Tumgik
#*turns back and forth in my chair nervously*
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Pardon me but
so erm (as some of you in the Discord have seen) I’ve made these little iron-on patches
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👉👈 Aaaand even though they’re a bit messy (I am but a mere hobbyist!) people in the discord seemed to like them so I’ve been thinking about putting a few up for sale on Etsy? So I guess I’d just like to gauge if there’s any interest!
:) In which case comments or tags (completely non-binding lol) to give me a rough idea of the consensus would be super appreciated!
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osaemu · 7 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ SHE GOT MY HEARTBEAT SKIPPIN' DOWN 16TH AVENUE! ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: he's always so confident and self-assured, but a couple kisses from you and he turns into a mess.
contents: fem!reader. kinda suggestive ending (inumaki's comment). you spend half the fic making out lolll anyways we love flustered gojo he's so precious <3 tagging @rinniessance and @rizsu to see streamer!gojo's latest shenanigans :3
author's note: this one was requested and i rly liked the idea sooo yea. i wrote it. shocking right?! anyways thank u guys for all the streamer!gojo requests, saves me the effort of having to think of plots ꨄ︎
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"baby, what time is it?" satoru mumbles against your lips, holding you in place on his lap. the two of you are seated on his plush chair in front of his computer, and you've been kissing like teenagers for the last... hour? or two?
satoru tilts his head in to kiss you again, soft lips gently pressing against yours for the thousandth time. his hands roam over your body, and one rests on your waist while the other reaches around you into your back pocket. his eyes flutter open when he feels your phone, and he turns his head briefly to sneak a glance at the time.
"shit, i gotta start the stream in two minutes," satoru mutters. he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and leans back, azure eyes drinking in your heated cheeks and fluttering eyes. a smug smile slowly grows on his lips as you look away. 
"aw, d'you want more?" he cooes, reaching out and touching the side of your face. satoru gently pushes your face back in his direction, moving his slender fingers to your chin and holding it in place. you're all sweet and flustered in the aftermath of your makeout session, and every time he sees you like this, another part of his heart surrenders itself to you.
you nod bashfully, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you feel satoru's grip on your chin tighten. he pulls you in for another long, minty kiss, and you feel him smile against your lips. his hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck as he hugs you against his chest, which rises and falls in sync with yours.
"you're so cute," he murmurs in between kisses, eyes flickering back and forth from you to the time. "c'mon, honey, we have a minu—"
you cut him off with another kiss, which catches him off guard—usually he's the one leaning in. but no, you had to take him by surprise and throw him off his game. the little hm? that slips out of his lips when you kiss him causes satoru to go redder than you've ever seen him. 
seeing satoru embarrassed is rare—he's so cocky and confident that embarrassment is basically unheard of, but in this moment, you've got him. he laughs nervously when you pull away, wide eyes looking everywhere but at you and your cheeky smile.
you reach up and grab his chin, tugging it in your direction the same way he did earlier. "you know exactly what you're doing," satoru mumbles, pulling you closer and burying his face into your neck. 
"i have no idea what you're talking about," you reply smugly, kissing the side of his face. "don't you have a stream to be starting soon?"
satoru looks up instantly and groans when he sees the time—it's a minute past his start time, and that could cost him a couple hundred viewers. you laugh as you hop off his lap and into his bed, curling up under his sheets as you watch him scramble to start the live. 
"love you, 'toru," you call, wrapping your arms around one of his pillows. 
after a second, he turns around, a loading sign on his screen. "love you too, baby," satoru replies, face still noticably red. you blow him a kiss and watch as he pretends to faint in an attempt to hide his childish grin.
a soft ding then signals him that he's about to be live, so satoru spins his chair around to face his computer. he forces his usual collected smile onto his face and starts, "hey, everyone. sorry for the delay, just got... held up with something."
inumaki: u look like a tomato LMAO
yuuji-itadori: yea ur really red, are u ok?
satoru looks away, mumbling something about how it's just the lighting that's making his face look red. naturally, everyone disagrees and starts speculating as to why he seems off his game today, and eventually, someone gets it.
megumi-fushiguro: he always looks like that everytime he sees his gf wdym
inumaki: WAIT THATS IT
inumaki: he was def doin unspeakable things with his gf just two seconds ago. trust
you can't suppress the small laugh that escapes your lips when satoru stumbles over his words at the comments, face redder than ever. "a-anyways, today i'm gonna— hold on," he cuts himself off by looking down at his phone, where a text notification from you had popped up.
love of my life: ur so cute :(
love of my life: but get ur shit together 
love of my life: im the only one who gets to see u like that (¬_¬)
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hysteria-things · 4 months
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Hii first of all i love your work, i have a request can you do a smut with chris and matt, like a threesome
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PURE ECSTASY (part two)
read part one here
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!dom!matt, pervert!dom!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve been feeling guilty for what you did, but you don’t have the balls to tell matt. one night, he shows up at your house… and he’s not alone.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, THREESOME, swearing, oral (female and male receiving), A LOT of degrading, some praising, p in v, cuck matt lol, spanking, daddy kink, sex tape, unprotected sex (nope!), hair gripping, ROUGH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,080
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: chris and matt are cocky asf in this and they’re a little mean🫣
honorable note: happy birthday @whatrulookingat11 🤭
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arguing bounces off the walls in the living room, the three boys bickering back and forth with each other. well, it’s mostly chris and matt.
there’s a high chance they don’t even know what the argument is about anymore because this has been going on for minutes.
“you’re so infuriating.” matt says sternly to chris, who’s scrolling on his phone with no care in the world.
“then don’t piss me off and i won’t be,” he replies, not bothering to look at his brother.
“you guys give me such a fucking headache.” nick butts it, getting up from the couch. “i’m going to go to my room and edit. don’t murder each other while i’m gone.”
he walks out, matt still ranting as chris blocks his voice out.
he opens his hidden album, tapping on the video of you and him. he smirks, cutting his brother off. “want to see something cool?”
matt’s words are cut off, and he stares blankly at chris. “what?”
“come look at this.”
he’s hesitant, but slowly lowers himself down next to his brother. chris sighs, turning his hand away from his face so he can show matt. he makes sure the volume is high, but not so high that nick can hear.
matt’s face turns to disgust, because why the fuck could chris be possibly showing him a sex tape. “why the fuck are you showing me this?”
chris smiles menacingly. “you’ll see.”
the video portrays chris’s point of view railing into you, your moans and squeals coming out of the phone speaker. then, the camera moves to a face. your face.
you’re completely wanton, his hand gripped tightly on the top of your head. “say hi to matt, ma.”
“mm— h-hi, matt,”
matt rips the phone out of chris’ hand, taking a closer look at if what he’s seeing isn’t a hallucination. chris loves the thrill of seeing matt’s face change from confusion to shock in a matter of milliseconds.
“this pussy’s fucking incredible. thanks for letting me use her, man.”
there’s no way he can watch the whole thing, so he throws the phone onto chris’s lap.
matt’s weirdly calm, emotionless even. “what… the hell did you do?”
“i fucked your bitch.”
he wasn’t kidding when he said that if matt pisses him off he’ll show him the video. chris always keeps his word.
placing your now empty bowl from dinner down, there’s a knock at your door. you look at the time, and it’s pretty late on a weekday.
you get up anyway, walking over to the front door and seeing none other than matt and chris standing there. “hey?” you question, feeling intimidated.
“can we come in?” matt asks, as chris just casually walks inside and makes himself at home.
matt shrugs, closing the door. you walk back to the living room, chris scanning his surroundings while matt takes a seat in the sofa chair.
he extends an arm, indicating for you to come sit on his lap.
“so, uh… what’s up?” you ask nervously, sitting down on him. chris walks in front of you guys, glancing up at matt.
“did you fuck chris?” he asks, getting straight to the point. your eyes widen.
shit.
“n-no.” you stammer. “why do you ask? that’s crazy.”
his hand travels down your body, lightly squeezing your breast before putting his hand down your pajama shorts. he pinches your clit, making you yelp.
“i’m going to ask you again.” he says, just as chris starts to get on his knees. “did. you. fuck. chris?”
“no!” you protest, chris slowly pulling down your shorts and panties.
“we got ourselves a liar,” he smirks.
“i-i didn’t—“ you get distracted once he starts to kiss your inner thighs.
he chuckles, his breath hitting your folds. “she’s wet already.”
matt starts to rub at your clit and you pout. “you’re going to make this way worse for yourself, baby. just admit it.” he tuts. “or maybe i need to show you instead.”
“i think you should.” chris sighs.
taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens his messages with chris and presses on the video. he dangles the phone in your face. “ringing any bells? this was you a week ago.”
when matt says that, the man between your legs flattens his tongue on your pussy before licking strands.
you whine, turning your head before a hand grips your jaw. “look at it. look at how much of a slut you are.”
“i-i’m sorry.” you apologize, tears brimming your eyes. “i’m sorry, matt.”
he takes the hand on your jaw and brings it back to your clit, rubbing on it hard as chris inserts his muscle into your hole. “you don’t seem that sorry, since my brother is tongue-fucking you and you seem to be enjoying it.”
you moan once chris digs deeper, squirming on your boyfriend’s lap. “if you’re gonna act like a slut you’re going to be treated like one.”
you squeeze your eyes tight as matt rubs circles and chris eats you out like a madman. the video still plays, and you’re starting to replay that night in your head.
“daddy! g-gonna cum, daddy.” the speakers of the phone boom.
the mixture of chris’ filthy words he said to you last week and your sounds make you even more aroused, your legs shaking and squeezing his head.
“gonna cum nice and deep in ya, so you’ll be walking around for days with a swollen belly full of it. this is exactly how sluts like you should be treated. isn’t that right?”
“ngh— y-yes, daddy. cum in m-me, please.”
a string of moans falls from your lips before you cum all over chris’ face. he removes himself, giving you time to breathe.
he starts unbuckling his belt. it’s a little difficult being that he’s still on the floor, but now he’s sitting.
matt removes his hand, putting his phone away as well. chris grabs your arms and yanks you to the floor so you’re straddling him. “what-what are you—” you’re cut off by the stretch of him, pulling you down on his dick.
you look around with glassy eyes, matt now unbuckling his belt right by your head. “you already fucked him once. i’m sure you can do it again.”
chris thrusts from below you, your eyes immediately rolling back and moaning so desperately. the phone comes out once again and he leans back pressing record at how you look on top of him.
“f-fuck. chris—” his hand makes contact with your ass.
“try again.”
“d-daddy…”
“sorry, what did you say? i don’t think he heard you.” he smirks, looking at matt who’s rolling his eyes. “say it, ma. what do you call me?”
he spanks you again, and you cry out from the pain. “daddy!”
“that’s right, and who makes you feel this way?”
what a douchebag matt thinks, springing his dick from his pants and wrapping his hand around it. he’s looking at how pathetic you look, your mewls of pleasure turning him on. he pumps his hand, moaning lowly.
your sounds get drastically higher once your g-spot is hit, but he smacks your asscheek again. “i will spank you until your ass is numb if you keep ignoring me.” again… and again. “who makes you feel this way?”
you grip onto his biceps, scratching at them. “y-you, daddy. only you— shit!” you drag on, starting to bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts. you’re so fucking close.
matt whimpers from next to you, biting the collar of his shirt as he grabs your jaw to forcefully look at him. the way his hand is pumping and the muffle of his moans are wanting to send you over the edge.
chris moves his phone to the side to get a better view, trying hard not to get matt’s face in frame. to him, it’ll ruin the moment if he sees his brother in the sex tape. this is only for you and him.
“o-open.” matt stutters, his shirt falling from his teeth. you open your mouth, and his cum lands on your tongue. “swallow… good girl.”
he continues, “did you see that, chris? the slut listens to whatever a man says. do you just let random men fuck you? ‘cause it seems that way.”
tears leak from your eyes, shaking your head with a whine. “i’m gonna cum.” you whisper, matt’s grip on your jaw firmer.
“do it. cum on my brother’s cock like the whore you are.”
whimpering, you quiver and spread your fluid down his base. chris moves his phone to where you’re conjoined, your orgasm slowly dripping around him.
chris moans, his thrust becoming sloppy. “don’t you dare cum inside her.” matt warns.
“wouldn’t be the first time.” he thrusts up faster to get to his orgasm, the most shit-eating grin on his face. “or the second.”
matt snarls, but chris sighs. “fine.”
he lifts you off of him, shooting his release onto your stomach.
matt lifts you to bend you over the chair. you rut your hips back, not even noticing you did it until he hums of approval from behind you. “i think she’s needy for more.”
chris smirks. “i think so, too.”
you wince once he starts to push into you, adjusting to his size rather than chris’. he starts slow but gradually gets faster. your arousal drips from your pussy, and moans escape from your open mouth.
“fu-uck, baby. please don’t s-stop.” you whimper.
your moans turn to yelps the deeper he goes, your walls closing tight around him. in the middle of your moaning mess, a cock fills your mouth.
chris’ hand grips your hair, him now thrusting into your mouth at the same fast speed matt’s doing. “you’re getting too loud, ma. don’t want the neighbors to hear.”
matt’s hands grip onto your hips, grunting each time you clench. the vibration from your moans flows through chris’ body, making sure to capture what you look like taking two dicks at once on his phone.
“sweet thing just wants to be used.” he fake pouts. “am i right?”
he’s being a cocky mother fucker, being that he knows you can’t respond. you try to respond, but it’s only a gag and gulp.
they know your response anyway, which is: yes.
“i’d say that’s a yes.” matt says.
drool hangs from your chin, the noises of you sucking chris’ dick getting more intense. “she’s close.” matt points out. “squeezing me like she’s going to break me in half.”
“i think we’re overstimulating her.” chris grins, taking a piece of your hair and tucking it behind your ear.
each time matt thrusts into you, you choke on chris. you’ve never done something like this, but it feels so good. you cross your eyes, cumming down matt’s shaft.
it makes a mess on his and your thighs, the sound of wet skin on wet skin rubs you the right way.
“just a little more, baby. taking me so well.” matt praises, and you hum at the compliment.
chris tenses in your mouth, pushing your head further down to deepthroat him. “shit.” he curses under his breath. you gag, feeling his cum go down your throat.
some of it spills from the sides of your mouth and he pulls out. your spit mixed with his orgasm dangles on your face. you inhale sharply and cough, but it turns into a soft moan since matt is still fucking into you.
oh, and chris made sure to capture all of that, too.
he lets go of your head, saving the video, and casually picks up his clothes off the floor. your cheek falls to the arm of the couch, the way matt feels making your mind fuzzy.
he groans, leaning so his head rests on your shoulder as he peppers kisses on the bare skin. “i fucking love you.” he says through gritted teeth, pounding himself into you harder.
you whimper. “i love mm— you too.”
he exhales before painting your walls white, making sure you take it all. you sigh in relief and he pulls out, making sure to clean you up.
you roll over, smiling wide because of the pure ecstasy you just felt yet again. “are you kidding?” matt asks, looking in the direction of the kitchen. you squint your eyes at the figure.
chris is there, fridge open as his finger taps on his chin. “do you have anything good to eat? i’m always hungry after sex.”
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @braindead4l @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns
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harryspet · 6 months
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bambi eyes (5) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!
word count: 3.9k
In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.
Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 
You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 
When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 
“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”
You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 
“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”
He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 
You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”
“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 
“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”
“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”
He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”
“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”
He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”
You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”
“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 
“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 
Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 
“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”
Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”
Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”
“You want to see them. Really?”
“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”
Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”
“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”
“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”
“You want to be my friend?”
“I mean, only if you want me to.”
“I do.”
“Don’t tell Rafe though–”
Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 
“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”
Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 
There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”
Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 
“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”
“Uh …no,” You stared. 
Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 
“Good, get in, Bambi.”
“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 
“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”
You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”
“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 
You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 
“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 
“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”
Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 
“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”
“He’s full of shit.”
You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”
“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”
“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”
“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”
“But why–”
“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”
You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”
You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 
Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”
“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”
Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”
“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 
“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”
“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”
“... It could be really fun …”
“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”
“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”
“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”
You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”
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Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 
Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 
Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 
“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 
The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 
The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 
“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”
JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 
The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 
“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”
Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 
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Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”
Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”
Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 
“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 
“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”
“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 
“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”
“You saved me.”
Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”
Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”
“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”
“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”
“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”
Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 
“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 
“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”
Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 
“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”
You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”
“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 
“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”
You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 
He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”
Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 
“Thank me.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 
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Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 
A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 
“Did people always stare at you like this?”
“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”
“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 
“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 
“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.
“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”
“Coffee isn’t good for you.”
“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 
You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”
You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 
You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 
“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 
“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 
The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”
“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 
“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”
He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 
“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 
You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 
“Daddy-”
“Let’s go, Bambi.”
“Rafe-”
“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 
You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.
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PART 6
Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!
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another-lost-mc · 1 year
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When They Say "F*ck Lucifer" (& Think MC Takes It Literally) Headcanons | THE DEMON BROTHERS 2.6k words | NSFW | gn!Reader | Crack Treated Seriously Content warnings: Cursing, implied relationships, pet names, jealous/possessive behaviour, misunderstandings and poor communication, demon form mentioned (Satan), suggestive content.
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BELPHEGOR
"Belphie, it's time for dinner!" Lucifer sent you to find him, and when he wasn't napping in your bed, you knew where to check next.
He mumbles something into his pillow and you can't make out the words, but you know he's listening. "It's the third night this week you've skipped eating dinner with the family. Come on, you know how Lucifer is."
Belphie turns his head towards you enough so that you can hear him more clearly. "Oh, fuck Lucifer." He rolls over and starts snoring again, and you stomp back down the attic stairs in frustration.
When you join the others for dinner, you jab your fork into your food with more force than necessary. You're halfway done your meal when Belphie suddenly plops down into the empty chair beside yours. He reaches for your free hand and leans against your shoulder.
"Belphie?" you ask him curiously, but he says nothing. He doesn't eat anything either. He tries to cuddle even closer to you instead, and he shoots glares at his older brother sitting at the head of the table.
It takes you longer to eat than normal with one of your hands firmly tucked in Belphie's grip. As soon as you finish your dinner, he pulls you away from the table and back up to the attic. He curls around you for the rest of the night like he's afraid you might disappear if he doesn't.
He doesn't skip any more meals for the rest of the week.
BEELZEBUB
You have one hand stretched out in front of you, pressed firmly against Beel's chest. The other is holding a container of sweets behind your back.
"No, you can't have these," you remind Beel for the hundredth time. "They're for tomorrow, remember?"
But Beel's only half-paying attention to you. His focus is latched onto the container in your hand, and if he wasn't worried about hurting you by accident, he'd simply take it from you.
"It's not fair," his low voice rumbles thickly, and there's drool leaking from the corner of his mouth now. "I'm starving!"
You shake your head and look around for something else to tempt Beel with instead. "Lucifer bought these for Diavolo, and we're taking them to the tea party tomorrow."
"Fuck Lucifer," Beel growls, and it's the loudest and angriest he's sounded yet. You both look startled by the outburst; your hand slips away from holding him back, and his jaw drops open when he realizes what he said to you.
