to a workbench behind a curtain. “I’m sure you know by now that black tourmaline is used to defend against negative energy, correct?”

“Yes, we do.”

“And Minho should know that certain crystals,” you heard bottles clinking behind the curtain, “Can be used in rituals to remove said negative energies.”

“Obviously,” Minho said defensively. “I only need the incantation used to remove the consumption.”

You heard Jeongin rifle through his stores before coming back from behind the curtain. He held out a black pouch to Minho, “I really should go with you to assess his condition. We don't know how deep and how long the consumption has festered.”

“I estimate about a few weeks now?” You threw out there, “The corpses showed up two days ago, but a friend of ours says his illness has carried on long before that. He shows signs of severe dehydration, malnutrition, delusion, and memory loss.”

Jeongin listened intently, nodding and thinking to himself. “What color was his skin? His eyes?”

“Pale and paler.”

“Hair?”

“He had lots of patches and sores forming where his head rests. He doesn’t have much of it left either.”

“He shows all signs of severe consumption,” Minho told him. “I need the incantation, Jeongin.”

Jeongin walked over to a bookshelf, scanning the spines until he pulled one out. It appeared much older than some on the shelf, with flesh colored leather wrapped around it. Minho gasped upon seeing the strange book.

“What is a garden fairy doing with a dark remedy book?” Minho asked, touching the stitches keeping the cover together.

“It was a gift, if you must know,” he said airily. “I am a doctor, Minho, and doctors need to learn all kinds of arts if they're to treat anyone. Dark magic, as much as it pains me to say, has plenty of full proof remedies.” He smirked at Minho, “What? You don't have one?”

Minho glared, “I do happen to have one. All shadow fae have one. I'm only surprised a bubbly, goody-two-shoes like you would have one as well.”

“I'm not always good. You know that.”

He turned a few pages in the book until he came across a section for curses of the mind.

“Ah, here it is,” he said, putting glasses on the bridge of his nose. “‘Combined with a crystal of light energy or protection, hold it up to the area of first contact and repeat the mantra: ‘Replenish thy mind and embrace the light’ .”

“That's it?” Minho asked, unimpressed. “Just that?”

“Sometimes the treatment is simpler than you think.” He closed the book, “Find the infection site and hold it to him while you say the words. If the king is not as far gone as you believe, then he should be fine.”

“What if he is far gone?” You asked.

Jeongin thought for a moment, then said, “Help him remember things. Anything he may have an emotional attachment to, like a happy moment or a particular event in his life.”

You thought about the king’s reaction to you when you’d spoken as his daughter. Speaking about his dead son, hearing another acknowledge his death, broke the spell for a few seconds.

“Thank you, Jeongin,” Minho said, peeking into the pouch to see the black stones inside, “I'll bring these back so they can be disposed of properly. We don't want anyone using them.”

“I hope it works,” Jeongin said, replacing medical supplies in his bag, “Tytos is a good man, and his people will need him. I pray the Light is kind to him.”

You waited until you left the office to tell Minho, “We need to go now. If we keep putting it off, Tytos will slip too far for us to heal him.”

“Agreed. I'll tell Chan we're going ahead of him,” he dug into the dust pocket on his belt. “You've had a siren’s kiss, right?”

“I have,” you said, remembering Hyunjin’s soft lips.

“Good to know.” He tossed some dust into the air, and spoke into the floating particles. “Chan, we have the cure. We're going to Hydrus right away.” He blew into the dust, and it zoomed away through the crowds. “There's no time to waste. Come on.”

***

A/N: sorry this part is so long! Haha, this episode is pretty long compared to the first one. I still hope you liked it, and thanks for reading <3 please reblog and like <3

Part 3 >

#stray kids #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #bang chan #lee felix #seo changbin #lee minho #han jisung

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ofstoriesandstardust · 2 months

Text

go gentle into that good night (j.h.s.)

a/n: as always, this is for my dearly beloved @cottagecori for letting me ramble and explain and talk through ever angsty idea i have ever had.

summary: The tale of two parties

second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

warnings: rumored cheating, existential crisis, miscommunication, angst, swearing, alcohol mentions

word count: 1.4k

You always forget how much cooler it is out here by the ocean.

It’ll still be a few more months before anyone outside of seasoned surfers will brave the darkened water crashing onto the shore a ways out, but for now it’s calm and quiet as the cooler temperatures keep tourists away.

