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casualhedonists · 1 year ago

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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter two)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 2/?

MASTERLIST

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, oral sex, thigh riding, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

a/n: first off, THANK YOU for the love on chapter 1. wasn’t sure how I’d fare since I’ve done a lot of writing in my life but little to no smut. with that said! longer chapter incoming. also I just know he’d give insane head okay i just do,the guy looks like he fucks and he definitely does

You weren't sure exactly how you slipped away from Snow’s room that night, but you could somewhat piece it together in flashes. First a head rush, then the fire in the pit of your stomach practically having gasoline thrown on it.

You remembered a quiet gasp escaping your lips, then panic, a flash of white, and suddenly you were stumbling away, head spinning as you tried to catch your breath, pacing unevenly down the hallway, any chance of a stealthy escape long thrown out the window.

Back in your room, once the door was bolted and your back was against it, making sure nobody could get in if they tried, you had your first shot at clear-headedness since you’d heard heels scuffing the hardwood.

You’d soaked your panties through and were dripping down your thighs, but you’d be damned if you could get into the headspace to take care of it. Panic flooded your veins, ice-hot as you tried to catch your breath. you slid down the door and sat there, legs numb against the cold wooden planks.

Who was she? A million questions filled your head all at once. Was she from the Capitol? Could she be one of Snow’s friends, one of your friends? The thought made you sick. What if you’d dined with her before? Talked to her? How long had this been happening? Who knew about it? Were you being played?

Had he seen you watching him?

Unable to help yourself, your one-track mind took you back to the way he’d groaned your name, though you were half sure that had been a fever dream of some kind. Still, you kept replaying it. Over and over, like a broken record.

It didn’t make any sense, you were so fucking confused. All this time you’d been hoping he would make a move, you’d practically begged him to. Why hadn’t he? When you were clearly on his mind, and yet he made you believe he didn’t think of you that way at all. Was he just respecting your agreement?

You fiddled with the lace on the hem of your slip as you mulled it over. You stayed sat like this for almost an hour, trying unsuccessfully to wrap your head around it. When you ended up right back where you started, and you were sure enough time had passed that if someone was coming to get you, they would’ve already, you finally stood up. Your caution led you to drag a chair from across the room, propping it up by the door to jam the handle. That left you with the sliver of peace of mind you required to shower off this cold sweat you’d formed.

The next morning, you dreaded breakfast. But you knew you had to face him, as well as the fact that this could very well be your last meal. You should at least try to eat well.

You made your way downstairs, a few minutes later than usual, enough for Coriolanus to already be sipping coffee, a few pages through his newspaper. You’d not got fully dressed yet, not wanting the contrast to be too obvious, but you’d wrapped a silk dressing gown around you so you were a little more covered up. You knew one thing for certain, you wouldn’t be trying any more of your tricks until you knew just what you were dealing with.

He didn’t look over at you, which you took as a good sign. The urge to hide from him, from what you’d seen and what you now knew, overwhelmed you. You didn’t say a word, and picked silently at your breakfast, but despite your best efforts, not managing to keep more than a few bites down.

“You’re quiet today.” He muttered, and you started.

“Um.”

He lowered his paper.

“Something wrong?”

How about everything?

“Oh, no, I’m okay. Just uh…” you glanced up at him, and met his sharp gaze. Fuck. You’d hoped you’d go unnoticed. You felt like a deer in headlights, like he could read your mind.

“Well?” He prompted, gaze unwavering. You blinked.

“Headache.” You managed to breathe, faking a small, pitiful smile.

He brought his paper back up in front of him, crisply turning the page. You both thanked the new barrier between you for cutting off his stare, and resented it as you looked at the tiny printed words you couldn’t make out from where you were sitting.

“I’ll have Lucille bring you up something.”

“Thank you.” you said quickly, almost too quickly, and you feared he might lower his paper again to watch you as you stumbled over another excuse. But you fell lucky this time.

The week seemed to pass in a blur, Monday’s gala being one of the only times you really left your room when Snow was around, other than meal times, which you spent in a similar state as that first breakfast. You cursed yourself for throwing out your longer dresses, and settled for the least suggestive of them, the white one you’d been thinking of pitching to Snow as a backup plan in your panicked state outside his bedroom. That all felt worlds away now. What you’d seen had shifted the tides, marking a solid, definitive line in your head between the before and after.

The gala went as well as it could given the circumstances. You danced, Snow was charming to you in front of the guests, but held your gaze no longer than usual. It was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling to feel his hands on your waist, knowing what you knew. It felt like you’d been tapped with a cattle prod and had to hide it every time his hand brushed yours on top of the dinner table, as unsuspecting guests smiled at you, the happy couple.

If only they knew that in the same breath, you were scanning the crowd, wondering who the blonde could’ve been, how close she was to Snow, if at all, and hating the way every touch he placed on your hands and waist served as a reminder that he’d been touching her instead of you.

Your stupid brain had formed a highlight reel of what you’d witnessed behind Snow’s door, and it tortured you with every passing moment. To know he was thinking of you. To think that maybe, he wanted you there instead. It put a strange sense of possessive pride into you, that weaved between your jealousy. Because yes, you’d seen another girl on her knees with her mouth around him, but you hadn’t heard any name other than your own while it happened.

You carried this strange hope, dwindling to start off, and then building each day that you were left un-hanged and very much alive, slowly chipping away at your fear of the worst. And yet, you knew the game, unbeknownst to Snow, had been fundamentally changed. You’d stopped your antics altogether, now barely meeting his eye as you passed each other in the hallway, covering up more at breakfast, and only talking just enough to avoid another interrogation. Avoiding touch, and conversation, and all-around keeping yourself away from him.

You were quieter still at night in your room. After a few days, you’d finally felt safe enough to move the chair away and sleep with the door locked as you normally would. But while your games had stopped, your want for him had only been amplified. Fuelled by jealousy and frustration, you had to bite down on your hand so that not even the slightest noise made its way out as you pictured him, not as you used to in your fantasies, but as you’d seen him that night, undone with your name on his lips. It was much easier, in your head, to picture yourself as the one on your knees. Any other fantasy just failed to make the cut now you’d seen the real thing.

Thursday rolled around and you’d made a new habit of pacing the downstairs library when Coriolanus was out of the house. That way, if he got home and stepped inside, you could pretend to be lost in a book. But the hours seemed to stretch out and you became bored, and with no Snow in sight, you decided to head down to the servants’ quarters.

This wasn’t a common occurrence, but it wasn’t unheard of. You were known for your gentleness among the house staff, less harsh than Snow, but firm nonetheless. It had led you to a respectful friendliness with the maids and servants, and once every so often you’d check in on them.

Today’s objectives, however, were purely self-motivated. You found Lucille, who dressed you, at the kitchen table, chopping vegetables.

She stood upon seeing you, and curtseyed (Snow was rather old fashioned that way). You nodded, then took a seat at the foot of the table.

“Do you need any help with that?” You glanced at the cutting board.

Lucille’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Ma’am.”

You laughed. Lucille chopped and diced, and you asked questions. At first, they were after her family, her brother was sick and despite your offers, she wouldn’t accept help. So instead you listened, and slowly but surely, your questions got a little more directed toward the object of your interest.

You were good at playing the long game, so you started by asking about the company he kept. What she thought of them, with the promise that it would stay between the two of you, cross your heart.

She wouldn’t say much but she knew a little more than you; Snow kept very similar company as you did, and rarely went out for social visits. Any trips were strictly work-related, and when you eased into the topic of his past, Lucille mentioned, in very polite terms, that he had left a small trail of women heartbroken after a short period of time. That not all of them had been pleasant, and that she was pleased you seemed to have a positive effect on him.

She knew about your arrangement, practically the whole staff did, but they were kept on a very tight leash and were thoroughly reminded to not say a word acknowledging it, not even to you. It was with a knowing glance that Lucille told you she was happy you’d stayed around.

You smiled. Knowing that was likely all you were going to get for now, you let her be. By then, it was late enough to have gone dark, and you headed up to bed.

You awoke to creaking outside your door, and the shadow of footsteps from underneath it. You’d been tossing and turning for the last - you checked your watch - two hours. Excellent. You rolled onto your back wondering who it was, and then you heard it again. At first you wondered if it was just a sleep-deprived hallucination, or a sense of deja-vu, but then you focused, and there it was. The sound of heels. Again.

You sat up in bed, pushing your hair out of your face. You were enraged the first time, but if this was becoming a Thursday night tradition, it would be a serious problem. You were tired, you reasoned, you could just try to go back to sleep. Ignore it. Not let him have this power over you, a power that he didn’t even know he had. All the more reason to ignore it, and make it tomorrow’s problem.

But you just couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, no matter how hard you tried. Your mother used to say it was a problem, always sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong. But it had got you this far, hadn't it?

You knew you were going to follow her to Snow’s room again, it was just a matter of time. You had to at least pretend you had an ounce of self-control, whereas really your head was thrumming and you knew it would take getting hit by a high-speed train to send you back to sleep now.

So you held off. Five minutes passed. Then ten. You had to know, at least, what they were doing. Maybe you could get a look at her face, see who it was, and answer some of the questions you had.

So you went. With a purpose this time, knowing full well what and who you’d end up seeing, trying to take steady breaths and focus on your plan. Check who it was, then leave.

You’d never been that great at execution. Call it hedonism, call it a morbid fascination, or living vicariously, but when you walked up to the door - which was ajar again, strangely even more than last time, by at least an inch or two - you looked inside, and your feet planted. The last shred of your self-control allowed you to take in the room first, the desk and chair that was right within your sight, and as you tucked yourself into the room, half hidden behind the door, you finally looked back at the bed where you’d seen Snow with his blonde girl last time.

Neither of them were sitting now.

Thirty seconds ago, you would’ve believed the hottest thing you’d ever seen was what played out in this room last week. But that was before you saw Snow turned away from you, still fully dressed with his sleeves rolled up, stomach on the bed and face between the blonde’s thighs, eating her out like he was on death row and she was his last meal.

You’d gotten head before. You knew it felt good, but the boys you’d slept with before your arrangement with Snow were selfish and inattentive. They would try, but they were far more interested in getting their dicks wet than showing you a good time. But Snow - you’d never seen anything like it. You didn’t know it could feel that good, or at least, not as good as the blonde girl - who you noted in the back of your mind, wasn’t anyone you recognised - was making it look. Her hips were bucking so hard he was having to pin her down with both hands around her waist.

She was just moving so much, wriggling and crying out and gasping and - you didn’t think you’d ever truly known jealousy until that moment. You couldn’t look away, knees weak and hands shaking, letting yourself get sucked into this headspace again, losing all trace of rationality. You’d think she was playing it up for him, but you knew what that sounded like. You’d faked enough orgasms to know if she was, but this? This was real. As she got close, grinding into him, writhing, running a shaky hand through his hair then getting louder, you managed to snap out of your trance.

In a flash, you ran back down the hallway.

If you thought you were avoiding Snow before, this week was about to give you a run for your money. You took breakfast in your room, and kept only to the parts of the house you knew he never entered. You only touched yourself in the shower, silent cries washed away by the water and steam, paranoia backing you into a corner.

You feigned illness the one time Snow sent a maid to inquire after you. Nothing too major, but enough to put him off. When he left the house, you snuck into the library to smuggle books back to your room, a pile forming as you tried ceaselessly to distract yourself.

You wrote home, you studied art and history. You attempted a few terrible sketches. You tore apart your room, then put it back together.

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around again. On longer days like this, when Snow had been away working for hours at a time, you’d doubled down on your efforts to get information, and after chipping away for just long enough, you finally managed to squeeze some tidbits out of Lucille. Namely that there was a certain gentleman’s club in the city that he used to frequent before his election as President. Snow’s old driver might know its name, she said.

“But that was long before he met you, ma’am, rest assured.” She added hurriedly.

“Of course. Thank you, Lucille. I think I’ve kept you for long enough. Goodnight.”

Snow had been gone for the whole day, and you weren’t sure if he’d come home yet, so as you headed up to your room, you quietly wandered a little further down the hallway, to check if there was any light beneath his door. There wasn’t. Good. You were glad he wouldn’t be continuing this routine of his. Maybe this Thursday night, you could sleep peacefully.

With a sigh, and mulling over what you’d learned today, you returned to your room, poured a drink, then collapsed into bed.

This night was as sleepless as the rest, and you’d been drifting - not uncomfortably - in and out. A storm was brewing outside, and the sounds of howling wind began to keep you alert. You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling, then glanced towards your door. Snow must’ve come home at some point, and very late at that, because dim lights had been turned on in the hallway. Paranoia crept into your mind, slowly poisoning your thoughts and turning you inside out.

It didn’t take long before the feeling pushed you to roll out of bed, slide on a dressing gown, and crack open your door. This time, you couldn’t hear footsteps, or anything that might arise suspicion. You closed the door again. Waited. Then looked around your room, at the messy sheets and the half finished glass of liquor on the nightstand. You rarely drank alone, but these past few weeks had been getting to you, fucking with your head. Coriolanus Snow had driven you to this.

The wind got louder, and you knew you were too wired to sleep, so you stood by your window and finished the glass.

You’d never been good with mysteries. You wanted to know everything, all the time. Know who had power over you, know precisely how to take it away. Know exactly what was happening around you at any given moment. But most of all, you didn’t like being played for a fool.

And sure, the ethics of it had never been discussed between the two of you. Your business was strictly professional, but when you weren’t allowed to sleep around, why could he?

In fact, how dare he?

You poured another glass, straight whiskey. Downed it, pacing your room, back and forth between the door and the window, running your fingers along the ridges of the crystal glass. You thought about him, comfortably in his room, not a care in the world.

How dare he.

You weren’t sure if it was the drink or the buildup of your situation that had your blood boiling, but it didn’t matter. You were incensed. His behaviour was an insult to your name, to your family’s name. Sure, this relationship was a sham, but all the more reason for him to act with basic fucking respect. Sleeping with - and very obviously, at that - a whore, who had a bad habit of leaving the door cracked open, was unacceptable.

You were running hot, and if you knew one thing for certain, it was that when Snow met with fire, he was going to melt. You’d make sure of it.

Your feet took you into the hallway, with the decidedness that this would be the last time.

You rushed down the corridor with a tightly bottled rage that was about to burst, words hot on your tongue and demanding to be spoken, until you turned the corner and saw Snow’s door half open. You stopped in your tracks. Reassessed, then stepped closer, slowly, steadily. Remembering what you were there for.

Then, as you got close enough to see inside - right there, without you even having to step past the threshold, were the two of them, lit by a table lamp, Snow sat on the desk chair as the girl rode him to high heaven, obscene noises getting louder. As you approached you saw Snow’s face again, eyes shut, breath laboured, and you couldn’t believe that anyone just walking by would be able to see this. They were fucking like animals, out in the open. You didn’t know how or why you drew closer still, closing in on them. The girl’s head was dropped down to his shoulder, back facing you, and couldn’t see you unless she turned, but Snow? He was practically facing the door, almost as if he’d been…

No. It couldn’t be. Could it?

But you didn’t have time to think it through, because Snow’s eyes blinked open, and you knew. He was looking right at you, blue eyes piercing into yours, sharp and dangerous like he was going in for the kill. You stood there, jaw dropped, unable to look away. In what world could you walk in on someone like this, and feel like they held all the cards, and you none? That was how he looked at you; like you’d been there watching the whole time, and this was all a show, playing out exactly as he’d planned it. Like somehow, despite all your best efforts, he’d landed on top.

