#you know how good memory can be when it comes to smells or flavors | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sage-green-matcha · 9 months

Note

Can you do one in a treehouse with experienced ethan and fully virgin reader smut pls

(only if u want to)

PICTURE ME IN THE TREES - ETHAN LANDRY 🌬️

Losing your virginity with Ethan in your childhood treehouse <3

MINORS DNI!

Content includes: SMUT! P in V sex, sweet Ethan!

A/n: I love this request sm! Hope you enjoy my love 🫶

Ethan’s hand was softly intertwined with yours, your shoulder slightly bumping into him with each step.

Dead leaves crunched under your feet, the smell of autumn filling your nose.

You had started going on evening walks with Ethan, just something small to appreciate each other.

“I didn’t know you had a treehouse” Ethan covered his eyes from the sun, looking up into the tiny house that was surrounded by forest.

“Yea, It was my little hideout when I was younger” You took his hand closer as you walked towards the forest, ending up in front of the tall, fragile ladder.

“Ladies first” His eyes were slightly scared, but you knew this ladder could hold anyone up. Your hands grabbed onto the broken wood, careful to not get any splinters on your hands.

Your knees hit the old wood, stepping inside while Ethan followed. Memories of your time spent here rushed into your brain.

It was really dusty, but it was nice. Your mom had it built for you, with a full bed and bookshelf. Ripped posters hung from the walls, string lights surrounding the ceiling.

“This is surprisingly nice” His eyes twinkled once you turned the string lights on, the warm hue making him feel warm inside.

You made your way over to the bed, shaking off the small amount of dirt that was on the throw blanket. Ethan sat next to you, his curly head of hair on your shoulder while he played with the rings on your finger.

“It’s so nice in here”

“Yea…my little self loved it in here. But I haven’t come up in ages”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why not?”

“The divorce was messy, it reminded me too much of my mom so I avoided it at all costs. What a waste though, I could’ve cleaned this place up and used it for something else.”

His lips brushed against your neck, sending a tingling sensation down your spine. Your skin was sensitive to his touch, even the slightest brush made you melt.

“Ethan…” You smiled, turning your head towards him. “What?” He knew what he was doing, and it wasn’t a horrible idea.

Just by the way you looked inside the small house made him realize how much you missed it. The only reason you stopped loving it was because of bad memories. If he gave you a good one…maybe you’ll love it again.

You pushed yourself closer to Ethan, his lips now sucking on your neck. You felt nervous, anxiety bubbling up in your tummy.

You weren’t very experienced, scratch that…you lacked it. You remember watching a video of how to please yourself, but you never felt anything so you gave up.

You moved yourself down to his lips, soft and sweet as he took your face into his hands.

You made it clear to Ethan that you wanted to take things slow. He respected that, and he knew it would make your first time that much more special.

“I like you a lot, Y/n”

“I know”

Your whispers traveled around the cold room, the sound of wet kisses on skin mixing with your voice.

His large hands grabbed at your skin, desperate to taste the flavor of your lips.

Gently, his hand ran up your shirt, his warm skin on your stomach.

“Can I take this off?” Your brain screamed, trying not to show how flustered you were getting. You nodded your head, but it wasn’t enough for Ethan. He needed to make sure you were definitely okay with it, definitely comfortable.

“Tell me”

“Yes,” You gulped, Ethan, pulling the fabric off your torso. Your nipples hardened under your bra, cold air brushing against your skin.

Ethan slipped his shirt off, a kiss placed roughly on your puffy lips. You took your hands to his chest, tracing his slightly toned skin. “You’re so touchy” You looked up to give him a small glare.

His hands held onto your hips as you closed your eyes, Ethan spreading apart your naked legs. Your core glistened in front of him, his cock hard at the sight.

“Ready?”

“Mhm”

You took a deep breath as you felt his cock stretch out your walls. “It hurts Eth” you mumbled, face slightly pained under him. “I know baby, I know. I’m sorry” He whispered sweet things in your ear as you took all of him, the feeling being good yet bad at the same time.

Ethan could barely breathe. Your cunt was so tight, milking his cock perfectly. He swore he could’ve busted right there.

Slowly, he pulled back his hips before thrusting back Into you, your pussy getting used to the feeling. The feeling of pain quickly dissolved as he thrusted, pleasure radiating all over your body.

He kept a slow and steady pace, but he was desperate for more. He didn’t know it, but you were too. Through broken words, your mumbled, Ethan was surprised. “Faster” He didn’t think twice, thrusting and pushing his hips into you in faster movements.

He didn’t go any harder, and you were glad. You probably would’ve melted right there.

A layer of sweat formed on your face, small moans and whimpers fell from your lips.

Sounds of skin slapping filled your ears, you were so overwhelmed, feeling yourself float in your senses.

You let out a small whimper as he touched your clit, applying hard pressure to your sensitive bud. You tensed up your legs, your chest rising up and down quickly.

You felt yourself go stupid on his cock, whispering words you never thought you’d be admitting. “What’s that sweetheart?” You gulped as he went inside you harder, seconds away from his release.

“I’m all yours, I’m all…yours” Your eyes rolled back, legs shaking as you felt a tight knot in your stomach stretch, so close to snapping.

Moans fell from your lips, your legs aching from Ethan’s harsh thrusts. But you couldn’t complain, it felt too good for you to feel the pain in the moment.

Ethan groaned in your ear, rubbing your clit faster as he noticed your breathing becoming uneven. Your back arched as you felt that tie snap, legs shaking as cum oozed from your hole, covering Ethan’s veiny cock.

Quickly, he pulled out of you, strings of cum being shot onto your stomach. You were too fucked out to care, your lips parted while you rolled to your side, trying to catch your breath.

He placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles on your skin. His lips made marks and kisses on your legs, pulling you closer to him by your waist.

He brushed the sweaty hair out of your face, kissing you softly. You didn’t say anything, instead burying your face into his chest, legs to your stomach while he hugged you.

2K notes · View notes

justhereforthemeta · 8 months

Text

Crowley and the Fall: Looking where the furniture isn't

Furfur, 1941: "We were in the same legion. Just before the fall. Doing dubious battle on the plains of Heaven. Remember?"

Crowley: "I remember going into battle. I don't remember being there with you."

Um... does Crowley's professed memory track with what we know about his fall? Setting aside for a moment that he doesn't remember Furfur - I mean, who just casually *saunters* into battle, really? In theory, it sounds like Crowley must have, but that's not what his "I remember going into battle" sounds like. It's been said before, but something about the circumstances of Crowley's fall (what little we know of it, at least) doesn't smell right. What we know is:

First, Crowley asked questions.

These questions antagonized the Metatron.

At some point, having gotten no satisfactory answers, Crowley began "sauntering vaguely downward," hanging out with the wrong crowd out of...boredom? Boredom with making nebulae? Nahhh. "Food hadn't been that good lately" (ahem, angels don't eat) sounds a lot like a euphemism for not enjoying the things you used to enjoy anymore. Ennui, maybe depression. Comes of your work feeling pointless, when you think you've been contributing to something big and meaningful that turns out to just be fancy wallpaper, something that was always meant to get torn down eventually anyway (ugh, Crowley, you and I should go get a whiskey after work sometime).

Eventually, that "wrong crowd" becomes a legion marching into battle on the plains of heaven.

Lucifer's side loses, and Crowley finds himself "suddenly doing a million lightyear freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur." Funny that whilst talking to no one but himself in the bar in season 1, Crowley characterizes his Fall as "sudden" with no mention of a precipitating rebellion or battle at all. Either way, it seems like there'd be a lot of distance for him to cover to get from "I'm feeling profoundly disappointed; what once sustained me has lost its flavor" to "I'm going to violently overthrow the system and put these other guys in charge." Especially for the one demon we know of who still appeals directly to God.

Anyway, that half-baked word casserole is my basis for theorizing that Crowley did ask questions, but he never violently rebelled. "Going into battle" is the sort of thing one does with some conviction, not in an attitude of casual, sauntering disaffection. And even if he was hanging out with the wrong crowd, Crowley has never been a mindless follower: he'd be just as likely to question and critique Lucifer/Satan as the Almighty Herself. If Crowley did fight in the war (big if, if you ask me), I suspect it was on the side of Heaven. Then at some point his memory was tampered with to make him forget which side he'd been on. The fog of war and all that...

One last thought on this topic: Saraquael. She claims to have worked with Crowley on the horsehead nebula; moments later, we see on heavenly instant replay that she was the angel tapping at their phone to look for Gabriel's memory so that it could be wiped. Was her question actually meant to test Crowley, to see how much he'd managed to remember?

Saraquael, only angel to recognize Metatron when he strolls into the bookshop - are you the one who performed the wipe of Crowley's memory on Metatron's behalf?

I haven't learned yet how to get good screenshots, but if you can, hit pause on Crowley's face just before the electrical sounds go off in heaven after Aziraphale has blown up his halo. He's turned around from the screens to look directly at Saraquael in this shot. His eyebrows are raised and we can see his narrowed eyes clearly through his sunglasses. He KNOWS.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens meta #pushed not fell

572 notes · View notes

criceofpain · 11 months

Text

cherry kisses | lee heeseung

part two: strawberry skies

featuring: enhypen members

synopsis: heeseung is desperate to find out who he had a one-night stand with at his house party last night, and the only clue he has is the taste of cherry balm on her lips.

pairing: sub leaning!heeseung x dom leaning!afab reader

genre: smut, fluff, angst (only a tinge), pwp, strangers to lovers

word count: 4802

warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dom and sub themes, degradation, choking, bondage, oral sex (m and f receiving), teeny tiny bit of anal if you squint, heeseung on a leash

With a lip balm stick in hand, Heeseung stands frozen in the middle of the living room while the other boys bustled all over the place—Jay making hangover soup in the kitchen, Jake running with the vacuum cleaner, and Sunghoon picking up the scattered cups that may or may not have smelled like spit as he was grimacing hard.

With a heavy head, the eldest plopped onto the couch behind him, his fringe obstructing his sight as he held up the item on his hold. “Cherry flavored”, it read.

He instinctively runs his tongue over his top lip, remembering the faint taste the balm left from last night’s happenings. Vivid images of a certain woman flash in his head as he fixes his gaze on the balm. He found her gorgeous, submitting to him as he let the alcohol take over his body. The bad news was this—he wasn’t able to pick up a name, a face, or even a clue on who she was. At this point, she was considered a Jane Doe.

He shakes his head in frustration, shoving the balm stick inside his jean pocket. How could he not remember someone who fucked him so good?

“You done daydreaming yet?” Sunghoon asks, throwing a shirt on Heeseung's way, which he swiftly catches with his hand. The younger gives him a suggestive grin, almost about to laugh. “Hyung got that good banging last night, huh?”

“Shut up, Hoon.'' Heeseung hisses, messily putting on the shirt that turned out to be Jay's, judging by the smell of perfume on it. “Don't want to talk about that.”

“Oh, I bet he’s been ditched.” Jake snickers, turning off the vacuum cleaner and ceasing its noise. the lad stifles a laugh as he saw the scratch marks on Heeseung’s back and the hickeys on his neck. “I mean, look at his face. He looks like I stole his cup ramyeon.”

“But was he, though?” Jay chimes from the kitchen, a pot of soup on his two hands as he walks cautiously to the dining table. “You can’t skimp on the deets, hyung. You gotta tell us what happened.”

Heeseung shakes his head yet again, not bothering to answer the questions being thrown at him. These stubborn fucks. He stands on his feet, sauntering to the table as the smell of the soup welcomes him. Who in their right mind would want to miss out on Park Jongseong's cooking?

“Hasn't it come to you that she might be in one of our classes?” Jake suggests as he sits down, holding four bowls in his hands. “We can ask around, you know. we have Sunghoon’s influence for that.”

With a dramatic gasp, Sunghoon retorts, “You fucker! Just because I'm popular doesn’t mean i can just go around the campus asking ‘Hey, do you know some girl who fucked Lee Heeseung last night?’. I'm not an introvert for nothing, bro.”, earning laughs from the two J’s.

“Nah, but seriously speaking,” Jay prefaces, pushing a bowl of soup for each of the three. “What's with this girl that not remembering her bothers you so much?”

The question sends Heeseung into silence, making him rethink his worries in the first place as he consumes his hangover soup slowly.

Maybe it was the way he felt when she touched him, or what her moans sounded like. Hell, it might be the way that his body moved synchronously with his which just felt so right. No one has ever driven him into a crazy state before this.

“I don't know either.”

***

“One, two, three… pick up your paces, y'all!”

The words immediately disappear from your memory as you fervently jump to the beat of the professor’s whistles that were seriously doing no good for your eardrums. With eyes closed, you fling your arms upward as you keep the balls of your feet moving. How much more do I have to endure?

That was just one of the reasons you despised gym class. As the last whistle trills, you almost drop to the floor. Beads of sweat roll down your forehead as your body emitted heat from all that muscle exertion. You break into peals of pants, trying to catch your breath.

“I’m about to fucking pass out.” you gasp under your breath as you panted, vision almost getting blurry as your professor rambled about something in the background. He better supply me with a nebulizer kit after this.

You reach for your back pocket rather weakly, feeling for the lip balm stick inside of it. As strange as it seems, you couldn’t risk getting chapped lips every time because boy, you hated stinging lips. You lift the stick open, twist it slightly, and slowly smear the product all over your lips. The familiar taste of cherry meets your taste buds, just as usual.

You sigh as you put the balm back in your pocket, relieved that you were able to replenish your stock after running out of it last night.

Oh, last night was so memorable. You give yourself a mental pat on the back. If it weren’t for you going crazy over Lee Heeseung’s lip ring and asking him for a kiss, you would’ve lived a boring life. He had a reputation for being the smartest and most proper of his pack, but you were slowly doubting that after he drunk fucked you senselessly and made you his bitch last night.