It's something your friends have taken advantage of as you sit around the firepit, hot dogs roasting and music and laughter echoing all around you. The salt in the air is strong and you lean closer into Jake as a strong breeze runs through.

The shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the bite of the wind.

They’re all talking about their next steps, what comes after graduation, and your stomach turns at the thought of confessing that you don’t actually know.

The conversation you’d had with Pete earlier in the day while you’d waited for Bradley to dig through his parent’s garage for beach chairs plays on a loop, drowning out the words of your friends.

“It’s okay not to know what you’re doing!” Pete says with a laugh.

You worry at your bottom lip before sighing. “I just… everyone I know has these cool job offers or grad school acceptances they’re flaunting on social media, and I feel like I’m… falling behind.” You admit quietly. “Is this all I’m ever gonna be?”

Pete’s face falls at that. “Listen to me. You are incredibly intelligent. You have a very bright future ahead of you, even if that might be hard to see that right now. There are so many people in your life who are supporting you and rooting for you. You’ll figure it out, even if it takes you a little bit longer than others.” Pete pauses. “What are Jake’s plans?”

You shrug. “I think he’s expecting me to come with him wherever he goes.”

Pete pulls a face, full of emotion you aren’t sure you understand. “What?”

He hesitates. “It’s probably not my place, you both are my students-”

“What?” You insist.

“I just don’t want to see you confine your future for somebody else. I meant it when I said when you were one of the smartest students I have ever taught. You have the whole world at your feet. And I just… don’t want to watch you give that all up for somebody who might not be with you in five years time.”

A call of your name startles you back into the present and you blink, realizing Bob is asking if you have any plans for after graduation. You groan, covering your face. “Please don’t ask me that.”

Jake nudges you. “Don’t you want to go to grad school?”

“Yes, but I also want to take some time off. I guess, I don’t know. Can we please stop asking me about this and talk about something else?”

Javy lets out a little chuckle. “Hey, worst comes to worst, you can always be a wag.”

You blink. “A what?”

“A wag! It’s like a slang term for wives and girlfriends of football players.”

“So like... a trophy wife?”

“Kind of-”

“Machado, you say this like she’d want to be stuck with Seresin for that long.”

Jake’s eyes narrow at Bradley. “Bradshaw-”

“Okay, I’m tired of this, we’re moving on.” Natasha cuts the boy off with a roll of her eyes. “Who wants another drink?”

Natasha begins to pass out more cans from the cooler as you tuck yourself further into Jake. Another shiver goes down your spine as you wrap your arms around you.

“Are you cold?” Jake asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to go?”

You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Jake nods, eyes searching yours before pulling his arm tighter around you as he rejoins the conversation.

And I just… don’t want to watch you give that all up for somebody who might not be with you in five years time.

The knock at your door is quickly followed by a call from Jake.

His beaming face in his contact photo appears as you hear him knock again. You answer the call with a click, smiling lazily as you turn down the volume of M*A*S*H* on your screen.

“Hello?”

“Let me in.” Jake’s words are almost a borderline whine.

You hum, pretending to think about it. “I don’t know, I’m doing research.”

He huffs. “You’re just watching M*A*S*H* again, aren’t you?”

“Hey, it’s relevant to my topic.”

He huffs again. “Please.”

You roll your eyes and hang up the call before slipping your blanket and laptop off of you and onto the couch. You pad over the front door of your apartment, pulling it open to see Jake.

His smile blooms at the sight of you as he stumbles forward to give you a hug. You stumble a few feet back with all his weight pressed against you. “Jesus, you’re a clingy drunk.” You mutter, wrapping your arms around him as you try to find your balance. “You’re supposed to be at Bradley’s party.”

With the conclusion of the baseball season (and his parents out of town), Bradley had thrown a party at his parents. You’d opted out of the evening to stay home and do homework, which had ultimately ended up with your scrolling through social media and doing very little work.

Jake hums into your shoulder and you can feel the outline of his smile. “But I wanted to see my girl.”

“You could’ve seen me tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow me will be hungover.”

“And drunk you thought it would be a good idea to come all the way over here?”

“Of course I did. I love you.”

The words Jake uses makes your breath catch in your throat.

Not that he loves seeing you or that he loves spending time with you, but that he loves you.

“Jake, I-” You swallow, unsure of what to say to him in response.