It was like he read your mind, because he wet his lips, unblinking as the blonde writhed on his lap, and fucking smirked.

a/n: can’t wait for them to hate fuck after this (oh sorry forgot i’m the author for a sec) thanks for reading <3

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii

if you’d like to be tagged, please leave a comment on the masterlist!! 💌

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth

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latenightdaydreams · 6 months ago

Note

Oh my goodness!! I absolutely loved your doll-sized! reader x König so so much. Could you perhaps make a part 2 where she tries to escape, but König puts her in the jar 😵‍💫 or maybe he punishes her by overstimulating her with his tongue…

Yes🤭😮‍💨

König x Doll Sized!Reader PT2(fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, masturbation, oral, cum play, captive, non-con

2.6k word count

That night, you didn't sleep. You spend all night trying to escape from this closet. Breaking off the small plastic bar in your closet to see if you can break a small part of the door, looking for holes in the wall, nothing. You find yourself completely trapped within. With a feeling of defeat, you drop to the floor and curl into a ball. Tears fall from your eyes until you slowly fall asleep.

König wakes up early the next morning with a new found pep in his step. The fact he has you here, so close, gives him a rush he hasn’t felt in a long time. He enters his kitchen, going into the refrigerator and grabbing eggs to prepare for the both of you. On one plate, he loads it up with scrambled eggs, toast with jam, and sausage for you both to share.

He climbs back upstairs, opening his bedroom door, and locking it behind him. Sitting the plate of food down on his nightstand, he opens the closet door. There you are, in your purple dress, asleep on the floor. It’s obvious that you were trying to escape; he knew you would, but had hoped you would have come to terms with things overnight. Your closet is a mess and pieces of wood chippings are on the floor from the door.

König’s eyes trail over your body as he kneels down. Your eyes flutter open as you feel yourself being picked up. Panic sets in as you realize König has grabbed you in your sleep. He watches as you wake up in his hands. A look of dread crosses your face, upsetting König. He’s so used to you being happy to see him, now you’re acting as if you don’t even like him.

“I made breakfast for both the of us.” He says, sitting on the bed and placing you next to him.

The large plate of food is placed in front of you, the bread and sausage cut smaller for you to take bites. König’s eyes study your expression as you look at everything before you. He reaches out with the backs of his middle and pointer fingers, caressing the side of your face. You flinch slightly, but don’t make any sudden movements.

“Eat, kleine Maus.” König’s eyes follow the outline of your body in that dress. “It’s good, I promise. Those are chicken eggs with beef and pork sausage.”

You lean forward and grab a piece of the bread, taking a bite and smiling when you taste the sweet apricot jam. König lets out a breath he had been holding in, wondering if you’d eat. He loves to watch your mouth wrap around the pieces of bread. The way a bit of jam sticks to your upper lip.

Despite everything, you seem to have been able to maintain your cheery disposition. Not making any attempts to flee and actually eating peacefully with him. Of course, König is going to maintain a close eye on you, but he’s happy to see that you’re not freaking out.

Once you’re done eating you sit back with your arms behind you to prop you up. “Thank you for the food, König.”

“Of course. I’m happy you enjoyed it all.” His eyes study your face before speaking again. “You’re so beautiful. I’m so happy that you’re mine.”

You notice his other arm moving, your eyes falling on it and notice that he is rubbing his boner as he looks at you. An uncomfortable look crosses your face, remembering how he acted with you yesterday. König watches you as you fidget, he’s aware of your feelings but he doesn’t care. He’s horny and he wants to know what he can do with you.

“Undress, Maus.” He more so demands of you as he moves the plate of food.

“König, please don’t make me.”

“I don’t want to hear any back-talk. Take. It. Off.” His voice is almost a low growl.

You stand to your feet and begin to undo your dress, letting it drop onto the bed sheets. Avoiding his gaze, you look down at the blue comforter. The bed moves as König stands and fully undresses before you. Your eyes scan over every inch of his body, landing on his erection.

König reaches forward and grasps you in his fist, holding you as he lets himself get comfortable on the bed. As he settles down on his abdomen, he uses his hands to gently open your legs. He slowly rubs up and down your small thighs, enjoying how delicate your flesh feels. One of his fingers runs down your thigh lower and lower…until he’s slowly moving his finger up and down your tiny cunt. Your legs jerk in reaction to his massive finger rubbing your clit. An arrogant smirk crosses his lips as he watches you struggle to control yourself.

He adjusts his body to rest on his side so his free hand can reach down and stroke his cock. The finger that is slowly rubbing your clit moves to the side to hold your leg open for him. At first, he takes a deep breath, smelling what your natural musk smells like. With one deep inhale, he’s hooked. You smell better than any human he’s ever smelt before.

“Mein Gott, you smell wie eine Blume.” His German and English get mixed as his excitement grows.

You try to close your other leg to take away access to yourself. His hand moves from his cock to your other leg and holds it down. “Don’t be a nuisance.”

König lowers his head and swipes the very tip of his tongue over your sweet cunt, his eyes closing instantly. It was as if he had just eaten the sweetest cake he’s ever tasted in his entire life. The tip of his tongue is big enough to cover every inch of your pussy. He simply wiggles his tongue back and forth pulling precious whimpers from your lips.

“König, too much!” You moan loudly as your back arches.

“Mhm.” He grunts back to you.

The way your body moves as you become overwhelmed with pleasure is spectacular. His lips wrap around you and sucks lightly. In response, the muscles in your abdomen tense up and you lean forward. Your small hands press against his face trying to push him away from overstimulating you. He’s simply too big to move. With all of your might you try to close your legs, causing König to chuckle.

“I want you to cum in my mouth.” He says, pulling back slightly before diving back in.

Your breathing is heavy as you pant from his mouth consuming you. As you writhe beneath him, his cock twitches with excitement. All his mind can think of is slipping his cock into you, but logically he knows that he can’t. You’re so small he would rip you apart if he tried.

Electric waves of euphoria pleasure pulse throughout your whole body. Every little suck or swirl of his tongue pushes you to the point the pleasure is almost painful. There is no break, just constant ecstasy. You begin to shake your head side to side as primal moans escape you.

As you orgasm, König loosens his grip on your legs. He moves one arm back down to jerk himself off. His eyes watch you as your eyes flutter and roll back in your head. What a beautiful sight you are.

“Gott, you taste so good.”

While you pant, trying to recover, he grabs your body and moves how he’s positioned in the bed. He leans back against his pillows and holds you, bringing you to his cock. It’s almost the full length of your body and wider than you are. Seeing the comparison of you in one hand next to his cock in the other makes his mind run wild.

“I wish I could fuck you.” His voice drips with hunger.

König jerks himself off as he holds you close to him. The musk coming off of him consuming your nostrils. He brings you closer to him, his hand moving off of himself as he presses you against him.

“Lick it.”

With hesitation, you slowly stick your tongue out and swipe a quick lick over his foreskin. König pulls it back to expose his pink tip.

“Again.”

You close your eyes so you don’t have to see as you lick your flat tongue along the head of his cock. It tastes salty from all of the precum that has leaked down it. König lets out a moan as he feels you. It’s small, but the visual of you doing it is stimulating enough for him to cum.

“Use that fucking tongue.” He groans.

As disgusted as you are, you don’t want the giant to be upset with you so you rest one hand on his cock as you slick with passion, sucking lightly. König watches down at you with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way you’re eagerly trying to please him.

Right when he feels as if he is ready to cum, his doorbell rings. König lets out an annoyed sigh as he puts you down on the bed. He quickly stands, grabbing his pants before peaking out the window to see who it is. Once he notices the mail truck, he puts his pants on.

“I’ll be right back. I just have to sign for a package.” He leaves, closing the bedroom door behind him.

For a moment you freeze, your heart beating quickly in your chest. Now is the time. You walk to the edge of the bed, looking down at the distance to the floor. It’s at least a two-foot drop that could hurt you. In a rush your eyes scan the bed, noticing how the night stand has a safe next to it, causing a small stair effect.

Without giving it a second thought you rush to jump the small gap between the bed and the night stand. You steady yourself on the cold wood, walking over the remote and ash tray that rest on it. Getting closer to the edge, you look down at the black metal safe. The drop is big, but you know you can do it without getting hurt.

With a deep breath, you turn and drop yourself down slowly. Once your feet touch the metal a wave of relief comes over you. Not even looking this time, you turn and lower yourself down to the floor the same way. Now with feet on the floor, you run to the door, trying to fit underneath the gap in between the door and the floor. As much as you try, it’s not use, you don’t fit.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you rub your face with your hands. König closes the front door with the package in his hand and begins to walk up the stairs. He goes to his office and places the package on his desk in the office to work on later tonight. You can hear his footsteps approaching so you decide to hide up against the wall and just make a run for it once he opens the door.

Your heart thumps in your chest as you wait. It’s as if things move in slow motion when you see the door opening. Once one of his feet is past the threshold, you run. König isn’t stupid, he quickly sees that you’re missing from the bed. His eyes dart everywhere around the room when he hears you behind him.

“Stop!” he shouts at you as you turn into one of the open doors, hoping to use your size to be able to hide from him.

The room you ran into is his office, where he spends his time making things for you. König is hot on your trail. He isn’t going to let you go this easily. As he enters the room, he closes the door behind him.

“Kleine Maus, you’ve only made this worse for yourself.” He taunts as he slowly steps forward. “Now you get to sit in a jar instead of your comfortable bed.”

The way he speaks sends a chill down your spine; you know he means it. The jar isn’t something you plan on experiencing. You look around for a place to conceal yourself until he moves on, looking at a stack of files. You slowly try to get behind the stack, but one accidental slip of your hand sends them all crashing down.

König turns in that direction and rushes to you quickly. “You’re not getting away.” He growls as he pulls the files over more to see you.

You run but before you can make any distance, König’s massive hand squeezes around you. This time his grip hurts. With all of your might you kick and hit him with your hands but nothing works. He doesn’t even look at you as he stalks over to his desk with urgent speed. You see a large mason jar and panic sets in.

“Please don’t put me in there König, I’ll suffocate.” You plead desperately.

“I drilled holes in the lid, I’m not a fucking idiot.” He says with irritation in his voice.

König lifts the lid up and drops you into the jar, your body hitting the glass with a ding. You look up as he closes you inside. He picks up the jar and holds you face level with himself, his gaze holding a lot of anger.

“Why did you try to run?!” He yells at you.

“I just want to go home.” You cry out and hit the side of the jar.

“No! You are home!” His shouts vibrate the glass jar.

He slams you down on the desk, once again rattling you. Your body falls hard against the glass as you look up. The rage you’ve feared is showing its ugly head. As you stand up and steady yourself, you watch König pull his pants back down, whipping his cock back out.

König stands and unleashes his anger out on his cock. His eyes travel all over your body, still tasting your sweet pussy on his tongue. You’re such a naughty fucking woman, a sweet little whore…his whore.

“Say you want my cum.”

“I want your cum.” You say quickly, this isn’t a time to try and anger him. Instead, you fawn instantly.

“Ja, du kleine Hure.” König moans out as he steps closer to the jar.

He stops to open the lid, bringing himself closer to the desk. His fist moving quickly up and down his cock as he aims it into the jar. Pathetic moans leave König as thick globs of his cum fall down into the jar, some falling on to you and covering your hair and face. You gag from the smell and sticky feeling as it covers you. His jizz fills the jar up to your ankles.

König looks down and sees you covered, disgusted with what he just did. A chuckle leaves his lips as he watches your reaction. “What? You don’t like my cum?”

You don’t respond, trying to remain calm so he will let you out. He isn’t going to though. You’re staying in that cum filled jar for the whole day, maybe even days. Maybe he will just keep filling the jar up, covering you until you’re consumed by his seed.

The warm cum sticks to your hair, slowly falling down your naked body. There is nowhere for you to sit or relax without having to sit in his cum. The small space traps the smell inside with you. It is absolutely disgusting.

König closes the lid again, tightly, trapping you within. He sits down in his desk chair and looks at you for a moment. Wondering how he can fuck you. What can he shove inside of you without hurting you? His eyes drift from you to the desk full of craft supplies. He notices a dried drop from his hot glue gun, picking it up and bending it. Just then an idea enters his mind, his gaze meeting yours with a mischievous smirk on his face.

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bigfatbimbo · 3 months ago

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INSIDE JOB KCFFPKAFRDJATS

I need me some more Subby Brett Hand fics like omggg I already read all the ones I could find

—

Denying Brett an orgasm for like the millionth time and he tears up????

👀<3

a/n — Brett Hand my baby girl, I’d do anything for you. Anyways, I have reagan fics after this one.

warnings — Dom!reader, fem reader, Brett calls reader mommy

summary — Series of Sub!Brett headcanons, and then a drabble

ᯓ★ This man is so submissive, I will never understand how people write him as a dom, he is a subtop at best.

ᯓ★ Desperate for approval on an ungodly level, so this translates to a killer praise kink.

ᯓ★ He will need all the reassurance in the world that he’s making you feel good and that your actually enjoying him.

ᯓ★ “Good boy, Brett” He will automatically be on the edge, trying not to cum immediately. You really think so? You really think he’s doing good? He’s eating it up.

ᯓ★ Nowhere near unexperienced, the man was on a frat club in college. But that does imply that ‘making him feel loved’ was not on his party-hookups agenda.

ᯓ★ This basically means that being gentle with him would be a huge turn-on. Yes please make him feel comfortable, tell him how pretty he looks, tell him just how much you like him.

ᯓ★ Would call you mommy. He grew up getting no attention any authority’s figures in his life and now your doting on him and taking care of him? It just slips out!

ᯓ★ Ready to try most of anything, like anything you wanna do. Even if he doesn’t actually like the idea, but most times he would because it’s you.

“W-wait please, I really need to cum this time—“ Brett begged, looking up at you with a desperate look, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead.

“I know, baby. And you’ve been so good for me,” you coo as he answers with a short whine, “But mommy’s not done with you yet, so you’re just gonna have to wait.”

”’m sorry mommy, i-i’m trying but— Oh fuck..”

He stops himself with a low whimper as you drag your finger along the base of his cock, while positioning yourself over him.

You were going to… ride him? He couldn’t handle that in this state, you had to know that! You’d denied him plenty of other times that night, but this seemed almost mean.

He’d have to hold himself back though, as he was terrified of you being upset with him.

You plopped yourself down on his cock, ignoring the tears that instantaneously bubbles in his eyes, “My good boy, you’re taking it all so well.”

He whined, “It’s— god, it’s so much— please, I need to— Aah!” you roll your hips suddenly fast, practically jamming his cock in your pussy, before slowly down. A tear rolled down Brett’s face, and then another.

“Aw, sh sh,” You lean down and wipe the tears path off his cheek, and then plant a kiss.

“Don’t cry, I know you can handle it. I know you can handle more than this.”

#inside job x reader #inside job x you #brett hand x you #brett hand x reader #dom reader #sub male character #x reader #inside job brett x reader #inside job #smut x reader

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slamminslamminmcgill · 4 months ago

Note

mm finally watched deadpool and wolverine today, and my god... 🥵 so many thoughts...

Idek which ones to put here. What do you think a p*ss kink would look like with both of them? Or just more of them making reader squirt their brains out.

The dialogue you write between them sounds so natural. Like I can literally read it in their voice. -🐮

LFGGGG thank y’all for giving me an excuse to talk abt this 🙏 i got more ideas but this post would’ve been WAYYYY too long sooo be on the lookout for more debauchery

warning: piss, anal, dp, dubcon, light degradation/humiliation, intox (alcohol for logan)

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

as with most of the fucked up kinks y'all try in this polycule, it happens spontaneously the first time.

logan had just finished inside your ass, and out of the three of you, it takes him the longest to cum. it also takes a lot out of him. he roars and jams his claws through wade's temples (whoopsie! that's why your bed has red vinyl sheets hehe) so there's a dramatic break in the action afterwards.