Still catching your breath, you finally get on your feet, making way to the gym bleachers. You make a mental note to proceed to the film department in hopes to spot your senior-turned-daddy dom. it’d please you to see him go wild again.

“So when do you plan on revealing yourself?”

You almost jump at the sudden voice, clutching your chest tightly. In a blink, you see Sunghoon in front of you, wearing a lopsided smile on his face.

“What do you want?” you ask through your teeth, slapping the lad’s shoulder while you were at it.

“It was you, right?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Park Sunghoon.” you shook your head, dabbing your face with a cool towel.

Sunghoon clicks his tongue loud enough for it to echo throughout the whole basketball court. You gasp as he feigns disappointment, shaking his head and pretending to cry as if someone had passed. You roll your eyes at his antics and pinch his earlobe, ceasing his act.

“Ow! Fine!” Sunghoon pouted. “It's about Heeseung hyung.”

Oh.

You let go of poor Sunghoon’s ear and flash him a shit-eating grin, contrary to the frown you were wearing just earlier. You had no idea how you became whipped for that man in the first place when you’ve just interacted once, but you liked it. You liked him. Seeing this, Sunghoon cups his mouth with his palm, realization dawning on him.

“No way.” Sunghoon cackled silently, eyes still agape and staring at your smug expression. “So it was you.”

“Oh, it was me, indeed.” you reply before chugging down water from your tumbler. You swallowed, letting the cold liquid pass down your throat. “Why are you suddenly asking me about this, by the way?”

“Hyung actually doesn’t have any idea who obliterated him good last night,” Sunghoon mutters, fidgeting with his fingers. I still can’t believe my two best friends fucked! “and you can only imagine how it bothers him up until now.”

Lee Heeseung? Bothered? Those two words made a very strange combination. You figured he’d just call it a night and not tell everyone. Somehow, you were envious towards Sunghoon because Heeseung was able to see everything firsthand—how he thought about you, how you occupied his mind, how he felt about the marks and scratches you left on his body, and how his face looked whenever he’d come undone inside you.

“Should I reveal myself, then?”

***

“Good game, you fuckers!” Jake hollers as he spun his sweaty soccer uniform on his hand like a lasso. This earns him disgusted looks from his teammates, especially Sunghoon and Jungwon who were bona fide clean freaks.

“Ew, would you stop that, hyung?” Jungwon winces, throwing a cleat in Jake's way. “And stop cursing, will you? there’s a seventeen-year old in the room.”

It was another cup bagged by the Decelis Academy’s soccer team, scoring them three goals against their sworn enemies, JYP University, way up to victory. Their coach would scold the life out of them for being “pussies” and they’d always prove him wrong after that, which always sends their poor coach into a state of mental breakdown.

The locker room reeked of mixed sweat and perfume, the temperature hot and humid. They've surely worked themselves out on that game.

“Hey, don’t forget the deal, you guys!” Jay chuckled, shoving his dirty uniform into a mesh bag, leaving him half-naked. “Anyone who gets a yellow card treats us to the barbecue place.”

“Who got himself a yellow again?” Sunoo gives Jay a side-eye, fanning himself. “That rarely happens.”

“Well, a man who goes by Lee Heeseung shall explain.” Sunghoon roams his eyes around the room, frowning as he didn’t find a trace of Heeseung, or Heeseung himself, in the area.

“Too bad, he’s already in the showers.” Riki shrugs.

***

The splashing water sounds echo in the almost empty shower room, along with Heeseung's steady breaths that overpowered it. With his palms stuck on the cubicle wall and eyes shut, he let the cold water drench him from head to toe.

It was a good game, but strangely, he didn’t feel like hanging out with the team. On a usual basis, he’s always the most enthusiastic about after parties and samgyeopsal sessions. Today, however, was an exception. He opted for a cold, peaceful shower in hopes to get the still unknown woman off of his mind.

Or so he thought.

He sluggishly twists the shower knob, ceasing the flow of water from above his head. With eyes now wide open, he pulled a towel and wrapped it around his hips. “Finally.” he whispers, stepping out of the cubicle after sliding his flip-flops on.

He cautiously walks on the slippery floor, and to the lockers. What he didn’t know, however, was the pair of eyes spying on him as he walks half-naked to the lockers.

“Fancy seeing you here.” a voice says, startling the life out of Heeseung and almost making him topple to the floor if it weren’t for his grip on the sink. A peal of laughter follows it after as he got himself on his feet, cursing under his breath.

You stare in amusement as the oblivious lad scrutinized your whole form. He squints as he sees your fit—an oversized black hoodie with the hood snugly fitting your head, a pair of sunglasses that were big enough to cover your whole face, and your school’s gym uniform.

“Excuse me.” Heeseung almost stutters, completely flustered as he was only wearing a towel to cover his privates. “This is the men’s showers.”

you giggled, pulling your sunglasses off to reveal your face to him. “I know,” you quip. “sir.”

Heeseung finds himself almost choking at the nickname. He had no idea what it was for, but it definitely caught him off-guard. You smirk smugly as you take off your hoodie, enjoying the perplexed expression on his face. You were finally face-to-face with your person of interest and you wish you had a camera right now so you can remember the privilege of being able to bring out Heeseung's inner satyr.

“Aww, that’s not how you looked while you were busy making me come last night.” you coo, running a hand over his wet abdomen. He sucks in a deep breath as your fingertips move slowly along his muscles, touch like electricity making him tense up. The feeling was so familiar to him that realization finally dawned on him. Fuck, it’s really her.

He freezes, realizing that the person who bothered him so much ever since this morning is now in front of him. As you proceed with your ministrations, he feels himself getting harder as your fingers move down south. A smile creeps up your face, pressing your body against his bare one. Oh, how your breasts felt soft against his chest.

He looks down at your breasts squished against him and lets out a chuckle. It was time for him to stop playing coy. “If only you’d take that annoying bra off right now, maybe we could pick up where we left off last night.”

Not letting you speak, he yanks your bra down, revealing your soft and perky breasts. You let out a gasp as he latched his tongue on one of your nipples, his hands making their way down to pull your sweats and panties down.

“Already wet for me?” Heeseung mumbles against your breast as he dipped a finger on your sex. “I guess I wasn't the only frustrated one.”

He then pulls away from your breasts before kneeling down and slinging one of your legs over his shoulder. Wasting no time, his tongue harshly flicks your clit, making you cry out because of the sudden contact.

“Oh, Hee!” you moan as you find yourself holding onto his hair for dear life. I can’t believe the ace student who acted all prim and proper was so hungry for my pussy. “Oh, you feel so good!”

“Oh, do I?” Heeseung taunts, sliding two fingers in you, tongue not leaving your already sensitive clit. “My little whore can’t get enough of me, huh?”

“Ah, yes, Hee—”

“That's not my name.” he interrupts. you felt the sting in your ass from his slap as he pumps his fingers in a shocking speed, leaving your tongue. He then stands back up and pulls you into a sloppy kiss, almost whining as he tasted the cherry lip balm that he so wanted to taste again, this time, on your lips.

“Yes, sir.” you whimper as his kisses go down your neck. “I can't get enough of you. I want to—ah!”

“Say that again, you naughty girl.” he murmurs. You didn’t know it, but you were making his confidence grow bigger by every second, just like his dick. He clicks his tongue. “Use your words, slut.”

“Sir, I want to come!”, you almost scream as you hold onto his shoulders. “I'm so close… please, I want to come all around you, sir.”

“And you are so going to.” he pulls his fingers from inside you, making you whine at the loss of contact, then pushing them into his mouth to taste your arousal. He hums in satisfaction, gazing at you with lustful eyes. You looked so fucking beautiful in front of him—swollen lips, bedhead, breasts filled with hickeys, and pussy almost dripping wet as he bore his stare deeper. You wanted to be fucked here and now.

Heeseung pins you onto the nearest wall he could find and strips all of your clothing off, throwing them on the floor. His towel soon follows, revealing his hard and aching cock that was so ready to fill you up. Your mouth almost waters at the sight, but he then holds you by the chin, making you look up at him, and him only.

“I don’t want to push you into something you’re not okay with.” he assures, voice laced with concern as he stroked your head. I still have a reputation to keep, after all. “You can tell me to stop whenever you want me to.”

“But I want this, though.” you reply, bucking your hips against his dick to get some friction, which he responds to by hooking your leg onto his waist, getting ready to enter you.

“Good, now let me make you feel good.” he nods, slowly pushing himself inside your wet cunt.

***

A week has already passed since Heeseung had fucked your brains out in the showers, and you have never spoken to anyone about it. It's not like you didn’t have a good time—you really did, but for some reason, you felt like you’ve tainted someone’s innocence even if Heeseung himself was comfortable with it. He moved like he had prior experience, yet you were pretty sure it was because of porn. Still, you can’t help but think that he might be cursing you for barging into the showers and turning him on.

You slump your head on the cafeteria table, frustrated as hell. “I don’t understand.” you whine out. “I shouldn't be feeling this way.”

“Well, if you look on the bright side and not act like chicken shit,” Sunghoon pipes in as he chews on his sandwich. “it might help.”

“Does he hate me?” you grumble, head still on your hands, not wanting to face Sunghoon who was probably laughing at you right now. What did I just get myself into?

As a silent psychological warfare happens in your head, you remember the pact that you’ve made with Heeseung after having sex with him in the showers. It was the first time you've had a proper conversation with him, and the way he spoke to you was nowhere near the way he did as he rammed himself inside of you.

“I’m curious about something, you know.” you mutter, watching Heeseung silently change into his tracksuit. The way his muscles flexed whenever he moved was something you found hot, not to mention his plump and breathtaking ass.

“What is it?” the lad replies as he shimmied into his shirt, stealing a glance at you. from a few meters away, You sat on the bench, and he couldn't help but notice how and where you were looking at him. The hoodie you wore made you look so tiny, along with the way your hair frames your face. cute.

“Have you ever thought about submitting?”

Heeseung looks at you with a puzzle expression, not exactly understanding what you’ve just said. You reply to him by lifting your brows, waiting for his answer.

“I don't… really know what you mean by 'submitting’. it can have different meanings, you know?” Heeseung blabbered on, taking a seat beside you.

The space in between your bodies was dangerously close, your shoulders were about to touch. He looked at you with his usual “meh” face, except without his glasses. “You might be talking about school projects, papers, or even sex,” he whispered, his face getting dangerously close to yours. His breath that reeked of mint fans your face, and his doe eyes met your lidded ones. “You want me to sub?”

You immediately shake your head, afraid that he might get the wrong idea. “No, i was expecting a yes or no for an answer—”

“Shush, let me speak.” he places a finger on your lips to interrupt. “I'll do it with you. But on one condition.”

Flustered, you gently pick up his hand and pull it away from your lips. “F-fine, then.” Lee Heeseung wants to be submissive? “What condition?”

You sit up almost immediately after your small flashback, and grab the nearest person next to you—Sunghoon. You grab your best friend’s face and do something that you never thought you’d do in your whole life—kissing him. You close your eyes tight to ease the secondhand embarrassment, but after just ten seconds, you pull away from him, not bothering to look back.

Sunghoon, still taken aback, scowls at you in complete confusion. With mouth agape, he stares at you in shock. “What the fuck are you on, Y/N?”

“Hoon… it’s about Heeseung.” you mutter, clenching your fists in embarrassment. Shame, shame, shame. “I made a deal with him, I, I'm sorry.”

“It's fine, it’s fine.” he reassures, tapping your shoulder. “Tell me all about it.”

You draw out a long sigh, face glum as you prepare to tell Sunghoon about yours and Heeseung’s deal. “Okay, so here’s the thing. After me and him did it, we basically—”

You stop in your tracks as your phone vibrates from inside your skirt pocket. Assuming that it was an emergency message, you immediately fish it out and unlock the screen, only to see the notification that reads:

hee (13:34) you win. </3 fuck, how did u?

“If you successfully make me jealous within a week,” he suggests, tugging on your hoodie gently. “I'll let you do whatever you want with me, mommy.”

***

You had no idea how you found yourself sitting on a swivel chair in a small apartment bedroom that wasn’t even yours, but you were loving the scene unfolding in front of you.

You try to suppress a dreamy whine in your mouth as your eyes fix on the poor lad kneeling in front of you. The way heeseung’s sweat glistened on his skin, fringe stuck on his forehead, lips swollen and agape—it fucking turned you on. He whimpers desperately despite the tightness around his neck, wanting to be touched by you so bad. He was nervous at first, but once you’ve tied his wrists up and leashed him, the shyness has gone poof.

“Now how am I supposed to satisfy you when you’re such a noisy, whiny bitch?” you fake sympathy, manspreading in front of him with your lace panties on display. Fuck, I want to eat her out.

“Stubborn boys don’t easily get what they want, so if you obey Mommy,” you yank the chain links of his leash harshly, almost getting dragged towards you. “Maybe I can reward you.”

He can only nod at your statement. His breaths are ragged and his hardness was starting to ache. Suppressing his moans, he bites his lip in frustration, telling himself to endure it for a little longer.

“Now, you dirty little boy,” you tilt his chin upward, making him look at you. Noticing his misty-eyed expression, your expression slightly relaxes, but not too obvious for him to see. “What's our safe word?”

“C-cherry.” Heeseung whimpers out. He personally loved the one you picked out, for it reminded you of your very first encounter. It also became his most favorite flavor from that moment.

“Attabot.” you smirk, chain still in your hand. “Lay on your back.”

Heeseung obliges, laying himself flat on the bed, still being guided by the chain. You let out a hearty chuckle, scrutinizing his frustrated expression, The hickeys you’ve put all over his body, and the precum peeking from the tip of his cock. Oh, he looks so fuckable and punishable.