You hold the container tightly against your chest. He could easily take it from you now, but he surprises you when he doesn't. His eyes are fixed solely on your face, as if the thing he wanted moments ago is completely irrelevant. He holds his arms out like he's trying to block you from leaving the kitchen.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I'll look for something else to eat, but please, don't go."
ASMODEUS
"Are you sure you should post that?" you ask, glancing over Asmo's shoulder as he types another inflammatory reply on Devilgram.
"Of course!" he exclaims. "You read their comment. ‘Pretentious and gaudy?’ MY clothing line?! No, I won’t stand for it.”
He’s typing quickly and you’re not exactly sure what his Devildom insult is supposed to mean, but you imagine it’s not very nice by the way Asmo cackles when he hits Send.
“I don’t want to be that person,” you start nervously while Asmo scrolls through the other comments on his post, “but maybe you should ignore them? All this back and forth is drawing a lot of negative attention to your Devilgram feed.”
Asmo pauses what he's doing and looks at you suspiciously. “Who told you that?”
You bite your lip and look away. “Lucifer asked me to talk to you about it.” When Asmo rolls his eyes, you throw your hands up. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it? Aren’t you worried this little spat might impact your new launch?”
Asmo jabs his D.D.D. in your direction. “He’s only worried about drama if it involves someone close to Diavolo.” He runs his hand through his hair and looks down at his phone screen again. “Fuck him. If Lucifer cares that much, he can come talk to me himself.”
“Ugh!” You stand up with a huff and head towards the door. You tried to talk to him and it’s obvious he’s not going to listen. You hope Lucifer believes you later when you tell him you tried to get Asmo to see reason.
When you reach for the door handle, you’re surprised when Asmo suddenly blocks your way. Sometimes you forget how fast demons can move.
“I didn’t mean that,” he says seriously. His housecoat falls open slightly when he leans towards you, and his expression isn't angry but dead-serious.
“Didn’t mean what?” you ask confusedly.
“Fucking my brother. Don’t do it.” His hands grasp your shoulders and you can’t help but laugh.
“I wasn’t going to? I was going to go back to my room while you carry on with your…” you trail off, gesturing to his abandoned D.D.D. on the bed, “…little feud.”
He steers you back towards his bed. “If you want to relax, then I insist you stay here instead. My room is much more comfortable than yours. Besides, I just thought of something you can help me with.”
You sit on the edge of the bed and smile up at him. “Like apologizing to that poor demon lord you keep picking fights with?”
Asmo winks at you with a hint of a smirk, and he tugs at the belt holding his housecoat closed. “Maybe we can do that after.”
SATAN
Satan walks around the narrow pathways in his room, avoiding the fragile stacks of books that litter his floor. You sit on his bed and watch him anxiously, giving him the patience and time he needs to tell you what's bothering him. You're careful to give him space when he's in one of these moods; it was one of the stipulations you agreed to before he let you inside earlier.
"So, you were in the garden earlier with some of the stray cats, and Lucifer did...what, exactly?" You've been trying to piece together what happened between Satan and his brother earlier, but it's hard to make sense of his grumbled and disjointed complaints.
"He scared them away," Satan bites out angrily. "I wasn't even feeding them treats. I sprinkled some catnip for them. What's the problem with that?"
You know Lucifer complains about the stray cats that flock to the House of Lamentation if Satan feeds them when he's not supposed to. You know that Lucifer isn't a fan of cats in general. But, you also know that Lucifer wouldn't purposefully hurt any of the cats that make their way into the garden, and he's not usually this petty.
"Is it possible he thought you were feeding them? I don't think he would make such a big fuss if he knew you were only giving them catnip." Satan glances at you and you can tell he's not convinced by your explanation. "What if I go with you to talk to him?"
"Fuck him," Satan snarls as he keeps pacing in front of you, fists clenching open and closed at his sides.
Sigh. Maybe you can talk to Lucifer on your own. Things have been peaceful between them lately, and this is such a silly thing for them to be at odds over.
Satan watches you stand up from his bed with a defeated sigh. When you try to shuffle past him, he wraps his arms around you from behind and pulls you against his chest. There's a wave of warm energy around you, and you feel the familiar feathers of his true form against your back.
"You're not going to leave me to see him, are you?" his rough voice grates against your neck. "You should stay here."
"Tomorrow we're going to sort this out together," you tell him when you meet his gaze over your shoulder.
His hands on your hips tighten. "Fine. But tonight, you're mine."
LEVIATHAN
"I think there's something wrong with your Akuzon account."
Levi asked you to pre-order the Dogi Maji anniversary bundle on his tablet, but the Submit Order button is greyed out every time you try to purchase it for him.
"Huh?" Levi spins around at his desk. He was doing some dungeons with his guild and you've been waiting for him to finish so you could watch anime together.
You tap the screen a few more times and shrug. "I don't know, it won't let me order anything."
Levi opens the Akuzon site on his second monitor and he sputters when he realizes what the problem is. "Lucifer put parental controls on the account again! Why would he do that?"
Of course. You knew Lucifer was upset at Levi for what happened earlier this week, and somehow his threat of punishment completely slipped your mind. "Well, you did summon Lotan on the RAD campus again..." you offer hesitantly.
"That wasn't my fault!" Levi argues loudly. He wilts a bit under your skeptical stare. "Okay, it wasn't completely my fault. Mammon took my rare Ruri-chan capsule figurine and wouldn't give it back."
You rub the back of your neck. You want to be sympathetic, you really do, but you can't necessarily blame Lucifer for his reaction either - an entire floor of the building was unusable due to the flooding.
"You know how Lucifer is, he'll change it back in a few days and we can order the game then."
"But what if it sells out before then?!" he shouts in frustration. "Fuck Lucifer!"
Levi rarely raises his voice like this to you, and he deflates immediately after his little outburst. "Wait–wait–wait!" he stammers quickly, launching himself out of his computer chair and into the empty seat beside you on the sofa. He holds your hands in his and squeezes so tightly that you wince. "I didn't mean that," he says imploringly, and his eyes dart around your face like he's nervous you don't believe him.
You mistakenly assume he's trying to apologize for getting so angry, and you pull him into a hug. "I know," and he nods against your shoulder. "What if I go to Purgatory Hall and order the game using Solomon's account instead?"
Levi sniffles and practically drags you into his lap. "Maybe later," he mumbles against your chest, the game temporarily shoved aside so he can keep you to himself instead. "What do you want to watch first?"
MAMMON
You flick on the light switch in Mammon's room and glare at him in annoyance. You warned him last night not to stay too late at the casino, and here he is, sleeping well past his alarm. At some point he chucked his D.D.D. across the room and promptly went back to sleep.
Great, now you're both going to be late, but for some reason, Lucifer seems to think herding Mammon to class is your responsibility. Lover's perks, you guess sarcastically as you stomp over to where the Avatar of Greed is snoring under a pile of blankets. One of his feet is dangling over the edge of the bed, and if you had more time, maybe slow, torturous tickles would teach him a lesson. For now, you grab the edge of his blankets and rip them off him in one smooth motion.
His eyes are still closed while his hands search blindly for the blankets that are on the floor by your feet. He's only in his boxers so the sudden gust of cool air against his skin makes him shudder. You feel a bit of petty satisfaction as you kick the blankets away for good measure.
"'m tired, goin' back to sleep, babe," he mumbles sleepily.
Well, at least he knows it's you, even if he is half-asleep.
"We're going to be so late for class, and Lucifer's going to kill me. Or you. Or both of us!" You wonder why Lucifer would send you to wake up Mammon, when his own threats of dangling him from the ceiling would probably be more effective. You guess waking Mammon up is meant to be your punishment for choosing to be with him of all demons in the first place.
Mammon groans and rolls over so you can't see him, but you can tell he's half-buried in his pillow when he grumbles, "Fuck 'em."
You throw up your hands and spin on your heel. "Fine, be that way," you snap. Your mood's already sour, and Lucifer's pestering and Mammon being himself isn't helping.
You should have enough time to grab something to eat and make it to class on time if you leave now. What you don't expect is for Mammon to not only get out of bed, but to somehow make it to the doorway before you do.
Damn, he's fast.
He's panting heavily and his eyes are clear now, his razor-sharp focus trained on you. You bump into his bare chest because you don't expect him to block your path. You open your mouth to ask what he's doing, but he leans forward and gives you a sloppy kiss instead. There's something almost desperate in the way his hands cradle your jaw and he drags his lips away from your mouth and dusts your cheeks and brow with feathery-soft kisses too.
"'m sorry," he mumbles, pulling you against him in a tight hug, "Wait for me while I get ready, yeah? Just, don’t–don’t leave. I’ll make it up to ya later, promise.”
LUCIFER
Lucifer pauses outside your bedroom door when he realizes you're speaking to someone on the phone. His brothers are all studying in their rooms - or they should be, same as you. He wonders who could possibly be so interesting that you're ignoring your studies to talk to them instead.
He assumes it's Solomon or Simeon, and he can't decide which of those two options is worse. Not that he cares, of course.
Even through the door, he can hear you clearly. He feels the slightest sense of guilt when he recognizes the tired, sad tone in your voice. Some of his brothers failed the last set of exams, and perhaps he was too strict with you considering your own scores were satisfactory - excellent even, in some classes. He knows that you've been ignoring your extracurriculars and hobbies to focus on studying so you don't disappoint him like his siblings do.
He catches the tail-end of your conversation and decides it's definitely Solomon on the other line if you're being invited to human world outings.
"...yeah, I heard that movie is in theatres now too. I think it looks good, but I'm too busy with–look, maybe once exams are over we can go see it, okay? I think Satan might like to see it too...uh huh...alright, you too. G'night."
Silence follows, and before Lucifer can knock on your door, he hears you sigh and mutter quietly, "Ugh, these stupid exams. Fuck Lucifer."
Well, there's a thought, isn't it? He was going to offer to take you to Madam Scream's to pick up some of those cupcakes you like. He considers it for only a split second and decides he likes your idea even more. His lips curl into a feral smirk, and he knocks once before letting himself inside.
"Huh? Oh, hi, Lucifer. I'm just going to..." but your voice tapers off. Whatever you were going to say dies in your throat when he leans against your door and slides the lock into place.
"I missed you," he murmurs, a surprisingly honest (and to you, completely random) confession that causes your cheeks to darken slightly. You swallow thickly and stare when he brings his hand to his mouth and pulls his glove off with his fucking teeth. "I think you deserve a little reward for all your hard work, hm?"
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pandorxxx · 1 year
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In Tune…
Neteyam (20) x avatar fem reader (19)
(Shout out to @st-cass for the title🫶🏽)
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Warnings: SMUT THE HOUSE, light cursing, p in v, pinning, oral (69), praise kink, spitting, creampie.
🔞Minors, do not interact🔞
It had been about 6 months since you first came to pandora. You were getting along well with the scientists, and even getting close to some Navi. One of them including Neteyam. You two were almost inseparable, always hanging around eachother in your free time. If he wasn’t showing you the forest, and teaching you about his culture, you were teaching him about your home. He grew very fond of learning more about earth, and where you came from.
The one thing he enjoyed the most, was the music. Of course there was music played at special ceremonies, and celebrations in the Navi culture, but not nearly as broad as earth’s catalog.
Today, you two were in your room that was situated in the lab, listening to your playlist on the Bluetooth speakers you attached to the wall. You laid across your bed, nodding your head to the music, and Neteyam sat in your desk chair, wheeling back and forth.
“I like this one, what is it called?” He asked, sitting back in the chair. “Lost by frank ocean. I didn’t think you would like this one that much.” You chuckled, turning your head to him.
“I like the umm…” he snapped his fingers with closed eyes, trying to remember the words you taught him to describe music.
“me-lo-dy? I like the MELODY!” He spat, shaking his head as he chuckled to himself. You laughed out loud as your tail tapped the bed from amusement.
“Haha! Good job!” you shouted, sitting up on your bed. “To get the best vibes, i do this.” You spoke before grabbing your led light remote, Turning them on. Neteyams eyes lit up, looking around at the room.
“Aes- Aesthe-tics, right?” He asked, amazed at the change in scenery. You nodded your head, flickering between the lights. You finally set your mind on red.
“Yup!” you chuckled. The aura was immediately ripped away as you heard the beginning beat of the nastiest song you had in your play list.
“I gotta lot of cash.
I don’t mind spendin it.
Yeah…”
“Oh shit.”
Horror swept across your face, as you scrambled to get over to the phone on the desk behind Neteyam. He stopped you, placing his hand on your stomach.
“Wait, I like this one. The beat is nice, no?” He asked, looking up at you with the most innocent smile. Wiz Khalifa’s part was almost over, and you were completely mortified at the mere thought of The Weeknd’s part starting.
“I haaate this song, I forgot to delete it.” You laughed nervously, reaching over him to grab your phone. He stood to his full height, grabbing the phone before holding it over his head. You were practically climbing on him, trying to save yourself the embarrassment.
“What’s wrong with you?” He chuckled.
“Why are you being so wei-“ he was cut off by The Weeknd, singing his infamous part of this song.
“Do you like the way I flick my tongue or nah?
You can ride my face until you’re dripping cum.”
His ears perked up, and his eyes widened. You let him go, stepping back before face palming. You were horrified, and his reaction made it worse. It was clear that he got every word. His attention shifted to the phone, then back at you.
“Before you say anything. I tried to cut it off.” You spoke softly, holding your hands up in surrender. He looked at you with so much confusion, tracing your small stature with his eyes.
“Is this something you want?” He asked, tilting his head. Your stomach dropped, the embarrassment washing over you.
“I-umm, what are you talking about?” You smiled nervously, shaking your head “no” as a way to let him know that this was just a big misunderstanding.
“You said that you listened to music that expressed your true feelings, right?” He asked, placing your phone on the desk behind him, still keeping eye contact with you. You gulped loudly, scanning the room nervously.
“Well, yeah to a certain ext-” he cut you off, taking his belt off, laying it across the desk next to your phone.
“And what extent is this?” He challenged with a slight smirk, crossing his arms as he undressed you with his eyes. You were completely, and utterly speechless. You couldn’t form one completely thought. Beads of sweat started forming on your forehead, and your hands became clammy. Your heart was beating so hard that you were almost sure he could see it from where he was standing.
“Can you lick the tip and throat that dick or nah?
Can you let me stretch that pussy out or nah?”
It was a lot of awkward silence as the song rang through your room, and the red led’s just put the icing on the cake.
“Well, can I?” He asked, taking off his neck piece. “c-can you what?” You asked, wiping your sweaty forehead.
“Can I stretch you out?” He licked his bottom lip, staring directly at your loincloth before trailing his gaze back up to yours. You let out a nervous chuckle, backing away from him.
“I-it’s just a song Neteyam.” You said in a shaky voice, scanning his lustful demeanor. He started walking closer to you, as you took the same amount of steps back, running into the wall.
He aggressively slapped his hand on the wall behind your head, making you gasp. He bent down to your ear, pulling you into him by your waist.
“Is you really bout your money or nah?
Can you really take dick or nah?
Can I bring another bitch or nah?
Is you with the shits or nah?”
“You think you can take me?” He whispered in his melodic tone, attacking your neck with wet kisses. You let out a soft moan, holding his huge arm in yours. He picked you up by your thighs, throwing you on the bed.
He stood in between your legs, untying his loincloth as you traced your hand down his flexed abs. His hard cock sprung out, hitting the palm of your hand.
“Can you take this?” He asked throwing his loincloth into the corner of the room. “Maybe.” you spat, looking into his dark eyes.
“Wrong answer.” He growled laying on the bed next to you before pulling you onto him backwards. “Neteyam, what are you doing?” You panted, feeling your loincloth being teared in two.
“I’m listening to the song.” He muttered before French kissing your cunt, flicking your clit with his warm tongue.
“Shittt!” You squealed, gripping his thighs to keep you up right. You looked down to be met with his hard cock, desperate for attention. You were practically foaming at the mouth, so ready to taste him as the song filled your head with filthy thoughts.
You palmed his cock, hungrily attaching your mouth to his length. He groaned into your cunt, sending vibrations through your entire body.
Your eyes rolled back briefly, as you engulfed his entire cock. You gagged loudly, bobbing your head up and down on him slowly. In turn, Neteyam spread your cheeks wider, sucking on your clit gently.
“You like that, baby?” he whispered into your cunt, smacking your ass. “Mhmmm!” you hummed on him, using your hand to stroke his length as you twirled your tongue around his tip.
“Mmm, s-so good at this!” He moaned, flicking his tongue at a fast pace. You lifted your head alittle, moaning out loud. He continued, pushing you down further onto his face.
“Cum for me, just like the song says!” He growled, completely devouring you. You detached from him briefly, spit falling from your chin as your mouth flew opened.
“Ohhh neteyammm!” You whined loudly, bouncing on his tongue. He held his tongue out, letting you go to work. The knot in your stomach was tightening, warning you that your orgasm was approaching quickly.
You spit on his cock, jerking him off as you moaned loudly at the friction of his tongue slapping against your sensitive clit.
“I-im gonna cum!” You whimpered, speeding up your pace on both his cock, and his tongue.
“Mhmm, I wanna taste you.” He muttered, grabbing your ass, flicking his tongue at the speed of light. Your legs started shaking uncontrollably as your eyes rolled back.
“Baby, I’m fucking cumming!” You screamed, throwing your head back in pure bliss. Your juices flowed direction down his throat, as he guzzled them. You rocked back and forth on his face gently, riding out your high.
You got off of him lazily, legs still shaking from your orgasm. “Oh don’t get tired on me, I’m not done with you yet.” He grinned, picking you up off of the bed. He walked you over to your desk, swiping everything off of it aggressively before placing you on it.
“You want me to fuck you right here? Isn’t that what he said?” He whispered in your ear, feeling you up with his large hands. You grabbed his face, kissing his lips greedily. “Mhmm!” You hummed against his soft lips. He parted your legs slightly, pressing his hard cock against your entrance before sliding in slowly.
Your back arched immediately, pressing your breasts against his chest. “So fucking big!” You muttered with a clenched jaw, looking into his eyes. “Mhmm I know.” He whispered, locking eyes with you. He lifted your leg alittle, giving him more access to thrust into you slowly.
He leaned in to kiss you, sliding his tongue inside of your mouth. You sucked on it before twirling your tongue around his. You bit his lip, bending it back before letting it go. He deemed this the perfect time to speed up the pace, massaging your sweet-spot with every thrust.
“YES! *thrust* YES! *thrust* YES! *thrust*” you whined, voice going up an octave with every thrust.
“Feels good, yes?” He moaned with his mouth parted slightly, watching your face ball up in pleasure. “Ohhhh, you’re fucking me so-sooo good!” You cried throwing your head back. He grabbed your exposed neck, using it as leverage to thrust into you hard and deep.
“Open your mouth.” He commanded, and you obliged, sticking your tongue out. He let his spit slowly fall into your mouth as he rutted into you. You swallowed hungrily, licking your lips before locking eyes with him. The song filled your ears, along with skin clapping and loud moaning.
“Keep saying you a freak,
you gon’ prove it or nah?