You’re sure that your feelings for Jake had evolved to love, but you weren’t sure if he reciprocated them and certainly had not expected for him to say them first.

And you certainly hadn’t expected it to be while he was drunk, whiskey scent strong on him.

Jake, however, does not seem to sense the gravity of his words as he pushes himself off of you and wanders into your apartment. You shut the door behind him, still feeling a bit dumbfounded.

“Hey, do you have any- Found it!” you follow him into your kitchen, where Jake is triumphantly holding a jar of Nutella.

“Jake, you don’t even like Nutella.” The blond frowns at the jar, as if he’s trying to remember if that’s true. “Why don’t you just come sit on the couch with me?”

Jake abandons the jar without a second though, plopping himself down on the furniture. You let out a sigh, feeling all kinds of off-kilter before moving your laptop to the coffee table before slipping back underneath the blanket and holding it up for Jake.

It takes some shifting and adjusting but he ultimately ends up sprawled out on your couch, head resting against your thigh.

“This is a good episode.” He murmurs and you glance back up at the TV. After watching for a few minutes, you realize it’s the episode where Hawkeye and Trapper are replacing Henry’s desk.

You let out a chuckle. “It is.”

Jake hums against your skin. “I love you.” He whispers on a breath out, so quiet you’re sure you aren't meant to catch the words.

It makes your heart stop again as you wonder if you’re meant to say them back.

Not like this. Not when he won’t remember come tomorrow.

The volume of the TV is soft, the laugh track quiet as Jake’s breathing slows. He’s fallen asleep against your thigh, you realize, as your fingers gently card through his hair.

Your phone buzzes from underneath your leg and you’re careful to not disturb Jake as you adjust to pull it out. You smile softly as his features soften as you begin to scratch his scalp.

That smile fades as you squint at the text preview on the screen in front of you.

hey, i’m really sorry to be the one to tell you this but i think it’s better if i tell you before you hear about it from someone else

You frown, feeling your fingers slow in Jake’s hair as you quickly unlock the device, opening it to your text thread with Bradley.

The bubble pops up a few times as the TV goes to commercial before you mute it entirely.

When you look back at your phone, your stomach drops at what awaits you.

there’s a rumor going around jake hooked up with another girl at the party tonight

and i think it might be true

i’m really sorry

#second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun: maverick fic #top gun: maverick

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somekindofpoet · 1 year

Text

Like A Movie Part VIII

Summary: Filming starts and it stresses Jenna out. Reader learns a valuable lesson.

Word Count: 4.3K

A/N: This is NOT what I had planned to write for this chapter, but sometimes that's just how it works out. For clarity, Jenna calls reader JD as in James Dean, one of reader's many new nicknames. Anywho, enjoy!

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you pulled up to Jenna’s house. A mansion in the hills, maybe, or a penthouse downtown. All you knew was you weren’t expecting this. You double-check her text, making sure you hadn’t gone to her address in the wrong zip code, but no, this was it. You park your car in her driveway and get out, taking in the neighborhood.

You knew Venice beach like the back of your hand, it’s where artists congregated to smoke weed out of the backs of their vans and surfers ran around shirtless and salty. Your first kiss was at the Venice Beach skatepark in sixth grade. To say you were shocked to find Jenna’s home squashed in between the others facing the beach would be an understatement. It was modest and subtle on the outside, though you knew beachfront property in California was worth a pretty penny. Maybe it made more sense than you gave it credit for, but still, to know she had been here all this time was mind blowing.

You pull the top over your car and grab your Jansport, locking it and strolling up to her front gate like you weren’t just having a starstruck moment. You press on the doorbell button at the gate, and her voice comes over the little speaker, tinny and small.

“Hey! Just a sec I’ll buzz you in.”

Half a second later the door buzzed and you push it open, pulling it shut behind you. Her front door opened and she was there smiling at you like she hadn’t just seen you 12 hours ago.

Her house suited her so well it was almost ironic. The exterior was covered in dark cedar planks with black trim and giant bay windows. When you followed her inside you immediately felt comfortable, like you’d been there before. The floors were some kind of red orange stone, the masonry intricate and warm. The ceilings were untreated wood, the walls white, creating the atmosphere of a cabin but with views of the beach.

“Jenna, this is incredible. Why haven’t we been hanging out here? My apartment is a shoebox compared to this.” You tell her, your jaw dropping open.

She smiles as she leads you into the kitchen, shrugging. “I don’t know, I like your apartment. It’s comfortable and I like having all those scripts to go through.”