Without a word, you saunter to the foot of the bed, bending over to touch his sensitive cock, to which he shakily whines. “Mommy…” he sighed. “Please touch me, mommy.”

“What did I tell you, whore?” you seeth, slapping his erect cock. His cries fill your ears as you stroked him slowly, teasing him as you went. “You only speak when Mommy says so, right?”

“Want you to make me cum.”

“What the fuck are you so stubborn for?” you retract your hand from his length, tuning on the vibrator that was stuck in your free hand for long and pressing it on his ass. “Didn't I tell you to wait, huh?”

Whimpers turn into cries as you thrusted the small vibrator in and out of his tight hole, and you can only laugh in satisfaction at the way he was practically desperate to be touched by you.

“Ah! I'm so sorry, Mommy!” he shouted desperately in defense as you turned up the intensity of the vibrator. “Won't do it again, please, Mommy! Stop!”

You don't cease, but you latch your mouth on his cock, fervently sucking on him. You can only moan against his length as you go, feeling yourself getting wet as well. No matter how you wanted to be touched and pleasured, you had to assert dominance. Stick to the pact.

“Mommy, I'm so close!” Heeseung wails, his elbows making thudding sounds against the mattress. his toes curled up as you licked all over his tip. He had to wait before he could release all over your face and he hated it. Fuck, he so hated it.

“Now, come all over me.” you command before enveloping his cock with your mouth again, closing your eyes as you wait for him to release in your throat. With a few pumps, he cums inside your mouth, moaning loudly as he did so.

The lad sighs in relief as he makes his release, slightly relaxing his tensed muscles. You swallow, turning the vibrator off and retracting it from his ass.

“We're not done yet.” you remarked, crawling on the bed until you were parallel on top of him. “I'm giving you a chance to show me what a good boy you are. Understand?”

“Yes, Mommy.” he desperately nods, feeling the sting of the silk tie that was restraining his hands. “I'll be your good boy.”

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you grin as you strip yourself off of your bra and panties, revealing your naked body to him. His cock twitches at the sight of the slight bounce of your breasts and the wetness of your pussy. “Aww, my baby boy’s so eager for me.”

You sink into his cock, your moans filling the room at the same time. He felt thick as he stretched your walls, and the constant twitching of his tip didn’t help you, either. You marvel at the sight of him—so small and so submissive under your authority. You never thought it’d come to this, but you were enjoying every single bit of it.

Noticing his wincing expression, you messily untie his wrists, rubbing the marks that the tie left. Of course, you weren’t going to go all harsh on him, and he loved that about you.

You slowly rock your hips against his, letting his hands find your thighs and touch wherever he reaches. “You feel so, so good, baby boy.” you mewl, propping a hand on his chest. “Only for me.”

“Only for Mommy.” Heeseung echoes as he weakly squeezes your hips, weakly meeting your thrusts. “I like you, Mommy.”

“Oh, I fucking do, too!” you nod, not fazed by his sudden confession.

He almost squeals in joy knowing that you felt the same towards him just as he felt about you. You grin as you see his smile, eventually giving in and pressing your body onto his as you bounced on him slowly. Through lidded eyes, he saw how you beamed and in his eyes, You looked so beautiful in your current state. In pure euphoria, he throws his head back as your lips kiss all over his chest, leaving some hickeys on your way.

You yank the chains to pull him closer to you, letting him kiss you, letting him taste the cherry lip balm that you never stopped using. You laugh against his lips, feeling for his neck. You then press your thumb and middle finger on the sides of his throat, making him feel a little bit lightheaded, but not asphyxiated.

The way he bucks his hips against yours let you know that he was about to reach his high again, and you kiss his tear-stained face as you both reach your highs—you clenching all over him and him filling you up with his cum.

Heeseung feels like seeing stars as he feels the tight sensation all over him, holding onto your ass as you milked all of his release.

After you have ridden out your highs, you loosen your fingers on his neck and unleashed him, feeling very euphoric as you both catch your breaths.

The room was filled with silence as the two of you stared at each other’s fucked out faces, breaking into peals of laughter after a second or two. You lazily press a kiss on his lips again, to which he returned ever so lovingly.

"Did I hear you right?” heeseung whispered, sliding a finger along your spine. He stares at you with his doe eyes, and you feel your heart break a little. You nod, propping your arms onto the mattress to be able to get a clearer view of him. “You really do like me?”

“Well, why the fuck would I make you jealous by kissing Sunghoon, then?” you giggle, making his expression glum as he remembers how he saw you kiss your best friend. “You're one of a kind, hee. I’d like to get to know you more.”

With your words, his heart flutters. Never did he think that he’d fall into one’s trap after telling himself that he will never take interest in someone all these years. He pulls you in for a kiss again, not bothering to pull out just yet. You feel his heartbeat on your fingertips as he holds you close and tight, lips still moving rhythmically with yours.

From there, he promised himself that he would go through hell and high water for you.

notes: AAAAAAAAAAA this is for all my sub!heeseung hoes who love seeing the gentle giant fold 🤩 fun fact: this actually got plagiarized in ao3 as a heejake fic and i was scared for my life (i have the rights to my fic idk why i was anxious that time, maybe bc it was my first time getting my fic plagiarized?) anyway, this is also an old fic of mine way back in 2021. hope you enjoy, luvies!

NSFW TAGLIST [OPEN]: @thots4hee @jaylaxies @ddeonuism @jojayke @vernonluvs-archived @puphee @forjongseong @jaeyunsz @muffinminnie @shu-ramyeonz @poutyjaeyun @fairy-junseong @duolingofanaccount @polalvsjy @taetaemylovie @heetro @yizhoutv @lavhikaru @kaislinging-slasher01 @cha0thicpisces @en-archv @simplewonderland @exactlygreatcoffee @lhseth @aerinaga @xwonniex @celeste-hoon @ajayke @enhastolemyheart (send an ask or a dm to be added!)

#fics: cherry kisses #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen heeseung smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung #heeseung #heeseung fluff #enhypen lee heeseung fluff #enhypen hard hours

560 notes · View notes

matenrou-fan · 1 year

Note

Could you do beel going down to his fem s/o please? I’m in love with your writing!

Beel going down to his fem! darling

ahhh thank you, you such a sweetheart <3 here you are ~

femreader, overstimulation, mention of crempie;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

-Despite his not being that experienced in naughty things, you would have a great experience with him.

-I mean, come on, this man loves to eat and all plates after him are so clean as he tries to savor every last crumb. So of course he would send you to heaven with such deft tongue. Beel has a skill, but he just needs to direct this energy in another way..

-Long but fast and hot licks, as he can't pull away from your cunt even for a moment, even to make a sigh as your flavor is just so addicting. His movements quickly become really sloppy, as he just can't control himself, sucking and licking in thirst for more of your juices.

-He didn't talk that much during this, as his mouth was too busy with your trembling folds, maybe just a few small comments about how great you taste.

"Mm.. s/o.. It's so good.." - his voice shaking, so quiet but passionate, more like a low growl of a hungry predator. He breathed heavily, looking at his little trembling prey for a moment, and just now noticing how beautiful you look, with those dim half closed eyes, unfocused and full of lust, with those cheeks, so red like a raspberry pie.. Beel was surprisingly pleased with how much you also enjoyed that, as he was a little bit ashamed of himself for being so out of control and greedy.. But it looks like he can continue..?

-Your pussy is now his favorite dish. Lucifer is probably amazed why every time Beel stays overnight in your room the fridge stays full the next morning. Everyone gets used to the fact that half of the products are missing after Beel's midnight snack, as no one knows that now, when he wakes up in the middle of night, he doesn't smell the food from the kitchen.

-Sweet scent of your hair, of your perfume that you were using in the evening, and this soft delicious smell of your body itself.. This is the only thing he feels as he's already under blankets, almost tearing apart your panties and pressing his drooling tongue to your tasty folds.

-You wake up just to see him eating you out with such pure bliss on his face, Beel is still half asleep and you can't even stop him… Yes, Lucifer always asks you to prevent him from eating everything from the fridge but nothing in this goddamn fridge was as delicious as your trembling wet folds so there's no way Beel will let you go before you cum at least two or three times. Only after that he would calm down a little and fall asleep again, without any memory of it while you are trying to catch your breath, your clit still pulsing from such a pleasurable force.

-So yeah, he's a sucker for your juices, always would lick every drop, pushing his tongue inside you as deep as he can, enjoying the way your hot walls clenched around him.

-Of course he bites too. All your thighs now in hickeys and small bites as Beel just can't control this urge to taste you a little bit more, your soft skin just so yummy.. It's both from his hunger and from a strange wish to mark you as his property. He is always a little bit protective and jealous when it's about something that he really likes, so he wants everyone to know that you already have a loyal man who is always ready to please you.

-Sometimes Beel gets so carried away he can't even hear you or anything around, his hands holding your thighs so tightly as he lifts your hips up so only your upper back and head are on the mattress, mouth glued to your pussy as he licks deep inside you. You can try to struggle or squirm as much as you want, Beel is too buff so you will not escape this greedy tongue as he keeps pressing his tongue to your clit with such passion and neediness like he didn't eat or drink for several days.

-Don't like any teasing as he's too addicted to your flavor and no less needy than you are. But you always end up being overstimulated after, as he can't let you take a break from him until he will satisfy his hunger. And by this time your clit is so sensitive, throbbing from every move of his tongue, burning sensation between your thighs keep increasing as you quickly reach your next climax. Your voice starts to be husky from all these deep moans, your pussy pulsing as Beel sucking your cum with groans, happy that you give him some more..

-You can grab and pull his hair but he would only enjoy that, it's kinda tickling him but your arms are too weak now to actually hurt him, so no, you will not stop him with that, maybe only spark his passion even more.

-It's like, you know.. when you have dinner and turn away for a second just to notice that your pet is trying to steal something from your plate. You will never pull this small piece from their mouth as they bite it with all their strength like if all their lives depend on this. The same story about dogs and random things that they find on the floor and don't want to let go. And the same story with Beel and your pussy as he just doesn't want to lose even a second when he has a chance to get down to you.

-If you're too tired after this, he would be glad to just cuddle with you or bring a glass of water so you will calm down. After all, he is no less pleased than you are now, looking at you with such loving and caring gaze, you have never seen him so fed up and satisfied, even after parties in Demon Lord's Castle.

-But if you want some more, be ready for sloppy fast sex, as Beel can't control himself now. He is always trying to be gentle and careful as he is afraid to break you with his size and length, but your pussy feels so good after he eats you out. He holds you tightly, deep groans tickling your ear and send shivers down your spine right to your core, making you clench around his twitching dick even more.

-"S/o.. You always feel so good.. Please.. Please, can I cum inside, please.." - he always becomes so whiny, almost begging as nothing feels as good as your pulsing hot cunt, every time you squeeze his cock with your walls it feels like you are almost sucking him inside you even more. Don't your pussy also want him to cum inside, to be filled? You keep clenching around him so hard it's hurt to thrust in you, aren't you asking for it?

-Can't say that he likes risk and everything, but he definitely went down on you in the living room and library several times just because it was too hard to resist sudden urge. Beel never knows how to control his bottomless stomach and now he also doesn't know how to control his mouth that starts watering everytime he sees you in a skirt, especially if you wear only socks, not stockings, and your soft delicious skin on thighs is open for him.

-Oh yes. And of course in the kitchen too when you try to prevent him from eating Asmo's donuts or Mammon's tarts. Well, if he can't have food he would quench his hunger with something else, so now instead of plates with dishes you are the one meal that is being served on a table for him to enjoy.

-It's hard to control your voice as he is even more greedy than usual, probably because the only view of your pussy makes him starve. Also he's a little bit angry that you interrupted his dinner so he would eat you out for a long time today, as his hunger slowly turned into thirst, Beel needs more of this sweet nectar of yours..

-"Mm, no.. I'm not finished yet.." - he growls when you try to pull him away, grasping to his red hair. His gaze, so obsessed and wild, makes you shiver, as you never see him like that before. Despite Beel being so wild and ravenous when he goes down to you, today he looks even more feral, with such deep husky breath and passionate burning eyes. But you can't help but enjoy that possessive side of him, feeling as your pussy starts throbbing more under his hungry gaze.

-Your strength was only enough for a small weak whisper, as you asked him to at least move to your room that was near the kitchen. Without a second thought he grabs you, caring in the privacy of your room and locking the door behind him so no one would interrupt him again, from his main, favorite dish, that was already so wet and juicy just for him..

#obey me #obey me x you #lucifer obey me smut #obey me imagines #obey me beel x you #beelzebub obey me #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x mc #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub smut #beel smut #obey me beel x reader #obey me beel smut #obey me beel #beel obey me

778 notes · View notes

thecreelhouse · 4 months

Text

part time soulmate, full time problem

Paring: Gator Tillman x Alt Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns) || MDNI! 18+ for eventual smut

Summary:

After leaving the Midwest years ago, you finally make the choice to visit home for the holidays. What’s meant to be a quiet, boring Christmas with your family turns into being snowed in with your ex-best friend, now enemy and absolute pain in the ass, Gator Tillman.

It’s only 3 days. How bad can 3 days be with an ex-friend?

———

CW/Tags: angst, toxic banter, language, mentions of drunk driving, mentions of death/loss, Gator being an absolute fucking moron

Word count: 2.5k

Series Masterlist / Read on AO3

Day 1

When you agreed to come home for the holidays, you didn’t anticipate it to be very eventful. Just a week with your family… and not much else. After all, what the hell else was around in Stark County, North Dakota?

Minutes after being picked up from the airport, your father had no issue letting you know some plans changed, that it wouldn’t be such a quiet holiday break at home, on account of … “business”. You never asked when he vaguely called last minute periods of time away from home to do god knows what “business”.