His bitch keep lookin at me
she choosin or nah?”
“I’m stretching this tight little pussy just right, aren’t I?” He asked in his melodic tone before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth. You nodded, taking in his appearance; the way his braids fell on either sides of his face, the sweat dripping off of his face down into your lap, the way his muscle definition sharpened under the red lights. He was sending you over the edge.
“N-Neteyam I-I’m-” you stuttered, Neteyam cutting you off by rolling his hips into yours, massaging your sweet spot with his swollen tip.
All you could do was scream, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him in closer. He felt you clenching around him, signaling that your orgasm was coming, and he wasn’t far behind.
“You’re gonna make me cum!” You screamed, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He held your legs up slightly, by the bend of your knee’s. He sped up, and you could feel every vein on his cock, massaging your sweet walls. And with that, you squirted hard, convulsing and moaning loudly.
“Yeah, just like that baby. I’m right behind you.” He chuckled, watching you fall apart before pulling you back, kissing your lips.
Don’t play with a boss, girl take it off.
Take it for a real one, you gon’ get it all.
He pulled away from the kiss, taking you off of the table before turning you around, bending you back over the table. He slammed into you, holding you down by the back of your neck.
“Ohhh my God, Neteyammmm!” you whined gripping the sides of the table as he thrusted into you fast, searching for his orgasm.
“I’m almost done baby, you’re taking me like a good girl!” He grunted, bending down to leave wet kisses on your spine. You could feel him brushing against your tender sweetspot, sending you into a frenzy.
You started throwing it back on him, trying to chase your orgasm for the third time tonight. “Mhmmm, taking this dick so well.” He growled slapping your ass. You bit your lip, looking back at him.
“I-I’m cummingggg!” You whined, locking eyes with him. Your mouth flew opened as you started shaking again, screaming his name as you squirted all over him.
“Keep looking at me just like that. I’m gonna cum so deep inside of you!” He moaned, bending down to engage in a passionate kiss. Before he knew it, he was moaning into the kiss, painting your sweet walls with his seed. He thrusted into you slowly, riding out his high.
“Gon’ and make that ass clap”
“Gon’ and make that ass clap”
He slapped your ass again, pulling out slowly, watching his cum drip out of you. “Mmm we should do this more often.” He chuckled, rubbing your back. You nodded, still laying on the table.
The song finally turned off, immediately going to the next one:
“ Freak me baby (x4)
Baby let’s get naked,
just so we can make sweet love.”
Your ears perked up, and your eyes widened. “Damn, another one?” He asked. “I could do this all fucking night!” He growled, slapping your ass again before positioning himself behind you, sliding into you slowly.
What did you get yourself into…
This made me feel some thannngsss. Y’all know I had to add sweet love in there somewhere LMFAOOO. Ugh I hate to admit it, but y’all were right about the song choice or whatevaaa😒. As always, love y’all to death, and I’ll talk to y’all later.
Outtie❤️🖖🏾,
Pandorxx
Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @pullandhug @ameliestsblog @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @lovedbychoi @neteyamlover1213
2K notes · View notes
hp-hcs · 8 months
Note
on a slytherin high rn so I'd be interested to see your take on yandere enzo berkshire? (on his own or poly with mattheo or theodore because there's no such thing as too much of the theo's) or just any sort of enzo x male reader.
~yanxidarlings; why you should make your writing blog a primary blog (case study)
poly bc i love my theo boyos ☺️
i tried real hard on this one i swear, just none of my words are wording right 😭
really? nobody has a single request? 🤨🤲
detention — yandere! poly! lorenzo berkshire & yandere! poly! mattheo riddle & yandere! poly! theodore nott x male! hufflepuff! reader
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TWs: possessive/obsessive/toxic behavior, referenced homophobia, implied past repeated homophobia, homophobic slur, implied past bullying, references to past violence, graphic threats of violence, sexual innuendos, implied sexual activities
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“…really, I don’t know what you were thinking. Here, this is the detenti- Mr. Riddle! Mr. Nott! Get off of those desks!” McGonagall scolded, snapping her fingers and casting a wandless spell that made them both fall off of their desks and safely into their chairs.
You hover awkwardly at the doorway of the classroom-turned-detention-room, feeling the sudden piercing eyes of three Slytherins on you.
McGonagall huffs in disappointment, pats your shoulder, and leaves without a word. The boys all share a look you can’t quite decipher.
“Well, well, well. What’ve we got here?” One of them drawls, putting his feet up on his desk and crossing them at the ankle. “A pretty-boy Hufflepuff got in trouble?”
You rock back and forth on your feet, biting your lip nervously.
“Aww, he’s nervous,” another Slytherin cooed patronizingly. “What’s wrong, little badger? Afraid of a few snakes?”
The first boy stands up, sauntering over to you with an obnoxious smirk. He holds his hand out for you to shake.
“Mattheo Riddle, darling.”
You slowly take his hand and shake it, your grip loose.
“Nice to meet you,” you say softly. “I’m Y/N.”
“Y/N,” the second boy purrs, joining the first, Mattheo. “Lovely name for a lovely boy. I’m Theodore, sweetheart.”
You swallow thickly, the two taller boys standing over you.
“Leave ‘im alone, guys,” the last boy speaks up. “I’m calling dibs.”
“W-what?” You squeak, your eyes darting between the three as they all share another wordless look.
“Come along, little badger,” Theodore grins widely, predatorily, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “We don’t bite.”
“Unless you ask us to,” Mattheo adds on, joining your other side and wrapping an arm around your waist.
Your cheeks burn with the innuendo and all of the attention. “Er…no, I’m alright. Thank you.”
“If you ever change your mind…” Mattheo shrugs, leaving the offer unspoken.
The third boy finally stands up, swatting away Mattheo and Theodore. They both, surprisingly, acknowledge him and step away from you.
“Ignore these idiots,” he says fondly. “They think only with their dicks and never their brains.”
The Theos™ immediately break out into loud protests at the accusation. The third Slytherin rolls his eyes.
“I’m Lorenzo, but most people call me Enzo.”
“What do you call yourself?” You ask, voice still soft and almost getting lost in the clamor of the two other boys.
“What?”
“You told me what people call you…but what do you call yourself?”
He blinks.
“Uh, Lorenzo, I guess.”
You nod. “Lovely to meet you, Lorenzo.”
“I have a feeling that it’s lovelier meeting you, Y/N.”
~~~ “So why did you get detention?” Theodore asks, looking up at you from where he lays on the floor of the library, the spot you four had chosen to further converse at after your sentence was served. “You don’t seem like the type to really do…anything wrong.”
You wince, closing your book and relaxing further into the comfortable couch. “I uh, tried to ask this guy to Hogsmeade this weekend-” The boys all sit up at this, a dark look passing over each of their faces. “-but he uh…did not reciprocate,” you laugh humorlessly, running your fingers along your orbital bone.
They can barely see it—it’s still too early—but a definite bruise is starting to form. It’s going to turn into a hell of a black eye by tomorrow.
“He hit you?” Theodore asks, his voice low.
You shrug. “Comes with the territory of being the uh, ‘Puff Poof’, as they call me.”
“Creative. Put a lot of work into that one.”
“Tell me about it,” you grumble.
“Wait, how did you get in trouble then? If you were the one who got beat up in the first place?” Mattheo asks, his face scrunched up in confusion.
“Oh, I called Dumbledore a uh…‘batshit crazy abuser with a sanctimonious attitude and a god complex’. As it turns out, he did not like that.”
They all stare at you for a moment before bursting into laughter.
“Holy shit.”
“Talk about misjudging someone, damn.”
Your laughter eventually dies off and the conversation comes back around.
“So, Y/N, uh, what was this guy’s name?” Lorenzo asks sweetly, innocently. “Just..curious, is all.”
You huff, rolling your eyes. “Cormac McLaggen.”
They all collectively grimace.
“I know, okay? No need to rub it in.”
“You have terrible taste,” Mattheo scowls. “Asking out fucking McLaggen when we’re right here.”
“Yeah, don’t need to worry about him anymore, sweetheart,” Theodore says, sitting up from his spot on the floor and moving over to settle between your thighs and rest his chin on your knee. “We’re enough, aren’t we?”
Your cheeks burn at their words.
~~~ “What’re you all doing, bringing a Puff in here?” A fourth year jeers as the boys lead you through the Slytherin common room to the dorm they all share.
Theodore stares at the kid with his dead eyes; unnerving to everyone in the common room.
“If you even so much as look at him again, I’ll carve your eyes out in your sleep.”
The threat comes not from Theodore, but Lorenzo.
You gape, bewildered, as Lorenzo leads you down the hall, humming to himself like nothing happened.
“Same goes for you, you know,” Mattheo leans down to murmur in your ear. “Don’t even think about looking at another boy, got that, lovely?”
You reach their dorm and are roughly pulled inside, the door being slammed shut behind you all. Theodore pushes you up against the wall, pinning you in place.
“Ours, understand?”
701 notes · View notes
fxllfaiiry · 1 year
Note
hey can you do flashing spencer during an argument? some angst at the beginning to maybe?
─ flashing spencer during an argument 
summary ─ flashing spencer while arguing. 
warnings ─ 16+ no smut but heavily implied! explicit language, spencer being horny, some angst but not really, mentions of reader getting shot, wife!reader. 
notes ─ thank u for ur request <3 please don't mind any errors.
⎯⎯
“I can't believe you would risk your life like that.” The scene was ugly, you almost got hit by a bullet on the field and Spencer was having none of it. The flight back was quiet and tense, you tried to get him to talk to you but nothing, he gave you the silent treatment until you guys reached back home. You barely talked even then, everything was done in silence, once you guys were freshened up Spencer couldn't take it anymore, the whole thing was killing him. 
“Well, it's not like I got hit or anything, please calm down.” You were just as stubborn as he was, it’s not like you wanted to be in that situation, it just happened. You were trying to save an innocent man’s life. 
“Calm down? What if it hit you? Then what, huh?” 
“But it didn't, did it? Look I’m fine.” He was really testing your patience, you were tired, and all you wanted to do was cuddle up with your husband. 
“Look, I just want you to be safe, okay?” He turned away from you pacing back and forth, going on and on about how safety comes first. You stopped listening halfway, and then suddenly you got an idea. You had no energy to argue with him right now. 
You pulled your shirt up, exposing your tits to the room, thank god you didn't wear a bra. You waited patiently for him to turn around, letting him ramble first. 
“You could've saved him without puttin-” Oh. Spencer froze. The words died in his throat, the sight of you sitting topless made him hard. He went from angry to extremely turned on in mere seconds. 
“You were saying?” You looked so cocky, he wanted to fuck that smirk of yours away. 
Spencer walked towards you. You could tell you made him even angrier. You squirmed around nervously in your chair, you could feel yourself throb with each step he took. 
He stood in front of you, looking down at you with dark eyes. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip.
“I never meant to make you angry, Spence. I’m only doing my job.” The sudden stab of guilt makes you apologise, you get why he was mad but you were doing your job.
“I know, I was just worried that’s all. I’m sorry too.” His eyes softened at your words, he was being unreasonable before. 
“Can’t believe all it took was my tits being out for us to make up.” You giggle and Spencer lets out a low laugh at your comment. 
“Don’t think you’re getting away with it, that easily.” Your husband sinks down on his knees in front of you, gently kissing up your thigh. 
“Spence, please.” You grab his hair with your hands trying to guide him to where you need him the most. 
“Ah, ah, patience, my darling, we have a long night ahead.”
1K notes · View notes
loveharlow · 1 month
Text
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SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 002 (PART 1)
PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[8.2k] A trip to Charleston leads to a wild chase through Kooksville and an unexpected reunion that turns the pogues worlds upside down, amongst other heartbreaking events...
WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, mentions of firearms, unestablished relationship, poor communication, tw // jiara mentioned, mild angst
NOW PLAYING‧₊˚
A/N‧₊˚ don't shoot me pookies, it's for plot value😬
˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗
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IT WAS THE NEXT MORNING AND THE FOUR OF YOU WERE RIGHT BACK IN MR. SUNN’S CLASS. You had a permanent smile on your face from last night and something had shifted between you and JJ in the hours between then and now. While you were driving to school in the car you two had fixed up together, you’d made a joke about him being your passenger princess, the blonde laughing and then absentmindedly planting his hand on your thigh for the rest of the ride.
You were starting to feel like yourself after weeks of walking around like a ghost and you were holding out hope that after this was all over, once the cloud passed fully, that you could give JJ the answer he deserved. 
Right now, you were muffling laughs as Mr. Sunn rambled about the current unit topic, you and JJ sending tiktoks back and forth, phones hidden under the desks. 
“Mr.Sunn,” A man emerged in the open doorway, dressed down in a suit with an envelope between his fingers. Your laughter died as your attention went to him. “Can I borrow Mr. Heyward for a moment?”
The teacher looked dumbfounded between Pope and the man at the door, chalk clutched between his fingers. “Uh, we’re in the middle of a lesson.”
“My apologies, it won't be long. I’m from the Vanderhorst Foundation, Mr.Heyward was previously in the running for our scholarship.” He pressed once more, Mr.Sunn sighing and giving in, motioning for Pope to get up. Pope looked at the three of us before getting and leaving the room. 
Your eyes met JJ’s across the room, both shrugging. Kiara was too engrossed with trying to peek out of the door from her seat. Even though the classroom was fairly quiet, it was still too far to hear any part of the conversation. 
Maybe he was there to offer Pope another chance which would be, for one, great but also impeccably poor timing. You glanced up at your teacher as his attention turned back to the board, slouching in your chair and shooting a text in the group chat the four of you had.
You
think they’re giving him his spot back?
Kie
doubt it, the deadline’s more than dead :/
JJ
maybe they still want him, pope’s a certified genius
Just then, Pope came power walking back into the classroom, turning a few heads as he did so. He practically fell into his seat, turning around to face you, JJ, and Kie, holding the envelope the man from the foundation had in his hand just minutes ago — flipping it to reveal the very same wheat symbol that was branded into the gold bars.
“What the fu-” JJ started, gaining the attention of Mr.Sunn who had very teacher like expression of warning, causing JJ to trip over his words. “Fu-fudge…” He cleaned up. The teacher gave him a look and turned back around in his chair.
“We’ll talk about it after class.” Pope whispered, nodding and turning around his seat. 
THE FOUR OF YOU BOOKED IT TO THE LIBRARY AS SOON AS THE BELL RANG, the middle-aged hag of a librarian shushing you at the door. You found an empty table and crowded it as soon as possible, all ears waiting on Pope.
“That was the guy from the scholarship committee.” He started, putting the envelope in the middle of the table. “But that’s not all. Read it.” He urged, JJ being the first to swipe up the letter but he hesitated to read. You were sat next to him, the both of you across from Kie and Pope, so you leaned over his shoulder.
“What? What’s wrong?” You asked. JJ angled the paper in your direction, eyeing the two people in front of him nervously as you immediately spotted the problem — the letter was written in cursive. JJ couldn’t read cursive. “Oh, it’s fine, I got it.” You reassured, gently taking the letter from the blonde’s hands.
“What?” Kiara asked, brown eyes fleeting between the both of you. JJ shook his head, wiping his palms on the fabric of his cargo shorts.
“Nothin’. I just, I can’t read cursive.” He dismissed cooly but you could tell the subject made him slightly insecure. “What does it say?” He deflected, looking back at you.
You cleared your throat before reading, paper clutched between both of your hands. “Dear Mr.Heyward, I am reaching out because I may have material evidence that can exonerate John Booker Routledge…” You trailed off, shocked eyes meeting those around the table before you continued reading. “...It is of vital importance that you come and meet with me in person at my offices at twenty-seven King Street, Charleston at eight PM sharp, tonight. Please come alone…?” Your face twisted at that. No way in hell was that happening. “Regards, C.Limbrey.”
“Charleston?” JJ exclaimed incredulously, eyeing Pope’s endlessly pacing figure. “That’s like an eight-hour drive.”
“Plus, the ferry.” You added. “If you want any chance of getting there tonight we’d have to leave, like, right now.” 
“I have a free period.” Kie shrugged, sighing. “I gotta tell my mom, though…”
“Alright but guys?” You piped up, meeting each of their eyes before continuing. “If we get it this time, there’s no way in hell we are giving it to Shoupe. It's gotta go to higher ups or some shit.” 
“Agreed.” JJ nodded, standing from his seat and grabbing his backpack, you following his lead before Pope, who was crouched in front of the library computer, spoke up.
“I think whoever this Limbrey person is, they might be related to the captain of the Royal Merchant.” He told the three of you, JJ and you sharing a look before rounding the table to stand behind the boy at the computer, a webpage pulled up — a biography for ‘Captain Herman Limbrey’. 
Well. Charleston it is, then. 
“I AM SO SICK OF THIS SHIT!” Kiara’s mom’s voice traveled through the rolled down windows of Heyward’s truck. You, JJ, and Pope were sat with the music playing lowly as Kiara attempted to reason with her parents about where she was going. 
The family of three was visible from the driveway, but you could no longer hear the conversation as their voices lowered. 
“They’re takin’ it really well.” JJ quipped sarcastically. You were sat in the middle of the two boys, Heyward’s truck not having a backseat made this drive even more dreadful. “How’d you get this rig?” The blonde asked the boy in the driver’s seat, referring to his father’s truck. “I know your old man didn’t let you have it.”
Pope spoke absentmindedly, eyes too focused on the girl arguing with her parents some feet away. “I undid the intake valves on the carburetor, made it start pinging.” 
JJ nodded his head in approval, shifting his weight in the seat. “Mm, and now you’re just gonna 'take it to your cousin Jeff’s house, just gonna get it fixed, and crash overnight’.” He suggested to which Pope agreed. “I think I’m rubbin’ off on you, Pope. Lyin’ to your old man, stealin’ his truck…”
You quickly nudged the blonde in his side, shooting him a look. He held his hands up in mock surrender and bowed his head. “Ma bad. Sore subject.”
Pope simply sighed, tipping the hat on his head. “I’d say we have about eighteen hours before my pops loses his shit. So long as we get it back before then, we should be good.” Just then, Kiara came storming in the direction of the vehicle, yelling at her parents over her shoulder.
“I’m not going to boarding school!” She shouted, JJ opening the door for the both of you to get out and allow her into the car but she paused in her tracks when her dad began shouting.
“Look at your life, right now! Look at your life!” Kiara looked around at the three of you and then back at her father, shrugging carelessly and not sparing a word. Pope then peeked his head out of the driver’s side window. 
“I, um, I promise to have her back at a reasonable hour and safe.” He threw out, holding his hand up as if he was asking permission. Kiara looked at him, shaking her head. 
“Kiara, listen to me,” Her mother started, not exactly yelling but her voice traveled clearly. “You wanna go? Then go. But if you don’t come back at the proper time, then don’t. Come back. At all!”
You turned to Kie from your place next to JJ. “Hey, don't even worry about it. It’s the same threat each time, you know they won’t go through with it.” You told her quietly, in hopes of not offending her parents but offering her some sort of comfort. 