She returns to the stove, motioning for you to sit at the counter facing her. You pull out a high backed barstool, resting your elbows on the counter. She pours you a glass of red wine and gently slides it over the counter to you, her own already resting next to the stove. You take a second to absorb your situation. You’re in her home, she’s cooking you dinner, and you could kiss her at any moment. The realization hits you and you slide off the stool, rounding the counter and striding over to her.

You wrap your arms around her shoulders and hold your forearm over her chest as she continues to work, turning her head to give you a quick kiss. You can’t believe this is your life.

“Smells good, whatcha making me?”

“I figured I’d pull out all the stops and impress you, I’m making some lemon garlic mahi-mahi and,” she points with her spatula to the oven, “some roasted asparagus with golden potatoes.”

You take a deep breath, smelling all the food mixing together and it makes your mouth water. “Well this is putting my cooking skills to shame.”

She laughs and leans her head over to rest on yours, “Your pancakes will forever have a special place in my heart.”

You reach down to grab a piece of fish that broke off the filet, only to have your hand swatted away.

“Awh come on just a little taste, I’m starvin here.” You pout, dropping your chin onto her shoulder.

She takes the piece you reached for between her fingers and turns, letting your arms stay hung over her shoulders. The glint in her eyes makes your stomach flutter, and you gulp.

“Here,” she says and you open your mouth, letting her feed you.

Your lips wrap around her fingertips and her lip quirks up as she pulls them back. “Don’t get any ideas JD, we have to eat first.”

“And second?”

“We’ll see.” She says, but her expression tells you she already has plans.

————

Weeks start blurring past, you splitting your nights between your apartment and Jenna’s house, waiting for the set to be built so filming can start and working with the studio on production. You’re flying by in a state of new relationship bliss. You learn more little things about her every day, like the way she brushes her teeth, how she paces around when she’s thinking, the moments she likes to hold your hand and how she somehow takes up more bed space than anyone of her stature should be capable of.

The first day of filming is finally upon you and you’re giddy with excitement. The night before was one of the few nights you’d spent apart and you were impatient to get out to set to see her. You were also thrilled to watch your movie begin to come together at last, and you rushed out to the ranch as early as you thought socially acceptable.

Jenna’s Volvo is in the newly crafted parking area, so you swing in next to it. When you get out you can’t believe how much they’ve transformed the old house. What was once barren ground now held trailers and tents, people crossing every which way around them. The house is still utterly terrifying, even in the middle of the day. You make your way through the temporary buildings to stand at the foot of the porch stairs, staring at its peeling paint in awe.

“Well look who it is, our very own Casanova out of her sex dungeon.” Olivia’s voice rings out over the set commotion.

You turn around and dap her outstretched fist. She’s already in costume, her hair and makeup perfectly in place.

“Okay, look at you hot shot. All ready to attempt to woo my girlfriend?”

Olivia scoffs, “Attempt? Please y/n, she’s going to marry me. And we’re just gonna skip right over my sex dungeon comment huh?”

You point your finger at her, “It’s bait and I’m not taking it. And don’t get too handsy in there, I’m bunking with your boss don’t you forget it.”

“Is bunking what we’re calling it now?” She smirks.

You roll your eyes but you’d cant help the grin pulling at your lips. “Walk me to her trailer would you? This place is a fucking maze.”

Olivia nods and sets off into the labyrinth of trailers. You joke together and poke fun at each other on the walk over. She’s practically vibrating with excitement, and you’re genuinely happy for her. You hope the movie is a big break for her, because she’s got some serious talent. She stops in front of one of the many identical trailers and points up at the sign in the door.

“This one is hers. Mine is two rows down if you want to come by later to tell me how incredible I was today.”

She sets off, leaving you at the doorstep, laughing to herself. You shake your head at her back, grateful for her friendship and lame jokes. You look up at the door and you’re feeling star struck again. Jenna’s name is there in plain black print under Secessus, and the word Judas is printed under her name. You reminisce back to the day you told her you thought she should play Judas, just as starstruck then as you are now.

“Oh the star is such a diva, I wouldn’t approach her before filming.”

Jenna’s voice behind you makes you jump and she laughs, wrapping you in a hug when you turn around.

“You scared the hell out of me woman.” You tell her when she steps out of the hug.

She reaches up for the door handle nodding. “That was the goal, gotta get you ready for a jump scare or two.”