Doing “business” meant he was up to no good, though. You knew that much. You also knew that usually involved that insufferable Roy Tillman, and that usually meant—

“Hey, freak.”

Unfortunately, you’d know that god awful, nasally Midwest accent, doused in cockiness, with a hint of some terrible excuse of a cowboy twang in the tone, anywhere. You whip around from the trunk of your dad’s car, eyes rolling from muscle memory at the sight of Gator.

Fucking Gator Tillman. Professional douche bag, absolute unjustified asshole, persistent pain in society’s ass, and the ultimate bane of your existence.

“Piss off, Gator.” You’re rummaging through the trunk, pulling a suitcase and backpack out before letting them tumble onto the snow covered driveway.

“Can’t. I kinda live here, remember?”

“Didn’t you move out yet?”

“Well- okay, yeah, but—“

“So, you don’t live here, technically.”

His jaw set, annoyed, following it up with a dead stare and his stupid fucking vape, blowing the flavored vapor right in your face. At least it smelled sweet. Still, you stuck your tongue out with a grimace.

Nearly anything could get under Gator’s skin. That’s your entertainment for the next three days. That’s it. How fucking depressing.

Might as well enjoy what you’ve got, though.

“Whatever, you gon’ lemme help ya’ or not?” Gator reaches for your backpack, but you kick it away from him. He looks even more annoyed now.

“Nope, take my suitcase, bet your daddy reminded you to be a real man before we got here. Ain’t that why you’re babysitting me?” Your words dripped with repulsion, already fed up with the misogynist mindset still thriving out here.

Both of your fathers always took their wives on these “business” trips, but the two of you were always left behind. Gator always made a scene about not going with his dad, but that was always met with the order of watching over you, keeping you safe. All because you’re a woman.

“Thought that’s why you moved out east, ain’t it?” Gator mocks you as he yanks the suitcase handle up and out before dragging it toward the house.

“There’s plenty of reasons, and you’re one of ‘em.” You follow behind him, backpack slung on one shoulder.

Gator stops, throwing a cocky smirk over his shoulder, “I’m honored, princess.”

These will be the longest three days of my life.

——

The two of you were left alone almost immediately after arriving, with your father reminding you in a sweet, yet condescending tone to make dinner every night as a ‘thank you’ to Gator for ‘protectin’ ya’’. Gator, of course, smirked at that, while you forced a smile as you bit your tongue.

Playing nice until they leave the property, you immediately drop the act with an exhausted sigh, flopping onto the couch.

“Hey, aren’t ya’ gonna do what your dad said?” Gator asks expectantly. You glare over at him through jet lagged eyes.

“Gator, you’re a grown ass man, learn how to make yourself something other than goddamn cereal.” You flip him off, and again you’re under his skin. “Not like you even have a girlfriend to take care of you, so remind me, how the hell do you survive on your own? That vape don’t count as food, y’know.”

“You’re lucky I gotta be nice,” He mumbles as the best comeback he could think of. “Y’move out east for a few years and suddenly you’ve got all the nerve in the world.”

“Yep, it’s amazing when you move to a city where misogyny and the whole ‘men are superior, women exist to serve’ mindset ain’t welcome. You should try leaving the state some time, you might learn something good for once.”

He looks offended, fists clenching a bit as he sits opposite from you. “I’ve left before—“

“Other than neighboring Midwest states, I mean.”

Gator falls quiet before taking a drag from his vape, his go-to response when he really doesn’t have one. Jesus, he looks like a douche.

“Whatever, I’m happy here.” It’s almost comical how he says it in the most bothered tone, brows knit together as he glares at you. “You coulda’ been happy here too.”

It’s your turn to deflect and dodge poorly; you slam your hands on the couch as a push to get up. “Alright, we’re done here. Keep out of my way, I’ll keep out of yours. The house is big enough, anyway. If you need me— which, you won’t— text me. I’ll hang in the guest room, so you won’t have to worry about what trouble I could get into.”

While you pull your bags upstairs, you hear the front door whine open and slam shut, then a distant roar of an engine coming to life. Wheels crunch loudly on the snow— everything is easy to hear out here. It’s so flat and… hollow.

As you get settled in the guest room, you start wondering if coming home for Christmas was even worth it at all.

Because that’s all the Midwest was to you, and will ever be. Hollow.

———

It’s dark out when Gator gets back; you fell asleep at some point, and what woke you up was the front door slamming wide open, along with some stumbling around.

Sighing, you knew what happened. The predictable situation was always disappointing, but not surprising.

Gator wasn’t an alcoholic, as far as you knew and remembered, at least. He did like to dive into a bottle when he was pissed, though. And that was more often than not.

… Okay, so maybe he did have some kind of issue with alcohol, but you weren’t going to label it, just stay out of his way.

Then, a thump echoes through the house, along with glass breaking. Another expectant sigh leaves you; you push off the bed and head downstairs to check out the commotion.

A lamp in the living room is smashed, off to a great start. Your eyes wander for a moment before you spot Gator shuffling out of the kitchen with a dustpan and brush, nearly kneeling into the broken glass scattered across the old hardwood floors.

“Gator, hey, don’t—“ He yells out as his knees are prickled with glass and ceramic shards. Too late. You carefully tip toe around the sharp pieces in your slippers to reach him.

Gator stands, leaving behind the dustpan, wincing and murmuring a “Fucking Christ”.

“You’re lucky your daddy ain’t home, he’d definitely kill ya�� f’that one.” You’re still sleepy, but manage to hold an arm out for him to balance on. Confused, he glances down, then glances back at you. “Oh my god— Gator, lean on me, idiot.”

He reels back a bit, bottom lip curling downward in annoyance. He slurs, “I don’ need your help.”

You hold your hands up, “Fine, deal with this on your own, asshole.”

You turn to cautiously maneuver back to the stairs, but his hand grasps your wrist, tugging you back in place. You hold your other arm out to keep your balance.

“M’sorry.” Gator mumbles, almost too quiet for you to hear, but you catch it.

“Couch, now.” You roll your eyes with your arm back out, and he leans on you reluctantly. You guide him as carefully as possible, helping him rest slowly. He murmurs some obscenities as his knees bend, blood patching through on the fabric from the glass and ceramic shards.

“Can you stay like that? You can rest against the couch just- just don’t move your legs or lay down, ‘kay?” He nods, face flushed from drinking.

It doesn’t take you long to find rubbing alcohol and a pair of tweezers in the medicine cabinet, but as you return, you see Gator bent over his knees, trying to haphazardly pick the glass out.

“Gator, up.” Your voice startles him, and with eyes wide, he sits back up. “Don’t make it worse.”

You quickly push what’s on the coffee table aside to sit on it, facing Gator. He forces a laugh, but it’s pretty deadpan. “Don’t I always make everything worse?”

Sighing, you position yourself to begin plucking the shards out. “Not answering that one.”

With the removal of each piece, Gator winces and hisses, a few times throwing his head back over the pain.

“You’re gonna hate it when I gotta clean the wounds.” You state, watching blood dribble from some of the open, now clear wounds.

“Don’t use tha’ shit.” He groans, head coming back up to grimace at the sight of blood.

“You’re a cop—“

“Deputy-“

“Whatever. Don’t you see blood often? Shit, you work for your dad, you definitely see blood often.”

He grits his teeth. “Shut up, you dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You want me to stop helping? Because I don’t have to be doing this right now.”

Gator huffs, but he quiets down. The quiet doesn’t last long, though.

“When d’ya get those?” He’s pointing to your left arm, covered in tattoos, now slightly bare as your hoodie slumps off your shoulder.

You continue to tend to his wounds as you answer, “Started this sleeve shortly after movin’. Wanted to celebrate owning my life again.” The latter half of the sentence quiets down out of embarrassment; your life should’ve belonged to you this entire time, but you almost feel guilty for admitting how it previously felt.

Gator’s quiet for a few moments, eyes studying the art on your skin. “They’re … nice.”

You snort, breaking your focus to look up at him. “You don’t have to force yourself to be nice, Gator. You can tell me how you really feel. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

He shakes his head, almost childishly, “No, really. They’re pretty. They suit you.”

“Not ending that with ‘freak’? Color me shocked.”

“Can’t be mean when you’re the one holdin’ them sharp ass tweezers.” He’s only half joking, but it still earns a smile from you.

The smile drops quickly; you realize some shards are tiny, and you can’t get through the fabric of his pants to pull them out.

“Uh… Gator… you’re gonna laugh at me for sayin’ this, but you, uh, you gotta take your pants off.” You rush out the words, hoping he won’t hang onto them too long.

Even drunk, this doesn’t get past Gator. He smirks; Jesus Christ you can’t stand that smirk. It’s almost… cute, with how flushed his face is.

Ew, god, no. The fuck’s my problem?

“What’s the magic word, princess?”

You toss the tweezers aside and get up, “Okay, good luck! I’m going back to bed.”

Gator grabs your legs, strong hands clutching your thighs tightly, and you have to ignore the heat rising to your face.

“I’m kiddin’ I promise!” He tries playing it off, but his voice is pleading with you to stay. You sigh your annoyance out, kind of taking pity on him.

“One more smart-ass word or move and you’re stuck with this glass in your knees forever.”

Gator nods, beginning to stand up, but falling back onto the couch from the pain in his knees.

“Idiot, I didn’t say you had to get up.” You sit back down on the table, waiting for him to unbutton his pants. He doesn’t. “Gator, I ain’t doin’ all the work here.”

“Fine.” He undoes the button and zipper before shimmying his pants down his legs and— god, when did his legs get so muscular? He was so lanky last you saw him.

“Babe, I ain’t doin’ all the work here.” Gator mocks, pants rolled down just above his knees.

You’ll give him that one, let it slide; you were definitely staring, and you weren’t about to get in a debate about the way you ogled at his legs.

“Sit still, they can’t just come off, it’ll dig some of the glass in further. Okay? Sit still, Gator.”

“I am!”

He was, you’re just nervous he’ll do something stupid. You’re also nervous to be this close to him with his pants halfway off.

“I can do it,” He mumbles, reaching to pull them down. He’s quicker than you, surprisingly, even while drunk, but of course, what you warned would happen, happens.

“Fuckin’ moron, I said sit. Still.”

He blushes at your order, pulling his hands back to let you do the job safely.

It takes a few minutes, but slowly, you’re able to remove the fabric from his knees. You let his pants pool around his boots, trying your hardest to focus on his wounds.

“Call me ‘babe’ again and I’m gonna deck ya’.” You murmur, working on the near-microscopic shards in his skin. “How’d this break anyway?”

You knew the answer, but you wanted to hear him admit it, even though the truth would infuriate you.

Gator has no problem telling you, though. “Too drunk, forgot the lamp’s there.”

Alright, he confirmed it.

Inhaling slowly to calm yourself, you ask, “You drove home drunk?”

“I didn’t have another way home.”

Angry, you yank a shard out without compassion; he hisses from the pain.

“You could’ve called me.”

“You don’t have a car here.”

“You could’ve called an Uber.”

He scoffs with a playful smile, as if this is all a silly mistake. “Like that exists out here.”

“Asshole, you could’ve killed someone.” You’re trying your best to focus on finishing this up, but you just want to stab the tweezers into his leg instead. Somehow, you hold your actions back, but not your tongue. “You remember what happened to my baby sister, huh?”

Gator remembers. How could he forget? How your sister barely had her license when the accident took her? How you began to withdraw from life, distancing yourself from everyone—

“I could fuckin’ strangle you right now, Gator.” You’re biting back tears, roughly plucking shards out. He takes the pain, he knows he deserves it. “And we both know your daddy would get you out of a DUI if it came to it.”

He sits silent, face losing color. This got dark, fast, and he was too intoxicated to even think about the consequences. But no amount of alcohol in his system would keep him from realizing he really hurt you.

“I ain’t forgivin’ you for this one.”

“I don’ expect ya’ to.”

You finish helping Gator’s wounds sloppily, throwing the bottle of rubbing alcohol at him. “I got most of ‘em out. Clean your own wounds, scumbag.”

Gator can’t bring himself to respond, look at you, or move to try and clean the cuts. You quickly sweep up the mess before dumping it into the trash and silently heading up to bed.

Gator doesn’t leave the couch that night.

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman smut #my fics #part time soulmate full time problem

103 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Text

I've been dreaming of the Rose-Red Ruler.

Happy birthday, our most beloved Queen of Hearts.

May your smile be like a never fading flower.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

A soft knock is at his door.

Riddle tears away from his current textbook--a volume of advanced potions, open to Recipe for Happiness. On the list of ingredients were faith, trust, a little pixie dust, and...

"Come in," he calls, letting the contents of the book fall from his memory.

His mother enters, bearing a tray with a tall pitcher and a glass. As usual, her hair is pulled back into a tight bun and she is dressed impeccably: a scarlet pantsuit, heels, black lace gloves, and a necklace drawn tight across her neck, creating the illusion of beading blood. Mrs. Rosehearts gives her son a stern yet warm smile.

"Happy birthday, Riddle. You're still studying, even on your big day?"

"Yes, mother. This will be the year I apply for internships, so I cannot afford to slack off in my studies. I want to ensure I am the strongest possible candidate for the law and medical internships I'm interested in."

She nods approvingly, setting the tray upon his desk. "It's good to be thinking about your future now--but be sure to take breaks when appropriate. I've brought you some Darjeeling, first flush. Its light and delicate flavor is perfectly refreshing for a sweltering day."

Mrs. Rosehearts starts to pour the chilled tea for him. Right as the aromatic, golden brown stream ceases, she lets out a small gasp. "Ah, yes--your schedule is open tonight, correct? Your father will be fetching a strawberry tart on his way home from work, and I've prepared all your favorite foods. You can eat as much as you like!"