Kiara didn’t say a word as she ducked into the car, you piling in as JJ squished himself in next to you. 
“This shit would be so much easier without parents...” She scoffed, throwing her bag down on the car floor as JJ shut the passenger side door.
You and him both shared a look, knowing Kie probably didn’t fully think about what she was saying or who was around. You both grimaced at one another before looking away.
“God, 's so hot in here.” She complained throwing her head back. “Remind me why we didn’t take your car again?” She directed the question at you. “I mean, isn’t it drive-able now? You and JJ spent like every day working on it…”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t have the willpower to make it to Charleston and back just yet.” You told her with a small shrug. The girl simply groaned, trying to adjust herself in between you and Pope so it wasn’t so tight.
“Okay, could you stop moving like that? It’s making it hard to drive.” Pope inquired, pulling out of her driveway and heading down the road.
“There’s no space dude, there’s twice as many people in here than this car was built for.”
“Okay, JJ and Y/N, can you guys lap up or something?” The suggestion almost made you cough. Sitting on JJ’s lap for the next few hours did not seem like a good idea, considering recent events.
“Why can’t she sit on my lap?” Kiara asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Because she’ll block the rearview.” Pope threw out, annoyance growing in his tone. 
You looked to JJ for some kind of reassurance, he simply nodded and motioned his hands for you to come on. The car was still moving so you tried your best to be careful, the blonde spreading his legs to make a little more room for you to sit between them.
Once you had yourself settled, it was almost like JJ didn’t know where to put his hands. He had them planted on his on thighs beforehand so he accidentally laid a hand on your thigh before quickly removing it.
“My bad.” He muttered nervously. You could see his face faintly in the passenger side mirror.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’m the one kind of in your space, right now.” You shrugged, trying your best to come off nonchalant, as if this whole scenario didn’t make your heart go crazy. 
“You sure? I mean, I got pockets, I can just-”
“It’s cool, JJ.” You cut him off reassuringly, the blonde hesitating before letting his hand make home on your thigh. You didn’t know how to sit, if you should lean back on him, anything. But you figured if you made it awkward, it was going to be awkward. So you took a deep breath and simply leaned back into him, the boy making no protest about the movement. 
The only thing you couldn’t ignore was the growing erection that was pressing against your leg, harder by the minute. Heyward’s truck was no smooth riding vehicle, so the ride was quite bumpy. You could still see JJ’s face in the passenger side mirror and he looked mortified.
Neither of you were stupid — if you could feel it, you knew he definitely could. And if he could feel it, he felt terrible knowing you could too.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” He muttered out, coming out more like a sigh as he ran a hand down his face. You shifted your eyes to the left to see Kie on her phone and Pope was too occupied with driving, probably deep in thought about how much trouble he was going to be in if his pops found out about all this.
“It’s-” You cleared your throat before speaking, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s fine. Shit happens.”
“Nah, it’s not.” He groaned. “I can try and move so you can sit more on the seat-”
You cut him off quickly. “We’ll be at the Ferry dock soon. Honestly, JJ. Don’t sweat it.” You said finally.
The action did make a small well of discomfort bubble in your stomach with your last sexual encounter being non consensual and traumatizing. Just because it was JJ didn't quell any of your anxiety but you were trying not to live life as a victim.
A few deep breaths and you were calming down.
You could understand his humiliation and had your relationship with him been in different place, maybe you two would have laughed it off. But with this newfound depth of your “friendship”, it had you both sitting in silence the rest of the ride.
“MY PARENTS ARE SO PARANOID ABOUT ME BEING A POGUE LIKE IT’S THE WORST THING THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN…” Kiara complained leaning against the passenger door of the truck. The four of you had it made it to the ferry just in time to catch the current ride. You and JJ, who was rolling a blunt, were sat in the back of the pick-up truck across from one another, Pope leaning on the side paying the three of you no mind. The awkwardness between you two had alleviated by the time you reached The Ferry, but the situation still lingered in your mind.
Seagulls squawked as the boat sailed the water, the sizable ship making its way slowly but surely. 
“Hey, I hear they got good weed at boarding schools, though.” He replied optimistically. “Y’know, ‘cause all the rich kids got a shit ton of money to blow.”
Kie shrugged, dismissing the blonde’s hopeful piece of information. “I’m not going to boarding school.” She protested firmly. “If they want me to go, they’ll have to kidnap me. I don’t even know what their problem is. I mean, my dad was a pogue, you know that, obviously…” She trailed off, throwing an arm out in your direction. “They’re so hypocritical and overbearing. Why can’t my parents be more like yours?”
You couldn’t contain your expression of offense at Kiara’s words, the statement flowing so freely from her lips. So carelessly. “...You want a dead father and an underlying criminal mother who couldn’t give less of a shit about you?” The question was rhetorical but you wondered how she planned on explaining herself.
“Of course not, I didn’t mean it like that.” She cocked her head as if you were being unreasonable. “It’s just that, you can’t deny that this whole thing has been easier for you without parents watching your every move and breathing down your neck. That’s... all I was saying...”
You drew your lips into a thin line, arms crossing defensively. “Okay, well, my dad was murdered and my mother probably had something to do with it. Not to mention she tried to kill me, so not having two parents hasn't really been a choice for me, Kiara. But hey, ‘can’t deny that this whole thing has been easier’ for it, right?”
“I wasn’t saying-” She tried to defend with half a scowl on her face before Pope jumped in, JJ tapping your shoulder and offering you the blunt he’d been preparing. You took his from between his fingers, taking a long drag as Pope spoke.
“Okay, can we not argue? Please? I’m already mildly seasick enough as is.” He suggested, Kiara muttering a ‘fine’ under her breath as she adjusted her ponytail. “Kie, have you tried to hit JB back on that number?”
“Like, twenty-million times.” She groaned. “Some random lady at a hotel keeps picking up the phone.” 
Pope sighed, shifting his weight. “Well, until they contact us again, we gotta keep trying to clear John B’s name. Right now? This letter is our best bet.” He concluded, rubbing his hands over his head. You turned slightly to be able to see him, offering the joint to the boy.
His eyes fleeted between Kie and the smoking object, contemplating. She simply crossed her legs and arms, offering the boy a mischievous smile. “What Pope are you gonna be today?” She asked.
He seemed to ponder for a few more moments before shaking his head, you retracting the blunt and passing it back to JJ as he spoke to Kiara. “I’m good, gotta stay focused.” 
“I’ll take that.” JJ offered himself up, plucking the rolled object from your fingers with a smile.
Kiara simply nodded, her smile flattening out into a grimace. “Good Pope…” She said. “Boring Pope.” And you didn’t miss the way Pope’s face fell.
“I’VE READ THIS LIKE A THOUSAND TIMES AND IT STILL MAKES NO SENSE.” Kie explained from her place between Pope and JJ, you once again on the blonde’s lap as Pope cruised through Charleston. You’d gotten off the ferry a few hours ago, the sun now lower in the sky. “The Limbrey’s own like half of Charleston. What do some elite Kooks from Charleston known about a murder on Kildare?”
“I’m more concerned about why Pope specifically?” JJ questioned, eyes looking up at the driver. 
“Yeah. ‘Please come alone’? That’s off-putting, to say the least.” You added, sitting almost slanted in JJ’s lap in order to lean on the door. You were both a little hazy from the weed so your nerves were a lot calmer. 
“I had the same thought.” Pope chipped in. “I was thinking it’s probably because-” He cut himself off as a cloud of smoke erupted from the hood of his dad’s truck, blinding the road ahead. “Aw, shit, come on!”
“Pull over.” Kie demanded. “Jesus, that’s a lot of smoke. Even for your dad’s truck…” JJ began cough, you using your hand to cover his mouth as he rolled up the window. When he had it successfully rolled up, he gently removed your hand from his mouth. 
“Pope, I got sensitive lungs, dude.” He coughed out. A filter of smoke filled the car, you trying to wave it from in front of your face as it made your eyes burn. 
“I’m pulling over, okay?” Pope assured, but the car wasn’t slowing down. Pope swerved to the side but instead of pulling over, the car kept going off the curb until it was cruising through a patch of grass next to a quiet farm and you didn’t miss the rim that fell off of one wheel fly by the driver’s side window.
“Every time we let Pope drive, nothing goes right.” You muttered as the car came to an abrupt stop, the hood still smoking. You heard the engine die as Pope put both hands on top of his head. 
“No, no, no…” He whined as he hopped out of the car, JJ following suit and helping you before jumping out himself.
“It’s gonna blow up.” Kie worried, crawling out of the passenger side herself. 
“It’s not gonna blow up.” JJ told her, coughing one last time and rounding the hood as Pope attempted to fan the smoke away with his hat. “You most likely unhooked the radiator, Pope.” JJ suggested, eyeing the state of the vehicle. “Damn, you knocked the entire hubcap off.”
“Yeah, the Limbrey’s might have to take a rain check for tonight.” You added, scratching the back of your neck and eyeing Pope pitifully. The boy had a look on his face — somewhere between terror and disbelief.
“There’s still, uh, public transportation?” Kiara tried to reason, not seeming completely sure about the suggestion herself. You took it upon yourself to life the hood and examine the parts yourself, picking up a little bit about cars here and there from JJ.
“Yeah, it’s definitely the radiator…” You said aloud, sighing. Pope groaned loudly behind you.
“My dad’s gonna kill me!”
“No, he won't. I’m sure-” You were about to reassure the boy before you took one glance back at the car. The smoking, hubcap-less, mess of a car. “Okay, he might. He might…”
“Look, Pope, buddy, I’m sure there’s somethin’ we can do, right?” JJ offered, putting a hand on the solemn boy’s shoulder. You took the time to pull out your phone, you didn’t have many bars out here but enough to open up the ‘Maps’ app on your phone.
“There’s a mechanic garage about fifteen miles south of here.” You announced, looking out at your three friends. “Think your dad’s truck can make it fifteen more miles?”
THE SUN HAD COMPLETELY SET BY THE TIME THE FOUR OF YOU MADE IT TO THE GARAGE. What should’ve been a mere thirty-minute car ride took nearly an hour, Pope being too afraid to drive more than twenty miles an hour and making a pit stop to check under the hood again.
The boy in question was inside, negotiating with the owner of the shop. It was some place called Archie’s Auto Repairs, right next to a gas station and rest stop. You figured you were killing about three birds with one stone – car repair, refuel, and food.
JJ and Kiara were waiting in the truck while Pope spoke to the man in charge and you went inside to relieve yourself and get snacks. You were in the gas station bathroom, finishing up with washing your hands when you looked at yourself in the mirror.
Surprisingly, you didn’t look like complete shit. Your hair was a bit frizzy and you look tired but you looked better than you had in the last month. You felt better than you had in the last month. Ever since that text from John B came through, it felt like everything was returning back to it’s normal state, like your life had hit the refresh button.
And maybe after everything settles and John B is cleared, things could be different but in a good way. This new life you were building, with JJ and Marley, it was starting to make you envision you had never really seen before. A life with JJ as something more than a best friend. You’d thought about him like that a few times throughout your friendship but it was JJ. You needed him and you didn’t want to ruin something so special because you had an on and off crush. But this one stuck. Maybe it was the kiss, or the almost sleeping together, you didn’t know. But something in your head was screaming at you to give it a shot. Something inside of you was reaching for him, calling out for him.
So maybe, once everything was okay again, you could figure that out.
Leaving the restroom, you cruised down the aisles of the shops — candy bars, chip bags, and sugary drinks, the whole selection look appetizing when you hadn’t eaten in over five hours. You grabbed four sodas and two family sized bags of chips and took them up to the register, the older, gross looking man eyeing you up and down as he scanned your items.
“That’ll be nineteen sixty-eight.” He slurred, bagging your goods as you fished for the twenty in your back pocket. “You’re a pretty little thang, aren’t ya? How old are ya, darlin’?” He asked, leaning his arms on the cashier’s counter, bumping the register. You cringed, sliding the bill across the surface.
“Not old enough.” You sassed, snatching the bag from the counter and leaving out the door, the bell ringing above you as you left. “Perv.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as your rounded the corner of the shop to see the truck come into view.
Just as quickly as you rounded the corner, you hid behind it. Your heart had stopped for a moment as your registered exactly what it was you had just seen. Biting your bottom lip, you slowly peeked your head around the corner to find that your eyes had in fact not deceived you — Kiara and JJ were kissing in the trunk of Heyward’s pick-up. She had both of her hands on his cheeks, pulling his face into hers as his own gripped the side of the truck for stability.
You immediately tore your eyes away when they pulled apart, hiding behind the wall once more. You couldn’t hear them. Maybe you were grateful for that. You were torn between wanting to cry and wanting lash out on them both. But maybe you had no right, maybe you were the fool in this situation.
It was JJ. JJ Maybank. Half of the female pogue population could probably describe in detail what was hidden beneath his pants. And Kiara? Well, who would turn her down? But she was supposed to be “with” Pope and JJ was giving you all types of green lights. But maybe you were blind and couldn’t see them for the red flags that they clearly were.
But you refused to cry. But that didn’t mean you weren’t pissed. You felt a bit played, in all honesty. And by JJ of all people. And how could Kie do that to Pope when he’s less than ten feet away? They weren’t together or anything, sure. But rules of friendship and respect just seemed so thrown out of the window in the past sixty seconds. 
So, shaking it off, you rounded the corner with the bag in hand. JJ was scratching the top of his head while Kie fiddled with her fingers in her lap before his eyes found you, immediately perking up.
“And the potty princess returns!” He threw his hands up in celebration. “Ooh, did she bring snacks? What’s in the bag?” He asked, coming closer. When he reached you, you pressed the bag into his chest, attempting to keep him at a distance. Letting him have the bag and not even sparing the two another glance, you hopped into the passenger side of the vehicle, absentmindedly slamming the door shut in your silent rage. You hadn’t realized that one of your hands was balled into a tight fist. Loosing your hand, you left crescent-shaped marks in your palm.
You didn’t know how you felt or what you wanted to do about. So you just sat there, listening to the night air, the crickets, the cars that passed by. You felt like JJ had just stomped on your heart and you weren’t even sure if you could be mad at him for it. But you should’ve known.
You’re a pogue. There’s always a calm before the storm. Nothing good comes without something bad.
A COUPLE HOURS HAD PASSED. Pope had found an empty field to park the truck in — shaded by a large, thriving willow tree. None of you really had enough money for a hotel and the money spent on one would be a waste, anyway. 
Surprisingly, there was no night chill in Charleston. The four of you opted to sleep in the trunk of the pick-up, using your jackets and flannels as blankets for comfort. You hadn’t spoken since witnessing what happened at the garage, even Pope was taking weird glances at you the entire ride.
At this moment, Pope was knocked out, Kiara right behind him. You felt a snarl of disgust edge your way onto your face when she leaned over to peck the curly-haired boy on his cheek before closing her own eyes and drifting off. What was she doing?
A part of you was angry that she and JJ kissed, of course. JJ had led you on with this ruse of giving yourselves time to figure out what was going between you two — whether is was grief-driven or genuine. And Kiara had been playing tug-o-war with Pope’s feelings for weeks, months almost, and the moment he has his back turned, she locks lips with his best friend.
As a friend group, you all had your moments. But you never went behind each other’s backs. Especially never like this.
So, you slept alone. As alone as you could, anyway. You were curled up in the farthest place in the trunk from the other three, closest to the front of the vehicle itself. The pit in your stomach was finally starting to settle as the beginning of sleep started to overtake you when a warm hand curled itself around your shoulder, startling you.
Your eyes shot open as you whipped your head to the side to find JJ’s face hovering over yours.
“Jesus.” You whisper-yelled, rolling your eyes before looking at the blonde once more. “What do you want?”
At your standoffish tone of voice and straight to the point question, the boy drew his lips into a thin line, letting his hand slide from your shoulder. “Okay, someone’s grumpy.” He tried to joke, a lazy smile on his face.
You stared blankly at him for a few beats, blinking. “Goodnight, JJ-”
“Okay, sorry sorry…” He protested quickly, looking behind him to make sure he didn’t wake the other two when the volume and pitch of his voice raised before looking back at you. You shifted to lay flat on your back, staring up at JJ as he stared down at you, leaning his weight on one of his arms. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been actin’ weird since we left that sketchy ass gas station.”
You simply cocked your head. “What’s wrong with me?” You whispered in response, an air of frustration surrounding your voice. “What’s wrong with you?”
He reeled his neck back at your reversal, his face twisting in confusion. “Wh-Nothing’s wrong with me. You basically threw a bag full of snacks at me and jumped into the truck. Did I say something? Was it the potty princess thing ‘cause you know I was just messin’ around.” He guessed, taking your lack of reaction and response as a sign that maybe that wasn’t the problem. “Did I do somethin’?”
“I don’t know, JJ. You tell me.” You pressed, eyes never leaving his own. He genuinely seemed to rake his brain for answers before settling on one that made your blood boil.
“No, I don’t think I did.” The statement sounded more like  a question when it tumbled from his lips. You couldn’t do anything but scoff and roll your eyes, prompting the blonde to try and clean up his answer. “Yes? I don’t know what you want me to say here-”
“Nothing.” You snapped. You were so hurt and angry that you could feel your eyes twitching as you looked at him. “I don’t want you to say anything else to me.” You warned, shifting to turn on your side and effectively away from him. “Ever again.”
“...C’mon, Y/N. Are you just fuckin’ with me or somethin’?” When you didn’t reply, he put a hand on your shoulder, attempting to pull you over to face him. You just shook him off. “Can you tell me what I did?”
The sadness in his voice almost made all the anger fall from your bones but you couldn’t allow yourself to be the weak and vulnerable. Especially not for him. Not anymore.
“No. Now, leave me alone.” You mumbled, shifting to get comfortable for the last time, hearing him sigh and lay down himself behind you. You felt one single tear fall across the bridge of your nose before you closed your eyes. Maybe it was a misunderstanding or something, but your brain couldn’t come up with any explanation of excuse that could explain what you saw. You wanted to talk about it but then again you didn’t. But you knew eventually you’d have to, tonight just wasn’t that night. In a million years, you never thought you’d feel this way because of your best friend.
For the first time in your entire life, you didn’t trust JJ.
“THEY’VE RUN CHARLESTON FOR, LIKE, THREE-THOUSAND YEARS.” Pope explained as the truck pulled to a stop in front of a large, three-story, gated property. It was the next morning and the sun had quite literally just set in the sky. Pope had woken the three of you up at the very first crack of dawn so you could make it there ‘on time’. You’d tried to remind him that ‘on time’ would’ve been last night, but you let him hang on to hope.
It didn’t help that the truck was significantly more crowded. You weren’t eager to sit on JJ’s lap this time around and surprisingly, Kiara wasn’t eager to take your place. Thankfully, the house was only a couple hours from where you slept.
“These Kooks make our Kooks look like Pogues.” JJ proclaimed, staring out of the window and up at the large, standing building. “You sure this is the place, Pope?” He asked, in awe of the property.
“Pretty sure.” The boy sighed, opening the driver’s side door and exiting, JJ following right after as you and Kie exited the vehicle as well, closing the doors behind them. The four you walked up the black, wrought iron fence. Pope held the note in his hands, reading off the address in confirmation.