She opens the door and steps inside, you follow her close behind. You plop onto the couch, kicking your feet up on the arm, putting your arms behind your head. Jenna side eyes you from the kitchen, pulling a water from her fridge. She comes over to the couch, pushing your waist so you scoot over, and sits with you.

“What scenes are we doing today, Judas?” You ask her.

She cringes, “It’s probably better that you disassociate me from Judas now, so it’s easier later.”

Her tone is serious, so you sit up, your back resting against the arm of the couch. She’s nervous about something, and that makes you nervous.

“What’s going on?” Your concern is showing, so she reaches out to hold your hand.

She’s chewing on her bottom lip, her brows knitted together. She starts playing with your fingers, moving and bending them in her own. She opens her mouth to speak, but then hesitates and closes it. You reach the hand she’s not holding out, tipping her head up to look you in the eyes. You don’t say anything, but you tilt your head in question. She will say what she means to say, if you just give her time. Eventually she does speak, her words slow and unsure.

“It’s just that. Well you know, you wrote the story. You know who I’m going to have to become to play this part. And what I’m going to have to do.”

You let out a breathy laugh in relief, “You’re not going to actually kill anyone Jenna.”

She shakes her head, “That’s not what I mean. I have to be a different person on set. And I’m going to have to pretend to have sex with your friend.”

You gulp at the thought. You knew that but was coming, you did write the story. You’re kicking yourself now for not writing something more PG, but it adds to the narrative. You gather yourself for her benefit.

“If you’re worried about me, I’m going to be okay,” you assure her, “it’s just a job. Just an act. I can handle it.”

You’re not actually sure of that, but how can you be? You’d never been in this situation before. But you do know you wouldn’t let her job come between the two of you now. Not after knowing what it felt like to have her in your life like this. She sighs but nods with resignation.

“Not to bring out skeletons or anything, but I’ve had…trouble with this in the past. My last relationship ended because they couldn’t separate me from my job. And I admit sometimes I couldn’t either.”

She’s searching your eyes as she speaks, looking for any signs of possible doubt. You fight to remain nonchalant, trying to show her you could handle this. You could do this for her.

She continues, “I just don’t want to mess this up. And I want you to know what you’re in for.”

“I know what I’m in for. And I’m here, I’m in it. We’re going to be okay.”

Your thumb brushes over her cheek as she gives you a soft smile. Her posture relaxes and she leans over to kiss you. You pull her over, making her lose her balance and catch herself on the side of the couch. She laughs into your lips and you feel successful. Her stress drains out of her and your heart sings seeing her more at ease.

A knock bangs at her door, a man’s voice calls out, “Everyone is in place, they’re ready for you!”

Jenna leans back from you, her eyes bright with excitement. “Showtime.” She says, standing up and pulling you off the couch.

You follow her back outside and weave through the trailers at her side. She smiles up at you and grabs your hand.

“I’m only directing today, so stick around okay?”

You nod in agreement, the pep in your step carrying you all the way to set. When you come into view of the scene set up, she drops your hand and puts on a straight face. She means business now, and you mean to stay the hell out of her way.

She does an incredible job at directing. You think there’s no fucking way she’s never done this before. She’s stern but encouraging, sure but flexible, taking the actors’ thoughts into account. She choreographs the camera crew and her voice carries across the set with ease.

You swell with pride watching her work. She asks you for input here and there, picking your brain for scene cues and what emotions you were looking for when you wrote them. You’re thrilled to be able to give feedback, whispering about an eyebrow raise and the trail of a finger on the porch handrail, and the level of lighting you imagined. You’re once again struck with the fact that this whole thing came from your mind. It seems surreal now, it’s taking a life of its own, independent of you.

—————

The days of filming are long and many. You’re not able to spend as much time with Jenna outside of work as you want to, but you’re both usually so exhausted by the time the day is done you just go home. You’ve been privileged to see her direct and act now, and to say you’re impressed with her would be an egregious understatement. If you thought she was a star before, now you think she’s a galaxy. An entire universe of stars, pulling everyone along in her wake.

You’re laying on your couch on a rare day off, considering writing but not really intending to. You don’t have the brainpower to sit down and crank out another story. You just need to chill. Life on set is chaotic and exhausting, and you can’t fathom how Jenna does this for months on end.