Riddle's stomach flutters.

There are so many things wrong with what she has said, but he exclaims the first question to emerge in his mind.

"We're having a celebration? Together?"

"Of course we are. It's your birthday," his mom replies plainly. "Why wouldn't we celebrate our special little boy?"

"I... I don't know," Riddle confesses. For reasons he cannot explain, his head suddenly feels foggy. "I just can't recall the last time we did something like this as a family."

You've never seemed happy with one another.

He does not dare say it out loud.

Mrs. Rosehearts carefully regards her child.

"Certainly, your father and I have very busy schedules on account of our work at the hospital. You've immersed yourself in your schoolwork. It can be difficult making plans that align with all three of us--but we make time to spend with our loved ones."

Mrs. Rosehearts leans down and plants a feathery kiss on his head, a hand lovingly stroking his hair. So soft, so tender. She smells of roses on a bed of vanilla and amber, the same heady comfort as the exhilaration of collapsing, out of breath, after spinning in circles in the summertime.

The frantic thudding in Riddle's chest slows. He leans into her touch, her fragrance.

"Okay," he says quietly. A slight wetness prickles his vision. "I think... I'd really like that, mom."

He stays there, in her embrace, for longer than he thinks he should. The minutes are slipping away from him, but Riddle cannot bring himself to pull away. The cradle of roses is enchanting, spilling wool over his eyes.

He is completely, utterly, certifiably entranced.

Ding-dong!

Mrs. Rosehearts lifts her head. "Hm? That's strange. That can't be your father. He doesn't get out of work for at least another hour--and he wouldn't need to ring the doorbell, he has his keys."

"It is odd," Riddle agrees.

"Excuse me, it will take just a moment to check. Perhaps it's the mailman."

Mrs. Rosehearts gathers herself and departs. From the study, Riddle can hear the front door swinging open, followed by muffled chatter. Excited, boyish.

His mother's voice, raising.

Dread fills him.

He abruptly stands, his chair harshly skidding back with an unpleasant whine.

Riddle races into the hallway and to the foyer. He's not sure which is faster: his heart, or his feet? His mind struggles to catch up, to process everything--

The front door is ajar.

His mother, on one side. And on the other...

Two young men.

One with short hair in dark green and bright yellow eyes peering out from behind thick frames. He holds a hefty cake in his hands--a shortcake iced in whipped cream frosting. The strawberries piled on top shine like forbidden jewels.

Beside him is a boy with choppy bangs, a pair of feline ears bearing a plethora of earrings pokes out from his head. He has a lazy grin and disheveled clothes, reclining like a sunbathing cat against the first visitor.

His friends spot him before his mom does, and their faces light up.

"Uh-oh, guess the cat's out of the bag now," Che'nya giggles.

"Wh-What are you two doing here?!" Riddle demands. Not angry, but fearful. He nervously glances at Trey--Trey, whom his mother had angrily banished from their home until the end of time.

"We wanted to drop by and surprise you," Trey explains. He's too calm for this situation--especially when Mrs. Rosehearts is standing right there.

Any minute now, Riddle suspects she will explode. She will scream at Trey and Che'nya until she is a darker red than her hair. She will slam the door in their faces. She will threaten to call the police. She will--

"Riddle, you didn't tell me your friends would be joining us this evening!" Mrs. Rosehearts beams, stepping aside and waving for the boys to enter. "Please, come in! You can spend some time together before dinner.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Myaaa-uch appreciated!”

Trey and Che’nya cross the threshold with ease.

Riddle blinks. “But what about my studies…?”

“Studies? At a time like this?” Trey gives a light laugh. “We’re not at school, Riddle. You can relax a little. Just let me put this cake away and then we can all hang out, okay?”

“My father is already going to be bringing a tart later…”

“Oooh, double the desserts? Don’t mind if I do! I’ll swipe two slices of both.”

“Don’t be greedy, Che’nya! You have to save some for the rest of us, especially the birthday boy.”

“Me?” Riddle’s brows crease. “I…”

“It’s fine,” his mother coaxes. “Go and be with your friends.”

“Is that okay? Is that… really, really okay?”

Mrs. Rosehearts steps toward him, taking his hands in hers. Her eyes are dewey, and her face looks more gentle than he has ever seen it.

“Yes. This is your youth, Riddle. You only live once—so live this life to its fullest. If you could promise me that, then nothing would make me happier.”

“Mother…!”

Riddle tugs her into a hug. It is fast, it is fleeting, it is a flicker of light peeking through a keyhole. He opens that locked door and emerges on the other end.

He chokes out his response.

Two simple words, carrying all his hopes and dreams.

“I promise.”

And for the first time in forever, he smiles with all of his heart.

But beyond the happy boy, cheeks streaked with tears, beyond the door that divided him from the world... a shadow hides in the shade of a rose tree.

It looks on, and smiles too.

"... It appears as though Rosehearts has have found his happily ever after at long last, fufu. How wonderful.”

138 notes · View notes

ascendingtostardust · 4 months

Text

Help You Remember

(Sam Kiszka x f!reader)

wc: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of food/eating, mentions of poor memory - let me know if I missed anything!

When it came down to it, Sam was a creature of habit. Of course he liked to be spontaneous and off-the-cuff on occasion, but he found himself in falling into a familiar rhythm day-to-day when he had some time off from working. That meant that you also stepped into those routines that comprised your daily life together.

You don’t know when exactly it happened, but at some point over the last few months you and Sam had become regulars at a little bakery down the street from your home. Every Monday and Friday mornings before the morning rush, the employees at Snookums came to expect the two of you just as they finished putting the last tray of morning muffins in the case. It had become customary for you and Sam to always choose something different than you had picked out the previous visit “to keep life exciting,” Sam had said.

Their flavors of muffins, danishes, rolls, and loaves rotated weekly, which only highlighted your indecisiveness and poor memory as you stood peering through the glass case to figure out what treat you were going to choose for the day. Ever the patient partner, Sam would wait as long as you needed to come to a decision with nothing more than a simple “you did say you were in the mood for lemon last night and look! Lemon muffins today!”

After your first few trips to the bakery, you couldn’t help but be apologetic about how long it took you to decide what you wanted when Sam made a choice less than 30 seconds after glancing at his options. He wasn’t like previous partners or friends who got frustrated with your struggle to make decisions for yourself or your memory issues on occasion. He waited by your side, thumb brushing over the top of your hand as he asked the employees how their morning was going.

Today was no different than previous trips to Snookums, however you knew that the two of you would have to hurry home to meet one of Sam’s friends who was dropping off seedlings for his garden. The smell of warm baked goods filled your lungs and brought a sense of calm to your busy mind as you stepped into the bakery and immediately took in your muffin options.

Chocolate chip hazelnut, blueberry crumb, banana nut, and triple chocolate.

Greeting the two employees with a smile and a quick hello, you mulled over your decision and felt Sam come to stand slightly behind you, wrapping an arm around your lower back as he hummed softly.

“What can I grab for you, Sam?” one of the regular Friday morning workers, Jenna, asked, knowing that Sam always made his mind up rather quickly.

“Hmmmm….” After another look at the glass case, Sam’s gaze turned to you. “You know what, Jenna, I’m going to let my girl pick hers out first today.”

It was hard not to crack a smile in response to the goofy grin he gave you, silently encouraging you. You had to make a decision, and fast.

“I’ll have a hazelnut chocolate chip, please.” Smiling at Jenna and thanking her as she put your muffin in a light pink box, you turn to Sam.

“I’ve never tried that one before but it sounds good, right?” You say quietly, leaning into his side.

“Sounds delicious, actually!” He responds, giving you a quick peck on the forehead before ordering a banana nut muffin for himself.

“Ooo banana nut, one of my favorites!” You say to him as the two of you follow Jenna down the counter to the register. Sam responded with a sweet smile and squeeze of your hand before letting go to grab his wallet from his back pocket.

On the walk home, it didn’t take long for you to reach into the small box containing your treats and pull a small piece of your muffin from the side of the rounded top. The excitement of trying something new quickly faded the more you chewed and realized that the flavor wasn’t exactly what you expected. With a hum, you close the box and continue walking, though you can feel Sam studying your face without being too obvious.

“Was it good, lovey?” He said finally, reaching to take the box from your hand and cradle it in one of his own arms.

“Um,” you started, trying not to sound too disappointed, “it was okay! Everything they make is good, so…” You let your voice trail off and the sight of your shared home came into view.

Walking up the few steps to the front door, you began mentally going through what ingredients you had to possibly make your own muffins to make up for the one that wasn’t quite your taste.

Once inside, you began looking through your cabinets for the typical baking essentials, feeling Sam lean up against the counter next to you a moment later.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He said, quickly looking around jokingly to make sure no one else would hear his confession, though it was just the two of you in your home.

Onto his antics, you giggle and decide to play along, turning your head to face your ear towards him and leaning in close. He bent slightly and leaned in so close that you could feel his lips ghost over the shell of your ear.

“You tried the hazelnut chocolate chip muffin a few weeks ago and didn’t like it,” he whispered. You turn your head to look at him, eyes wide with the realization that you had, in fact, tried that flavor at the end of last month. It was all coming back to you.

“I finished it for you and found it quite delicious, so when you picked that one again I knew we needed a backup!” He grabbed the pink box from its resting place on the counter and opened it, taking the untouched banana nut muffin out and placing it on a small plate he had set out. Sliding it towards you, he reached his hand out to squeeze your shoulder lightly.

“Now…what are we thinking drink-wise? Coffee? Milk? Tea?” He moved around you to open the fridge, peering at any other potential options.

“I love you.” You said, turning to face him as he stands in front of the open fridge, already grinning when he meets your gaze.

“Oh yeah? Well I love you more, lovey.” He lets the refrigerator door swing shut quietly as he reaches out to pull you close to his chest, moving his palm in circular motions between your shoulder blades.

“As much as I would love to hold you all day, we do need to decide on what to drink with our breakfast so we can take this party outside and enjoy the sun a little before the day really starts!”

You let your head fall back, “umm okay, let me think for a minute…”

“Take all the time you need.”

#this is completely self indulgent but I hope you enjoy anywayssss #I hope this makes sense pls be nice to me thank you #sam kiszka #sam kiszka fic #gvf

57 notes · View notes

thebottomfromhell · 6 months

Note

What the demon kids do when their parent reader when he is not feeling well ? İ really liked your parent figure reader

This one I will make it GN, you have also asked me by chat to make one of Mother reader, but that one I will leave it for later.

To keep the GN terms, the kids will be calling Reader "Oya", which means "either mother or father" or "both mother and father" depending on the context.

GN parent Human Reader get's sick and is taken care by their demon kid

Warnings: Mentioned cannibalism, Emeto (not in a kinky way, obviously), Other gross content related to bwing sick.

Daki (ft. Gyutaro):

"OOOONIIIIIIIIII-CHAAAAAAAAAN" Daki screams at the top of her lungs. Your head already hurted bad enough, to the point you keep you eyes close, the light of the district is too intense, just like the cold (but it's mid summer). You can hear Gyutaro groan as he gets out of Daki's back, the sound of flesh forming and streching being as gross as the flavor in your mouth. Your stomach contracts, you forced yourself to eat normaly before coming and now you are regreting it. You can feel the phlegm and some acid pieces of what you ate at your throat. "SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH MY OYA! HE IS RED AMD TREMBLING!" You can feel the older brother's hand in your face, feeling a pleasant cold against your skin. That is weird, Daki is the cold one, Gyutaro has always felt too hot before.

""Your aya" is sick. Ne. Piece of shit! Why are you worrying my sister, ne?! If you are sick you should have stayed in bed!" You want to say that you are fine, but the pain and content in your throat don't let you. Of course you would get sick. You were fine enough when you left home, besides the lack of appetite. Still, that is coming back to you, you throw up, making Gyutaro back down to not get himself dirty, at least not more as some barf reaches his pants as he was kneeling before you. "EEEWWWW!" Daki reacts a lot more than him, who just looks a bit disgusted before actually hiving orders to her. "Take Y/N to our room to lie down. Get tea, a lot of tea, and some incense too. I will clean myself, find things to re-stock and see if I cat get medicine or shit." She does as told, getting you into some beddings, letting yourself cover up. She knows how to boil a good tea, that is part of her job, she sometimes also uses incese when some clients just smell awful, so she can do that too.

The air is hot, also the drink, but it helps a little. Still, you are very tired, you want to sleep, but Daki stops you. "No! Onii-chan said you needed a lot of tea! You only had a cup! Drink the whole keetle!" She orders before serving you more, fully trusting her brother's choice. You obey as she keeps helping you drink, kneeling besides you, moving crawling in a rather childish way. "Will you be ok?" She asks worried, still not letting you sleep, not knowing if she is supposed to. She never took care of anyone like this, never had to since Gyutaro was the one who helped her when she got sick, not the other way around.

You use your energy to keep your eyes open and smile to her as she reach your hand and presses it against her cheek, thankfully you already finished a small keetle. "I will be fine, Daki. I promise, I just need to sleep." Even the hoarse tone in your voice is painful, but she nods, not letting your hand go, as she watches over you. She won't let anything happen to you.

Kaigaku:

Kaigaku still remembers how it feels to be sick, is a very alive memory, as if it was yesterday. But yestarday he was a demon, just like today, and so he can't get sick. He is still getting used to that idea, but you? You are a human, you can get sick. You are sick. "You are an idiot, you oya." He says as he puts a piece of cloth he just cooled down with father in your forehead as he doesn't let you get out of bed. Kaigaku has a fair idea of what to do when someone is sick, he has seen the adults on the temple take care of other children, and more often than not some were asked to help taking care of the younger kids.