"ah... hah... ngh, fuck..." he's panting, heaving almost, and slides out of your now gaping hole, "fuck, that was good..." he retracts his claws from wade’s skull, then purrs in your ear and smooches your neck, "good job, kid."

wade, still hard as steel in your cunt, claps excitedly for him. "yay! good job, YOU, peanut! UGH, i love watching you fill him up. you get so... beastly~."

you giggle, nuzzling into wade's tits, feeling goofy and content. a warm load up one hole, and a thick cock up the other.

logan smiles, kissing you on the back of your head this time. “you gonna be okay alone with him for a sec? i gotta go piss.”

"mhm!"

"'kay. i'll be right back, pumpkin." another kiss to your neck, and he's off, walking flaccidly to the bathroom, shaking his fuzzy cheeks.

you drop your head back down against wade’s chest and sigh, "i gotta piss too, actually."

"oh, yeah, yes you do, mister!" deadpool pats you on your shoulders, "always make sure to pee before, during, and after sex!"

you absentmindedly chuckle, until you realize what it is he just said, “wait… during?!"

"hey! thou shalt not knock what thou hast not tried!i know it sounds icky, but hear me out."

he thrusts upwards into you sharply

“fuck!!!”

“so! i want you to imagine…” *THRUST* “how good it’d feel…” *THRUST* “to be really filled up.” *THRUST* “and i mean FULL!” *THRUST* “like your pussy is a searing hot water balloon about to explode. and then when it does?” *THRUST* “when it all comes flooding out of you? oh darling, the relief…” he moans dramatically, gripping your hips and shifting you back and forth on his shaft, “hottest thing you’ll ever experience, i swear. there’s nothing else like it… wanna try it?”

you’re skeptical, but wade wilson is a hell of a salesman. “…fuck it. let’s do it.”

“yippee!!! okay, just gotta get soft so i can piss. dead kittens… calculus homework… grandma deadpool! there we go! okay… phew… here goes…”

it’s a tense, awkward silence as he starts. you’re not sure what to expect. then, you begin to feel it. that searing heat swelling inside you, pooling between his cock and your skin, flooding what little space there was inside you. you gasp, and attempt to squirm to cope with the sensation, but wade holds you still.

“don’t move! don’t move, my little urinal boy! mmm, i gotcha, just… just trust me on this… i’m almost done…”

“you two are fucking disgusting.”

logan’s voice coming out of nowhere makes you jump, and then wade’s piss spills out of you. and just like he told you, it feels fucking incredible. you’re twitching, spasming, moaning pure nonsense as wade fucks your drenched, desecrated cunt. loud splashing accompanies the brutal pace of his hips.

“your loss, peanut! imagine wasting your piss on the bathroom toilet when you could’ve given it to this even cuter toilet!” he pecks you on the cheek with a loud “mwah~!”

from then on, it becomes you and wade peeing on each other just to mess with him. since he’s never told y’all to stop, you both figure that he likes it, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it.

the three of y’all are showering together

“so, just asking as a throuple here, are we all pro- or anti-peeing in the shower?”

“if you get piss on me, i’ll stick my claws through your fucking corneas.”

“promise?!”

”don’t. you fucking. dare.”

“aw, boo, you’re no fun.” wade pouts, then grabs you by your wet hair and pulls your ear towards his lips. “you, though… you’re TONS of fun.” he playfully bites your ear, and then your neck. “so fun, in fact, that you’re gonna get on your knees and drink every drop of piss that i give you, right?”

i feel like the only time y’all can get logan to participate is while he’s drunk. he’s too sloshed to feel shame for it.

maybe y’all are in bed together, all cuddled up in a tangled mess of limbs, and he grumbles something about needing to take a leak.

“oh, don’t worry about getting up, honey-bun!” wade fishes under the blankets for logan’s soft cock, “lemme take care of that for you.”

“wh… the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“ugh please, don’t act like you haven’t thought about pissing down my throat. can’t i just once do something nice for you?”

he grumbles, not wanting to indulge wade, but not wanting to get up even more.“fine. whatever. i hope you choke on it.”

“oh, i will.”

#🐮#anon #ask #piss kink #deadpool x ftm reader #deadpool x reader x wolverine #deadpool x trans reader #deadpool x you #deadpool x reader #deadpool smut #deadpool #poly poolverine #poly deadclaws #wolverine x trans reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x ftm reader

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cup1dt3a · 6 months ago

Text

Prefect’s Revenge

Summary: The dorm leaders and the vice dorm leader of Scarabia have been noticing weird things going on recently. Having no clue why until the Ramshackle prefect reveals their the one behind their recent misfortune at a meeting.

A/N: This is basically just a crack fic of Mc being done with everyone’s bs and proceeds to traumatize the overblot group. I’m slowly getting back into writing. I hope you’re all doing well and are having a wonderful day/night!

-Sincerely Cupid Tea 💖

It started off with Riddle soon noticing something different with his breath. Usually after he brushed his teeth he always felt like his breath was minty fresh. Recently though he soon noticed an odd taste in the back of his mouth. He hadn’t changed anything recently. Nothing in his routine seemed different too. Even confiding in Trey about anything that could be causing his bad breath. Sadly Trey couldn’t even figure out why and just told him to buy some mints to help including trying to brush his teeth more. The red head was soon left to ponder why his breath smelled so bad recently.

Then it was Leona. Sure his dormitory was known for reckless and obnoxious beastman. Though it’s never been this bad. All he wanted to do was sleep that’s it, but for some reason his dorm mates refused to turn down the music or stop partying. He was honestly sick and tired of hearing the blasting music from the lounge area. He’s even had to grumpily get out of his bed late early in the morning to tell them to keep it down. He was almost on the verge of actually begging them to shut the fuck up. He couldn’t even sleep in the botanical garden anymore without Last Friday night playing on repeat in his head once again. Even I’m a Barbie girl was haunting him.

Soon misfortune stuck Azul his coin collection that he locked in the vault wouldn’t open. He even got 2 new coins. Very rare and coins that were easy for anyone to steal and make a fortune off of. He soon tried to pull the door open thinking it was jammed. Sadly that didn’t work at all. He’s used a chainsaw, a lock picker, he even tried using the twins brute strength to open the door. After hours and hours of trying to get the door open in a desperate attempt to get his coin collection he threw himself at the door. Sadly, once again nothing worked. He was currently heaving with tears of frustration just wanting to put his new coins in his collection that he couldn’t get to.

Jamil soon started to notice an odd sensation on his back in the middle of the night. He mistook it for the cold breeze coming into his room due to it being colder at night. Soon it felt like something crawling on his back. But every time he checked there was nothing. He soon let his imagination get the best of him thinking it was spiders crawling up his back. Not to mention the recent spider infestation at his dormitory it seemed that everyday for the past week everyone in the Scarabia dorm was seeing spiders. This only scared the vice house warden more.

A horrific thing had happened in Pomefiore. Vil. The Vil Shoenheit had a pimple on his face. A horrendous pimple was on his face. Wait now it’s 2! Now it’s three!! What is happening!? His skincare routine was impeccable!! There’s no way this should be happening!

Idia was currently panicking. How the hell could someone hack him!? His everything was hacked!! He couldn’t even play with only friend online without the screen glitching out! Who the hell even downloaded so many viruses onto his computer!? How did they even download so many!?

Diasomnia was no better than the rest as a harsh thunderstorm plagued the dormitory. Malleus had lost his tamagochi Gao-Gao Drakon-kun. Which should’ve been impossible, but here we are he was currently tearing his room apart. While the rest of diasombia cowered at Malleus’s rage Lilia, Silver, … mainly Lilia and Silver tried to help him calm down and think rationally before he caused a tornado to run through the campus. Sebek was no help at all as he joined in on the destruction of Malleus’s room determined to find his masters Beloved Gao-Gao Drakon-kun.

Soon they were all called to a house warden meeting to discuss something with Crowley. They all stood a bit awkwardly. Riddle for once kept his mouth shut as he sat at the table before shoving another mint into his mouth for the 12th time today. Leona was on the verge of passing out as he looked down looked as if he was in pain and sleep deprived. Azul looked upset for once as if he was frustrated about something. Jamil looked paranoid as he kept glancing back and forth left to right at the walls occasionally slapping his back. He had come due to Kalim needing to study for an upcoming test due to his grades getting low. Vil on the other hand had on a mask. Idia was aggressively tapping his tablet making an upset groan once again seeing the screen glitch. Malleus on the other hand was impatiently tapping his foot he had no time for this he needed to find Gao-Gao Drakon-Kun. He was thankful to actually be here for once, but he had more important matters at the moment.

Soon and unexpectedly {Y/N} came in to break the silence.

“… Well it’s oddly quiet in here for once.” you chuckled.

None of it found it amusing as they all looked desperate to get out of here.

“ Fine then I’ll cut to the chase… Crowley didn’t invite you all here I did. “ you revealed having them all look at you in confusion.

“Why prefect?” *riddle asked popping another mint into his mouth after cringing smelling his breath.

“Well you see… you guys all remember when you overblotted right?” the atmosphere immediately grew a bit tense.

“I’m still pretty pissed about it to be honest so I thought why not get revenge on all of you.” This immediately caught their attention.

Soon Vil ripped off his mask yelling “ You did this to me!?” The others stared at him in shock his chin and cheeks were covered in red pimples. Well everyone except you this made you chuckle as you nodded.

“ Yep I replaced that cream you use in your face routine with lard.” You giggled as Vil gasped looking at you in disbelief.

“… W-wait what did you do to be then?” Riddle asked covering his mouth this made you sigh.

“ Riddle in all honesty I did this to you a while ago when you acted like a tyrant… I’ll apologize for this one but… I used your tooth brush to clean the toilets in Ramshackle.”he stood there in shock before gagging and running out the room.

The others just looked at you in shock and one by one you revealed what you did to them. For Leona you actually installed speakers outside his room that constantly play Last Friday night and Barbie girl. Turns out Ruggie really will do anything for a quick buck and donuts. Azul you had used super glue on the vaults lock. Idia you had ortho teach you how to hack and he’s surprisingly a very good teacher; you even sent idias search history to his parents. You had actually put a pregnant spider in Jamils room. Last but not least for Malleus you stole his tamagotchi.

“… You did all this for what!?” *Azul had a crazed look on his face as he looked at you in disbelief.

“ Revenge!” You yelled.

#riddle rosehearts #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland shitpost #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #gender neutral reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #twst azul #twst vil #vil schoenheit #jamil viper #twst jamil #twst idia #idia shroud #twst malleus #malleus draconia

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years ago

Text

Brother's Best Friend - Part 4

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Did I write an angstier version of this chapter and then rewrite the last half entirely because y'all deserve a fluffy read? Yes, yes I did. Thank you for all your wonderful ideas! I've got them all lined up for future chapters hehehe So don't be blaming me for the heartache you're inflicting upon yourselves XD Muah!

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: Swearing, suggestive language, protective Jake

WC: 2000+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist

“You have a what?” Jake exclaims, nearly choking on his coffee.

��A date,” you repeat, smiling giddily at both him and Bradley. “We met at pub night last week and we’ve been texting.”

“Texting?” Jake raises his eyebrows skeptically. He looks over at Bradley as though he expects him to express an opinion, but Bradley just rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“Be careful,” your brother says, returning his attention to the plate of scrambled eggs before him.

You snort. “In what way?”

“In all ways,” Jake chimes in, clearly annoyed that Bradley has nothing else to add. “Guys are dicks so keep your guard up.”

You give Jake a humorous look. “Not all guys,” you say.

Jake nods at you. “All guys.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “This isn’t my first date, Jake.”

“Just work under the assumption that all guys are dicks, alright?” he says. “That way, when he turns out to be a dick, you won’t be shocked.”

You set down the jar of jam you’re holding and let out a sigh. Since the incident with couch girl, Jake has gone out with three different women, which, to be fair, is normal for him. Still, you’re just about done pining over your brother’s best friend, whose signals you’ve clearly misread. If guys are dicks, then Jake Seresin is exhibit A. “He’s actually super sweet,” you say, taking your toast out of the toaster.

“Don’t be fooled,” Jake mutters.

Bradley grimaces as he looks up at you. “He’s not wrong.”

“I have dated plenty of nice guys,” you say. “Just because the two of you are assholes to women, doesn’t mean all men are.”

Bradley claps a hand to his chest. “Me?” he cries in disbelief.

Jake puckers his lips and gives you a sheepish grin without disputing your claim.

“I’m not going into this with your negative energy,” you say, waving your arms at the two of them. “Because maybe he’s nothing like you.”

“One could hope.” Jake shrugs.

Bradley eyes him dubiously. “Just be careful,” he repeats.

“Don’t worry, it’s just dinner and a movie,” you say, bringing your breakfast to the table.

“What movie are you going to go see?” Jake asks.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “We’re going back to his place so probably something on Netflix.”

Jake sets down his fork and knife and stares at you. “You’re going where?”

You ignore Jake’s outburst and take a bite out of your toast. “I’ll be home late,” you say, mostly to Bradley. “So, don’t wait up.”

Jake stares at you. “You can’t just go to some random dude’s home,” he says.

You cock your head at him inquisitively. “Interesting advice coming from someone who brings home random girls almost daily.”

Jake presses his lips together and exhales moodily. “That’s different.”

Bradley smirks, eyeing him expectantly.

“How?” you ask.

Jake rises from his seat and lifts his coffee cup. “Do whatever you want,” he says. “Bradshaw, let’s go, we’re gonna be late.”

Bradley gives you a resigned sort of look and shoves one last piece of toast into his mouth. “I’m driving,” he says with his mouth full.

“You better not be blocking me in!” you yell at their backs as they head for the front door.

…

That night, your date drops you off at the end of your driveway, leaning in for a kiss before you exit his car. You give him a quick peck and a tight smile before stepping out of the vehicle, knowing that, despite the evening having been pleasant enough, you’re probably not going to pursue the relationship further.

He asks about seeing you later in the week and you peek back through his car window and respond with a polite maybe because perhaps the guy deserves another chance. You walk up to the porch as he drives away, and then try the door before searching for your keys in the dark.

The door is unlocked, so you walk in, flicking on the light, and the first thing you see is Jake as he steps away from the window facing the driveway and places his hands on his hips.

“He didn’t want to walk you to the door?” he asks sternly.

You grimace at him. “Why are you here?”

“Bradley had to stay late tonight so I came to make sure you got home alright.”

You blink at him coolly. “And that involves spying on me?”

“If I were spying on you, you wouldn’t know about it,” Jake retorts, starting for the kitchen. “You hungry?”

“I just came from dinner,” you remind him, taking off your heels.

You follow him into the kitchen, dropping your purse on the floor as you go. You’re suddenly feeling extremely tired. Jake opens the refrigerator and starts taking out ingredients for a meal while you walk past him and land on the couch in the living room. Jake cranes his neck to look at you over the island. “I’m making spaghetti,” he calls.

“Knock yourself out,” you reply, closing your eyes.

You hear Jake step around the island and enter the living room, and then you feel the depression of the couch as he plants himself down by your feet. You open your eyes again. “Yes?” you say.

Jake watches you blankly for a second before finally blurting out, “How’d it go?”

You furrow your eyebrows, still confused by his interest in your dating life. You pull your knees up so that your feet don’t keep sliding into him and pretend like you aren’t at all intrigued by his question. “Fine,” you respond nonchalantly.

Jake nods although he doesn’t look entirely satisfied with your answer. “Still think he’s nice?”

You eye him wryly. “Very.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Too nice?”

You make a face at him. “What’s too nice?”

Jake shrugs. “Boring.”

You give him a flat look. “This perspective explains so much,” you say, pointing at him reproachfully.