You take a tennis ball from your coffee table, one of the many things you keep around to make your hands busy while you think. You toss it up above your head, waiting till the last second to catch it before it hits your face. The repetitive motion with little thought is soothing, almost meditative. You toss it up, and your phone rings on the table, surprising you. The ball drops and hits you on the forehead before rolling off under your couch.

Frowning and rubbing your head, you swipe to answer your phone without looking at who’s calling, putting it on speaker and dropping off the couch on your hands and knees.

“Yello?” You say as you crawl over to the spot you saw the ball roll. You reach your arm under the couch, blindly sweeping for it.

“Y/n?” A tear choked voice comes through the speakers and you jerk your head up, slamming it on the coffee table.

“Shit.” You say, holding your head with one hand and walking over to the table on your knees. It’s Jenna’s name on your phone.

“Hey what’s going on what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just.” She sniffs hard, trying to stop crying, “Can you come over?”

You jump to your feet, the tennis ball forgotten. “Be there in 20.”

You shove your phone in your pocket, not even hanging up and skid in your socks to your entry way. After a brief moment of Scooby Doo running in place, you finally find traction and make it to your shoes. You pull them on your feet, grab your keys and fly out of the door. You’re halfway down the stairs before you hear Jenna’s voice in your head say ‘Did you lock the door?’ You stop, almost hurtling yourself down the steps and turn around, running back up to lock the door.

You sprint down the stairs and jump in your car, peeling out of your parking lot.

There’s no open parking on Jenna’s street, her car in her driveway blocking where you’d usually park. It’s strange, she almost always uses her garage. You have to park two blocks down, and jog to her house. When you get to her gate you type in the code she’d given you, throw it shut behind you and run to her door knocking loudly.

You’re gasping for air, the run down the blocks reminding you that you should probably give up the vape and spend some more time in the gym. When she opens her door you can immediately tell she’s a wreck. Her eyes are swollen from crying and her hair is falling out of her bun, hanging in her face.

You step inside, kicking the door shut. She turns away from you but you grab her shoulder turning her back to face you and pulling her in to embrace her. You don’t even know what’s wrong, but right now all you want to do is comfort her. She melts into you, her arms wrapping around your waist and her hands gripping your shirt.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles into your chest, and you lean back, trying to see her face.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” You ask her, craning your neck around so you can see more of her face.

She’s breathing steadier now, her eyes closed and her cheek pressed firmly into your shirt.

“For calling you like this. I’m sorry. I was just freaking out and you were the first person I thought to call.”

You gently push her shoulder back, trying to get her to loosen her grip on you. “Hey, hey it’s okay. Let’s go sit down so you can tell me what happened.”

She nods against your chest and lets go of you, leading you to her couch. There is paper everywhere. Copies of Secessus with her handwriting all over it, set designs, cue cards, stage lists all strewn about the room. You consider saying something about it, then think better of it. She sits down, pulling you with her to the cushions.

She gestures around at the paper, “I can’t get any of this right. It’s not perfect. I don’t know why I thought I could do this.”

You nod, understanding what was happening. You’d never seen her this way, but she had told you about the times she’d had panic attacks over work.

“Why don’t we start at the beginning, and you walk me through what happened?” You tell her, your thumb running across the back of her hand.

She takes a deep steadying breath, closing her eyes again and nodding. “I can’t get this scene together. The lines are making me crazy. And directing myself…it’s basically impossible. I’m not doing well enough-“

“Woah woah woah,” you say, interrupting the spiral she had spun herself back into. “Okay, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re being too hard on yourself right now, you’ve been amazing every time I’ve seen you on set.”

She pulls her hand back from you shaking her head. “No, it’s not good enough. You don’t get it. You wouldn’t know.”

Her words sting you, but you let it slide. You’d talk to her about it later, when she wasn’t in such a state.

“Maybe not.” You say quietly, “And I probably can’t convince you otherwise right now. But I want you to know that I think you’re extraordinary.”

She groans, falling back to lay on the couch. You’re starting to question why she called you over if she didn’t want your help. You want to comfort her, but you’re not sure how.

“It’s too much. I can’t do it.” She whispers, pressing her hands into her eyes.

Her words send a chill down your spine. Your stomach twists in knots. You reach your hand over to her knee, resting it there.

“What can I do? What do you need from me?”

“Nothing.” She says, her voice going cold. “I don’t know why I called you. It’s your script. Your movie. I can’t do it.”