“Talk about home security…” JJ trailed off, looking at the rather sizeable, sharp points at the top of the fence.
“Are those spikes to keep people out?” Kiara inquired.
Taking a good look at the property through the bars, you noticed a couple of things. You shook your head, a look of disappointment on your face. “No.” You spoke for the first time in hours, the three of them turning to you as you pointed to a section of the yard. “The slave quarters are over there.” You explained, looking at the three of them. “The spikes were to keep people in.” Was the last thing you said before heading up the steps to the front door, the three of them following behind you.
You let Pope take the reigns when you reached the door, him knocking three times on the structure before you heard heavy footsteps coming towards it from the other side. Despite the footsteps, almost a whole minute went by before anything happened.
Pope, nervous and jittery, went to knock again — getting two good ones in before someone opened the door. A middle-aged white man with small, beady eyes and short light brown hair. The expression on his face didn’t look like one of someone who was expecting guests.
Leaning against the door frame, he eyed the four you individually before settling on Pope, an odd smile growing on his features as he pointed at you friend. “You must be Pope.” He said almost excitedly, crossing his arms. Pope stumbled for a response. “Ms. Limbrey was expecting you yesterday.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. My car…broke down on the way up here.” Pope explained, trying to mask his  uneasiness. 
“Carburetor blew up in the middle of Nowheresville.” JJ voiced from behind Pope. He didn’t look nervous at all, he looked ready for anything. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He said, little emotion to his voice despite the apology.
“Yeah, she was, uh, real upset when you didn’t show up.” The man told Pope, a southern twang to his voice, almost as strong as Shoupe’s. 
“We tried to call but there’s no number on the invitation.” Kiara piped up smally, looking at the invitation as she spoke. “We got here as fast as we could…”
“She also expected you to come alone.” The male said, eyeing you, Kiara, and JJ as he said it. 
“Well, he didn’t, so…” You added in, crossing your arms and eyeing the man up and down. “Where’s the ‘she’ with all these demands anyway?”
Pope edged in front of you when the man took a threatening step forward, JJ also shuffling forwards. “Look, these are my friends. They helped find the Royal Merchant, too-”
“The instructions were explicit.” He cut Pope off mid-sentence, eyes boring into yours as he leaned forward, his voice lowering to a condescending whisper. “Your friends…can stay outside.” He reprimanded, straightening out and turning back to Pope.
“We’re kind of a package deal, man.” JJ turned his nose up at the man standing between the four of you and the inside of the house. 
Pope turned to the blonde. “JJ, it’s okay. I got this.” He assured, sending a small nod his way. JJ took his words at face value, sending a nod in return and taking a step back. 
“We’ll be right here…” Kiara trailed off in support, sliding a gentle hand down the length of Pope’s arm. You simply rolled your eyes, something JJ didn’t fail to notice. 
“We’ll keep the car running…” You warned, eyes never leaving the suspicious man in the doorframe. 
“Well, c’mon now. Ms.Limbrey can’t wait to see you.” He said, stepping aside to allow a weary Pope into the mansion. The boy in question entered the home, not without a glance back at the three of you out on the front step, the door closing menacingly slow behind him.
“Fucking creep.” You scoffed, turning and heading down the steps swiftly.
“Hey, where are you going?” Kiara asked, running after you, watching as you walked the length of the wrought iron fence, examining the spikes. 
“What does it look like? I’m gonna find a way into this…house of horrors.” You mumbled, shaking each of the poles for a weak spot, failing to find one. You resorted to attempting to climb the fence but didn’t even manage to get both feet up onto the structure at once. 
“And do what exactly? What if you trespass and ruin all our chances at clearing John B’s name?” The girl asked, her face twisting in annoyance as you sighed and hopped down off the fence, turning to face her. Shifting your weight, you shoved your hands into your back pockets before speaking.
“Oh, like you did when you made Pope drop the camera?.” You shrugged, jutting out your bottom lip. “Y’know, the one that had the video of Ward killing someone-”
“That wasn’t even my fault!” She defended.
“I think we all collectively agreed that it was…” You argued nonchalantly, shooting the girl a grimace before walking off in the direction of the parked truck that JJ was leaning against, watching the entire interaction occur.
Before you’d turned away you could’ve swore Kiara opened her mouth to reply, but one warning head shake from JJ and her lips were sealing themselves shut. You were about to open the passenger door when JJ’s hand gripped your upper arm, the blonde staring out in front of him with a stoic yet pointed look on his face.
“Can you let go of me-”
“Does that look voluntary?” He asked, tone deep. You followed his unwavering gaze to find a blonde woman and the man who opened the door leading Pope further into the yard behind the gate. Pope was looking back pitifully at the three of you as the man pushed him forward and the woman, a cane by her side and a limp in her walk, led them both further into the greenery.
“Not at all.” You practically whispered back, attempting to take a step forward when JJ tightened his grip. 
“Hold on, hold on.” You turned to him an impatient and questioning look on your face, throwing a hand out as a way to ask ‘what?’. “They’re goin’ around the back alley.” He said hurriedly, rounding the driver’s side of the truck as you hopped in the passenger side, Kie piling in beside you. “We’ll meet ‘em on the other side.”
JJ started the car, driving it slowly in order to draw too much suspicion — with the Limbreys or surrounding neighbors. You could almost hear all three of your hearts beating in panicked unison with every turn made. You didn’t know what these people wanted with Pope, but if they didn’t drop this whole super secret act, they wouldn’t be getting anything.
Driving and driving, and still no Pope. JJ eyes were focused ahead as you and Kiara looked to the sides of the road for any sign of him. “Where did they go?” Kie asked, peering out of the window. She sounded sad. The trio of you continued driving around, Pope nowhere in sight. You were starting to get worried, extremely worried.
If the Limbreys were like the Camerons of Charleston, there was no telling what they could be doing with your friend right now.
“Okay, stop the car.” You said, putting your hands on the dashboard.
“What?” JJ asked, although he slowed the vehicle down, bringing it to a stop on the side of the road. You reached over key and threw the passenger door open before climbing over the girl. “Where the hell are you going-”
“Ouch, that’s my- Ow!” Kie shouted.
You threw yourself out of the vehicle before standing up and dusting yourself off, looking side to side before deciding to go back in the direction the alley was in. Even if you didn’t see Pope, there was a way in and there was no way in hell you weren’t taking it.
You set off quickly in the direction of the alley, Kiara and JJ calling out for you before two pairs of footsteps were trailing behind you. You passed a few people on the sidewalk, unintentionally shoulder-checking them in your haste.
“Watch it!”
“Hey! Rude…”
Reaching the alley, you made a sharp turn into the greenery. You could hear grunts and groans that stopped you in your tracks — you were no stranger to the sounds of violence. Your power walk turned into a sprint, pushing leaves and branches out of your path before reaching Pope, who was beating on the creep who opened the door.
He had him pinned down to the concrete, both of them reaching for what seemed to be a taser. Your eyes fleeted between the two brawling guys and the weapon before you decided to kick the object behind you in the direction of Kiara and JJ.
Pope delivered one last blow to the man’s face before getting up. “C’mon.” You demanded, being the first to run away, back in the direction of the truck. The four of you took the short way — hopping over a cement wall that guarded a small portion of the yard. 
The car was a few feet away since you ditched the scenic route, the four of you wasting no time in jumping in. JJ in the driver’s seat with the three of you piled in as well.
“Who the hell were those people?” Kiara panicked, out of breath as she slammed the passenger door shut.
“I don’t know but they’re crazy as shit!” Pope’s voice cracked as he settled into the vehicle. “We need to get out of here now.” He warned, wide eyes drifting in JJ’s direction as the blonde started the engine and hit the gas almost all in one motion as the vehicle leaped forward, sending you all down the road.
Near moments after JJ had hit the gas, leaving a smoke trail in his wake, you looked behind you to see a car speeding behind you, the fishbowl windows allowing you to see the driver clearly. “Creepy guy recovers fast.” You panted, looking back ahead of you and prompting JJ to peek in the rearview mirror, pressing the gas a little harder.
“Here we go now!”
Heyward’s truck was going faster than you ever deemed possible, flying down the road. “Hey, JJ, slow down. This is a one-way.” Pope warned, the truck never slowing down. JJ was too focused to hear much of anything, you were gripping the seat for dear life. “This is a one-way!” Pope got louder as JJ started to reach a busier part of the town. A car suddenly appeared in front of you, the headlights blinding.
“Car, JJ! There’s a car!” You warned, grabbing a hold of the steering wheel yourself and making a right turn before the truck could collide with the SUV. Rounding the corner, you almost collided with two pedestrians — the two heads of blonde and light-brown hair looking eerily familiar for the slightest of moments.
“Jesus, look out!” Pope and Kiara said in unison as JJ took back control of the wheel and avoided hitting the two people.
“Get out of the road!” JJ shouted as he redirected the car on the street.
“Those were pedestrians!” Kiara reprimanded, gripping the passenger door for stability. 
“That was evasive driving technique right there, y’all!” JJ patted himself on the back as you turned to look out of the rear window to see the man still hot on your trail.
“You sure about that ‘cause he’s still following us.” You warned, looking at the blonde for the briefest of moments.
“Hang on, I’ll lose him.” JJ assured you all, making a sharp turn that sent the three of you crashing into each other. Just as he turned into an empty alley, a pop sound following a hiss of air and smoke came from the truck. “I thought you said he fixed carburetor!”
“He did!” Pope said as the car came to a stop of its own.
“No, Pope, he clearly did not!” JJ retorted as he opened the door, Kie doing the same on the passenger side. The four of you got out of the truck, fanning the air and coughing.
“Number one rule, never trust mechanics.” JJ spoke mainly to himself as you all grabbed whatever you brought along with you out of the trunk of the car just as the car following you pulled in the alley as well. “Shit. Go, go, go!”
The four of you booked, the smoke hopefully giving you a bit of time as you ran through the alley. You and Kiara looked behind you as you ran, seeing the man get out of his own car and tuck something into his jacket.
“He has a gun.” You muttered, looking back ahead as you ran. “He has a fucking gun!”
Pope and JJ glanced behind themselves, past you and Kie to see the man not far behind. The squad of you picked up the pace, making the first turn available but you swore you heard someone calling your names.
The man was picking up the pace as well, getting closer to you all. “We might have to split up!” JJ suggested from the forefront of the group.
“Are you crazy?” You shouted, being right behind the blonde. “No way!” You continued, almost tripping over an unleveled section of the concrete. JJ, not paying attention, ran into a mailman, sending the packages in his hand flying into the air.
“Sorry ‘bout that!” He apologized over his shoulder. JJ led you all into another alley, this one much narrower causing you all to run in a line. The guy was falling behind, which was a plus.
Coming out of the alley, you all came face to face with a couple on a bike almost getting run over by them. But after taking a longer look at the two people who almost pummeled you all with their bike, your heart dropped farther down in your body than it ever has.
Every single one of your five senses seemed to cease to exist in this moment. You couldn’t hear anything, white noise filling your ears as your vision blurred on the edges, only allowing you to see what you could only logically explain as two ghosts standing in front of you — a very much alive John B Routeledge and Sarah Cameron standing in front of you, covering in mud and dirt and who knows what else.
Whatever breath you had been holding in your lungs released itself, the release of air allowing your senses to return, almost like coming up out of the water.
All of your expressions were somewhere in between a blank stare and a smile. You wanted to reach a hand out to see if they were real.
“...Get in. Get in! Get in!” John B broke the silence. His voice hadn’t changed. It was exactly like you remembered. The four of you did as he said, still partially in shock, piling into the bike. You, Kiara, and Sarah crowded into the cab of the pedicab as JJ and Pope pushed it from the back as John B pedaled as hard as he could. 
You couldn’t take your eyes off of his back as he pedaled, unless of course it was to direct the same blank stare in Sarah’s direction. The Limbrey guy plus two other men were chasing the group of you now, JJ and Pope hopping onto the sides after it gained enough speed to ride smoothly with the six of you on it.
The entire ride to the boat, your friends were whooping and cheering. And on the inside you couldn’t be happier or more relieved at how well the universe seemed to work in your favor but for some reason, your body wasn’t so eager to show it on the outside. 
For a whole month, you’d grieved someone who wasn’t dead.
Once you reached one of Ward’s boats the Sarah knew the location of — My Druthers Too, you all wasted no time jumping into it, sailing in the direction of The Outer Banks. Back home.
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feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.
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ludicdoll · 4 months
Text
𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐔𝐏 — farleigh start ☆
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pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader
warnings: farleigh being a little bitch, cussing, smut, eating u out like chinese takeout, a little banter, lowkey enemies to lovers type of thing
synopsis: you spend your first few days of summer at the saltburn estate. luckily for you, farleigh doesn’t seem to like you that much.
a/n: working on a few requests rnnn send in some moree!! this is for my stinkabutt @uch3na
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you spread out on the lounge chair, silently sun bathing as you ponder at a magazine. you watch as felix and farleigh swim around in the vast pond. you turn your head over to venetia, smoking in front of you. she’s laid out with a towel underneath her, looking very intrigued with what she’s reading. you had been friends with her for a while now, and to your surprise, she had invited you to spend the summer at the saltburn estate. she had to convince you for weeks until you said finally said yes. you close your eyes, breathing in the fresh summer air. suddenly, you feel a giant wave of water drenching you. you yelp, immediately sitting up to see venetia quickly running back.
“what the fuck?” venetia yells out. the two boys laugh to themselves, a satisfied look on farleigh’s face. “you’re such an ass!” she grabs her stuff hastily as she sets her stuff back down elsewhere. you roll your eyes when you see farleigh waving his fingers at you mockingly.
you flip over your towel, placing on your shades before laying back down. after a while, you hear the sound of water sloshing around. farleigh gets out of the water, grabbing his towel from the grass. you watch as he pats himself down before joining you on the lounge chair next to you. he reaches over to the table, lighting up a cigarette. you hear him sigh in relief as he adjusts himself in the chair. “slutty bikini,” he mumbles under his breath. you turn, lifting your sunglasses up to get a better view of his face, “excuse you?” he turns back, his hand reaching out to you, another cigar between his fingers. he’s offering you one. you shake your head roughly, “i don’t smoke.” you reply. he scoffs, you can tell he’s rolling his eyes behind those sunglasses. “of course you don’t,” he murmured as he places the cigarette back in the pack.
“it’s harmful,” you start, “i’m trying to keep my body clean.” he almost laughs in your face when you finish your sentence. “yea, well you drink like a sailor.” you turn to him, scowling. “you run through ten packs of cigs each day.” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “so? you’re the one that drinks away all of your problems.” he grumbled. you sit up, almost offended at his snarky remark. “oh c’mon, farleigh calm down.” felix intervenes. you lean back into your chair, crossing your arms. felix gets off the floatie in the water, walking over to you two. he stops abruptly, taking a sip from the cold lemonade on the table before placing his hands on his hips. felix turns his head back and forth to you and farleigh, a frown on his face. “this doesn’t sound like harmless banter anymore.” he says. farleigh shrugs, avoiding eye contact. “let it rest.” felix directs to farleigh before jumping back into the water. you huff in frustration, ignoring farleigh muttering quiet insults towards you.
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you stir your soup with your spoon, glancing around occasionally to everyone else at the dinner table. you were surprised to see that everyone was almost halfway finished with their food, venetia on the other hand was just staring down at her bowl. “dear, aren’t you going to eat?” elspeth asks with a motherly smile on her face, you look over to her end of the table, nervously biting your bottom lip. to be frank, the soup was disgusting. you didn’t know what it was, but it was gross. “i happen to have an upset stomach tonight, im sorry.” you reply. “really?” farleigh buds in. “you seemed to be perfectly fine during brunch.” he says while slurping the soup into his mouth. you see venetia roll her eyes at him. elspeth turns back at you, almost like she was waiting for an answer. you furrow your brows at farleigh, pissed with his childish behavior.
“maybe i’ve gotten a stomach bug.” you say to elspeth with a smile. she nods before going back to her food. felix stares at farleigh, almost like he was communicating with his eyes. whatever it was, farleigh had stayed quiet for the entirety of the meal. after dinner — everyone said goodnight, then went their separate ways to their bedrooms. you walk up to your guest bedroom, undressing yourself from the fancy dress you were forced to put on for dinner into your night gown. you make your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth. coincidentally, your bedroom was right next to farleigh’s. due to your rooms being so close, you could hear farleigh blasting music. you groan, spitting out your toothpaste and jumping back in bed.
you stare up at the ceiling, trying to ignore farleigh’s music through the walls. after a few minutes, you turn to your side, covering your ears with the pillow — still, nothing worked to muffle the sounds. you sit up, throwing your legs over the bed and walking down the hall to farleigh’s room. you don’t bother knocking, just barging in. farleigh’s in bed, an arm behind his head while the other was flipping through a magazine. you turn a knob on his radio, the volume lowers. you clear your throat, arms crossed. annoyed, farleigh drops his magazine into his lap, looking over at you in his doorway. he sits up, leaning back on the palm of his hands. he tilts his head to the side, raising a brow.
“what the fuck is your problem, why are you still up at this hour?” you whisper-yell. he rolls his eyes, looking into his lap. “are you trying to piss me off?” you push again, “you know, people are trying to sleep.” farleigh scoffs, lulling his head back. “and? this isn’t your home.” he snaps back. you stretch out your arms before they fall to your side. “this isn’t yours either, more like a personal fucking playground.” you reply. “you keep trying to start shit with me ever since i got here.” he straightens up, acting intrigued in what you had to say. “you know, i don’t understand why venetia likes you so much. i can see right through you.”
you widen your eyes, almost laughing at his response. “yea? i’m just trying to have a good summer, and i don’t give a shit what you think. you need to lay off, it’s getting annoying.” your hands settle on your hips. he glares at you in silence, an irritated look on his face. “if you don’t give a shit, why are you in my room?” he says with an arrogant smirk on his face. you stutter, trying to think of something to say. “because you’re blasting your music at twelve in the fucking morning.” you point to his radio, crossing your arms back in front of your chest. “keep it down, and maybe i won’t bother you.”
“i find that hard to believe.” farleigh breathes out as he picks up the magazine again. he start flipping through the pages like he’s reading, occasionally looking over at you with that same smug look. you stomp closer to the end of his bed, pointing an accusing finger at him. “i swear, if you keep pulling this bullshit with me, i’m gonna make sure the remainder of your summer goes to shit.” you threaten, he doesn’t react, only looking up at you with an amused expression. he closes the magazine before sliding off the bed and walking towards you. you step back as he gets closer, his height towering over you. you swallow, a nervous knot forming in your stomach. “you’re not gonna do anything.” he breathes out.
your only a few inches away from his face when you feel a hand travel up to the back of your neck, his lips grazing over yours. the sudden movement causes you to whimper. he looks down at you, his eyes filled with passion. his hands find their way to your waist. he pushes you against the closed door — kissing your neck. you moan, rolling your head back. “i fucking hate you,” you whisper. “i know,” he says while his hand gropes your breasts. the ache between your legs spreads throughout your body like a fever, and farleigh could sense it. he plays around with the lace hem of your panties, his breath brushing up against your ear.
you groan, grabbing at his hand. “stop doing that.” you whimper, “stop doing what?” he asks smugly. you stay quiet — realizing he’s amused by your slight whining. he flashes a smirk at you, his fingers making their way to your pussy. farleigh kisses down your chest, you feel himself grind against your stomach while his fingers spread you out. you bite back a moan when farleigh ghosts past your clit, teasing you. he watches your face closely as he slides his fingers inside of you slowly. your knees feel weak, trembling under his touch. “if you hate me so much, why are you soaked?” he questions. you avoid his question while looking away. he tilts his head the to side to kiss you, his fingers sliding in and out of you.