As you might guess, he hates doing this, taking care of others. In his eyes it was always a waste of time, one can barely survive on their own and everyone else wants them to think about some other. Really, he never allowed anyone to see him vulnerable, unless it was what he needed to survive, but besides that... he had pride, ambitions, he wantes to rise from where he started, and so he never let anyone take care of him when he was sick. Kaigaku wonders if he would having met you before being turned into a demon. "We don't have medicine, you will have to sleep and sweat this off." He says as he rubs gently the piece of cloth, it heated up too fast for his liking, making him scoff.

"Thank you.... for taking care of me." You tell Kaigaku in a weak and tired voice, so far he has been doing a good job with it, which thank goodness. You might just pass out, your throat is irritated, your eyelids heavy, and everything is too hot and cold at the same time, fluids in your body make it hard to breath and your head just feels as if something burning was preassuring into dizziness and sting. The kid is not only showing he cares by nurturing you this time, but he is putting an effort, which you refuse to leave unnoticed. He stops himself for some seconds.

Nobody has ever thanked him before for doing this things, noticed the discomfort or effort he put, treated it as if it was "his responsibility to the others, since he is older and has been through the same situation". It's nice... to not be taken for granted. You are nice to him in general, the only adult that cared for him not because he cares about orphan children in general, but cares about Kaigaku.... "Just rest for now, I will take care of the rest." That was what it took for him to care too, and that is enough. You do as he tells you, trusting that you will neither feel better when you wake up... or feel worse but be in middle of healing, still, both are good.

Zohakuten:

Ok, Zohakuten is not panicking, of course not. He is the strongest form of Uppermoon 4, the mix of the four clones and the best protector the main body will ever have! Of course he can deal with anything! "Fu- uuuuuurgh..... I feel like I will pass out....." Except now you are throwing up, skin red and trembling violently. THE FUCK IS ZOHAKUTEN SUPPOSED TO DO?! He never took care of anything that is not the main body, and that was only killing those humans who hunted him down, taking advantage of his smaller size! The cowardice! The evil!

"Wait. Wait. Don't pass out here. Don't...." he stops talking to back off the second you start to gag, clearly wanting to throw up. Really, what is he supposed to do?! He has never been sick! He is a demon! And he has never been around anyone sick! He has no idea what to do! "Can... can you hold it up? Just for me to take you home?" He asks looking around, as if someone or something would tell him the information he needs or calm him down. You nod, feeling both stomach and throat contracting in acid and heat, already smelling the vomit. It's disgusting, but your whole body feels disgusting as it's sweaty and snotty, without adding how tired you feel.

Zohakuten uses his drums, playing in the lowest volume he can as he commands his wooden dragons to bring you both home. To your home, where you should be able to rest. Rest will heal this, right? Maybe eating something? Demons always heal faster after eating, but he feels is not the case as a sudden movement makes you ho to the edge of the dragon and throw up whatever you ate the last. Not for the first time Zohakuten wishes he could physically meet the rest of the clones, to have someone to guide him. You have taken up that rol, but now you are not in position to tell him how to take care of this. "Oya...."

He grabs you in his arms once you botth arrive, helping you into the beddings. "I will bring some tea. Please stay awake." It takes him a while as he goes back to the kitchen as he remembers to add more water, to filter the leaves and to boil the water, but he manages to bring some tea. "Tha-thank you..." damn, it hurt to speak, but you still smile at the kid. He looks at you a bit sad. "Sorry... I'm not good at this." You spend the rest of the time awake comforting him, until you do pass out because of the headache and tiredness. It seems Zohakuten got creative you did, because you woke up with a kidnapped doctor taking care of you... you'll talk to the kid once you feel better, not before, so he gets out without being scolded this time. This. Time.

#demon slayer #kny #upper moons #zohakuten #daki #kaigaku #gyutaro

55 notes · View notes

windslar · 4 days

Text

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag

A set of 20 questions to get to know your oc! I was tagged by @matchalovertrait and @simmenycricket. thank you so much! since we're days away from starting his generation, i'm going to be doing this with Reuben in mind.

What uncommon/common fear do they have? Contrary to popular belief, Reuben is not scared of death and is actually quite fascinated by it. He is fearful though of his own mind and how it's wired to undervalue his own life and reality. He's so hyper-aware of how life is so fleeting and arbitrary that it's pushed him toward understanding the concept of mortality (and exploring the possibility that immortality might be out there in some other supernatural realm). So, to answer the question without getting too deep into it, Reuben's big fear is his own brain.

Do they have any pet peeves? People who say "no offense" because they almost always mean full offense.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? His phone, a record player, a dusty old book.

What do they notice first in a person? Reuben notices body language and eye contact first. He is very intuitive and can glean how comfortable people are in a situation, and he usually finds the least comfortable looking person and tries to keep them company.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? Emotional pain? 8/10. Physical pain? he may be a rancher's son, but he's a baby -- 4/10.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Under pressure, Reuben goes into flight and retreat and hide out in his room mode. But recent events involving an ex-boyfriend who shall not be named have made him more resilient. He's got a little more fight in him now than he did as a teenager.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? He grew up mostly raised by his mom, but his dad has always been present in his life. He'd say he's close to both of them. While he was in high school, his parents had a surprise pregnancy so he has a much, much younger brother.

What animal represents them best? A cat for the introspection and for being deeply perceptive. Or a humpback whale -- for the introversion and the appreciation for music.

What is a smell that they dislike? Reuben doesn't really like floral scents like lilies or carnations because they remind him too much of childhood memories of accompanying his mom to the funeral home.

Have they broken any bones? One time, he climbed the windmill at their ranch and he fell and broke his arm. And no broken bones, but he did get a nasty bruise on his behind after he fell off Maple.

How would a stranger likely describe them? Some would say softboi; others would say babygirl.

Are they a night owl or a morning bird? Night owl, which is exactly why he needs to get out of the ranch and its squealing-goat wake up calls.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? Growing up with a professional chef as his mom opened Reuben's palate to a lot of good food. He's always been an easy eater, but a flavor he hates is liver. He can't stand the texture! As for a flavor he loves, it's garlic!

Do they have any hobbies? Playing the piano and reading vampire tomes and fantasy novels. He also swam in high school although he was no star athlete like his mom was.

Boom, surprise birthday party!How do they react to surprises? He would be so appreciative to the person who threw the party (either his mom or his best friend, Winona). He would probably hate being the centre of attention though. But he'll put on a brave face and try his best to make sure everyone is having a good time.

Do they like to wear jewelry? Yes, and I think more now that he's gotten older. He likes to layer silver necklaces. He's also thinking of getting some piercings... and perhaps some ink? Who knows.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting? Legible but messy. A little bit like his handwriting stopped improving in the 3rd grade.

What are two emotions they feel the most? Existential sadness and teenage angst.

Do they have a favorite fabric? Comfy, breathable cotton. Brushed plaid shirts. A vintage leather jacket.

What kind of accent do they have? Chestnut Ridge is in the southwest and people from that area typically don't have a strong southern accent like those from Willow Creek. That being said, compared to almost everywhere else, people from C.R. have a slight twang and a touch of that southern drawl. Reuben will probably say he doesn't have an accent, but someone from the city will definitely say he does.

I tag @wrixie, @dustbon, @natolesims, @druidberries, and @stefsimz. Please feel free to ignore 😊

#tjolc extras #oc tags #oc tag game

42 notes · View notes

ruhorih4ra · 9 months

Text

╰⁠(⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠ᗜ⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠)⁠➝ Part. 6

I have a feeling I just reused a scene from another of my ffs, that's because my brain it's lazy af JASJAJ please feign dementia for me ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

Get out of my way 🌈

“Hmm! You've to try this, it's delicious!” Beelzebub looked at you with an expression you couldn't read. Was it yearn? affection? Love? A mix of all? “Why are you looking at me like that?” You kept eating the giant dessert.

It was an exuberant one, the demon lord’s castle made of different kinds of ice cream, just for the two of you.

“Here.” Beel lifted your chin and wiped some ice cream from the corner of your lips, he licked it happily. “You're right! It's delicious!” You blushed almost instantly, not a cute soft blush but something more violent and clearly noticeable.

“I must look like a tomato.” Beelzebub laughed and closed his eyes for a brief fraction of time, tilting his head as if trying to see the similarities.

You didn't know how or when, but he was already by your side. Next thing you knew, Beel was kissing you. His lips were soft and sweet against yours. It felt so real, the smell of candy mixed with something sweeter that you couldn’t pinpoint “No. I would say you taste like cherry.”

Sometimes memories come back in the form of dreams. This was the case, you knew it was a dream but it had happened. Your heart ached knowing that your little oasis was ending.

“Mc, let's do this again! I love eating with you, I love you!” He smiled and you felt at peace, you had the ridiculous idea that maybe you could trap this moment in a bottle.

“Promise me we will.” As soon as you tried to control it, the dream began to fade. This wasn't part of what had happened, at that moment, you hadn't had the need for a promise.

“Beelzebub, promise!” The urge you felt to hear those words was absurd, even more since you knew it was a dream. But you needed it, desperately, you wanted to live that false reality.

You didn't want to remember how Beel started going to eat with Sc instead of you. How he would bring you food as a consolation prize.

“Promise me, please!!” You felt tears streaming down your face, were they real? Beelzebub’s face started to blur and his voice sounded far away. “Mc, don't cry, I prom-”

You woke up gasping for air, you felt sweaty and restless. There was a prominent and growing feeling of hunger. You hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, the fight with Lucifer had sent you straight to your room.

Even if they had offered you something before, you couldn't have eaten it. Now things were different, you felt so hungry that it was actually painful.

“It's quite late, they must be asleep by now, Right? You! Go and check!!” “Why me?! I just got here!!” You took the Little D. of Wrath from one of his horns. “Do it, NOW!” The mirror cracked and your eyes glowed with a furious neon green. “At your orders, MC!!”

While the Little D. went to check, the other little demons looked at you from some distance, clearly gossiping about your bad attitude and mood swings. “The coast is clear!” You immediately went to the kitchen, your stomach roaring quite similar to Beelzebub's.

You opened the fridge, taking the first edible thing that caught your eye. “Delicious. Finally, some good fucking food.” “That's just a piece of cheese, human.”

You took a neatly prepared plate, it was protected with plastic and a note that said: "To Mc, we are sorry. Please eat something." You fell to your knees, removing the plastic and eating with your hands.

The need to consume grew with each bite you took. The more you thought about the brothers… “Don't be disgusting, use a fork.” “No.” It was delicious, you recognized the flavors of your favorite dish. It brought tears to your eyes, but also an incredible great feeling of sadness.

“They think they can apologize with a simple act of care.” You sobbed, discarding the plate and taking a pie instead. The pie had a note attached “Property of Satan. Beel, don't eat it or else...” “Screw you, Satan.” You saw a single elegantly decorated pink muffin. It tasted wonderful. “Hmm, fumckium Amsmo!”

Comically, a glowing poison apple appeared in front of you, you could have sworn a choir of angels was heard. “Okay, okay, I get it. Divine punishment, but yeah I can't eat this, it would literally kill me.” “I'll take it.” You shrugged, whatever to piss Lucifer off. “Okay.”

You saw Sc's baked bread, it looked really good but your stomach had already arrived to its limit. “I think I'll pass.” “Give it to me!!” “Finee!” You passed the bread to the Little D. of Gluttony and... wait, what?

You turned to see the Little D. so fast your neck actually ached. The tiny demon was raiding the fridge, whistling happily.

Your jaw was hanging, surprise clearly written on your face. “No, no, no!! The last one arrived just some hours ago! Why are YOU here!?!” “Don't blame us for your sins!!” “No, no, no. This is bad, absolutely bad.”

There were already four of them, the story didn't mention the time but you had a hunch they hadn't shown so soon.

Not even two days had passed since it all started! “Stop!! You're going to empty the fridge!!” “I'm still hungry!!” You bit your lips, panic taking a hold on you. Without much determination and more resignation, you sat on the floor. “What am I going to do now?!?”

A single tear rolled down your face, you were tired, anxious, worried and alone. Your head fell into your hands as you shook it. “God, I took care of your grown up children, please take care of me too!”

“Hahaha, You're so funny, Mc.” Your heart stopped for a moment. That voice, a calming yet alarming voice. Swallowing, very slowly, you lifted your head from your hands. Your eyes following the voice until they landed on a wide smile.

“Hi, a pleasure to finally meet you! Well, we had already met... But now you can actually see me!!” You blinked twice, painfully slow. “Hahaha, oh please forgive me! I'll start again.”

The beautiful lady in front of you smiled and offered you a hand.

“Hello, I'm Lilith!”

Pt. 8! ಠ⁠‿⁠ಠ

Taglist: @yuumaofc @sc4ry4l3x @kodasstar

Thanks for reading! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me mc #obey me fandom #obey me gn!reader #obey me angst #obey me beelzebub #obey me fluff #JAJAJA pues así que tú digas cuánto fluff pues no #Obey me Lilith #obey me little d

88 notes · View notes

finn-m-corvex · 6 months

Text

Whumptober Day 29: Scented Candle

Day 29! This one was definitely one that I had to bend a little bit, but I still think I did a good job given how clunky the prompt can be. And I think I got some decent angst out of it but I'll let you all be the judge of that!

Taglist: @splinnters @abigailxoxo @tornoleander @mondothebombo @ghostwalloper @toastingpencils37 @lightning-chicken

Words: 2.1k

The smell was the first thing that Jay noticed when he stepped into the store.

It was overwhelming, and Jay didn’t know if that was because of his sharper senses or if it really was just that strong. No one else seemed to be affected by it, so he kept his mouth shut and continued walking into the Bath and Body Works, hand in hand with Nya.