Jake laughs. “Girls don’t like nice guys.”

“I like nice guys!” you exclaim, sitting up with renewed energy.

Jake eyes you skeptically. “Sure, you do.” His gaze sweeps over your face in a slightly provocative manner and you get the sense again that he might be into you. And this possibility sends a rush through your body that makes your head spin. However, you remind yourself that, if this were, in fact, the case, Jake wouldn’t be going out and sleeping with a new woman every other night, because that would be counterintuitive. Besides, you are getting over him, anyway. You are well on your way to recovery.

You shake your head at him and lean your back into the armrest of the couch.

“You dressed up for him,” he notes, meeting your gaze as you glance up at him.

“Would you rather I undressed for him?” you ask pointedly.

Jake blinks at you uncomfortably. He looks like he might be sick. “Don’t joke about that,” he says, rubbing his forehead anxiously.

“You started it.”

“I just meant ” – he sighs without looking at you – “I just meant, you look good.”

“Then just say that,” you retort. “Without being a dick about it.”

He turns to look at you with an apologetic sort of cringe contorting his features. “Guess I’m not a ‘nice’ guy,” he mutters, complete with air quotes.

You stare at him, wondering if he’s hinting at something. You kick him in the leg with your foot. “Don’t be weird.”

He chuckles. “Come on,” he says, rising from the couch. “Let’s eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“But I want company,” he says with a slight whine, bending forward to grab your wrists and pull you up off the couch.

You let him lift you to your feet, your body crashing briefly into his while you find your balance. Jake releases you instantly and takes a step back, holding his hands up as though he doesn’t want to be held responsible for initiating the contact.

“Sorry,” he mutters quickly.

You give him a look. “I said, don't be weird, Jake.”

…

Three weeks later, you’re sitting with Jake on a patio, waiting for Bradley to bring the three of you drinks from the bar.

“Can I ask you a question?” you say tentatively, making sure that Bradley is still inside the pub.

“Shoot,” Jake responds, downing the last of his beer.

“It’s about my boyfriend,” you say.

Jake cringes. “He’s your boyfriend now?”

You shrug. “I mean, I guess. We haven’t really formally established our relationship status.”

Jake nods. “And you want out?”

“What? No!”

“What’s the question, then?” Jake raises his eyebrows.

“It’s about the sex,” you say, stirring your drink with your straw to avoid looking at him.

“The what?” Jake exclaims, reaching for his empty glass of beer and bringing it to his mouth before realizing there is nothing left.

You clear your throat and glance up at him, slightly mortified. “It’s… it’s good, it’s just” –

“Woah, woah, woah!” he shouts, leaping up from his seat as though your words have burned him. “I don’t want to hear about that!”

You give him a flat look. “Jake, I literally found you naked on my couch last month. The least you could do is give me some guidance.”

Jake squirms. “I’m not – I can’t,” he stammers. “I don’t think I can listen to this.”

“Why not?!”

Jake lets out a dramatic moan. “Why don’t you ask your brother?”

“For advice on my sex life?” you hiss.

“Don’t you have friends?” Jake asks, dropping back into his seat.

“I need a guy’s opinion.”

Jake lets out an irritable sigh and gives his head a slight shake to indicate that he’s still not on board with this turn of events. “Don’t you have guy friends?”

You nod. “I do. And you’re one of them. Are you not?”

Jake stares at you defeatedly. “How detailed is this going to get?”

You glance over your shoulder to check on the crowd of people waiting for drinks at the bar, looking for your brother. You spot him nowhere near the counter, chatting up a stunning brunette, and resolve that you have at least fifteen minutes alone with Jake. You turn back to him and say, “That depends on how helpful you want to be.”

Jake whimpers. “I have no alcohol left.”

You roll your eyes. “Have mine,” you say, sliding your cocktail across the bistro table.

Jake takes the glass from you, his hand wrapping momentarily around yours before you let go. “Okay,” he says, taking a big gulp. “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” you say with a hesitant sigh. “So, the thing is, he really wants to try” –

“Nope, no, nuh-uh,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I don’t want to know.” He buries his face in his hands.

“Dude, I need your help!”

“You want my advice? Here it is,” he says, leaning into the table so suddenly that you jerk backward just to prevent a collision between your two faces. “Doesn’t matter what he wants to try if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“But it’s” –

Jake holds up a hand. “I don’t care what it is. If you’re sittin’ here talkin’ to me about it, it means you don’t want to do it.”

You stare at him, wondering when Jake Seresin had the opportunity to amass such profound wisdom. You furrow your eyebrows. “Even if it’s, like, supposedly a normal thing people do?”

Jake hooks his eyebrow; you’ve piqued his interest. “That’s what he told you?”

You nod slowly.

Jake lets out a long, heavy breath through his nose, his lips pressed tightly together as his jaw clenches. He studies your face with a look of concern. “You tell that asshole that the next time he pressures you into doing anything, he’s going to have to deal with me.” Jake takes another swig of your cocktail and then adds, “And your brother, of course.”

You grimace. “He’s not pressuring me. It just… was brought to my attention that there is a particular thing that we could be doing – that many people do – that we’re not currently doing – that… ugh, it would be so much easier if you just let me tell you what the thing is!”

Jake places a hand on your knee. “If you tell me what the thing is, I might hurl.” You groan in frustration while Jake pats your leg sympathetically. He shakes his head. “I knew this guy was gonna be a dick.”

Read Part 5

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sweetyluvs · 1 year ago

Note

thigh riding with ellie. that’s all i ever want 🙏

no because this thought has been in my mind for months !!

you held onto ellie’s arms, her hands gripped your hips tightly; keeping them on track. Back and forth, up and down. soft whines and moans of her name slipping from your lips with eachjerk of her thigh rutting into your soaking cunt, her playful, clueless questions making you upset. “hm? what is it, doll?” she hummed out, her eyes staring down at the slick of your excitement smearing on her bare leg. “ngh.. ellie.. please..” you whimpered out, hope draining as your clit began to become sore from the consistent rubbing of the bud. “please what?” she said; her voice less playful and more harsh, grabbing your hips harder. You gasp, watching her watch you get off on her thigh had you feeling horny all over again. “use your fucking words, babe.” she said, her eyes finally trailing from her erotic pussy to your pleading eyes. You didn’t say anything, too shy to reply back. “i’m not doing anything for you until you say something.” you moaned when she shoved her thigh up, not quite doing what you’d hoped— but jamming your hips up and down, your clit being hit on repeat. Gasps of surprised echoed the room, soon turning into pleasure. Your hips instinctively bucked for more when she slowed down, and you continued on your own.

Hips trailing your pussy slowly along a little of her thigh before lifting up and slamming back down, each movement had the nub coursing with pleasure. “yeah, do it yourself..” ellie muttered, almost breathlessly upon seeing you actually doing it. when ellie began to continuously move her thigh in the opposite pattern of your hips, your clit was being banged every moment of the time you were on top of her, causing the familiar sensation to begin to bubble inside you again. You sped up your pace, moving your hands up ellie’s arms for support, her own hands not daring to leave you— fingers sure to leave bruises. “els.. i’m.. i’m gonna..” she hummed in acknowledgment, her leg continued to move. “okay, go again. fuckin’ slut.” the last words slipping from her mouth caused a loud moan to rip from you, pleasure coursing through your veins— much more than you would’ve thought thigh riding could’ve done for you. You shuttered when her hands began to make your hips move again, your fresh orgasm causing your clit to still be not only puffy, but even more sore. “ellie.. ellie— ngh,” you gasped, “i can’t…” she huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “you’ll do whatever I say. i mean; look at you,” she scanned you, and your cunt throbbed under her gaze. “you’ll do whatever i say.” you nodded, it wasn’t really a choice.

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aroui · 1 year ago

Text

for you

it’s crowded in the cafe but at least a pretty boy approached you, right?

a lyney and reader meet-cute :)

“uh, mind if i sit here?”

in a jam-packed cafe, lyney had no other choice but to sit on the chair opposite of yours. as much as you wanted to protect your peace, you had no choice but to give it up for the attractive stranger in front of you.

“sure,” you replied. it’s impossible anyways, peace was never an option on friday afternoons. you shift your attention back to your laptop, opting to continue your work. as much as you wanted to stare at the pale-haired fellow.

sitting right next to a window wasn’t that great of an idea either. the gazes of passersby are starting to linger a few seconds longer on the person in front of you, it’s almost like he’s putting up a show.

though, you couldn’t blame them. he was pretty, clad in formal clothes that complement his lithe form so well, with hair so bright and eyes so colorful you could get lost in them–

but, you wanted to know what his plans are after this. after all, you never know when you’ll meet another individual as interesting as the one in front of you right now.

“are you going somewhere?” you speak.

“it’s my outfit, isn’t it?” he asks sheepishly. you curtly nod.

“ah, well, i’m a performer of sorts,”

“really?”

“really,”

“wow,”

the conversation quickly ends in awkward silence. he hasn’t finished his drink, your paperwork isn’t even nearly done.

well–

“would you like to see a magic trick?”

“so, you’re a magician?” you raise an eyebrow, suddenly even more interested.

“you answered my question with another?”

“you just did what i did,” you point at him, although it’s without malice. you just wanted to learn about what interests him, that’s all.

“just,” he sighs, “‘yes’ or ‘no’?”

a pause.

“ok,” you breathe out. there’s no harm, right?

he pulls out a deck of cards, spreading it out on the table with the back of the cards facing up. he pulls one out with an image of a flower on it. it looks familiar, though you can’t remember its name.

he flips it, the back of the card now facing you. then, he flips it again.

but instead of an image, it’s an actual one.

a flower.

“woah!” you laugh heartily. it was no funny joke or trick, but something about his actions made you feel so giddy and full inside that you couldn’t help but let a smile take over your face.

“for you,” he reaches for your hand and you let him. you let him put the flower in your grasp.

you can’t help but eye the multitude of pigments that the flower is showing. blink and the color you’re looking at is gone, as if the flower was aware of your watchful eyes.

“thank you, um,”

“lyney,” he smiles and your heart skips a beat.

“it’s nice to meet you, lyney,”

“likewise,” he says your name, the letters softly rolling out of his tongue.

#genshin impact x reader #fluff #lyney x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin lyney #lyney x you #genshin impact lyney #lyney #genshin impact #genshin #to get rid of writer’s block #this man has been plaguing my mind ever since i got him #lyney x y/n

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nomoreusername · 4 months ago

Text

The Past

Pairing:Gally x female reader

Summary:When you want to find the truth, you inject yourself with a stinger.

It was a bad idea. Maybe. Probably.

Yeah. It was a really dumb idea.

Nevertheless, I barely hesitated to do said idea.

I don't trust many people. I don't think any of this makes sense. I don't think Teresa and I have any correlation to the Maze.

I had to know for sure though.

That's why I stabbed myself with the Griever stinger before anybody could actually register it. I grabbed the stinger and jammed it into my leg, immediately sending me to the ground. The world around me blurred as my eyes shut.

I seemed to be floating outside of my body, watching years and years ago. I mean I’m assuming so, judging by the way that I seemed to be watching a smaller me interacting with somebody familiar.

“I don't want them to take me,”I whispered, clinging to someone who was so close to my memory yet I couldn't put my finger on it.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll see you soon,”the boy promised.

I know that face and voice. I swear I do, but everything's a mess. Everything is blurry.

“Alby, I don't trust them,”I pleaded.

“But-”

“I know you don't, but you have to go with them. Just for now,”He pushed.

“Y/N, it's-”

“Y/N, look at me,”He pushed, his voice firm and urgent. I stood straight up as I did as he said, wiping my eyes a little. “Listen to them for now. It's the only way we’re safe. Okay?”

“Okay,”I nodded.

“We just-”

“Don't touch her,”Alby interrupted, pulling me behind him.

“It's just-”

“She doesn't like being touched,”Alby said firmly.

“So do not touch her. Ever,”He warned.

“Fine. Y/N, come on.”

The words were slurred again despite people’s lips moving. I looked closely, almost squinting as I attempted to read them.

I didn't get that done before that feeling came back. The feeling of the world being one dimension. The feeling of everything being a rush.

Until it wasn't.

Until I was watching younger but slightly older me, standing in a room with what seemed to be Teresa.

“I don't know anyone. Not really. Only Thomas and Ava,”She admitted, her voice quiet.

“You can know me? If you’d like?”I offered.

“You wouldn't mind?”

“Why would I mind?”

“Because . . . you know?”

Know what?

“I do, but I’ll still be your friend?”I smiled.

“Really?”

“Yeah. What's your name?”

“I’m Teresa,”She introduced, slowly holding out her hand to give me the option to shake her hand. Not demanding. Truly offering.

“I’m Y/N,”I introduced, accepting it.

The moment was sweet and genuine. It also explained why I had felt so drawn to Teresa, so determined to trust her.

Because some part of me knows her.

That was ruined by that blurry feeling though, as I was forced into some other time, some other memory that was barely a blur.

“We can trust her, Gally. She's my friend.”

First Alby, then Teresa, now Gally? What the hell? Do I just know everyone in the Glade?

“Well, I don't trust her. Not one bit,”He argued.

“Well, I trust her. Isn't that enough?”

“It usually is, but not for something like this.”

“For something like WC-”

“For something like what? Just stop dancing around it, and spit it out already.”

“Y/N,”a firm yet almost soft, enthusiastic voice greeted. I snapped my head at the same time as younger me to see younger Alby.

“Alby,”I greeted back, running up and swiftly throwing my arms around him. He hugged me back, relief written all over his face.

“Have you been okay lately?”

“As good as it gets in here,”I shrugged, pulling away.

“And you’ve been behaving in front of them, right?”

“Ehh. I’m working on that part.”

I turned around at the sound of footsteps to see that Gally was leaving, hands in his pockets as he thought about whatever that conversation was.

What was it though? I don't quite get it. Everything is so vague, and it's like something is almost clicking but not quite ready.

I didn't get to find out though, before I was in front of a new scene. One with a slightly older but still younger Teresa.

“It's just odd sometimes, you know? Being in this one space with one person almost all day, every day. It's isolating,”She ranted.

“It’d be weird if it didn't seem like that sometimes,”I shrugged.

“It's supposed to be the right thing though, and I want to do the right thing. I have to do the right thing.”

“You don't have to do anything. You want to do the right thing. It’s different,”I argued.

“Not with them, it's not,”She mumbled.

“There's always a choice. Granted, it might have consequences, but there are choices nevertheless.”

“I don't even know what the consequences would be. That means I have to keep doing this, for everyone.”

“For the world you mean?”

“Yeah. For the world,”She nodded.

What is Teresa doing for the world though? What am I missing?

As the world blurred, it was clear I wouldn't find out here.

“Just trust her, okay? We can trust her,”I almost pleaded, back to standing in front of Gally.

“No. I can't trust her. I won't.”

“Gall, just for a little? Just give her a chance? She deserves that,”I said firmer.

“I can't just give her a chance. If it was different, fine, but it isn't. Her side is different.”

Side? What side? What am I missing?! What exactly am I missing?!

“She's conflicted, but she isn't bad. I have trust in her. I always have.”

“And it's great. It's great that you can see the good, but I don't. I just can't.”

Why is she bad? How could she be? She's one of the only people here I’ve actually liked. She's been nothing but kind, and having another girl there has been a lifesaver.

I didn't get to think about that either as the world did the obnoxious blur thing that made me want to rip my hair off yet again.

“Would you have done it any differently? If you knew it would end like this?”

Gally’s voice was much softer this time and far more kind. It was sympathetic even. Even though the words could have been described as gotcha, it was clear they weren't meant to be like that.

“No. Not really,”I answered.

The memories were strange. They were in order, but I can't tell what it means. There's surely supposed to be another message, but said message is unclear.