“fuck, farleigh.” you moan softly trying to keep your voice down so the whole family doesn’t hear you. farleigh rubs circles over your clit, his eyes locked onto you. he keeps his pace slow and deliberate — almost like he was mocking you. he liked keeping you on your toes, constantly needing all of him. “how long have you pretended to hate me, huh?” he groans out as you squirm. you roll your eyes from the pleasure, but also from his conceited question. “shut up.” he laughs, shrugging before going in to kiss your parted lips. he pulls his fingers out, the wet squelching sounds making you slightly embarrassed. he ghosts his thumb over your clit again, smirking. “c’mere,” he mutters as he softly tugs you close to the bed.
you lay down on the comforter, your legs handing off the edge of the bed. you watch as he kneels down, kissing up from your calves to your thighs carefully. the tension in the room is heavy, thick with desire and lust. he kisses the inner part of your thigh before moving his lips closer to your clothed pussy. you feel him press a kiss on the fabric before he slides them off to your ankles. his face is hidden under your silk dress, but you don’t need to see him to vision his pretty brown eyes looking up at you. he licks at your dripping cunt, lifting your legs up to rest atop his broad shoulders.
his sharp teeth grazes your sensitive flesh, nipping and kissing your thighs until his bite marks sinks into your skin. he’s sloppy, burying his face deep between your legs, and lapping at your clit repeatedly, drooling all over it and groping at your thighs. he clings onto your figure, suffocating himself with your legs and your pretty pussy. “mhm, mmm..” he hums out. farleigh doesn’t wanna breathe, just wants to continue fucking you with his mouth until he makes a mess out of you. he wants you to feel embarrassed and ashamed of letting him do this to you.
farleigh groans under the dress, his cruel tongue swirling over your swollen clit. you curl your toes, biting down on your bottom lip to hide your lewd sighs. he licks a long stripe down your pussy, savoring your taste on his tongue. you tense up when you feel his tongue seeping inside of you. his soft hands come up to grip your skin, his nails digging into the plush of your soft thighs. “just like that,” you arch your back, gripping onto the blanket for dear life. one of his hands come back down to your pussy, his thumb playing around with your clit. you whine at the sensitivity as you start tearing up. you were pissed at yourself for enjoying this moment so much, farleigh was never going to let this night go. he would use this against you in every argument, maybe even blackmail you with this.
his nose presses up against your pussy as he eats you out like a desperate starved man. “farleigh, please, please let me cum — oh fuck!” you moan loudly when his circular motions on your clit intensifies, causing you to beg and cry for that sweet release you wanted so badly. farleigh continues to flick his tongue deep inside of you, your wetness all over his face. you hear him groaning as you realize you’re reaching your peak. your dripping cunt is throbbing in arousal, your hair is a disheveled mess, your night gown has now completely fallen down your shoulders. you arch your back, feeling the sudden ecstasy run through your body like electricity. you sob when you feel yourself squirting all over farleigh’s face, your body jolting up from the sudden pleasure. you shiver, realizing you’re too weak to get up.
farleigh peaks his head up from under your nightgown, his eyes glued onto your pussy dripping with his saliva and your cum. he has a light playful smirk on his face, not too noticeable in the dim atmosphere in his room. you see his spit and your wetness dripping down his chin. he pulls your legs up to your chest, watching as his fingers slide down the folds of your pussy one last time before licking his hands off. your tears are dried on your face, glossy eyes looking up at his large towering figure. farleigh leans down just inches away from your face. “you still hate me now?” he asks.
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© do not publish my writings on other sites.
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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months
Text
Yandere Baki Series:
Daylight Dancer
Yandere Katsumi Orochi x Fem Reader
TW: yandere behavior
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Slam! A fist roughly collided with a sandbag once… twice… thrice. Yet it didn’t feel like enough… it never felt like enough. Katsumi didn’t feel like enough.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to kill the thing.” Katsumi turned his head to see his adopted father, Doppo, stand in the doorway. “Something on your mind?”
Katsumi sighed before he gave his dad a slight smile. “You got me… it’s about (your name).”
Doppo clicked his tongue. His son has been enamored with that woman since childhood and he still hasn’t confessed… it was kind of depressing.
“What is it this time?” Katsumi sighed at his dad’s question before he tried to give a reading smile.
“Her and I have known each other for so long… I’ve like- no. I can see a future with her. Marriage and kids, the whole nine yards!” Katsumi shook his head and sighed. “I’ve loved her for years and yet… I don’t feel like I’m enough-“
“Katsumi. You’re running the Shinshinkai dojo at your age and you’re quite successful. You’re not bad on the eyes either.” Doppo chuckled. “So why don’t you feel like enough?”
Katsumi nervously shifted his gaze to the dojo’s floor. He couldn’t believe he was about to admit this… “I have a bit of competition-“
“Then grow a pair and confess.” Doppo crossed his arms over one another. The older man cocked his head to the side. “You’re making it more difficult than it has to be.”
“It’s Jack Hanma and Hanayama Kaoru… I’m not as big as they are-“
Doppo loudly laughed at his son’s plight. He was worried over height? Goodness, this was so cute, it was pathetic. “Katsumi, you will live your entire life regretting not telling her you love her.”
Katsumi froze when Doppo put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “And I don’t want you to be unhappy.”
Katsumi gave his dad a slight smile. “Thanks, dad. I’ll confess.”
.
.
.
Katsumi beamed when (your name) arrived to the cafe he invited her to. The Karateka quickly shot up from his chair and embraced her in a hug, his muscular form easily picked her up to swing her legs back and forth. His heart fluttered at (your name)’s joyful giggles.
“You act as if we haven’t seen each other in months when it’s only been a week!” (Your name) gave Katsumi a bright smile, the same smile that always made his knees weak. Katsumi burned her sunny image into his memory.
(Your name) felt a blush crawl on her cheeks from how intense Katsumi’s gaze was. “D-do I have something on my face? You know you can tell me those sorts of things…”
Katsumi chuckled but gave her his signature smirk. “No, you’re just beautiful.”
Katsumi felt his chest swell with pride when her face turned into a shade of cherry red. How cute!
“You’re stupid…” Katsumi and (your name) moved to the table as they went over their menu together. They were childhood friends so there was no awkwardness, only playful banter. The kind that sailed more smoothly than any ship. The two of them were perfect together… and Katsumi just needed her to see that.
Katsumi sucked in a deep breath before he placed his menu down. “You’re probably wondering why I invited you here so suddenly…”
(Your name) perked up and gave Katsumi a smile. “I just figured you missed me. You’ve always been like this.”
Katsumi felt himself fill with hope. Yes… he’s always loved her. Being by her side was second nature to him, Katsumi needed her as much as he needed to breathe. His life would be meaningless without her or karate. She was his other half…
“This is hard for me to say…” Katsumi sucked in a breath. “I love you.”
(Your name) froze when Katsumi confessed, her heart hammered in her chest at his flushed expression. A few of his black hairs now disheveled as he shyly scratched the back of his head.
Katsumi’s pupils were dilated and his breathing was irregular, he was telling the truth… how could she not see it before?
“I have loved you for so many years and I was so scared to lose you. I was afraid…” Katsumi held his hands together. “I promised myself I’d confess if I won my fight with Pickle… but I lost. So I kept putting it off, I was hopeful to show my strength to you. That I was capable of protecting you from everything evil in this world… that I could provide you with whatever you need. It’s why I worked so hard to make the dojo better.”
(Your name) sat there as Katsumi continued to ramble, his face became redder by the minute. “I tried to forget it, but I couldn’t. There’s others that love you too, and I told myself that I’d be happy if you were… but that’s a lie.” Katsumi glanced up at (your name) who remained as still as water. “I would only ever be if you were with me. I don’t want to share you with any other man. I’d go mad if you had a child with another man or called him your husband… so I’m here today to tell you how I feel. I had to tell you or else I would regret it.”
Katsumi reached forward and held her hand. “So what do you say? Is this all one sided-“
Katsumi was surprised when (your name) leaned across the table and pressed a kiss to his hooked nose.
“Katsumi, I like you too.” (Your name) smiled at him. “Why do you think I was rejecting so many guys over the years?”
Katsumi froze before a dreamy smile crawled on his lips. The young man quickly went around the table to pull her into a hug.
The two laughed while Katsumi swung her around. He was so happy… he was so happy (your name) chose him.
There was no telling what extremes he was willing to go for her to say yes… her acceptance just made the entire situation that much easier! He swore he’d make her happy…
If only the two turned to glance out the cafe’s window to see a brooding Jack Hanma out there. And he was not happy.
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vsnyarbll · 1 year
Text
A Targaryen prince is a heavy burden
atpiahb masterlist, part1, part2, part3, part4, part5
main masterlist
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader, platonic!Aegon II Targaryen x reader
words: 1.287
summary: Aemond is cheating on his wife with Alys Rivers. y/n finds out.
warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, mentions of death, mentions of non-consensual sex
a/n: English is not my native language
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y/n was sitting on the window bench. Her eyes were puffy and red from days of crying.
She lifted her wine glass to her lips, but it was empty. She reached for the decanter beside her to fill it and knocked it over. The wine spilled on the cushions of the bench and the hem of her dress.
Her hand holding the glass trembled, and she put it on the marble in front of the window.
y/n clenched her trembling hands and tried to calm herself, but her eyes filled, and her vision blurred. She put her hand over her mouth and tried to stifle her sobs.
Aegon got up from his chair. He came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder.
"It will be all right."
"No, Aegon, it won't. He doesn't want me," she said between sobs.
Aegon sat next to her, ignoring the wine on the cushions.
"He had been going to her since the first day of our marriage. He always told me he had a mission that could take weeks.”
Aegon did not comment and averted his eyes.
"How could I have been so stupid," she said.
Two weeks ago, she found out that Aemond had cheated on her. They had been married for two years, and almost every month, he would get on his dragon and be gone for a week or two.
y/n kept reminding herself that he was a prince and had duties. But Aemond was cheating on her with a woman named Alys Rivers, and his affair with her even predated their marriage.
"He married me so he could inherit my father's lands."
Aegon reached out and patted her arm.
Like many in the castle, he had known this for a long time.
The Queen, the King, the lords, and their wives, everyone knew. That was why they had looked at her with pitying eyes at her wedding and when she first moved into the palace.
Even the servants in the castle felt sorry for her.
It was common for high-ranking married men to have affairs with other women. But it was not considered appropriate for them to have a lover.
"I thought he loved me," she said, turning to Aegon.
xxx
In the evening of that day, the wet nurse came to her room, holding Aemond's and y/n's son, born a week earlier.
Aemond was not with her at the birth of their son. He wasn't even in the castle.
Aegon had waited outside the room during the birth.
The queen had come to her room after the birth to hold her grandson.
y/n’s parents lived three weeks away and were unable to come when she went into labor.
She had to deal alone with the thing she feared most in life.
She was all alone.
After giving birth, one of her trusted ladies-in-waiting told her about Aemond's mistress.
y/n took her son in her arms from the wet nurse. And she buried her nose in his head.
He was the son of the man she loved.
Her eyes were full as she rocked him back and forth in her arms.
She could not go back to her family. Her parents, as much as they loved her, could not accept such a thing. She was married and her new home was The Red Keep, next to her husband.
The door to their room opened, and her husband came in.
His hair was disheveled because he had come to the castle with his dragon. Aemond looked at his wife as he closed the door.
When he saw the baby in her arms, his throat tightened. "I didn't know. I found out the moment I arrived at the castle."
He walked toward his wife and reached for the baby in her arms, but y/n pressed him against her chest.
Aemond paused and dropped his hands to his sides. "My mother said you gave birth to a boy."
"Yes, I did."
He nodded.
"All alone," she said.
"I would have come earlier if my mission-
"Your mission?" she laughed nervously. "What was that mission, Aemond, to fuck that witch?"
He didn't answer, but the muscles in his jaw tightened.
"I could have died in childbirth." Then, she paused briefly. "Of course, you'd be happy if I died. Since I gave you a son, it doesn't matter if I live.”
"You've learned."
"Yes, Aemond! I've learned!"
Aemond continued to maintain silence. His silence infuriated her even more.
"You won't say anything? Won't you defend yourself? Don't I deserve even a simple apology?"
"There is nothing to defend," he said and approached her. "She's been in my life since I was 19."
y/n couldn't hold back her tears this time. She couldn't remember how many times she had cried that day.
"Can I hold my son?"
She looked at him incredulously. "If you want to hold him, and if you want to be in his life in the future, you will leave that woman."
Aemond took a deep breath. "I can't, y/n."
"Why? Why can't you?!"
"Because she's pregnant."
y/n didn't know how much more upset and angry she could feel. "So after years of bullying your nephews, you made your Strong bastard?"
At that moment, the baby stirred restlessly in her arms and slowly opened his eyes. y/n started rocking him back to sleep.
"Don't make me choose between you."
"Do you hear yourself?! I'm your wife. You already made that choice by marrying me.”
Her son wouldn't fall asleep and started to cry. The tension in the room had affected him too. Aemond reached for him once more. This time she let Aemond take him. She couldn't bear to hear her baby cry, even though she felt guilty for feeling that way.
He looked down at his son in his arms, smiling. He placed a kiss on his head. With his eyes still on him, he spoke. "Was Aegon not enough to fill my absence?"
y/n's eyes widened. "Do you realize what you are accusing me of? I am not you, Aemond."
"The courtiers are not blind, y/n. As I set foot in the castle, they told me how much Aegon enjoyed spending time in our chambers."
She backed away and sat on the bed.
y/n folded her hands in her lap and began to play with her fingers.
Aegon was another matter.
Nothing inappropriate had happened between them, but she felt safe and at peace around him.
She always felt his gaze on her in crowded places.
His facial expression when he looked at her would sometimes cause her face to warm up.
Aemond came to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "If he comes near you again, I will cut off his hands."
She looked up to lock eyes with Aemond. "You impregnate another woman and then turn around and question my honor." She laughed to herself. "That's so like you."
y/n wanted him to be angry too. She wanted him to hurt even a little, but there was not a trace of emotion on the one-eyed prince's face.
"I'm going to take our son to his wet nurse. It wouldn't be right for him to sleep here tonight. I miss my wife."
"Do you think I'd bed with you after all you've done?"
Aemond spoke as he walked towards the door. "You have to. It's your duty as my wife."
As he opened the door, he turned and spoke for the last time before leaving the room. "Besides, everyone will expect me to have another heir."
As y/n looked at where Aemond had just stood, she remembered what her mother had said on their wedding day.
‘A Targaryen prince is a heavy burden.’
next chapter
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thirstyforlulu · 9 months
Text
Have a random drabble for an idea I had
Prompt: You are a higher up Hellsing employee who has worked with Alucard and Seras in the past. You have a complicated relationship with Alucard that includes snide remarks and aggressive late night rendezvous. Unfortunately, Alucard uses his strength to his advantage, and whenever you need his help, he makes you pay a very specific price
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You groaned with frustration when you realized the unfortunate situation you had found yourself in. The mission that had been assigned to you and Seras was proving to be too difficult, and you worried that if the two of you continued to press on, one of you could get seriously injured. You needed someone else, someone more powerful to help you, and there was only one man for the job.
“Y/N, are you sure master won’t be mad if we ask him for help?” Seras muttered as the two of you walked down the stairs to Alucard’s room.
“Trust me, dear, he won’t,” You replied.
The further down the stairs you got, the more oppressive the air became. His aura was intimidating and could be felt for miles. When you got to the door, it was nearly suffocating.
You pushed it open, revealing the long, empty room where Alucard’s throne lay. It was dark, and your eyes took some time to adjust but you could clearly see his bright red irises glowing from across the room. Once you adjusted, you could see that he was sitting in his chair relaxed with a bottle of wine and a glass next to him on the table.
He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just stared you down silently, challenging you. Meeting that challenge, you confidently strode forward with a glare on your face. It wasn’t until you were about 8 feet from him that he finally spoke up.
“Why have you come to bother me tonight?” He asked, a hint of annoyance in his tone
“We need your help. The mission we’ve been assigned is proving to be too much for us to handle,” You explained, voice even and clear.
Seras stayed a step behind you, watching her master closely. She nibbled her bottom lip nervously as she waited for his response.
“So you’ve come to me because you’re too weak?” Alucard accused.
“Yes,” You admitted, not wanting to deal with the whole back and forth.
He shifted in his seat, rising from his relaxed position.
“You know my price, Y/N.” He replied.
Seras glanced between the two of you curiously, not sure what he meant.
“But Seras-“ You tried to protest, but he cut you off.
“She can close her eyes or leave the room. I will not forgo payment to spare the feelings of someone else.”
You gulped, glancing over at her. She met your gaze, waiting for your instruction.
“Turn around for a bit,” You sighed.
She did as you said, turning around and facing the door. With her settled, you strode over to Alucard’s throne, staring him down as you walked. His gaze never left you, staying laser focused on your approaching form.
Once you reached the chair, you put your right knee on his thigh and your hands on the armrests. You met his gaze as you lifted yourself up, plopped yourself in his lap, and adjusted until you could feel his clothed bulge beneath you. Silently, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his as you started gyrating your hips against his.
You could feel him starting to stiffen beneath you as he grabbed your shoulders and deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, forcing past your lips and taking your own hostage for a mind melting dance. You kept grinding on him, even when his tongue was becoming overwhelming in your mouth. His erection, even through his clothes, was providing wonderful friction, you could hardly help yourself.
Occasionally, he would moan or groan when you would rub him just right. You pulled away, when you started running out of air. You stood up, straightening your clothes before walking back toward Seras.
“Consider that a down payment. You’ll get the rest when we complete the mission,” You said as you walked.
“Then lead the way, Y/N,” He replied, straightening up his own clothes and standing to follow you.
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boxofbonesfic · 1 year
Note
I can't stop thinking of possessive fire fighter Thor 😌🥴
welp, nonnie, now I can’t either. maybe you weren’t thinking quite this dark, but… 😅
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Title: Everloving
Pairing: Dark!Thor x Reader
Summary: A one night stand has worse consequences than you ever could have imagined.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Arson, Noncon, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Implied Basement-Wife, Stalking, Breeding, Darkfic, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Minors DNI!