Nya was taking a big risk by going in here with her perfume allergy, but she thought that it was worth it to try and get some decent-smelling candles. They finally had an actual building for a house for the first time in years, and everyone was sick of smelling Wu’s incense all the time, so the Ninja collectively put their foot down and decided to get some stuff to try and make Yang’s Temple feel more like a home rather than a smelly church.

“What do you think?” she asked, holding up a pink strawberry candle. Jay sniffed, grimacing, and she was quick to put it back down. “Yeah, me neither. Let’s try some of these ones.”

“Are you sure? I thought you liked strawberries.”

“I do, but you need to like it too with how much time you’re going to be spending in my room.”

Blushing, Jay continued to follow her, watching as she skimmed through all of the fruity flavors that they had in stock. He knew that they were her favorite even if he couldn’t stand most of their smells, but they finally found an apple one that they could agree on. She plopped it into the basket, and finally it was time to look at all the smells that Jay would love.

He had been doing his damndest to stay on the side of the store away from all of the woody smells. Nya knew why, and he knew why, but the others didn’t. Cole kept shooting him weird looks over his shoulder, because as far as he knew, Jay still adored the smells of the outdoors.

Not anymore.

There was a small graham cracker candle that smelled heavenly, and Jay was quick to snatch it up and show it to Nya. It reminded him of the smores that he would make with his pa when he was little, the smoke curling into the sky as he burnt the hell out of the marshmallow because tha was the only way to eat a true smore. Maybe if he found a marshmallow candle and something chocolatey he would be able to make the ultimate smores candle.

“Honey, they have a smores candle right here,” Nya chuckled, holding it up.

“But then it’s not special,” Jay insisted, clutching the graham cracker candle to his chest as he scanned through the shelves, “and we need it to be special. Now help me find a marshmallow one.”

“If you say so.”

Cole eventually walked over to help, and Jay smelled a very vague whiff of perfume around his brother. Pushing Nya behind him in panic, Jay fixed Cole with a stern glare. “Dude!”

“What?”

“Perfume? Seriously? Nya is allergic!”

Rolling his eyes, the earth ninja held up his wrist. “Relax, Jay, it’s unscented.”

“Unscented my ass! I could smell you coming from three aisles over!”

Nya leaned around Jay and sniffed at Cole’s wrist, relaxing when it didn’t trigger any reaction. It actually smelled kinda nice. “I think your nose is too sensitive, it’s fine.”

Jay grumbled as they continued looking through the store stock; he had already come far too close to losing her permanently, so of course he was still going to be a bit overprotective. Anxiety buzzed in his chest, making its way up his hands and starting to make him shake. He swiftly put the candles down, not willing to pay for anything that he might drop. Maybe he was the one who shouldn’t be around perfume anymore.

Apparently, having vague thoughts about his girlfriend dying was enough to trigger memories of everything else.

Feeling his throat start to close up, Jay grabbed at Nya’s hand with a tight grip. He needed to get out of here. There were too many smells and too many colors and too much everything. “Nya—”

“Hey, Jay!” Kai exclaimed, and something was shoved under Jay’s nose. “Smell this one!”

Out of instinct Jay took a sniff, and he immediately gagged.

Sandalwood.

All of Nadakhan’s shit smelled like sandalwood.

The room smelled like sandalwood, and so did his stuff, and so did he—

Cole tried to catch him as Jay collapsed onto the ground, throwing himself backwards in an effort to get as far away from the candle as possible. Even just the smallest graze of his brother’s hands made Jay reel away, and there was the sound of glass shattering as he pulled himself up on one of the shelves. There was a stinging pain in his shin but he ignored it, also ignoring the smear of red along the floor as he finally figured his legs out and started making for the exit. Only the barest bit of self-restraint kept him from sprinting out of there like a madman, but he still looked mighty suspicious from his unsteady gait and the blood flowing down from his scraped knee. Hopefully everyone would just think he was some drunk looking for a place to sleep off the alcohol instead of one of the famed ninja breaking down.

No one else tried to stop him, but he could faintly hear them calling his name through the rush of blood in his ears. Rushing out of the store, Jay quickly made himself scarce in the crowd; for as loud as he could be, he always knew how to hide when he didn’t want to be found.

There were too many people. It was getting harder and harder to take a breath as he was jostled on both sides, and Jay knew that he was going to have to pull over in a minute. Before, the mall had never bothered him, and it even was a place that Jay was excited to go and visit. Malls never existed near the Sea of Sands, and seeing so many stores gathered in one place threw him for a loop when he visited for the first time as a small thirteen-year-old.

But what once felt like a lavish palace now felt like a prison.

There was a gap in the wall and Jay ducked into it, noticing that it was a small hallway leading to the bathrooms. At the end of the hall was an unlocked family restroom, and Jay could only hope and pray that nobody would need it for the next little bit because he definitely was not going to break down in a men’s public restroom if he could help it.

Lock clicking shut behind him, Jay curled on the floor with his cheek to the cool tile, letting it ground him as he did his best to ignore whatever thoughts he had about the hygiene in this place. Blood was dripping down his leg, and he cringed away from the feeling of it soaking into his sock. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard he clenched them into fists.

“You’re okay,” he whispered to himself, getting up off the floor and turning on the sink. He cupped his hands and splashed the cold water on his face, “you’re okay. Just need to breathe.”

He kept looking in the mirror, checking if anything was behind him even though he knew that he locked the door. Nadakhan didn’t need to use doors.

The smell of sandalwood was still clogging his nose, and Jay hurriedly reached for the small container of hand soap. Unscrewing the top, he shoved it under his nose and took a deep breath, trying to let the overwhelming smell of mint replace the offending smell so he could finally start to calm down.

Except the mint wasn’t doing shit.

He threw the bottle on the counter in frustration, and could only watch as it started spilling all over the counter. Hastily trying to clean it up, Jay kept exhaling forcefully through his nose to try and clear it, but nothing was working. Nothing was getting rid of it.

Pathetic. A famed hero of Ninjago who had faced down countless enemies, saved the world no less than five times, brought down to his knees by a fucking candle? Not just to his knees, but in a filthy public restroom in the middle of the Ninjago City Mall where anyone could come walking up and they would hear him crying.

Was he crying?

Yeah, he was crying, reaching up and feeling the tears on his cheeks. Jay grabbed a paper towel and wiped his face off, even though he knew that they would be replaced only a moment later. Wetting another paper towel under the sink, he figured it was finally time to try and clean out the cut on his shin.

Or multiple cuts, he realized as he looked down, and the familiar sight of blood staining his leg made him nauseous. Sitting down on his rear, Jay took a closer look, heart sinking when he realized that some of the glass shards were still in his leg. No wonder it was hurting so badly, but now that meant that he had to actually take the shards out.

Yippee.

Puting the paper towel back up on the counter, Jay reached for the first shard with a trembling hand. Tugging it out as gently as he could, he flinched from the fresh blood that flowed from the wound, and he dropped the shard on the floor from his surprise. There was too much blood and it was getting on his hands and it was dark and red and everywhere and First Master he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this.

A knock at the bathroom door. “Jay?”

“Nya?” Of course it was her, it was just Nya, not Nadakhan or his brothers or a stranger or anyone else to be worried about. “I’m in here.”

“I know, I followed your trail,” Nya said, and Jay hated how awful it made him feel to hear that civillians may have had to see his bloody trail left on the ground. Children may have had to see it. “Can I come in?”

Jay took a deep breath, pushing down his anxiety and getting up. “Yeah, hold on a sec.”

Flipping the lock over, Nya gave him a minute to back away from the door before opening it and making her way inside. She locked it behind her, which Jay was grateful for, and she knelt down next to where he had plopped down onto the floor. Caressing his cheek, she pecked him on the lips, and Jay felt the scent of vanilla wash over him; she must’ve put some on before coming to find him.

He buried his face in her hair when she leaned in for a hug, and Nya gently pressed her hand against the nape of his neck. “You okay?”

And he really wanted to lie, but he couldn’t find the energy to. “No.”

“What’s wrong?” Nya asked, and Jay tightened his hold around her. She was here, and she was breathing, and he was breathing, and that was everything that he could’ve asked for.

“There’s glass in my leg,” Jay said, swallowing thickly, “and I think I’m going to cry. I-Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Nya reassured, playing with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. Her hands were cool against his skin, and Jay craned his head forward to give her more access. “I’ll take care of the glass, but it’s definitely going to sting. Just tell me if I need to stop, alright?”

Jay nodded, and he tried to keep as still as possible as Nya slipped on her pair of spare rubber gloves. All of them always carried some on their persons, just in case anything were to happen out in public; you never know what sort of bodily fluids you would have to touch that day, and you did a lot of that in their line of work. He hid his face in the crook of her neck as she started pulling the shards out, quick and efficient but still gentle. Just like her.

Nya was humming some random tune that Jay picked up, and the sound was comforting to him in a way that the whirring of the air vents and the mall chatter outside never could be. The panic didn’t quite subside, and he doubted that it would until they finally made it home, but this? This was okay. He could deal with this.

“Thanks, Nya.”

“Don’t mention it. Next time though, tell me you need to leave before running out on me, okay?”

“No promises.”

#ninjago #ninjago jay #finn's writing #ninjago nya #whumptober day 29 #whumptober 2023

39 notes · View notes

jesuisici33 · 7 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut <3 some more vampire!buck feat. taylor kelly!

For once, Buck is glad he doesn’t need to pick up Christopher immediately after school. Instead it’s Chris’ time with Carla for a few hours before Buck needs to go back to the Diaz household and take care of him tonight.

It’s not that he doesn’t love Chris – he does with all his undead heart. More than Buck learns to realize. It’s just hard to look at Chris’ smiling face while he’s in Eddie’s house and Eddie’s not there. Hard to pretend to stay positive for his kid while not knowing how Eddie is doing in that hospital and he can’t visit him until he wakes up.

A little break in his loft where he doesn’t have to fake a smile is a nice relief.

He’s in the middle of taking off the stupid bullet vest when there’s a knock at his place. He must’ve been so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even hear the heartbeat now assaulting his ears from behind his front door. When he opens the door, he’s met with Taylor’s sympathetic face as she asks to come in.

“I wanted to see how you were doing since…everything.”

Buck could lie to her, however he’s been lying so much to everyone lately, it would be nice to be truly honest with someone. “I hate this. Bobby had to take my phone away because I kept waiting for Ana to tell me that he’s awake.”

Something flashes across Taylor’s face. If Buck is paying full attention, he might have been able to identify it. “I’m sorry, Buck. Are there any leads to who the sniper might be?”

He shakes his head. “I keep being told they’re working on it as fast as possible but-” Buck yawns, the day, the weeks, catching up to him. He’s barely had any blood since the shooting. Bobby noticed. In the morning he slides Buck’s preferred water bottle full of bagged blood towards him for breakfast. Then again during lunch and dinner when Buck can only manage a couple gulps. It’s only enough to get him through a couple days, yet not sustainable. Eventually Buck knows he’ll have to truly feed. Yet the idea of it brings up memories of Eddie’s splattered blood on his tongue, and Buck can’t do it.

The yawn causes Taylor to raise her eyebrows. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you yawn before. Are you sure you’re okay?” She grabs his face to get a better look at him. That’s when she notices his dark circles under the eyes, his more hollow cheeks, and his paler face. He rolls his eyes when she gasps in realization. “When was the last time you fed, Buck?”

“Taylor, it’s not that big of a deal-” She leaves him to go to his kitchen “-really, I’m fine-” he stops when he smells her blood. Glancing quickly over at her, she’s smirking triumphantly with a knife in one hand and a cut on her other wrist. Walking towards him, she offers her bloody wrist to him, her expression granting no argument to refuse.

“Drink.”

Taking her wrist, he hesitates before bringing it to her lips. Already he can feel his fangs out. Licking his tongue along the trail of blood, he tests it out. AB negative. He can remember the last time he’s had blood from someone who is AB negative. It was so long ago, he made himself slow down in drinking it so he can savor it. The flavor so sweet, almost addictive he wanted to keep that taste on his tongue for hours after he was done.

Taylor Kelly might just be his new favorite addiction after this.

Sinking his teeth in her wrist, he moans as her blood hits that back of his mouth. “That’s it, that’s a good boy. Drink as much as you need.” Buck whines at the praise she gives him. He could go on forever, except he knows he can’t. As much as he wants to keep going, Buck only takes enough that’s the equivalent of a blood donation. When he looks in Taylor’s eyes, they’re slightly glassy from the blood loss. Along with something else there. Despite Buck being the predator, he feels like he’s the prey in this scenario as he keeps staring in those eyes.

“Thanks. I think I have some food for you to help with the blood loss-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Taylor starts to leave when she turns back around. “Hey. If you ever need to feed again, you have my number.”

tagging @hippolotamus (cause i know you'll lose your mind at this) @eddiebabygirldiaz @thewolvesof1998 @forthewolves @apothecarose @mammameesh @monsterrae1 @spotsandsocks @loserdiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @callmenewbie @fortheloveofbuddie @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @pirrusstuff @wikiangela @your-catfish-friend @wandering-night19 @liminalmemories21 @rmd-writes @tyfinn @obsessedwithdavrick @mallpretzles @ramonaflow @carlos-in-glasses @folk-fae @wildlife4life @911-on-abc

48 notes · View notes

harlowsbby · 2 years

Note

okay idea 🌸

jack wants to cook dinner for you but he knows he's got a controversial culinary past so he asks your best friend for advice on what to cook for you, since he's trying to impress you and he ends up doing a pretty good job

My man the cook

“Wait so when you bake a cake do you have to use eggs?”

“I know you didn’t just ask me that I need you to be so for real right now.”

“Yas please I’m not playing I’m being so serious.”

Everyone knew Jack and the kitchen didn’t go together. Last time you let Jack cook you breakfast in bed he somehow managed to go through an entire loaf of bread because he burnt every single slice, let’s not even mention when he tried to make you dinner on Valentine’s Day.