“You’ll miss me though, right?”He whispered.

My expression dropped as I looked at him. Without a word, I grabbed his hand, lacing our fingers together.

“I’ll miss you every day,”I whispered, placing my free hand on his cheek.

Every part of me burned as it felt like I was intruding on a moment I wasn't supposed to see. Even though they're my own memories, the closeness seemed private, like I had to cover my eyes.

What was even more surprising is that he kissed back. He put his free hand behind my head and accepted the kiss with a kind of gentleness I didn't know he had.

Without a word, I pressed my lips against his for just a moment. Even though I kind of expected it, I was still caught off guard. I mean me kissing someone isn't something I could predict, much less me kissing someone I currently know.

I didn't get to see that side for long before the blur came back even worse. Nobody was talking, but there were voices that were far too loud and blending together. Everything was turning dark as well, like my eyes were being forced shut.

“Think she’ll wake up soon?”

Wake up? Why do I need to wake up?

“I think so. She has to, right?”

As I had this hell of a headache, I found myself staring at light. Squinting, I covered my eyes as I very slowly sat up.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I uncovered my face to see Gally. Immediately, my face burned at the memory from who knows how long ago. And he doesn't even know.

Speaking of not knowing, what about Teresa? I have to talk to her, right? See if I can find out what happened?

“I’m fine. Teresa though, where is she?”

“Why?”He asked quickly.

“Why what?”

“If we can sacrifice them to-”

“Why does it matter where she is? All of this is because of her and Thomas.”

“Where is Teresa?”I repeated.

Not needing to hear anything else, I stood up, rushing past him and out the door. The second I stepped out, I saw chaos all around me, fire having burned the Glade to the ground and destruction everywhere. Absolutely nothing was saved. Nothing.

It can't be her fault though.

“Do you see? Our home is gone,”He justified, walking out and standing beside me.

“She doesn't have anything to do with it,”I restated.

“Y/N, her and Thomas are trouble. They have been from the start.”

“So Teresa is trouble, but I wasn't?”

“It's just different, okay?”

“Why? Because we kiss?”

“What?”He asked quickly, the confusion at my words becoming clear as day. I internally cringed at my hotheaded words as I remembered that he doesn't know.

And right now my instincts are telling me to look for them.

It doesn't matter though. I have to get Teresa and Thomas. Even if I seem like the worst person ever for this, even if I’m wrong, I have to follow my instincts.

#gally x y/n #gally x you #gally x reader #tmr gally #gally tmr #gally maze runner #maze runner gally #the maze runner #tmr #one shot

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dovesdreaming · 5 months ago

Note

Hi dove! Recently followed u so hihi. I saw u wanted more Deadpool requests so here is one: enemies to lovers with Deadpool. Maybe like they bicker a lot but actually care for one another. 🖤♥️

Love and bullets

Hi!! Welcome to my blog- I loved this request!!! It was so fun to write I hope you enjoy it <3

Warnings: mentions of guns/bullets

You always knew when Deadpool was about to make an entrance. It wasn’t just the sound of gunfire or the occasional explosion- it was the running commentary that accompanied it, full of sarcasm and innuendo, loud enough to hear over anything. That, and the trail of destruction he usually left in his wake. “Hey, sweetheart! Miss me?” His voice rang out, filled with that trademark mix of cockiness and glee that never failed to get under your skin. You rolled your eyes, barely pausing as you took down another thug in the dark, grimy alley. “Not even a little, wade”. Deadpool landed beside you with a flourish, his red and black suit practically gleaming despite the darkness. “Ouch, right in the heart. Lucky for me, I have regeneration powers”. “Yeah, lucky you” you muttered, sheathing your weapon and surveying the area. The mission was almost done, all that was left was cleaning up the stragglers.

“You know” he continued, leaning casually against a dumpster, “you really need to work on your gratitude. I just saved your pretty little butt back there”. You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “You mean the guy I was about to take down before you swooped in and stole my kill?”. “Tomato, tomahto” He waved his hand dismissively. “Besides, we make a good team. You with your ‘I’m so serious and focused’ routine, and me with my devilish charm and razor-sharp wit. We’re like peanut butter and jam”. “I hate peanut butter” you deadpanned.

“Lies!” he gasped, clutching his chest in mock horror. “How could you say such a thing? Peanut butter is a gift from the snack gods!”. You couldn’t help but crack a smile, even though you tried to hide it. Being around Wade was like this—infuriating, exhausting, and yet somehow, undeniably entertaining. As much as he drove you crazy, you couldn’t deny that you looked forward to these moments, the banter, the back-and-forth that seemed to come so naturally between you.

“Come on” you said, trying to get back on track. “We’ve got one more target to take out before we can call it a night”. Deadpool’s eyes sparkled mischievously behind his mask. “Is it a makeout session? Because I’ve been dying to know what you look like under that stoic exterior. I bet you’re a real softie deep down”. You shot him a withering glare. “In your dreams, Wilson”. “Every single night, babe” he quipped with a wink.

Shaking your head, you turned to leave, but Wade fell into step beside you. The night was quiet now, the earlier chaos fading into the background as you moved through the city, side by side. Despite the constant bickering, there was a strange sort of comfort in Wade’s presence. As much as you hated to admit it, he had saved your life more times than you could count, and you’d done the same for him. There was an unspoken trust between you, forged in the heat of battle, even if you didn’t always see eye to eye.

“So, where’s this last target of ours?” Wade asked, twirling a knife between his fingers as if it were a toy. “Up ahead” you replied, nodding toward an abandoned warehouse at the end of the street. “Intel says he’s holed up inside. Shouldn’t be too hard to take him out”. Wade grinned. “Sounds like my kind of party”. As you approached the warehouse, the tension between you shifted. The banter fell away, replaced by a shared focus on the task at hand. This was another thing you appreciated about Wade, when it came down to it, he knew how to get the job done, and he was damn good at it.

You moved through the building like shadows, your movements silent and precise. The target was exactly where you expected him to be, surrounded by a few lackeys who were no match for the two of you. Within minutes, the job was done, the target neutralized. As the last body hit the floor, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “That’s it. Mission accomplished”. “Piece of cake” Wade said, wiping the blood from his blade before sheathing it. “You know, we really should do this more often. It’s like couple’s therapy, but with more explosions”.

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re impossible”. “And you love it” he shot back, that playful grin never leaving his face. You were about to respond when you felt a sharp sting in your side. Looking down, you saw blood beginning to soak through your suit. One of the lackeys must have gotten a lucky shot in before going down. “Shit” you muttered, pressing a hand to the wound. Wade’s demeanor changed in an instant. He was at your side before you could blink, his usual flippant attitude replaced with something much more serious. “Hey, hey, hold on there. Let me see”. “It’s just a scratch” you tried to say, but the pain was real, and you were starting to feel lightheaded. “Just a scratch, my ass” Wade grumbled, carefully inspecting the wound. “You need to patch this up, now”.

He helped you over to a relatively clean spot on the floor, his touch surprisingly gentle as he supported you. For all his jokes and bravado, there was a tenderness in his actions that took you by surprise. “You’re going to be fine” he said, more to himself than to you as he reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out a first-aid kit. “You’re not dying on me, not today”. You watched him work, his focus entirely on you as he cleaned and dressed the wound with practiced efficiency. It wasn’t the first time he’d patched you up, but there was something different about this moment. The way he was so quiet, so careful it made your heart do an unexpected flip. “Wade…” you began, not really sure what you wanted to say.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and for once, there was no trace of humor in them. “Yeah?”. “Why do you always act like you don’t care?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, surprising even yourself. Wade paused, his hands stilling as he considered your question. For a moment, you thought he might deflect, make a joke to avoid answering, but then he sighed, his shoulders slumping just a bit. “Because it’s easier” he admitted quietly. “It’s easier to be the funny guy, the one who doesn’t take anything seriously. That way, no one expects anything from me. No one gets too close”. You frowned, trying to understand. “But… I thought you liked it when people got close”. He gave a small, almost sad smile. “Depends on the person”.

There was a beat of silence, and in that moment, everything seemed to shift between you. The constant bickering, the teasing, the way you always seemed to get under each other’s skin, it was all starting to make sense now. There was something deeper there, something you had both been avoiding for a long time. “You’re not going to lose me wade” you said softly, reaching out to touch his hand. “I’m not going anywhere”.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours, and for once, you saw the vulnerability that he usually kept hidden behind his mask of humor and bravado. “You say that now, but… I don’t know if I can trust it. Trust us”.“You can” you insisted, squeezing his hand. “We’ve been through too much together for this to be nothing”.

Wade’s eyes softened, and for the first time, you saw the walls he’d built around himself start to crumble. “I care about you, Y/N. More than I probably should”. The admission hung in the air between you, heavy and raw. You felt your heart skip a beat, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the blood loss. “I care about you too” you whispered, barely able to believe you were saying the words out loud. Wade’s expression softened further, and he leaned in closer, his hand cupping your cheek as he searched your eyes for any hint of doubt. Finding none, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender for someone as chaotic as Deadpool.

The kiss was slow, sweet, and when you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting together as you caught your breath. “So” Wade said after a moment, his voice a little shaky but still holding that familiar teasing edge, “does this mean we’re officially a thing? Because I’ve got a lot of bad habits you’re going to have to put up with”. You laughed softly, leaning into him. “Yeah, I think we are. And trust me, I’m more than up for the challenge”. He grinned, that mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “Good, because I’m a lot of work, babe. But I think you might be worth it”.

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agaypanic · 6 months ago

Text

The Fella Part 11 (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

The Fella Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: As prom approaches, the girls find a strange friend in the new Our Lady Immaculate student.

A/N: ahhhh only one chapter left!!! i usually don’t say the word count in fics, but this is the longest chapter of The Fella and possibly my longest fic to date, its almost 9k words long. So just a warning for yall. like the last few chapters, thanks to @crumpets-are-better-with-jam for writing out the script of this episode for me. Some suggestive stuff (not talking about michelle lol), but the characters are 17 and it’s not explicit. If you’re gonna be like “this surprise character you put in totally wouldn’t do this” just keep it to yourself bc i can do what i want, im the god of my creation (im so fucking crazy)

***

School formals were always exciting. At least, if you went with exciting people. And if it was a formal at the end of the year, it was even better because you could celebrate school ending and a summer of fun beginning.

One of the reasons Y/n and her friends were looking forward to the end of term was because they wouldn’t have to hear Jenny Joyce’s horrendous singing for a few months. Everyone in the assembly seemed to share their sentiment as they all stared at the stage, uninterested and displeased. It didn’t help that the girls were dressed in striped suit jackets, making them look like some sort of barbershop quartet. Y/n cringed as Jenny and her friends sang their last note, which wasn’t very good.

There was a slight pause, and Sister Michael looked relieved that this was the song’s end. “Lovely…” It was clear that she didn’t really think so. “And I believe you wrote the lyrics yourselves, is that correct?”

“It is indeed, Sister,” Jenny responded smugly.

“Makes sense,” Y/n muttered to her friends. “It was a load of shite.” They all made quiet sounds of agreement before turning their attention back to the stage.

“Do you ever think you might have too much time on your hands, girls?” Jenny and her group didn’t respond, but there was a murmur of giggles among the crowd as Sister Michael stood from her chair. “Lose the jackets.” She said, dismissing them from the stage before stepping up to the microphone. “Okay, just a couple of things. Firstly, I’d like to introduce Mae Cheung. Can you make yourself known, please, Mae?”

A few rows before the girls, a hand slowly and awkwardly rose into the air in the middle of the crowd. Everyone tried to get a good look at her, but it was difficult since most people could only see the back of her head.

“Miss Cheung’s family have recently moved here to Derry, so I hope you’ll all make her feel very welcome. It’s bound to be a bit of a culture shock, Mae. Things are done differently in this part of the world. But I’m sure you’ll soon feel as at home here as you did back in your beloved Donegal.” There was a beat of silence before Sister Michael remembered the other announcement she needed to make. She pulled out a piece of paper, looking at the crowd before reading it. “Announcement from Jenny Joyce and the dance committee: ‘The school social event for the year is fast approaching, but before you… don your glad rags… and- boogie- on- down…’” She sighed, looking at the paper appalled. “I’m sorry, I simply cannot read this.” She stepped away from the microphone, giving Jenny Joyce the paper before sitting in her chair.

Jenny eagerly went to the mic, showing too much energy and enthusiasm for a Monday morning with her big grin and little dance moves as she spoke. “But before you don your glad rags and boogie on down, we’d like to let you in on our little secret. We’re not actually gonna have a school formal this year.”

The assembly went into an uproar, and rightfully so. There were some murmurs of disbelief and booing, and Jenny waved her hands around with a smile.

“No, listen. We’re not gonna have a school formal. We’re gonna have…” As she paused for effect, her three friends started singing ‘doo-be doo’s in the background. “A fifties prom!”

That caused even more of a reaction. Michelle and Y/n were pretty vocal about this silly decision, gaining the attention of Sister Michael. “Girls!” She said, effectively quieting the large room. She addressed all the students, but her somewhat mischievous gaze was on Y/n and Michelle. “If you have any feedback, you can find Miss Joyce after assembly.”

“I know, I know.” Jenny laughed off everyone’s reactions. “But I do love a theme. Sure, isn’t that why they call me the Theme Queen?”

The girls looked at each other, confused. “Who said that?” Y/n asked.

“Do they?” Clare questioned.

“Do they fuck.” Michelle answered.

Jenny continued, not having heard their little conversation. “We wanted to have a real, old school, retro, vintage vibe, so feel free to just go for it!”

“Feel free to kiss my hole,” Michelle muttered.

After being released by Sister Michael, the girls and James walked through the hallways, discreetly looking for someone. Turning into one of the halls with a wall of lockers, Clare gasped.

“There she is.” Everyone saw the new girl, Mae, at her locker. Clare turned around to face her friends, filled with her usual frantic energy. “Okay, so, I say we just go over there and be ourselves, girls. Well, not totally ourselves. We should definitely be a bit ourselves. We could also pretend we’re sort of better than we actually are, so, I supposed what I’m saying is we could present a version of ourselves as less-”

“Shit.” Y/n finished the sentence, giving Clare a much-needed break to breathe.

“Precisely.”

“Why do we even have to talk to her?” Michelle asked, her crabby mood from having to listen to Jenny earlier still present.

Clare rolled her eyes, thinking the answer was obvious. “Because she’s new, Michelle.”

Michelle groaned. “I hate people I don’t know.”

“Aw.” Y/n cooed, putting an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “Does that mean you love us?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” She answered, shoving Y/n’s arm off.

“And, in case you hadn’t noticed, she happens to be Chinese.” Clare continued. “I mean, how class would it be to have a Chinese friend?”

“We could keep her in my toy box.” Y/n and Erin looked at their cousin with alarm.

“No, we couldn’t, Orla.”

“That’s kidnapping, I’m pretty sure.”

“She’d definitely fit,” Orla said adamantly.

“That’s not the point.”

“Fine.” Michelle was clearly ignoring the strange side conversation. “But can we agree it’s on a strict one-in-one-out basis? If she joins the group, James has to leave.”

Everyone responded in agreement, except for Y/n and James, of course. The girls made their way over to the new girl, leaving the couple confused.

“Excuse me?” James said to no one in particular, but then frowned at his girlfriend. “Are they serious?”

Y/n snorted, grabbing James’ arm. “Probably.” Without further elaboration, she pulled the boy towards the rest of their friends. Despite only being separated for a short time, it seemed that James and Y/n had missed some secondhand embarrassment from Clare’s brief interaction with the new girl, Mae.

Mae stared at Clare for a moment before looking at the group. “Is she alright?”