[divider by @firefly-graphics]
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You stare at the ceiling over his shoulder as you catch your breath, your fingernails still dug hard into the muscles rippling beneath his skin. You’re still spiraling back down into yourself when he pulls back, leaning up on his elbows to grin dopily at you. His blond hair falls handsomely across his face, and the corners of his bright blue eyes are crinkled with his smile. 
 “See, Peach?” Thor says with a wink, his breath still a little short. “Told you I would take you to Valhalla.” 
 You raise a hand to your head, fingers curling in your hair as you laugh breathlessly. It’s a corny joke—and it was even cornier when he’d fed you the pick-up line in the bar, complete with his sultry little every girl needs a firefighter, Peach. It had been so corny you’d been left wondering if it was specifically engineered to get you to laugh yourself into his bed, but the earnest look on his face makes you second-guess your two minute drunk assessment. The firefighter’s uniform he’d told you about is hung up on the back of the door, too, lending credence to his honesty. 
 “Why is that funnier the second time?” You say, and he laughs. He eases up off of you, and your cheeks heat as you feel him slip out of your puffy, still throbbing cunt. You sit up, pulling his blanket up over your bare chest self-consciously. Thor, it seems, is just as glorious in nudity as he is clothed, back muscles rippling as he turns to the closet, and pulls out a hand towel to clean himself off. You hear a tinny sounding thud as he tosses the condom into the trash-can next to his desk. He offers you a towel and you take one, hurriedly swiping between your own thighs.
 “Do you want to shower?” He asks over his shoulder. “My roommate’s won’t be back for a few hours, so if you wanted to shower and crash—”
 “That’s okay,” You say quickly, snatching your shirt off of the back of his desk chair, using his blanket as a somewhat unconventional toga while you shimmy into it. “I should get going, it’s pretty late.” You flash him an apologetic smile as you tug up your jeans. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” 
 “No, it’s totally fine, they won’t mind. And maybe tomorrow we could get breakfast—”
 “I don’t think so,” you say stiffly. “I’ve got work in the morning.” 
 “Right, right,” he laughs a little awkwardly, stepping back into his briefs. The elastic snaps as he pulls them back up around his waist. “Well, maybe we could go out another time?” 
 You answer him with a shake of your head. “Sorry, I just, um….” You blow out a breath, rocking back and forth on your heels nervously. “I’m not like… looking for a relationship. Right now.” You smile apologetically. “I just, you know. Just got out of one, and it was a whole thing, and I just… I’m not ready, right now for another commitment like that.” His face falls, the boyish grin on his face disappearing as he regards you. 
 “Oh.” 
 “I’m sorry,” you say again, feeling the tension thick in the air between you. “I um. I had fun.”
 “Yeah. Me too.” A look you can’t read crosses his face, and he lifts his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it. He doesn’t say anything else as you shrug back into your jacket and flee his room, navigating back down the dark hallway toward the door. Your sneakers are in a messy heap by the front door where you left them, and you step into them quickly, eager to be out of his apartment. 
 You pull up your rideshare app as you walk down the block, trying to put a little distance between yourself and Thor before you call. For some reason, you don’t want to do it right outside, not that you think he’d watch you through the window like some creeper—
 Or would he?
 Either way, you call when you’ve reached the bodega on the end of his block, and in five minute Jeffery in a white Hyundai Sonata is pulling up to the curb. 
 Omw home. Your text pops into the roommate groupchat, and it’s not thirty seconds before you see three different speech bubbles appear in the bottom left corner. 
 Heather: girl. it’s one-am!!!!
 Bobbie: girl shut up, she was getting her back blown out by that hot blond lmao
 Heather: twisted into pretzels lolll
 Kirsten: none of you are asking the real questions. how was it???????
 You stifle your laughter with your hands, glancing at the rearview mirror before responding. 
 I will be home in ten minutes. You all will just have to wait. You are, of course, greeted by shrill giggles and questions the moment you walk through the door. You deliver the details as painlessly as you can muster, choosing not to describe the heartbroken look on Thor’s face when you’d tried to let him down as gently as you could. 
 “I mean, you’re totally right. You shouldn’t jump into anything so quick, not after Jimmy.” Bobbie nods sagely at you in approval. 
 “I dunno. He seemed sweet,” Kirsten says dreamily. “Might be a nice guy.” 
 “He was looking for a serious girlfriend, K,” you reply, stretching as you turn toward your room. “And I am not doing serious right now. Bobbie’s right.” 
 After a hot shower, you flop tiredly onto your bed and burrow under the covers. You’re still a little sore from earlier, and you bite your lip, wondering if you’d made a mistake. No harm in letting him shoot his shot, right? That’s what Heather had told you in the bar when he’d first begun sending you drinks, and what had rung in your head when your casual conversation had become boldly flirtatious. 
 There are plenty of other fish in the sea for him. You turn over, pressing your face gratefully into the pillow, confident that by tomorrow morning, Thor wouldn’t even remember your name. 
 ——
 The smell of smoke wakes you, only seconds before Bobbie is hurriedly shaking you awake. 
 “Fire! Fire get up now!” 
 Blearily you sit up, registering the shrill beeps of the fire-alarm just before you choke on thick, hot smoke. It’s filling the room, curling against the ceiling as you sit up, shoving your feet into your slippers. Bobbie’s hand is tight around yours as the two of you race for the door, followed by Heather and Kirsten. The hallway is filled with the other residents, everyone rushing out of the building in a crushing stampede. You’re dizzy, your throat hoarse and your eyes red and watering as you and your roommates watch your lives billow up into the night sky. 
 The street outside is chaos as the firetrucks arrive, men in uniform pushing through the crowd. You’re still staring numbly at your burning apartment building when large hands land on your shoulders. 
 “Peach? Peach you okay?” Thor pushes up his visor, his face filled with worry. 
 “She’s inhaled a lot of smoke, she was the last to get out,” Bobbie says worriedly. You’re forced to agree—every breath feels raw, like you’d swallowed some of the fire yourself. “Is there an ambulance coming?”
 “Yes, there is, but if it’s that bad, I should take her to the hospital now,” He says, snapping his visor back down. Thor’s grip is like iron as he steers you towards the back of one of the small response vehicles, and he hands you an oxygen mask and a little tank. “Breathe through this for a little while, Peach. You’ll feel better in no time.” 
 The street is clogged with vehicles, and Thor steers patiently around them while you sit in the back and try to catch your breath. The smell of the fire, the lights and the sound of sirens fade gradually behind you as you watch the building disappear in the rearview mirror. Eventually, all you can see is the thick column of smoke curling into the still dark sky in the distance as Thor gets onto the highway. His blue eyes meet yours in the mirror. 
 “How are you feeling?” He asks. The oxygen is certainly helping, though you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to be feeling quite this light and giggly. Oxygen deprivation makes you high right? Or is that something else?
 “Like I almost got barbecued,” you say, lowering the mask. A hoarse laugh escapes you. “Sorry. But I did almost die.”
 He smiles at you in the mirror. “It’s alright. A bit of morbid humor is to be expected.” You realize with a glance out of the window that you’re far past the hospital. It isn’t funny, but you giggle. In fact, he’ll be out of the city limits in another few minutes. “Besides, It’s probably the nitrous.” You squint at him. 
 “What?”
 “Nitrous Oxide, Peach. In the canister.” He winks at you, though he’s spinning in the rearview—or is it my head? Your limps are limp and uncooperative as you tug at the mask, gasping for air as your vision tunnels. You get it off, but it isn’t enough, and you gape at the air like a fish as you try to swallow it down into your lungs.
 Your ears are ringing, and black spots dance in your vision as you slump sideways over in the seat. The roof of the car swims in and out of focus as you gulp down lungful after lungful of air. You don’t know how long Thor’s been driving when he pulls over—twenty minutes? Thirty? But your head is still buzzing, your vision unfocused when Thor opens the back door. 
 “I am sorry you got hurt, Peach,” he says, managing to sound disgustingly apologetic as he reaches for you. You kick at him, but he’s so big and so coordinated and you are not, and he presses you to the seat, hovering over you like he had earlier this evening. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” 
 His admission drags a ragged sob from your throat as your eyes widen. You wail, your struggles renewing themselves until you’re exhausted. Thor remains immoveable above you, like your efforts have done nothing but delay, and perhaps irritate him. 
 “You set the fire.” He doesn’t deny it.
 “Magnesium shavings and alcohol.” He taps the tip of your nose with a finger.  “I like you so much, Peach. I just… I couldn’t watch you go out again with someone else.” He catches both of your wrists in one large hand and pins them to the seat beneath you. 
 “T-Thor,” your voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “S-stop, I—”
 He hushes you with a kiss, moaning as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You whimper into his mouth and he swallows it hungrily, sucking your lower lip between his teeth and worrying it until it swells. 
 “I just want to start over,” he repeats your words from the bar, hours—a lifetime—ago back to you, dark sincerity dripping from every word. “Pick up and start over—”
 “Shut up!” You cry, tears welling in your frightened eyes. “You don’t know me!”
 “Maybe not yet,” he hums, dragging his lips down the salty tracks over the curve of your cheek. “But we have time.” The fingers of his free hand slip beneath the loose elastic waistband of your pajama pants to cup your bare pussy. He heaves a pleased sigh. “No panties? Peach you are truly a treasure.” He parts your lips with sure, unhurried motions, his fingers sliding through your folds. 
 You try to close your thighs around his hand, but he doesn’t let you, wedging himself between your thighs. 
 “P-please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings—” You babble apologies that he doesn’t seem to hear, his touches ironically soft and unhurried. “Thor please—!” His lips crush against yours again, turning the words into a frightened squeak. 
 “What’s the matter, Peach?” He asks, trailing down your jaw and over your pulse point. “Nothing we haven’t done before.” Thor’s pleased little hum makes shame curl in your belly. You’re wet. You know you are, and you hate yourself for it as he draws his fingers back and forth, spreading the slick through your folds with practiced ease. “See? She even remembers me.”
 Thor circles your entrance with gentle strokes, and you huff through your teeth to hide the whine that threatens to tumble from your lips. You hate him, his soft persistent kisses, the drag of his fingers through your traitorously aching folds. You hate it because it feels good, because he’s making it feel good, because it feels like you’re shattering into a thousand fractured shards in his capable hands, and you get the feeling that he wants you to. 
 Can’t fix what isn’t broken.
 You whimper at the burning stretch of his fingers, the heel of his palm grinding deliciously against your clit. When you clench your teeth against the pleasure, Thor clucks his tongue at you. 
 “Let it feel good, Peach,” he coos, scissoring his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches loudly in your throat, and Thor moans deeply at the sight, leaning down to suck a bruise onto your collarbone. “You don’t have to be in control anymore. You can let go.” He mumbles the words darkly against your skin as you feel his hips shift up. 
“You can just let me—” Thor reaches between your bodies, tugging the band of his briefs down over the thick shaft of his cock. “Do the thinking for both of us.” He groans as it pops out from under the elastic, slapping against the puffy, slick lips of your pussy. 
 Thor’s lips part in a soft “o” as he slides his cock back and forth, eyes rolling up to stare sightlessly through the roof of the car. His fingers dig into the fleshy curve of your hip, the other forcing your wrists down harder into the seat cushion. Tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes and running down into your hair, acceptance settling like lead as you realize this is happening. 
 The head of his cock throbs hard as he pushes it against your swollen clit. You push down on the pleasure as hard as you can, trying not to let it show on your face. It’s useless though, as your thighs begin to tremble around his hips from the steady pressure at your clit. You writhe, trying in vain to buck him off. You only succeed in pushing yourself against him, pleasure rolling in sticky warm waves up your spine. 
 “N-no, ah—” You’re cumming then, your words are lost in the choked sob that tightens your throat. Cheeks flush with heat, you turn tear-filled eyes to Thor’s. He looks at you with an manic kind of joy, his fever bright eyes drinking in every detail. Your pussy is still throbbing, clenching tightly around nothing when Thor begins to line the head of his cock up with your cunt. He sinks in slowly, cursing as you squeeze down around him. 
 “Better with no condom, isn’t it Peach?” He says hoarsely, chuckling. “Not that that one made much of a difference,” Thor sinks in to the base, the heavy weight of his balls slapping wetly against you as he revels in the feel of you. “Poked it full of holes, just in case.” 
 He doesn’t give you time to mull over the words before he’s sliding out, sparks shooting in front of your open eyes as his cock drags along your walls. Thor groans as he fills you again, loosing your wrists so that he can anchor you to him with both hands. There is room in your foggy head for shame, but it does nothing to stop the sticky sweet rush of pleasure as he fucks into you with abandon, the truck rocking hard with his efforts. 
 What’s worse is that you can hear it, the lewd wet noise it makes as he slides into your welcoming cunt. You whine low in your throat as he pinches your clit between two fingers, rolling it back and forth until you’re twitching underneath him. Thor laughs. 
 “See?” He asks breathlessly. “And you say I don’t know you.” He leans down to kiss you again, swallowing the pathetic little cry you let out as he drags you over the edge. You hate that he’s all around you, in you, everywhere, filling you up until you’re overflowing. 
 When you cum, again it’s with Thor’s tongue in your mouth, and his throbbing cock in your cunt. He moans against your lips as his hips still, and dimly, you’re aware of slow, sticky heat settling in your core. He doesn’t move, his body pinning you to the seat. When he finally leans away, you try your best to pull your t-shirt back down over your bare breasts, staring stubbornly at the back of the front seat. 
 “Oh, Peach, don’t be mad at me,” he says, tucking his fingers beneath your chin. He pulls until it hurts, and you’re forced to look at him. You hate that he’s still inside of you, his cum leaking out to pool on the seat underneath your ass. He reaches down beneath the seat for something, but you can’t quite see it. “We’re going to be so good together.” 
 He produces the nitrous tank and mask, and your eyes widen with fear as you begin to struggle. It isn’t hard for him to push it against your face, though, and you hear a squeak as he twists open the valve. The gas rushes into the mask with a hiss, and it only takes a few panicked breaths before your vision begins to dim.
 “You’ll see.” 
 end
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Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️
1K notes · View notes
perplexedflower · 7 years
Text
Connection
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Fandom: Gravity Falls.
Category: F/M.
Relationship: Stanford Pines x Female Reader.
Type: One shot.
Words: 3,830.
Summary: Stanford Pines is anything but used to romance, but when the young woman he has fallen for confesses her feelings to him, it feels to him as though they were destined to be together…
Chronology: Late Season 2.
~~~~~~~~~~
I felt a little dizzy as my body began to tremble, but after one slow, deep breath, I regained my composure and walked out of the attic. After having spent so long, so much time, so many days debating with myself, I had finally made up my mind: that day was the day I would dare approach Stanford and confess to him everything that weighed on my mind. At last.
I made my way down the staircase and up to the vending machine, alone in the room; that afternoon was bright and sunny, thankfully for me, as all the others were spending their time outside the shack. The last thing I wanted was for one of them to walk in on me confessing my love to Stanford, and the sheer thought of such a thing happening was enough to bring knots to my stomach.
Still standing in front of the vending machine, I input the code to the basement on the pad, a code only the Stan twins knew better than I did, a code I typed in every day, a code that had become so important to me.
Come on, [Y/N]... You can do it. I motivated myself through thought as I watched the secret door open. You've prepared yourself for this day, for this exact moment... You can do it.
With the vending machine now retracted, I took a deep breath once more, sensing my nervousness rise as my stomach truly began to ache, my heart beating faster in my chest than it had ever before. For the second time, I found myself faced with a flight of stairs: I walked down each step, one by one, until I arrived at the elevator. With a slightly trembling index finger, I pressed the button that led to the last floor, which was home to the now-broken portal. While I waited inside the elevator, I continuously repeated to myself the speech I had prepared, the speech I intended to give to Stanford. And the second the elevator stopped moving and the doors slowly opened, I knew my time had come.
Seated on his chair, Stanford was pacing back and forth between all corners of the room, whether it was his desk, shelves, or even the ground, promptly standing up to grab some of his tools off the floor before he sat right back down. For but a moment, it was clear he had not yet noticed I was present in the room with him, until I took a few steps forward in his direction: then, he instantly recognized the sound of my footsteps and finally turned around to me.
From the other end of the room, he showed me a warm smile that made my heart flutter.
"Good afternoon, [Y/N]." He said cheerfully while he brushed the dust off his clothes with his hands. "How are you feeling today? Good, I hope."
"Good afternoon, Ford." I said back to him as I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could. "I'm fine, yes, thank you for asking. And what about you?"
"I'm doing great." He answered, still smiling. "In fact, I'm doing very well."
"Really, how so?"
"Well, I can't quite yet tell you much about it, but my current research is coming along nicely, to say it all." He told me with delight.
"Oh, that's fantastic news!" I exclaimed enthusiastically.
I stared at Stanford in the eyes, pretending to be jolly, when my heart rate was in fact racing.
"Oh, but enough about all that." He said as he took a step toward me while gesturing his hands. "Tell me, [Y/N], why are you not outside? I would have expected to see you out there, enjoying such a sunny day."
"You're one to talk, you know?" I teased him with a light chuckle. "But, as for me... Well..."
The old ceiling lamp above our heads emanated a low light that mixed in orange and red, which faintly reflected against the lenses of Stanford's glasses, making them sparkle just slightly.
"You see, Ford..." I started, the volume of my voice diminishing with each word. "God, it's just so hard to say it..."
As my hands began to tremble and awkwardly twist their fingers, he took yet another step in my direction, which brought him right in front of me.
"[Y/N], are you sure everything's all right?" He asked me with concern while he rested a delicate hand on one of my shoulders. "Is something the matter?"
To avoid his gaze, I lowered my head and stared at the ground, at my feet, just in front of his.
"Ford... There's something I have to tell you." I finally managed to say. "It's... really important... to me. That's why I'm here and not outside with the others."
While I spoke, I simply could not resist the urge to look down at Stanford's hand, holding my shoulder in place with a firm grip, yet without too much pressure; and the longer I stared at it, the longer I felt his touch on me, the more I could sense my heart pounding in my chest. I could tell my cheeks were progressively turning pink as I allowed my eyes to wander, leaving his hand to trace up his arm, detailing the outline of his muscles through the sleeve of his coat.
It's undeniable that the 30 years Ford spent stuck in-between dimensions have toughened him up... by a lot. I thought to myself. He's told me before that back when he and Stanley were little, he would get pushed around by other kids, even bullied. Then, growing up into adulthood, as a scientist and researcher, he never quite had a muscular physique, unlike his twin brother. But now, I look at him... and I can't help but feel a sense of pride seeing the man he has become.
I quickly pulled myself out of my thoughts and diverted my eyes from his arm, then cleared my throat before I looked back up at his face.
"I have to tell you that... I'm really glad that Stanley made the right choice to save you and bring you back here... and that Mabel decided not to press that button." I told him with genuine affection. "Stanford, I like you, and-"
"Oh, how sweet of you, [Y/N]." He exclaimed with a smile as he interrupted me. "I know it may not always seem like it, but I'm actually truly happy to be back, to be here, beside you all, even Stanley... And that includes you, of course. I like you too, [Y/N]."