He called up your friend Yasmin to try and get some help but the entire time she was laughing and making fun of Jack.

“Yas please I want this red velvet cake to come out perfect for Y/N and you keep laughing at me when I ask simple questions.”

The entire kitchen was covered in flour and egg shells and food coloring dye which Jack only prayed would come out of his white t-shirt.

“So look on the box and read over the instructions does it say add eggs?”

He scratched his head as he looked over the box and nodded his head slowly realizing he did indeed need two eggs, one cup of cooking oil and one stick of butter.

“It does”

“So pour all of that into a bowl and mix it together, I’m sure you can do that right?” Yasmin asked sarcastically, Jack glared at her and flipped her off before hanging up.

Jack’s tongue stuck out in concentration as he focused mixing all the ingredients in the bowl before pouring everything into the baking pan. He smiled at his good work before turning the oven to 350 degrees and setting a timer so he didn’t burn the cake this time.

After a few minutes the timer went off signaling Jack that the cake was done.

“This shit looks good I’m not even gonna lie.” He told himself and set the cake in the fridge to cool down after about 20 minutes he took the cake back out the fridge and frosted it with vanilla creme cheese flavored icing and nodded his head in approval.

“Jack? Are you home baby.” Your voice came from the living room. He quickly hid the cake behind him and turned around just in time to see you coming into the kitchen.

“Hi baby girl I missed you today.. how was work?” He spoke quickly, glaring at him you knew Jack was hiding something or either did something.

“What did you do? Did you burn something again because it smells like you’ve been making something.”

“Well I did make something and I made it special for you.”

“Is it edible? Will it send me to the hospital if I eat it? Because last time it took forever to pump my stomach out and I don’t want to relive that again Jack.” You both shivered at that vivid yet disturbing memory.

“Baby I’m being serious and yes it’s edible I called Yasmin for some help and it actually turned out good. So close your eyes and stop talking.” Lifting your hands to your face you covered your eyes, all your heard was Jack’s feet moving across the floor and the sounds of his laughter.

“Okay open.” Opening your eyes you gasped seeing a perfectly decorated red velvet cake in-front if you, which instantly brought tears to your eyes.

“Uh oh is it not good enough? Does it stink.. I’m sorry baby you don’t have to eat thi-.” You grabbed Jack by the back of his neck before pulling into you and smashing your lips onto his. He was a bit taken back but none the less he kissed you back before pulling away.

“So I take it that you like the cake?” He grinned and you pushed his chest softly.

“I love it Jack.”

“You wanna try it?” You smiled and nodded as Jack took your purse and placed it on the counter, he grabbed two plates and forks before cutting you both a slice of cake.

He watched intensely as you brought the piece of cake up to your lips before chewing it slowly.

“So how does it taste?”

“It taste.. actually this taste really good are you sure you didn’t buy this from the store?” He laughed and started eating his cake as well.

“I promise baby if you would’ve seen the way this kitchen looked earlier you would’ve known this didn’t come from no store.”

For the rest of the night the two of you spent the night snuggled on the couch in your matching Halloween pajamas from target and just feeding each other some cake.

thank you @softtcurse for letting me use your name 💗

taglist

@moody4world @babyharleezy

@heavyhitterheaux @lcandothisallday

@hoodharlow @harlowthot

@jacksmoviestar

@jackharloww

@minkookie95

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader

290 notes · View notes

skylarsblue · 2 years

Text

Random Slasher Headcanons

Michael Myers

Michael cannot stand peanut butter. He likes the smell of peanuts & peanut butter, but, the consistency is something he won’t allow. It sticks to his hands & the roof of his mouth and it makes him genuinely angry. He doesn’t mind candy with chunks of peanuts, but no peanut butter. None. Keep it away from him.

THIS MAN IS A DRUMMER AT HIS HEART. Listen, if he wasn’t a stabby stabby murder man, he’d be a fucking drummer. It would be a fantastic way to get out his anger. Now, he’d certainly break his sticks constantly, but he’s a metal drummer. You can pry this from my cold, pale hands.

Michael can’t read. Not like he lacks the ability, but he cannot stand to sit down and read a book. Not only does it always make him tired, but most books have too small of text. Large paragraphs make his head hurt. Reading itself just feels like a boring hassle. He perceives visual and audible stuff a lot easier than reading it. This means he always ignores written instructions.

Michael is not a good cook. We know this. HOWEVER. He can do sandwiches, boxed mac & cheese, and grilled cheese. And he makes a pretty damn good grilled cheese. Man loves his cheddar.

Jason Voorhees

Woodcarving! Jason does woodcarving. He gets bored out there, alone in the forest, no technology. Even if he has his rounds to do, he gets bored in leisure time. He’s gained a few hobbies but woodcarving is his favorite. He makes little sculptures for his mother. She seems to like the bird ones the best.

My man is super suited for the wild. He makes all his own traps! Even the bear traps he uses are tampered with, just so they hold people better. He’s really good at figuring out how to hide the traps as well. Jason is a hunter for sure.

Jason Voorhees is red-yellow colorblind. Why do I say this? Because I can, damnit. Does this affect anything? No, but it does mean he likes cooler tones a lot more. Which is why he dresses in blue, green, etc. frequently. Reds, oranges, and yellows tend to just look like dull greys & browns. Pamela also had this! It’s why her favorite color was baby blue.

Jason’s fear of water kind of fluctuates. It’s a PTSD thing. Some days, he can handle water fine. It’s not something he prefers but it doesn’t freak him out as much. At worst it makes him a bit uncomfortable. On other days though, he gets really scared by even the memories of being near water. It’s made worse by flashbacks or nightmares. It all depends on the day and recent events.

Brahms Heelshire

We all know Brahms is a whore for sugary sweet treats, but, on the other side of the coin? Mans cannot do spice. To any degree. He thinks too much pepper is spicy, and he will complain. So, if you like actual flavor in your food, I’m sorry. Either you’ll have to make him something separate or you’ll need to dial it back a lot.

Even in his childish moments, Brahms has a very wide & eccentric vocabulary. He’s dabbled in poetry & short stories before. He especially gets into the writing mood after reading a good book. Now, he’d rather die than show anyone what he’s written, but it’s actually pretty good. If he dabbled in it more he could probably pass as a well seasoned author. He gets a bit ramble-y sometimes, though.

Mans is an artist. You cannot tell me he hasn’t dabbled in water color, especially when his parents put him in the walls. I don’t think his parents would be too into the idea of him having a messy hobby. But, he’s a creative boy. Even if he prefers writing. Show him Bob Ross, he’ll be so relaxed.

Did someone say chronic back pain? He naturally bends down when roaming through the walls & he sits hunched over. Coming from a person who hunches over everything, back pain. Mans also has poppy joints. Like, every time he turns or moves something pops. Mostly his knees and back. His joints like doing a firecracker impression whenever he moves.

Bo Sinclair

I’ve mentioned this in his Fluff Alphabet, but I think Bo was taught to play the piano. Now that he’s older, the piano they own is all dusty in the attic, out of tune. When he was younger though, it was how he got out a lot of his emotions without actually bothering anyone. It was one of the few things he got praise for too. The fact he could make elegant melodies without needing notes on a sheet to guide him? Amazing! And no one notices the fact he was five seconds from a mental breakdown. …now he just, drinks a lot of beer and goes through at least three cigarettes a day.

Bo has very sensitive hearing. You’d think with all the music he blared as a teen or the shots from his shotgun would’ve harmed his eardrums, but no, oddly enough. Mister Sinclair can identify noises from like several yards away. It’s part of the reason hiding from him is so hard. He will hear you breathe.

At some point, since all three boys were put in foster care, Bo had to get a lot of teen jobs to work up as much money as possible. Not only to cover things he and his brother would need when they turned eighteen, but so he could also adopt Lester. Lester is, at least, 4+ years younger than Bo & Vincent. Bo knew that when he and Vincent were able to be independent, the state would still be in control of where Lester was. Bo may be an asshole, but he’ll never leave one of his brothers alone. So as soon as he turned eighteen, he insisted on being Lester’s legal guardian. Worked out, thankfully.

Some of y’all got it twisted thinking Vincent is the high maintenance brother. (I’m kidding, he is) Bo, though he’d never admit it, has an extensive self care routine. He hides it, of course. He doesn’t need people thinking he’s soft! Bo’s a bit vain, it’s how he counteracts a lot of his insecurities. He’s the pretty brother, it’s what he gets the most praise for, so he needs to stay the pretty brother. He doesn’t know what else he’d have otherwise.

Lester Sinclair

I know he has a dirty job, but I think it’d be absolutely hilarious if his home was actually pretty clean. Sure, it’d be decorated in animal skins & bones, but it’s not messy clutter. I think that him having the cleaner home in comparison to Bo & Vincent would be absolutely HILARIOUS.

I think he's actually a pretty decent cook. Lester makes godly fried chicken. He’s not necessarily a chef that’s good in all fields, but what he cooks he’s good at. These are things like omelets, fried chicken, gumbo, and cod fish. However, he has a bad habit of making everything spicy.

Despite appearing the most scrawny out of his brothers, he’s got a decent amount of strength. It just doesn’t show much on his body. He has a fast metabolism. It’s hard to put on muscle when you struggle to put on weight, especially when sometimes he forgets to eat, so he’s not doing well there either. Still, he can manage some heavy lifting fairly well. But what’s most surprising is his grip strength. He avoids handshakes because of it. Bo has told him about a million times that Lester could break someone’s fingers with his hands. Helps when he’s opening jars though.

Lester is a natural snuggler, because I said so. When he falls asleep he naturally hugs whatever is closest. Sometimes that’s a pillow, sometimes it’s Jonesy, and when he was younger it was Bo’s arm. Now, if he tries to sleep without something to hug, his arms will just be curled up to his chest all awkwardly. On top of that, if you put something near him when he’s asleep, he will eventually end up hugging it. Once he has it, it stays there until he wakes up.

Vincent Sinclair

Did someone say BACK PROBLEMS?! We all know the infamous “shrimp” pose done by millions of artist, and Vincent is no exception to this. He sits and hunches in the most awkward positions while working. Their back pops all the time. Bo hates it.

Vincent’s the doctor in Ambrose. While all three brothers have some first aid knowledge and a concept of human anatomy, Vincent is by far the most well versed. Anytime his brothers get hurt or sick beyond the point of where they can take care of themselves, they go to Vincent. He’s always ready to help them, even if he may be silently scolding them in his brain.

Vincent’s not the best cook whatsoever, but they manage a pretty decent breakfast. Lester is the best cook out of them all but they all have their specialties. Vincent’s is bacon, eggs, french toast, and pancakes. Anytime Vincent makes french toast, his brother’s come running. They’ll even fight over the last piece. Oh, he also makes great tea.

When they were younger, they had a caffeine addiction. Now he can’t handle it at all. It gives him the jitters and his heart goes all crazy. He also gets a bit sick. This is mostly the result of a bad experience. He drank three energy drinks in twenty minutes and his body did not handle it well, he got super sick. Now they won’t touch the stuff.

Thomas Hewitt

I think Thomas is capable of some speech, but it’s a bit of a struggle because, one, since he never spoke much his vocal chords just aren’t used to speaking. So they kind of hurt when he tries. And two, speech impediment trauma. (I used to have a struggle saying some words in school, for example, and those kids did not let me exist peacefully.)

Sometimes, if he is truly desperate enough for just a moment of quiet. A second where he’s not hearing the commotion of his home, he’ll go out to the little rickety barn they have. If someone, Hoyt, for example, comes out to call him out for being “lazy”, he can easily just act like he’s working. Then as soon as they leave he’ll go back to sitting in quiet. My man needs a break.

Mans loves pie. And I mean he loves pie. Adores it. His favorites are apple, blueberry, and mixed berries. But he’ll eat any kind of pie. Key-lime to pumpkin, he is a whore for pie.

Thomas is allergic to bees, so when they start coming around, he gets freaked out. It’s not like they got the stuff to care for him if he goes into shock from a bee sting. So, if a bee gets too close, this dude is sprinting. It’d be kinda funny to watch this giant running from a bee, but if it could literally kill me, I’d run too.

Bubba Sawyer

Snow White. Bubba is basically snow white. Animals absolutely love him. Everything from chickens, to cats, to bugs. They love him. Even if there was an animal that Bubba has never had experience with before, it’d love Bubba. Bears? Elk? Hawks? They love Bubba. Everyone loves Bubba.

Bubba knows how to square dance. He’s from Texas, they got the boots, they got the want to dance. I imagine they don’t get the chance much, because dancing alone isn’t very fun to him, but if he ever gets a partner to dance with? It’s waltzin’ time!

Something that they can’t do often, but adore doing, is baking. Bubba loves to bake! Their favorite thing to make is pie, muffins, & apple pie. It’s hard to get all the things to make these items, sugar being something he struggles the most to find, but it’s something he prides himself in. Even his brothers praise his baking skills.

Bubba owns dresses, but they can’t wear them very often. Nubbins is probably the most accepting of that part of fashion, even if he still pokes fun here & there. But Drayton & Chop-Top make the most fun of Bubba, to the point it hurts his feelings. But, if both Drayton & Chop-Top are gone, and ideally Nubbins, Bubba will do all his housework in one of his dresses. He likes the flowy ones, with light colors & floral patterns. They get a sense of euphoria from wearing it with an apron overtop. They get euphoric in some outfits with pants too, but dresses are special because they can’t wear them often.

#rob zombie michael myers #michael myers #jason voorhees #brahms heelshire #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #bubba sawyer #thomas hewitt #slasher community #slashers #slasher fucker #slasher x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #house of wax #halloween #Friday the 13th #the boy 2016

658 notes · View notes