Michelle leaned down to Clare’s ear, rolling her eyes. “Burnin’ for you, Clare.”

“It’s Cantonese.” Clare stuttered out to Mae.

“Right. Well, I’m from Donegal, and we speak English there.”

“If you say so, Mae,” Michelle said. “But I spent a summer in Killybegs, and seriously, not a fuckin’ word.” Y/n elbowed her friend in the side, making a comment about how that might’ve been more of an issue with Michelle’s intelligence than with the town of Killybegs.

Clare smiled kindly at Mae, trying to amend the awkward situation. “We just wanted to introduce ourselves and-”

“-Okay, I think I see where this is going.” Mae interrupted, holding up her hand to further silence the short blonde. “I get this a lot. Dull, white girls want me to join their gang because, well…” Mae gestured to herself to finish the point.

“We’re not dull,” Erin argued.

“Sure.”

Y/n pointed to James. “And he’s a boy.”

“A man, Y/n.” James corrected, as if he had had this conversation many times. “I’m a man.”

“Woah.” Mae almost laughed. “She has a really fucked up accent.”

“We know,” Michelle said with a sigh.

James leaned into his girlfriend, slightly offended. “I’m not a girl; I’m a man.”

“Sure you are, Jamie,” Y/n said, patting his cheek before focusing back on the main conversation.

Mae sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder and looking the group over with a judging look. “What’s in this for me?” She asked. “What do you bring to the table?”

Orla held out her hand. “Six cream crackers?”

Y/n snatched one of the crackers and put it in her mouth, looking at Mae. “Five cream crackers.” She corrected. Mae raised her brow at the two girls.

“I’m good for cream crackers, thank you.” Her tone was filled with sass, but Orla didn’t catch it, so she just shrugged and put them back in her pocket. Mae slammed her locker closed and gave the girls one last look. “I’ll see you around, girls.”

The group disappointedly watched her walk off. Except for Orla, because the girl was an optimist through and through. “Maybe we don’t need a Chinese person.” She said. “We’ve still got a lesbian.”

Suddenly, Mae whipped her head back around. “What? Who?” She quickly walked back to the girls. Timidly, Clare raised her hand.

“Me.”

Mae didn’t look too convinced. “Really? You don’t look like a lesbian.”

Y/n put a protective arm around Clare, almost standing in front of her. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” She asked inquisitively. Mae’s sudden interest and then questioning of Clare being a lesbian was making Y/n wonder if the girls should even try to get her to be their friend.

Mae seemed to ignore Y/n, instead giving Clare a once-over. “It’s just that you’re a bit… short.”

“Well, there’s no height restrictions.” Clare rebutted before glancing at Y/n a bit anxiously. “As far as I’m aware.”

“Interesting.” Mae started looking like she was putting together a scheme in her head. “I’ve always wanted a gay friend. I mean, ideally, a fella-”

“Oh, we’ve got one right here.” Michelle laughed, pointing to her cousin. He and Y/n looked at her with exasperation.

“I’m not gay!”

“He’s not gay!”

“Howdy, folks.” The girls recognized the voice instantly, cringing at the sight of Jenny Joyce, who had now intercepted the entire interaction. Michelle made her distaste for the girl known with an eye roll and a little curse. Jenny ignored it. “I’m Jenny. This is Aisling.” She pointed to the tall brunette who seemed to always be by her side. “We just thought we’d introduce ourselves and see if-”

Clare jumped between Jenny and Mae, throwing her arms out to shield the new girl from Jenny. “Too late, Jenny. She’s ours.”

“I see,” Jenny responded, looking amused and alarmed by Clare before looking back to Mae. “Look, these girls are great, but I do have a pen pal from the Caribbean, so perhaps my circle is a bit more diverse.”

“Back. Off.” Clare seethed, her intensity starting to startle her friends.

Jenny managed to hand Mae a piece of paper with her phone number scribbled on it. “Think about it. Give me a call.” She was finally about to walk away when she remembered something and spun back around to the group. “Oh! And F-Y-I, the Prom Queen vote closes today.”

“F-Y-I, nobody gives a shit,” Michelle remarked.

Aisling held out a piece of paper, waiting for someone to take it. “Here’s the wee ballot.”

Erin snatched it quickly, rolling her eyes when she read the list of candidates. “I see you’ve thrown your hat in the ring, Jenny.”

The girl waved her hand, her humility clearly faked. “I had my arm twisted, but feel free to tick my box.” Then she finally left, Aisling in tow.

Y/n snorted. “I didn’t know Jenny was like that.”

“Dirty bitch.” Michelle added, shaking her head.

***

After school, the girls decided to go to the shopping center instead of straight home. After all, they had much to discuss. After hopping off the bus, they started their trek into town.

“This prom is going to be a full-blown dick fest.” Michelle started, the word ‘prom’ catching everyone’s attention. “Y’know there’s not even gonna be a DJ? Apparently, Jenny’s hired this fuckin’ pensioner band.”

“Fucks sake.” Y/n sighed.

“Christ, really?” Erin asked.

Michelle nodded. “I heard the drummer is at least thirty.” Seeing the smirk she wore when dropping that piece of information, Clare’s mouth dropped in horror.

“I don’t feel so bad about missing it now,” James said, feeling a sense of relief. “It clashes with my thing.”

Y/n confusedly looked at her boyfriend, unaware of what his ‘thing’ was. But before she could ask, Michelle rolled her eyes and looked back at her cousin. “The creep convention? Seriously?”

“It’s not a creep convention!”

Michelle shrugged, clearly not convinced. “Well, I think a load of perverts gettin’ together to wank over some fella who fights hoovers and rides aliens in a telephone box, is the very fuckin’ definition of a creep convention.”

James scoffed. “It’s a Doctor Who night. Me and my stepdad used to watch it when I was little.”

“Well, someone should’ve called Social Services then, James.”

“You’re not going to the prom then, James?” Clare asked, seeming offended. He shook his head, and Clare looked over to Y/n, who was already looking at her with a confused and disappointed look.

Eventually, the group reached the shopping center. The conversation moved to the topic of dates, or lack thereof.

“I have no clue who to ask.” Clare sighed, a bit frustrated. “I’d ask James, but-” She cut herself off, remembering that she was the only one completely aware of the relationship between James and one of her best friends.

“But you’re not desperate, Clare.” Michelle finished her sentence with a laugh. “And tell me about it. There’s at least five fellas who fancy the arse off’a me, but I just can’t choose.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely the same,” Clare responded with a grumpy face and monotonous tone.

Erin nudged the small blonde with her elbow. “I’ll be your date, Clare.”

“But, Erin, people might talk. They might get the wrong idea.”

“Let them.” She said proudly, head held high. “We need to break down these ridiculous conventions.”

Y/n would’ve commented about her sister’s somewhat fake activism, but she kept her mouth shut after seeing the hopeful look on dear Clare’s face. “Thank you.”

Erin would have responded to Clare if she hadn’t caught sight of a familiar face. Through the window of the cafe the girls were walking to, Erin could see a boy about their age sitting at a far table with a girl, and they both looked somewhat miserable. “Oh God, John-Paul’s over there,” Erin said stiffly, turning around to look at her friends. “Christ, but it’s been so awkward since we broke up.”

“For fuck’s sake, Erin,” Michelle said, remembering the event a bit differently than how Erin was painting it. “He kissed your cheek at Kerry Coyle’s sixteenth birthday party.”

“Didn’t he pass out in his own boke?” Y/n asked, recalling the embarrassing moment. “Feckin’ lightweight.”

Erin looked over her shoulder back at John-Paul. “Yeah, he missed that boat, alright.”

“Come on already.” Michelle opened the door, pushing the girls into the cafe. “I’m fucking starving.”

James was about to go inside but was held back by Y/n. The door closed after Orla, leaving the couple outside.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” James asked, as curious and thoughtful as ever.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the convention?”

James cringed at the twinge of hurt in her voice, realizing that he had never told her about the Doctor Who convention and how it was the same night at prom. “I… forgot?”

“You’re really gonna go?” Y/n didn’t want to start a fight over this, but she thought her boyfriend would have debated between prom and the convention, or tell her that he had plans at the very least. James nodded. “I just thought that, you know, prom is usually a couple’s thing. And we’re a couple. I thought it might be fun to go together.”

“I can go to prom if you want me to,” James said, wanting to please his girlfriend.

But that caused the opposite reaction. Y/n shook her head, a slight frown appearing on her face. “I don’t wanna force you to go, James. You can obviously go to the convention if you really want to. I just…” She sighed, getting a little worked up. “I just wish you would’ve told me first, that’s all.”

James nodded apologetically. “I was going to, Y/n, I swear. It just slipped my mind.”

“It’s fine.”

The two stood outside the cafe door, wondering if there was anything more to say or if they should go inside.

“You know, just because I’m not going doesn’t mean you don’t have to go,” James said, giving his girlfriend a hopeful look. “I mean, if you want to go, of course.”

Y/n nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

Another pause. “We’re okay, right?”

The slightly scared look on James’ face, like he had done something wrong, made Y/n place her hands on his cheeks and sweep her thumbs over his cheekbones in a comforting motion. “Of course, we’re okay, Jamie.” To emphasize the point, she gave him a peck on the lips before letting go of his face and grabbing his hand. “Now let’s go inside, I’m hungry.”

When they entered the cafe, James walked Y/n to the table their friends were sitting at and pulled out a chair for her to sit in before going to the counter to order for the both of them. “She is not a model!” Erin responded sharply to something Y/n had missed.

“Who’s not a model?” She asked quickly, and her friends looked at her like they didn’t realize she had just now entered the conversation.

“Cara something,” Michelle answered, not very discreetly pointing over to the girl sitting with John-Paul. “The girl that that John-Paul fella is pokin’. Heard she’s gonna be on Baywatch.”

“Oh yeah, I heard that too.”

Erin groaned in frustration, looking at her sister. “Get real, Y/n. She’s not gonna be on Baywatch.”

“It’s just what I heard.”

“Oh my God.” Clare seemed to be the only one still paying attention to John-Paul and the supposed Baywatch model. “Looks like they’re breaking up.”

The girls looked at the couple. Erin almost snapped her neck with how fast she turned her head. “Jesus, are they really?” She wondered aloud, a bit too hopefully. “Are they breaking up?” Cara got up and left the table, leaving a broken-hearted John-Paul to watch her walk away. Erin’s eyes also followed the girl, but she seemed much more gleeful about Cara’s departure. “They are. They’re breaking up. This is class!”

“What?” Clare asked, being the voice for the perplexed group of girls.

“Later.”

As soon as Cara was out the door, Erin jumped out of her seat and sped over to John-Paul.

“What’s class?” James startled the girls as he set some food and drinks on the table before sitting in the empty chair beside Y/n.

“Remember how we were talking about that lad John-Paul?” Y/n asked, taking a sip of her drink as James nodded. “Well, him and the girl he was with, who’s gonna be on Baywatch, by the way, broke up, and she left him. So now Erin’s swooped in like a vulture.”

“She has no respect for herself,” Michelle commented, looking over the menu on the table. “And coming from me…”

“That is bad.” Clare frowned.

“Terrible even,” Y/n added.

“Exactly.”

Clare, Orla, and Michelle soon got up and went to the counter to order. This gave Erin privacy to bother John-Paul, who looked like he was seconds away from a breakdown, and allowed Y/n and James to have lunch and talk in peace.

“Can I have a bite of your sandwich?” The girl asked, pointing at the nibbled-on food in front of James.

“If I can have a bite of your doughnut.” He responded, pointing his own finger to the sweet treat.

The couple nodded in agreement and held their food to each other’s mouths. They took a bite at the same time, mumbling about how good the food was while chewing.

“What’re you doing?” Michelle asked, her lip curling in a slight snarl as she, Clare, and Orla came back to the table.

“What?” Y/n asked, not noticing James taking a second bite of her doughnut.

“You’re looking like you’re going out or something,” Michelle explained, wagging her finger between the two teens. “It’s making me sick. Like, if someone thought I was goin’ out with James, I think I’d kill myself.”

“Hey!”

“Well, he is your cousin, Michelle.” Y/n laughed.

Her friend shrugged and sat down, muttering about how the English thing was worse before talking to Clare about something else. With the attention off of them, Y/n reached down to squeeze James’ hand and smiled at him. But the smile was soon wiped off her face when she realized her doughnut was now half eaten.

***

Erin boasted about her new prom date the entire walk home, much to everyone else’s outspoken chagrin and annoyance. James, Michelle, and Clare were lucky, because they didn’t live in the McCool-Quinn household. So after the three dispersed from the group to go to their own homes, Y/n and Orla had to hear about Erin’s plans to get a new dress and maybe even new shoes to impress John-Paul for their date.

Then, the rest of their family got to hear about it.

“This is a huge deal.” Erin insisted to her mother that she was following around the kitchen. “This is a massive, massive deal. I’m going to the prom with John-Paul O’Reilly, for God’s sake. Come on, Mammy!”

Mary shook her head. “I don’t care if you’re going to the prom with John Paul the Second, Erin. I’m not buying you another frock. End of story.”

“But, Mammy, you don’t understand.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with your Easter dress.”

Erin scoffed. “There’s lots of things wrong with my Easter dress.”

“It matches Y/n and Orla’s.” Mary persisted, waving her hand over to the girls she just named. Orla was wearing her Easter dress and holding her mother’s cigarette while she and Y/n pinched the fabric at her waist to see what had to be taken in.

“That being the main one.”

“Honestly, Erin, I think we’ll look so cracker if we rock up wearin’ these.” Orla grinned, doing a little shimmy with her words.

Erin raised her brows and gave her cousin a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Right, well I don’t.”

Aunt Sarah pulled more on the loose fabric, grabbing her cigarette from her daughter for a quick drag. “Ach, Mary, you’d think the wain’s been dropped into it. You wouldn’t nip it in a bit for her? I’d do it meself, but sewing plays havoc on my acrylics.”

“Fine.”

“Y/n, dear, can you pin it for me?” Sarah asked, gesturing to her nails. The girl nodded and grabbed some safety pins to cinch Orla’s dress. “Then afterward, Orla and I can do yours for you.”

“Nah, that’s fine,” Y/n replied. “Don’t think I’ll wear it.”

Orla gasped in disappointment, wondering why both her cousins didn’t want to match with her. Meanwhile, Erin kept trying to convince her mother she absolutely needed a new frock.

“I really like this fella, Mammy.”

“Well, if he really likes you, it won’t matter what you wear.”

“Ach, come off it!”

“Have you a date lined up, girls?” Aunt Sarah asked her daughter and niece before taking a drag of her cigarette.

One seemed to be more enthusiastic about the question than the other. “I do, aye,” Orla answered.

“What?” Erin gave her cousin a strange look. “...With, like, a human?”

The girl blinked before nodding, like Erin was the strange one. “...Yeah.”

“What about you, love?” Sarah looked to Y/n, who was wrapped up in making sure she didn’t accidentally stab Orla. The girl looked up when she realized she was being spoken to. “Has anyone snatched you up for the dance yet?”

Y/n shook her head, trying to not seem so disappointed about it. “Nope. But it’s fine.” She sighed, going back to picking at her nails. “I dunno if I’m even gonna go.”

“What d’ya mean you’re not going?” Erin questioned, seeming offended that her sister would even debate not attending the prom. “You have to go.”

“Why do I have to go, Erin?”

Erin made that little sort of laugh and eye roll that she did when she felt like someone had said something silly or dumb, and she was about to correct it with her obvious intelligence. “It’s prom, Y/n. It’s a big deal.”