You know that she doesn’t mean it. You know that she’s desperately searching for something to be angry at so that she doesn’t feel the despair that is very apparently taking her down a rabbit hole of self sabotage. But that doesn’t mean her words don’t hurt. You pull your hand from her leg and stand up, looking down at her. She doesn’t take her hands off her eyes.

You want to shake her. To tell her that she’s the sun and everyone orbits around her. To show her the person everyone sees and loves. The person you see. But she’s not there, and you’re not going to let her talk to you the way she had. Even if she was the sun.

You don’t say another word to her and walk to her back door. You glance back and she’s still in the same position. You leave out the back, kicking your shoes off on her patio. You walk down to the ocean, the sand warm under your bare feet. You sit down a few feet from where the tide is licking at the shore, watching a group of kids play frisbee down the beach.

You’re angry with her for calling you over. You’re disappointed with her for saying things to you that she doesn’t mean. It’s the first moment you realize that she is shockingly human. Imperfect and flawed, just like everyone else. Just like you. The anger seeps out of you, and you resolve to sit there for a while before you go back inside and talk to her again.

The sun warms your skin, and the sounds of the ocean crashing onto the sand settle you. You smile to yourself because as unpleasant as the interaction you’d just had was, it was still with her. You wouldn’t rather fight with anyone else. You’re lost in thought, face pointed toward the sky, eyes closed.

A shadow passes over your face, and a body drops into the sand next to you. You turn your head and open your eyes. Jenna. She’s looking at you like she’s lost you already, and it breaks your heart to think that she believes something so small would send you packing. You open your arm out and she takes your invitation, sighing in relief as she leans into your side.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

She wraps her arms around your waist and rests her head on your shoulder. She looks up at you, and you glance down at her, not moving your head.

“Can you forgive me?” She asks quietly.

You smile, “You were forgiven about five minutes ago.”

“Before I even apologized?” She asks, sitting up to look at you.

“Yes.” You say simply.

“So I didn’t need to apologize?”

“Oh no, you definitely needed to apologize. You were mean.”

“I didn’t mean anything I said. I mean, I did mean that I was stressed. I am stressed. But it’s not your fault.”

You gaze out over the water, nodding your head. “I know. Still stings, though.”

She sighs, “Have I told you I’m sorry?”

You shrug and turn to look at her. Her eyes are wide and fearful. She’s afraid of losing you, still. It brings you some comfort, but the desire to reassure her is there again. You’re not going anywhere, and you want to make sure she knows that.

“What do you need when you’re feeling that way? You know, for next time?” You ask her because you know there will be a next time.

You know that she’s not suddenly going to become less anxious and neurotic just because of you. But you want to know how to help her, not send her into a spiral again or piss her off by comforting her in a way she doesn’t want. Everyone has a love language, and everyone has a preference on how to be settled. Hers was very apparently NOT words of assurance. Which makes sense to you now, seeing as she’s probably told every day by millions of people how incredible she is.

Her expression softens impossibly further, and she looks like she’s going to cry again.

“No one has ever asked me that.” She gulps, frowning, fighting back tears.

“Well that’s just an absolute injustice.” You say, smiling.

“I guess I don’t want to be comforted. I want to be distracted. When someone tells me I’m great and I’m telling them I hate my performance, it feels like an argument. And the last thing I want to do in that mindset is argue. So next time, I’d like to be distracted.”

“Oh now that I can do.” You reply, smirking.

She looks at you wide eyed and confused, and you throw your body over, tackling her onto her back in the sand. You plant little kisses all over her face, drawing a surprised laugh out of her. You press one last kiss to her lips and roll off her, lying by her side.

“Thank you.” She says shyly, staring at your fingers in the sand.

“Let’s go clean your mess up,” you say, pushing yourself up onto your knees.

“Stay with me tonight?” She says, still lying in the sand, “Let’s watch movies and get drunk.”

You cover your heart with both hands like she’s stabbed you and dramatically drop back into the sand next to her. “Oh, oh no.” You cry out, “Cupid's arrow, right through the ticker.”

She laughs and leans over you, kissing the corner of your mouth, “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m your idiot now. So feed and water me, shower me with affection.”

She stands and offers you her hand, pulling you up. “What are we watching tonight? Lady's choice.” She asks you as you walk back to her house.

“Ooooh let’s watch Scott Pilgrim Vs the World.”

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday #tara carpenter #vada cavell

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