With a grin still displayed on his face, he leaned forward and moved his hand from my shoulder to my head: his palm tousled my hair, after which he started to walk back to his desk, assuming our conversation was over and that he could go back to his work.
"T-Thank you, Ford, but you don't get it-" I said with a sad smile while I shook my head slowly, my eyebrows furrowed. "I like you, Stanford... I love you."
It felt as though my words echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls, surrounding us wholly, resonating within our heads. He immediately stopped walking, his foot frozen in mid-air, and remained still, his back turned to me; although I could not see his face, I could feel mine growing hot with blush, an expression of conflicted emotions on my face.
"... Hum- You know what? Forget I said anything." I mumbled as I stared at his back. "I... don't know what came over me, but just- ignore it... please..."
The more I tried to express myself properly, the longer I spent choosing my words, the more teardrops escaped my eyes, rolling down across my cheeks and ending their course on the ground.
"This... must sound like complete nonsense to you... I'm sure you're thinking I've lost my mind."
While I still stared at his back, still turned to me, Stanford still motionless, I took a blind step backward, then another.
"... I'm very sorry to have disturbed you, Stanford... You may resume your work, now."
The second I finished speaking, I promptly turned around and nervously pressed the button on the elevator: and as I stepped inside, I anxiously waited to hear him say something, anything, but he remained quiet. I pressed a second button, this time to order the elevator to go back up to the surface. After a second of silence that felt excruciatingly long, the two doors closed, and the moment the elevator started to move, I broke into tears.
I was still sobbing when, shortly after, I walked out of the elevator, climbing the secret stairs back up to arrive back into the room. I was too emotionally compromised to truly scan my surroundings, but I was still able to tell all the others were still busy, as the room was still empty.
I need... to be alone... I told myself. I need to find a place... somewhere, anywhere...
I knew the attic was out of the question, considering Dipper and Mabel could have very well been there, and so was the kitchen, given how much time Stanley spent in it; the only place that was left, the only place I could think of was the secret room Soos had discovered the other day, by pure accident. Once standing in front of the door, I gave it a soft push with my hand, too feeble to put any amount of strength into my movements. But as physically weak as I felt, I stepped inside the room without even an ounce of hesitation.
Once I was in, I closed the door behind me then took a look around the dim room, plunged into darkness, and, soon enough, my eyes spotted a couch: without a second thought, I made my way to it and sat down, bringing both of my legs onto the sofa. The temperature in the room was quite cold, which forced me to bury my face into the sweater I was wearing, a sweater Mabel had knitted for me. And as I sat in the dark, I let my tears flow, pouring out of my eyes like a river.
For a while, although I had no notion of how long it had been, I did not move from my spot, nor did I stop weeping, surrounded by my overwhelming thoughts in the midst of obscurity. That was, until I heard the door of the room open behind me, in such a slow and gentle manner it was almost inaudible.
Without sticking my head out of my sweater, I shook my head at the sound.
"I don't know who you are, but frankly, I don't care." I let out in-between two tears, my voice muffled. "Please... go away... I just need some time on my own..."
Despite my pitiful request, the person decided to walk in anyway, and I felt my heart twist into knots when I recognized the sound of their footsteps on the creaking floor, the sound of old, muddy boots. They continued, growing closer and closer to me, until they stopped, right beside me, and after but only a second, I felt his body sit down on the couch, just next to mine.
"[Y/N]... Please, listen." Stanford started in a tone so gentle it was almost a whisper. "You may think you've lost your mind, but you're far from it, trust me."
His voice and his words reached my ears and instantly enveloped me in a sensation of safety, of warmth, of comfort, and a part of me was already soothed, just listening to them, no matter how much I craved to be alone at that moment.
Though hesitantly, I slowly raised my head from my sweater, revealing the upper part of my face, though the rest was still concealed: and in an instant, my eyes were met with his, his gaze soft and affectionate.
"Because of... what you've told me, you see yourself as a freak... as some kind of monster. And you know this is something I can relate to, [Y/N]. I've had similar thoughts in the past, when I was a child, after other people would make fun of me for my weirdness, especially my polydactyly. But no matter how many times I got pushed around, I always- well, almost always had my brother by my side, to remind me I should not be ashamed of who I am... Just like you have us."
Ever so gently, Stanford extended one of his hands to me, reaching down into my sweater to grab my chin between his thumb and index finger. And that one single gesture tore my heart in half.
I already know how all of this is going to end... Ford is going to comfort me, to try and make me feel better, but he's not going to bring up again my love declaration, he's going to ignore my feelings for him... He'd rather avoid mentioning it, finding it easier to pretend as if it never happened... and this tension between us would remain.
With my face still held by his hand, he stared deeply into my eyes, though it appeared his confidence was progressively fading away.
"[Y/N], I... I don't... quite know how to say this..."
His face turned pink as he broke eye contact with me, his eyes restless.
"I've never really... done this type of thing... ever, you see, so..."
But eventually, after looking for the right words for some time, he looked back into my eyes, this time with strong determination.
"I love you too, [Y/N]." He blurted out bashfully.
Upon hearing his words, my eyes opened wide and my heart stopped beating. I was already convinced my imagination had played a trick on me, unable to believe what Stanford had just said to be the truth.
"... This... is not something I thought I would say today, but I assure you that I mean it, no matter how unbelievable it may sound to you." He further confessed, his words heavy. "I've had feelings for you ever since the day I first made your acquaintance. I saw you for the first time and... found you... beautiful. I talked to you for the first time and thought your personality was wonderful. Then I saw how well you got along with my family, with Stanley and the kids, and... I felt something I had never really felt before."
He marked a pause, his voice slightly shaky and his face shifting from pink to red.
"... A-And, at first, I couldn't believe it was love, I put the blame on... on the fact that you simply had been the first woman my eyes landed on after 30 years outside of this dimension, but-... But soon enough, I had to be rational and face the truth... I understood I truly had fallen for you."
Although I kept quiet, I could very distinctively tell what was going through Stanford's mind, especially given the facial expressions he was switching between as he spoke.
"But I... I didn't say anything." He continued, lowering his eyes to avoid mine. "I didn't know how to properly apprehend these feelings, how to confess them to you... For a man my age, all of this shouldn't be a problem, but... well, my experience is close to none. I understand your own hesitation regarding your feelings came from our age gap, and, quite frankly, so did mine. I just couldn't find a way to let you know about mine without coming across as a pervert... So I decided to bottle it all up."
After his last sentence, silence reigned for a moment, and I understood his speech had finally come to an end; the two of us were now staring straight at each other, our gazes locked on, neither of us saying a word. Only then did Stanford remember he was still holding my chin, and only then did he realize his speech had gone on for much longer than he himself had intended, judging by the look on his face. His eyes suddenly opened wide, his cheeks still buried under a thick layer of blush as he let go of my face, visibly embarrassed.
"I-I'm sorry, [Y/N]- I said too much, didn't I?" He asked me, seemingly shameful. "I must have spoken for too long- You said you wanted to be left alone, so... I'll be going, now-"
He hurriedly stood up from the sofa as he nervously pushed his glasses on his nose. He promptly made his way to the door of the room, but before I could let him get too far away from me, I extended an arm toward him and reached for the bottom of his coat: as he felt my hand tug at the fabric, he turned back around and looked at me, at the single tear rolling down my cheek.
"Stay." I said in a whisper. "... Please."
Stanford's eyes remained on me, on my face, which was now begging for his presence, and he could feel it; all while staring down at me, he walked back to the couch and sat back down, this time even closer to me, close enough to wrap his arms around my body and bring it down against his as he lay back slightly. His embrace felt warm and secure, yet so overwhelming as well. With my face nestled in the crook of his neck, I closed my eyes and took multiple deep breaths, his natural scent soothing me further with each passing second.
As I listened to the sound of his heart beating faster in his chest, I felt one of his hands rub my back gently, shortly followed by a kiss he left on the crown of my head. Both of us found peace and tranquility within that moment, that moment of serenity and quietness; but the silence did not last for long, as I let out a heavy sigh.
"... I'm sorry, Ford." I said, my voice slightly muffled against his skin.
"What for?" He kindly asked while looking down at me.
"For... all of this. For having waited all this time to let you know how I feel, and for having made you repress your own feelings. Because of me... we've wasted so much time we could have spent... this way."
Stanford chuckled, a genuine laugh that made my heart skip a beat and turned the tips of my ears red.
"You don't need to apologize for such things, [Y/N]." He stated as he brought his hands down on my shoulders.
With slow and gentle care, he pulled me out of his embrace, just slightly, just enough so that he could look down at me, so that our faces could meet, so that he could show me his bright smile.
"You're not responsible for any of this, and if we follow your way of thinking, logic would have it I need to apologize too. But neither of us is at fault, here. So, please, don't burden yourself with guilt."
With a shy smile, I closed my eyes and nodded. When I opened them again, I was still faced with his loving smile, with his affectionate gaze; and, after but a brief moment of uncertainty and indecision, I slowly brought my hand up to his face and gently rested my palm on his cheek, which led to the blush on his cheeks intensifying. As my fingers drifted down along his jaw and then his neck, I tilted my head a little.
I've... never really been this close to Ford before... It might take some getting used to... But I get the feeling that won't be an issue.
Our eyes gazed deeply into one another as my other hand found its way to his torso, my palm slowly rising and falling along his heaving chest, along the rhythm of his heartbeat. One of his hands left my shoulders to hold my waist, while the other held the nape of my neck, his fingers delicately running through my hair. Our faces grew closer to each other, the air around us filled with anticipation and excitement, until we both tilted our heads and closed our eyes: our lips met and our embrace grew tighter, finally sharing together this special moment we had waited so long to see happen.
My hand on his neck moved to the collar of his sweater, which I grabbed passionately while I felt Stanford furrow his eyebrows, his lips sighing against mine, cherishing the moment as he held me against his body. But the moment inevitably came to an end when we both pulled away, slightly out of breath, slightly panting, in an atmosphere that had all of a sudden become heavy. The two of us were still nervous, even now that we had kissed, and I could tell Stanford was feeling particularly awkward: with a soft smile, I tugged at his sweater and leaned forward to leave one more kiss on his lips, catching him off-guard. After I pulled away, I stared into his wide-open eyes with love as I caressed his blushing cheek.
"That was wonderful, Ford." I told him enthusiastically in a reassuring tone.
While still smiling, I readjusted his glasses on his nose a little better, seeing as they had slightly slipped down during our kiss.
"For a man in his 60s who's barely ever kissed a woman before, you're quite a good kisser." I added, teasing him playfully.
My compliment made him chuckle, somewhat awkwardly but mostly with genuine affection.
"Well... Thank you, [Y/N]." He said while blushing. "You're... really good yourself."
My body imitated his and I felt the redness on my face intensify as I giggled lightly. Both of his hands traveled back down around my waist, which he grabbed firmly, though without applying too much pressure.
"Well... The afternoon is far from over, so why don't you and I go back to the basement?" He suggested happily, visibly excited at the idea of keeping this conversation going elsewhere. "I'll show you a glimpse of what I've been working on these past few days."
"I like the sound of that." I replied just as happily.
With the help of my hips, his hands moved my body to the side, freeing his so that he could stand up from the couch: then, as he stared down into my eyes, he opened the palm of his hand to me.
"Then, let's get back to work... Shall we, sweetheart?"
I felt my pulse accelerate greatly upon hearing him call me by such a pet name, but I did my best to keep my composure as I nodded and put my palm in his.
Hand in hand, Stanford and I walked out of the room and headed to the basement, where we spent the rest of the day together, exchanging more than just words, until the sun went down and the moon went up.
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poisonlove · 6 months
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part 1 part 2
Lust +18 | Jenna Ortega
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I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head towards the entrance of our classroom, a smile playing on my lips. Suddenly, a faint buzz emanates from my pants pocket. Confused, I stop to read the message.
Katia: Where on earth did you disappear to?
Katia: I've been waiting in the bathroom for at least 10 minutes!
Katia: [meme of a cat with a raised eyebrow]
I roll my eyes in annoyance and sigh in frustration.
Me: Had an unexpected issue.
I close the chat and step into our classroom. My eyes immediately search for Jenna among the desks, but her silhouette isn't visible. Surprised, I widen my eyes when I see her seated at her desk behind the lectern. Her brown eyes briefly scrutinize me before returning to her computer.
"You're late," she declares simply without bothering to look at me. "Sorry, Jenna," I respond still in shock, and the brunette looks at me again.
"I am Professor Ortega," she states seriously, and I blink incredulously.
I head to my seat next to Jackson, but the professor's voice calls me back.
"So? Where are the apologies?" I turn, nervously swallow saliva, seeing Jenna observing me with crossed arms while sitting on the lectern. Her eyes convey a mix of fear and excitement.
"Apologies for the delay, Professor Ortega," I mutter through gritted teeth, and Jenna parts her lips in a satisfied and charming smile.
Visibly irritated, I slump into the chair at the back of the class, shooting a glare of anger at Jackson.
"Where the hell were you? I've been waiting for you this morning!" I whisper through my teeth, trying not to attract attention.
"Sorry, had to take my brother to school…" Jackson looks at me guiltily. "Mom was in a rush to get to the hospital for her nursing shift and couldn't drop off Bill," he concludes with a small apologetic smile.
I knew the responsibility Jackson had towards his brothers, considering his mother worked hard to support them. His father, on the other hand, had run away years ago with a woman ten years younger.
"Okay," I say, smiling slightly, trying to ease the tension.
I sit down and start arranging books and supplies on the desk. Jackson, with a raised eyebrow, breaks the silence.
"I must say, the professor is quite cute," he comments mischievously, and I huff to tacitly emphasize his observation.
"Seriously," I reply, looking closely at Jenna. She looked so sexy while focused on typing something on the computer… her eyes fixed on the screen and her teeth absentmindedly nibbling on her lower lip.
Jenna looks up from the computer and glares at us.
"Are you done talking?" she asks with boredom.
"We?" a couple of students in front of her inquire, and Jenna rolls her eyes in response. "No, just these two," she declares, rising from her chair. Jenna walks around the lectern and sits on it, swinging her legs back and forth rhythmically.
"What's your name?" she asks seriously, looking me straight in the eyes.
Silence falls in the classroom.
"Martina Smith," I reply, feeling strangely intimidated. Jackson, uncomfortable, answers, "Jackson Mills."
"Smith," Jenna says, savoring my last name, smiling mockingly. "If you don't stop talking, you'll sit in the front row, okay?" she announces, and I open my mouth indignantly.
"Why do I have to be punished alone?" I protest spontaneously, but Jenna genuinely smiles.
"Because yes, last warning," Jenna warns, stepping down from the lectern with a look of boredom in her eyes.
"But it's unfair! The whole class is talking," I protest animatedly, but her stern gaze stops me.
"Come forward," she says seriously.
"What?" I ask as my eyes search for Jackson's, who is trying in vain to hold back laughter.
"Sorry, dear." Jenna walks slowly towards the girl sitting alone in the front row. Hayley was the typical girl who perfectly embodies the role of the class nerd: glasses, braces, and that annoying urge to prove she's intelligent. Hayley is cute, but certainly not my type.
"Yes… Professor Ortega?" she says timidly, and Jenna smiles sincerely as she bends down and rests a hand on her shoulder. "Can you gather your things and go back? To Smith's seat," she says, and I scoff at her statement.
Hayley gathers her stuff and quickly walks towards my direction, waiting for me to stand up.
Reluctantly, I rise, causing a dull noise from the chair, and collect my materials. I walk towards the front row with an irritated air, while Jenna follows me with her gaze.
Jenna walks towards the blackboard, turning her back to the class. My eyes intensely watch her ass before noticing she raises a hand and writes something with chalk.
Well, one positive thing is that I have a front-row view.
"My name is Jenna Ortega, and I'll be your literature teacher this year." The way she pronounces the words conveys authority and determination.
At that moment, a girl raises her hand, seeking permission to speak. Jenna grants her the opportunity.
"Are you the one who wrote the book 'Black Roses'?" she asks with curiosity, catching my attention.
Jenna responds with a confirming smile, "Yes, that's me."
The class is suddenly filled with whispers of excitement and awe. The girl who asked the question seems thrilled. "I loved that book! It truly changed my perspective on things."
Jenna responds gratefully, "Thank you, I'm glad you appreciated it. If you have any questions or comments about the book or any topic in class, feel free to express them."
"Is she a writer?" My question sounds almost surprised, and Jenna's eyes shift in my direction, putting me in the spotlight for her icy gaze.
"Yes," she says, clearing her throat, "but if you're wondering why I'm here, it's because I wanted to explore new frontiers," she says with a smile on her lips.
"We're glad to have you visit," a boy interjects, and Jenna looks at him scornfully without saying a word.
Jenna looks at the class with a scrutinizing gaze. "Alright, everyone, before we dive into the new topic, I'd like to know where you left off with the study of English literature. Anyone want to share?"
After a brief silence, a boy timidly raises his hand. Jenna grants him the floor with a smile. "We finished the year with Romanticism. We analyzed works by poets like William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge."
Jenna nods appreciating the response. "Great, Romanticism is a fascinating period. I hope you found exploring those texts stimulating."
Jenna smiles, "Today, we'll begin a journey through the Gothic genre in English literature. We'll explore works by authors like Mary Shelley, Edgar Allan Poe, and Bram Stoker. This genre roots itself in dark atmospheres, mysteries, and often delves into the recesses of the human psyche. I hope you're ready for an intriguing and often frightening journey into Gothic literature."
The bell rings, and Jenna claps her hands with enthusiasm. "Well, it seems our hour is up," she smiles widely as many students prepare their backpacks to change classes.
Before I can reach the exit, the teacher's voice stops me again. "Smith… can you stay for two minutes?" I sigh and walk towards the lectern. Jenna looks at me through her long lashes. "Have you learned your lesson?" she asks, surprising me.
"Lesson? I haven't done anything," I spontaneously say, and Jenna smirks mockingly. "Respect. I'm sorry for calling you a kid, but don't behave like one," she says, looking at me seriously. "And don't be late," she adds coldly.
I sigh, trying to avoid giving a rude response. All I can think about is how to earn points and get to know her better. "I apologize, Professor, but I'm the type who prefers to make an entrance with style," I joke, and Jenna looks at me indifferently.
My eyes move downward, and I see the gold ring on her ring finger. "Are you married?" I ask with curiosity and an indifferent tone. Honestly, the obstacle of marriage didn't matter much to me, and I was sure it wouldn't be a problem.
"Yes," she smiles, but her smile seems dim, almost forced.
I place my hands against the lectern and lean towards her, Jenna's eyes looking at me with confusion. I suppress a groan threatening to escape my mouth as I smell her perfume invading my nostrils. "You don't seem very happy," I say, invading her personal space and private life. "These are not your business, Smith," Jenna looks at me seriously, her lips thinning, erasing any trace of a smile.
Her indifference and coldness excited me to death… but it was still too early.
"I apologize, Professor," I swallow saliva and smile timidly, "now I have to go to another class," I say distractedly, and Jenna nods slowly.
"See you soon," I say, smiling slightly before leaving the class without expecting a response in return.
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