“It’s only prom-” Y/n was cut off by a commotion in the living room. Gerry yelped in surprise as Joe banged on something, but no one seemed to care enough to look at what was happening. She shook her head and continued. “Besides, Erin, there’ll be other proms. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Y/n could tell her sister wasn’t entirely convinced. To be perfectly honest, she wasn’t too convinced herself. But she’d rather lie and say she didn’t care than make James feel bad about being unable to take her.

Erin looked at Y/n inquisitively. She walked up to her and crossed her arms. “Is this because Ja-”

“This stupid prick’s broken the TV, Mary!” Joe cried out, and his daughter rushed to the living room. Gerry looked appalled at his father-in-law. “He’s been futterin’.”

“Excuse me, you’re the one that was thumpin’ it repeatedly, Joe.”

“I’ll thump you repeatedly.”

“Well, the pair of you’d better sort it out!” Mary interjected before walking over to her sister. “London’s Burning’s on in twenty minutes.”

“God, Mary, but them poor fellas are flat out with fires, so they are. Jesus, but they never get a minute.”

Behind Mary, Joe started to slam the television even harder than before, and Gerry cringed with every slap. “Aye, it’s a good job they keep themselves in such great shape.”

“Don’t, Mary.” Sarah gasped. “That Greek fella…”

“He could throw me over his shoulder any day of the week.”

Y/n and Erin stared at their mother and aunt before looking at each other. They were both equally horrified and disgusted.

“They make me sick.”

“Boke-o-rama.”

***

Clare didn’t take the news of Erin ditching her for John-Paul very well, despite telling Erin it was fine. Erin was the only one who believed her, too wrapped up in her and John-Paul’s revived “relationship.” But Clare pretty quickly found a new date: the new girl from Donegal, Mae, who was going dress shopping with the girls and James when she heard about Erin’s little betrayal.

After Clare’s date problem was solved, the girls had to solve their dress problem. But Michelle came to the rescue—or rather, her mother’s credit card that she stole came to the rescue. Despite Clare’s very vocal opinion about committing a crime, the rest of the girls were on board on account of having no money.

“What do you think of this one?” Erin asked, coming out in a very tight, turquoise dress.

“It’s very…” Y/n trailed off, trying to think of an appropriate word. “Different.”

“I’m not sure it’s you, really,” Michelle added.

“Good,” Erin said, in a bit of a struggle as she walked over to a mirror. “I don’t wanna be me.”

Clare walked up to the group, holding two dresses. “Which of these do you like best?”

“Definitely the pink,” Erin answered.

But Clare didn’t care much about Erin’s opinion. “Has to be the blue,” Mae said, and Clare glared at Erin.

“Yeah, I thought the blue.”

“What about you, Y/n?” James asked a bit quietly, holding a pile of dresses that all the girls had thrown at him. “Don’t you wanna look for a dress? You are going to the prom, right?”

He knew her answer before she said it, because she gave him a bit of a frown and a shrug. “I don’t think I will.”

“Y/n-”

“It’s fine, really! I was thinking of helping Daddy fix our TV.” She looked around at all the clothing racks before giving James what she hoped was a convincing smile. “Besides, nothing here’s really my taste.”

“Although, I have heard he’s really good with his hands.” Michelle talking about one of her possible dates reached the couples’ ears. “And when I say he’s good with his hands, I’m not talking about puttin’ up shelves, girls. I’m talking about-”

“Everybody knows what you’re talking about, Michelle.” James interrupted, hoping it would be enough for her to move on. But everybody also knew there was no stopping Michelle from her vulgarity.

The curly-haired girl smirked. “Fingerin’.”

James cringed. “Honestly…”

After much decision-making about what dresses to get, the girls went to the front to pay with Michelle’s stolen card. Mae, who didn’t find a dress she liked, gasped and pointed behind the counter to a red dress that was hung up.

“Oh my God, that’s the one! Can I try that one on, please?”

“Sorry, love.” The shop owner said apologetically. “That’s being left over for someone.”

“What?”

“Hiya!” In came Jenny Joyce, holding a couple of balloons. “Sorry girls, can’t stop.”

“Don’t worry.” Y/n smiled. “No one asked you to.”

“I’m just grabbing a few wee bits for the prom.” Jenny continued while the owner started bagging up the red dress. “Sure, you know how it is.”

“I was actually about to try that one on,” Mae said, pointing to the dress Jenny was now paying for.

“Well, I left it over, so…”

“It’s just that, red’s my color.”

“Yeah, mine too.”

The rest of the girls backed up a bit, surprised by how hostile Mae and Jenny were becoming towards each other. “No, you don’t understand. I really, really suit it.” The shop owner placed the bag on the counter, and Mae inched her hand towards it. “Garnet’s actually my birthstone.”

“Well, ruby’s mine, so…” Jenny grabbed her bag, and Mae slammed her hand on the counter. She looked at the Joyce girl menacingly. If Jenny was intimidated, she definitely didn’t show it.

“I want that dress, Jenny.”

“Well, you can’t have it.” Jenny left the store, leaving the girls to deal with Mae, who was cursing her out and beyond livid.

***

Prom night had finally arrived after much anticipation. Erin was upstairs in her room getting ready on her own while Aunt Sarah was doing her daughter’s hair and makeup in the kitchen. Mary watched while sipping her tea because Erin didn’t want her help, and Y/n decided to help her father fix their busted television set instead of going to the dance. Granda Joe was nowhere to be found, which relieved Gerry a bit because it meant his father-in-law wasn’t criticizing him.

“Now, close your eyes,” Sarah said, picking up two giant cans of hairspray. “I’m just going to give you a wee light mist, just so it holds for you.”

Y/n could smell the fumes from her spot on the floor in the living room, so she could only imagine what it was like being her mother or cousin in the kitchen. A cloud of hairspray surrounded Orla, making her cough a bit, and Mary covered her tea.

Finally ready, Erin came down from her room and into the kitchen. It took her a bit of effort because her dress was so tight that she had to take baby steps in her heels. “What do you think?” Everyone looked at her, all seeming to have the same reaction.

Mary looked the most surprised by her daughter’s appearance. “God, aye. It’s…” She trailed off, wanting to be honest but nice about it. “Different, isn’t it?”

“Different?” Erin asked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well… it was nice of Michelle to lend it to you, love, but it just doesn’t look…” Mary grimaced, trying to choose her words carefully, “very comfortable.”

Erin rolled her eyes a little. “It’s really comfortable, actually.” She said, walking closer. “It’s like a second skin.”

“I don’t think that’s a good thing, Erin,” Y/n called out, handing Gerry a screwdriver. “I dunno if a second skin should be turquoise and… Well, squeaking when you walk.”

“It does not squeak,” Erin replied, squeaking as she hobbled to the table.

Erin looked forward to see Orla looking at her grumpily. “I wish you would wear your Easter frock, Erin. When we were wee, we always went to parties dressed the same.”

“We’re not wee anymore, Orla.”

Orla grumbled in agreement while Erin handed her mother a piece of paper. Mary unfolded it and looked it over, and Aunt Sarah did the same from over her shoulder.

“What’s this?” Mary asked.

“It’s some guidelines,” Erin answered. “Things you are and aren’t allowed to say to John-Paul when he gets here.”

“Right.” Mary stared into her daughter’s eyes, not looking away as she crumpled the paper into a ball. Erin looked a bit disturbed but decided it was best not to say anything.

“What time’s your date arriving at, Orla, love?” Sarah asked, doing the final fixes on Orla’s hair.

Granda Joe waltzed into the room, wearing a white suit with a yellow rosette pinned to it. “He’s already here.” He said, doing a little spin before walking the rest of the way to the kitchen.

“You asked Granda to the prom?” Erin asked, smiling a little.

Orla’s grin was the widest in the bunch, eyes staying on her grandfather. “Well, everyone kept sayin’ you have to ask a fella you really like, and this is the fell I like the most.” Joe beamed, bowing down and presenting another yellow rose from his pocket for the girl.

“That’s so sweet, Orla.” Y/n said from her spot next to the TV. “Granda’s a lucky lad, that’s for sure.”

“Why, thank you, love,” Joe replied, turning to fully show his granddaughter the happy smile he had been sporting.

“Aye, you’re looking well, Joe,” Gerry added, taking a small break from trying to repair the television to weigh in.

“Oh, it’s not all shite you talk, Gerry.” Gerry gave his daughter an unimpressed look, making her giggle as he went back to the task at hand. Joe turned back to Orla. “Should we head?”

“John-Paul’s picking me up at seven,” Erin replied. “You go on; we’ll see you there.”

Joe looked back to Y/n, waiting for her answer. The girl waved her hand. “Oh, I’m not goin’. Don’t have a date and all that. Besides, I dunno what I’d wear.”

“You could wear your Easter frock, Y/n,” Orla said, trying to entice the girl once more into matching with her. But she just laughed and shook her head.

“No thanks, Orla.”

While Orla said goodbye to her mother and aunt, Joe walked over to Mary and whispered something to her. They looked over at Y/n, who didn’t notice their eyes because she was looking for a tool her father had asked for. Mary nodded at Joe for an unknown reason, and soon, he and Orla were off to the prom.

Erin sat down, struggling quite a bit because of her dress’s tightness. When she was settled, she looked at the clock. Only fifteen minutes until John-Paul arrived.

***

When twenty minutes had passed, Y/n knew John-Paul wasn’t coming for her sister. She couldn’t say she was surprised, but she was still saddened for her sister. “I’ll be right back, Daddy,” Y/n whispered before standing up and sneaking to the entrance where the phone and some privacy were.

Y/n knew she had to call someone, but was racking her brain on who. Everyone she knew was either at the prom or busy with something else.

Suddenly, she jumped as if the idea that came to her had shocked her. She quickly dialed and held the phone to her ear, listening to the rings.

Then, someone finally picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“David?”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” She peered out the door, seeing Erin still staring at the clock. “How’ve you been?”

“Same old stuff, really,” David answered. “Band’s picked up a few gigs this month, it’s been pretty-”

“That’s great. Listen, can you do me a favor?”

David couldn’t help but laugh at the interruption and how urgent Y/n sounded. “Uh, maybe? What d’ya need?”

“Remember my sister, Erin?” He made a small hum of confirmation. “Well, she used to have a massive thing for you until that whole thing at Jenny’s party a few months ago.”

“You mean when she called that Russian girl your fella was going out with a prostitute?”

“She was Ukrainian, but yes. Anyway, she pretty much gave up on you after that because the whole thing was so embarrassing. But…” Y/n looked to the kitchen again. She could see Mary looking at her daughter a bit sadly, as if she also knew John-Paul wasn’t coming for her. “The prom’s tonight, and her date’s not coming. And… as annoying as she is, she’s my sister and all. So I was wondering if maybe you’d be willing to-”

“I’ll be there at 7:30.” David cut her off, feeling it was only fair since she had interrupted him just moments ago.

Y/n had to keep herself from squealing, not wanting to give Erin the idea that something was going on. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

After saying a quick goodbye, Y/n hung up the phone and snuck back out to the living room. David would arrive in twenty minutes, and she just had to count on Erin being hopeful enough to wait that much longer.

Nothing much had really happened in those twenty minutes. Y/n assisted Gerry in fixing their broken TV, Mary and Aunt Sarah played a card game, and Erin sat and stared at the clock. The only time she moved was to go to the phone in the kitchen, but she was so quiet and far away that Y/n had no idea who she was calling.

When the clock struck 7:30, Erin sighed. “He’s not coming.”

“Ach, love.” Mary frowned.

“I’m gonna go and change.” That made Y/n panic, and she scrambled off of the floor.

“What?” She said, walking over to Erin and slightly shaking her head. “No, just give it a few more minutes.”

“I wanna get out of this thing.” Erin teared up, struggling to get out of her chair. With how tight the dress was, she started to waddle towards the stairs.

Y/n was hot on her sister’s heels, which wasn’t hard because moving was so difficult for her in that tight dress. “Erin, please. Just-” The doorbell rang, and Y/n let out a breath of relief. She scooted past Erin and went to the door. “See! I told you! Now, I know you were hoping for John-Paul, but I think-... James?”

Y/n was stunned to silence. James was standing right in front of her, dressed up as the Fourth Doctor from Doctor Who, smiling right at her. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“David?” Erin waddled over to the door, and that’s when Y/n finally noticed her friend David Donnelly standing next to James, dressed in a suit with no tie.

“Erin.” He replied with a nod.

The two girls looked at each other, confused. “What’s he doing here?” They asked in unison, pointing to the boy that was in front of them, who both laughed at their reactions.

“I called David for you because I knew John-Paul stood you up.”

“I called James for you because I knew you wanted to go to the prom with him.”

Y/n looked up at her boyfriend. “Wait, what about your creep convention?”

She laughed when he rolled his eyes. “It’s not a creep convention, and you know that. And it’s not important. I just…” James sighed, toying with his long, colorful scarf. “I knew the prom meant a lot to you, and Erin calling me just gave me the push I needed. Besides, I didn’t want to miss a chance to dance with my girl.”

“Ach, Jamie.” Y/n sighed endearingly, cupping his face. She gave him a soft, long kiss that he eagerly returned.

Erin and David had their own little conversation, trying not to look at the couple that were sucking face. “I’m surprised you’re here. I haven’t seen you since… Well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” David laughed a little, thinking back to that night. Then he shrugged. “But Y/n called tellin’ me your date stood you up and… I dunno, you’re kinda cool to talk to and whatever.”

“I am?” Erin asked excitedly.

“I said ‘kinda’.”

“Wait.” Y/n finally pulled away from James, looking down at her attire. “What am I gonna wear?”

“I’ll take you wearing this,” James said, seemingly serious as he looked at his girlfriend’s ripped jeans and oversized sweater that she had stolen from Granda Joe’s closet. The three other teens gave him unimpressed looks. “What? So what if it’s not a formal dress, she still looks nice.”

“I have something better.” Everyone jumped in surprise as Mary poked her head in. “Come over here. I’ve got somethin’ to show you.”

Y/n pulled Erin to their mother, giving the boys a final glance over her shoulder. “Go ahead and talk, we won’t be long.”

Mary led her daughters to the kitchen, where two big boxes they’d never seen before sat on the table. Mary gestured for the girls to open them, which they did.

“Oh my God, Mammy.” Y/n pulled out a pink dress with layers, ruffles, and small arm straps. Erin held a similar styled dress but in blue. “Where on earth did you get these?”

“They were my mother’s,” Mary answered, looking at the dresses fondly. “Your Granda said to bring them out, in case you changed your mind about the dance. Heard it was fifties themed and all that.”

Both of Mary’s daughters now had tears in their eyes, but they were not from sadness. The girls rounded the table to hug their mum tightly.

“You know, the dress is nice and all but-” Erin cut herself off with a sniffle. “I think I wanna match with Orla.”

“Well, one of you better be wearing my Mammy’s dress,” Mary said, deadly serious with only a tiny hint of amusement in her voice. “I didn’t dig these boxes up for nothing.”

“I’ll wear it.” Y/n laughed, grabbing the box with the pink dress. “Come on, Erin, let’s go change.”

***

“You look lovely.” This was the fifth time James had said this to Y/n in the past thirty minutes. But he meant it every time he said it.

And Y/n knew he did because he couldn’t stop staring at her. “Thank you, Jamie. You look just as handsome.” The couple walked to the school doors arm in arm, Erin and David a few steps behind them. “Although…” James opened the door and looked at his girlfriend curiously. “Are you sure you didn’t want to leave the scarf at home?”

“I think it completes the look,” James said with a bit of humor, toying with the piece of clothing. “But if you want, I can leave it in the car.”

“Nah.” Y/n shook her head, giving James a peck on the lips. “How else am I gonna pull you to the dancefloor?”

The two couples went into the decorated gym, quickly spotting two of their friends. Clare was talking frantically to Michelle, who honestly looked like she couldn’t care less.

“Look, there’s a guy here; he knows Mae-” The four heard Clare say before Michelle cut her off, looking over the blonde’s shoulder to see them.

“What’s going on?” Clare turned around, a bit spooked by the sudden appearance of her friends. Michelle grimaced at Y/n and James standing together arm in arm, but opted to comment on Erin’s new date instead. “Oh, don’t tell me. Wank-features stood you up.”

“Yeah.” Erin shrugged it off like she hadn’t cried over John-Paul standing her up about an hour before. She nudged her sister. “But Y/n called David Donnelly here, so I wouldn’t go alone.”

“What can I say? I’m a sweetheart.” Y/n smiled.

Clare put a hand on Erin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Erin. About John-Paul, I mean.”

“No, I’m sorry. You were right; I was jealous. Mae’s just so cool and exotic, and you liked her so much-”

“She’s deranged!” Clare blurted out with wide eyes, taking everyone aback.

“What?”

“Who’s Mae?” David leaned back to ask Y/n and James, who said they’d explain later. He tsked, tapping Erin’s shoulder. “I’m gonna get a drink.”

“Get me some punch.” She said before turning back to Clare. “What d’you mean, Clare? You were crazy about her yesterday.”

“She’s the one who’s crazy, Erin!” Clare squealed. “I met this guy that went to her school. He said she had to leave for, like, being a bully. He said she’s seriously unhinged! I think he’s a bit pissed off with her, to be honest, and I can’t blame him, ’cause she’s given the Chinese population of Donegal a really bad rap.” Clare’s friends would always be surprised over how much she could say without taking breaks for breath.

Michelle rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Typical Donegal man. Always moanin’.”

“There she is.” Everyone looked to where James was pointing. Sure enough, Mae was on the other side of the large room, going backstage.

“What’s she doing?” Michelle wondered, and everyone started walking closer to the stage to try and get a better look.

“She was talking about how she wasn’t going to let Jenny get away with the whole Prom Queen thing,” Clare answered.

James gasped. “Jesus Christ, look. Above the stage, look!” He pointed again, and everyone followed his finger to the tin buckets rigged with rope above the stage.

“Is she doing what I think she’s doin’?” Y/n asked.

“I think she’s gonna do a Carrie.” The couple looked both concerned and impressed, now both very glad they decided to come to prom.

“Fuck-a-doodle-do!”

“What’s a Carrie?” Clare asked frantically. “What does that mean?”

“You’ve never seen Carrie?”

“No.” Everyone said something about what a good film it was, but Clare wasn’t looking for film critiques. “Expand and explain! EXPAND. AND. EXPLAIN!”

“So, Carrie is voted Prom Queen, and this bully pours a bucket of pig’s blood on her.” James quickly explained.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Well, a lot of other stuff happens. But, you know, that’s the relevant bit.” Y/n said, but before she could go more into the movie, the band on stage finished playing.

Aisling stepped up to the microphone, some feedback echoing through the gym.

“Can I have your attention, please?” She said with a smile. The girls looked terrified. “And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for. It’s time to crown our Prom Queen.” Mae waited for Aisling to announce the name everyone knew would be said. She held the rope tightly, waiting for the moment she could finally release it. “And now… our Prom Queen is… Jenny Joyce!”

The girl looked completely surprised, and the girls wondered, against their better judgment, if they could just let this all play out.

“We have to do something!” Clare yelled over the celebratory music as Jenny went up on stage.

While Jenny started to give a small acceptance speech, everyone started running. Except for Orla and Granda Joe, who were more than content with eating popcorn and watching the scene. David joined them, holding two cups of punch and wondering why his date was rushing the stage.

Michelle and James joined Erin to try and get Jenny off the stage, while Y/n went with Clare to stop Mae. It was a struggle, but it didn’t help as much as the girls thought it would. The only good thing was that Mae wasn’t crazy enough to use pig’s blood and instead soaked everyone on stage with tomato juice.

Erin tried to tell Jenny that her friends weren’t to blame, but Jenny, of course, didn’t believe her. The two girls started fighting, soon being joined by Michelle and Aisling. James just stood back and watched, not really wanting to intervene, and Y/n would’ve laughed if she wasn’t caught up in trying to break Clare and Mae apart. The rest of the audience seemed to enjoy the spectacle, laughing and having refreshments as it all played out.

***

It was a good thing David had towels in the boot of his car. Erin and James were covered and sticky with tomato juice, no matter how hard they tried to get it off them. Y/n was eternally grateful that she decided to go with Clare to stop Mae, sparing her grandmother’s dress. She didn’t think Joe would be too happy about it being covered in red, no matter how amused he was by tonight’s events.

“Jesus, the street’s packed.” David grimaced as he turned onto the sisters’ street. It was crowded with all their neighbors, whooping and partying for an unknown reason that they would surely hear about tonight or early tomorrow.

Y/n sighed, poking her head out the window. “I dunno if I wanna go home.” She settled back in her seat and looked at her boyfriend. “Wanna go to your place?”

“Sure.” He answered.

“Want me to drive you there?” David asked, but James shook his head.

“No, mate, it’s fine. I’m only a street over.”

“Yeah, take Erin home for me.” The Donnelly boy seemed to miss the sly wink Y/n gave her sister in the rearview mirror.

After some goodbyes and teasing comments, Y/n and James got out of the car and started walking down the street, weaving through all the people out and about. Surprisingly, Michelle and her parents weren’t home when the two arrived. Michelle must have still been panicking over how she was going to return her tomato-soddened dress, and James’ aunt and uncle were either at work or celebrating whatever was going on with their friends.

With the house empty, Y/n and James unwinded and relaxed. James took a much-needed shower, putting his clothes in a plastic bag so they wouldn’t stain anything else. Meanwhile, Y/n shimmied out of her dress and put on some of James’ pajamas.

“So, what do you wanna do?” James asked as he entered his room, a towel wrapped around his waist. Y/n was a little surprised by his boldness, remembering how shy he was some months ago when he didn’t have any clothes at her house and had to stand in his boxers while Y/n grabbed him a sweater.

“Maybe a movie?” Y/n suggested, watching James rifle through his dresser. She was filled with a sudden feeling of not wanting him to put on the clothes he was grabbing. “Carrie would be pretty fitting.”

They laughed, James shaking his head as he slipped his boxers on. “Oh, I don’t know.” He tore the towel off and sat down next to his girlfriend, pulling a shirt over his head. “I think there’s been enough blood, or blood adjacent, covered people tonight.”

Y/n laid back, humming in thought. “Well, there is… another thing... we could do.”

James looked down at Y/n, waiting for her to elaborate. She reached up his back, lightly tugging on his shirt until he laid down beside her. Y/n hooked a leg over James’ waist and brushed some wet curls away from his forehead. As her other hand slowly traveled down his chest, he started to get what she was hinting at.

“Only if you want to, obviously.”

James pushed Y/n off of him only to hover over her, kissing her deeply. He helped her shimmy up his bed until her head was resting on a pillow. Feeling brave, but mainly horny, James pulled away and took off his shirt before slipping his hand under Y/n’s.

“Are you sure?” James asked, slightly panting from how escalated the moment was getting.

“Yeah,” Y/n responded, taking a deep breath before pushing James away so she could take her own shirt off. James stared at her in amazement. Before she could tease him for his reaction, he gripped her bare waist and pulled her against him, kissing her with hunger.

The prom sure was exciting. But sometimes, what happened after was much more eventful.

~~~

The Fella Taglist: @mistahjsfunnygirl @etherealdisneyvillainness @crystalsoobin-m @raggedyoldwitch @rosetintworld @regretthatsme @neenieweenie @allexiiisss @drmeghanjones @eli-com @anything-for-our-moony-toast @ilovespideyyy @eddisaurus @imagines--galore @emma-is-a-nerd @sir1usblacksgf @kaz-2y567 @spidercrush3 @miilkshakess @underthebatcape @dear-jamespotter @brithedemonspawn @acupnoodle @nevillescomslut @hantivity @slaymybreathaway @mystic-writings @thegirlwithoutaname87 @mystic-mara @st4rryhae @ljaneyx @justlibra @siriuslyinlovewithsiriusblack @elauranicolee @in-my-hoe-era @grippleback-galaxy @greensunflowerjuna @sarcasm-and-stiles @callsignwidow @qtkat @asterizee @cursedandromedablack @athenalive

#agaypanic #the fella #james maguire x reader #james maguire #derry girls x reader #derry girls #erin quinn #orla mccool #michelle mallon #clare devlin

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eisukevint · 10 months ago

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gojo satoru x muslim!reader ramadan hcs ✧

lil promt so you all dont come for me: he reverted a year ago and its his first ramadan as a muslim and your husband

a/n: ramadan mubarak !! 9 days of ramadan have passed already dang, time’s passing so quickly. this ramadan has been a little less hard, probably because its not hot ?? anyways, i hope the rest of this holy month may be full of blessings for everyone <3

also, not the first time ive written for jjk but you all dont know that since ive never posted so first jjk work??

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

• he’s so excited like actually, its his first ramadan with you and he wants to make the most of it. he decorates the house with fairy lights and ramadan decorations saying he saw online how people do this stuff when ramadan starts.

• says he’ll stay up until sehri with you but you both end up falling asleep while you were telling him funny stories about your family and you during ramadan. always sneaks sweets during sehri saying he needs that extra sugar to work him through the day.

• drinks an entire gallon of water 2 minutes before sehri ends ‘just making sure i’m not thirsty during the day’ he says as he almost chokes on all that water he’s consuming.

• he feels the burn, like my man is struggling but he’s trying his very best. the first few days are the hardest for him as he’s not used to fasting so if his stomach rumbles he justs tells it to shut up. checks time every five minutes to see if its time for iftar yet.

• whenever you’re reciting Quran, he sits near you and listens attentively. he adores it when you recite it out loud, it always calms him.

• punctual with his prayers, period. makes wudhu before every prayer but when he finds out its not obligatory, he definitely tries to keep his wudhu until isha prayer and as soon as he’s done, he makes a dash for the toilet.

• if any of his students ask why he’s fasting, he’d give an elaborate explanation of what ramadan actually is and why its so important for muslims. theyre so fascinated by the concept that they try fasting with you both for a day.

• he always helps you with iftar, no matter how busy or tired he is. helps you clean up after and you both take turns to do the dishes everyday

• if you say youre gonna pray 20 rakaat for taraweeh, he’ll definitely do the same like he’s committed and actually does it until you see him limping out of the masjid.

• wore his nike air force to masjid once and got them stolen. he was baffled like ??? why would someone steal slippers of all things?

• he thinks jam e shireen vs rooh afza debate is pointless. when he tasted both of them, he decided he’s a jam e shireen person through and through. he’d fight with anyone over this

• tries to not hover all over you during the day when youre fasting but after iftar, he loves cuddling with you <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

its kinda short but my brain’s not keeping up with all the bio chemistry ive been doing so this is it for now :> i might make eid headcanons

#gojo satoru #gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #ramadan #headcanon #jjk #jjk x reader #muslim reader #this is 3 am torture #jjk gojo

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jobrolion · 3 months ago

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𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔

mista x gn!reader

summary | you first met mista when he came to the bakery you worked at, and almost every monday after he would entertain you while you were on the clock.

notes | fluff and some kissing, reader is referenced to be inexperienced

wc | 1819

****

Mista came to the bakery you worked at almost every Monday after his first visit a year ago. And he always ordered the same thing. A cappuccino and a cornetto pastry with jam filling, the day he asked you out it was strawberry.

The door chimed and you locked eyes with him as he closed the door behind himself. He breathed in the air that smelled of flour and yeast, sugar and spices, and he tried to catch yours too, to no avail.

“Good morning, Mista. How are you?” It was always a genuine question and you always got a genuine answer. You were already getting his order together, moving to the side to make his drink.

“Much better now that I’m here. Slow morning?”

“A little, the rain is keeping people away. Not you, thankfully.” You smiled brightly at him, “The jam flavor today is strawberry, but you could always switch it up and get a custard or chocolate?”

“Nice try.” He tsked your name, sitting on the stool by the counter facing you. Nobody else was in the bakery so he could keep you to himself for the time being.

After sliding him his coffee and pastry, you leaned on the counter, sipping your drink as he started on his.

“Excuse me if I’m overstepping a boundary here, but where’d you get the bruise under your eye? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine now. Just one of the perks of being a mafioso.”

You paused, staring at him for a moment before letting out an undignified snort.

“Be serious, Mista.” You said between laughs. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s ok.”

“Gotta keep the mystery.”

“I guess so.” For as long as he’d been coming in he’d been enigmatic, this was part of the appeal.

For an hour you both talked, never a lull in conversation, before the rain stopped and customers started pouring in.

“Until we meet again.” He bowed with an exaggerated wink.

“See you, Mista.” You curtsied in return, waving him off.

When you got off of work you went straight into your errands. Your day off was tomorrow and you wanted it to be strictly for leisure.

After visiting the post office you took your time at the grocery store. As your job you baked pastries and breads, but your true passion lies with cooking. So you browsed ingredients and brainstormed new recipes to experiment with.

You had your eye on the freshly made pasta and the display of mushrooms. They were practically begging to be taken home. A cream based sauce would do nicely with them and the herbs you grew in your garden and the spices you kept in your cabinet.

You made conversation with the cashier as they rang you out. You left for your car once they were done and what you owed was paid.

Before you could start the ignition you saw a shadow and heard a knock on your window. Clear as day, Guido Mista was there outside your car, waiting with a grin. You exited your car and matched his enthusiasm.

“Small world, huh?”

Mista laughed, a little nervously and stared for a moment before…

“I just uh- I have something to ask you. It’s been slowly eating away at me, but I’ve never been able to ask you because it feels wrong to while you’re working and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. And I will never show up to the bakery ever again if you ask me to so don’t hesitate to tell me off or-”

“What are you trying to get at?” Patience is a virtue, but the man in front of you was struggling.

“Would you want to maybe get dinner with me sometime?” He was actually wringing his fingers. This man would shamelessly flirt with you every time he came into your work and here he was sweating over asking you out.

“Like a date?”

“Exactly like a date.”

“I’d really like that, Mista. Are you free tomorrow night?”

It was a date. He chose the location and picked you up at 7 the next day. But before that, you fretted over what to wear and how you were going to act. This was not going to be the same as all those Monday mornings he’d spend at your bakery. You tried to calm down, it’s just Mista, the funny, flirty guy who entertains you while you’re on the clock. But it’s also Mista, the man you’d been crushing on for over half a year now who made your cheeks hot to the touch and your heart flutter.

When he picked you up, he knocked on your door, a single rose in his hand and a blush across his cheeks. You smiled as he gave it to you.

“Watch there's a thorn right there.”

You looked and sure enough there was a thorn where you were about to place your hand. “Where did you get this, Mista?”

“That’s top secret.”

“I’m flattered that you’d steal a rose for me, touching really.”

His cheeks flushed a darker shade of red and stayed that way as he took your hand.

“Where are you taking me?”

“The Libeccio. It’s a favorite of mine. The food is to die for.”

“I pass it on my way to work, I’m excited to try it!”

When you arrived, you were seated in a candle lit corner by a darkened window. It was obvious to you that this was planned and that warmed your heart.

After you ordered you noticed a group of young men who kept glancing over and looking away quickly, talking hushedly amongst themselves.

“Mista, don’t look now, but those guys over there keep looking at us.”

He did look, and immediately a panic washed over his face.

“What’s wrong? Do you know them?”

“Ah so this is embarrassing. They’re my friends.” He simplified it. “They kind of didn’t believe that you said yes. I didn’t think they’d actually show up. I’m really sorry.”

“Some friends, huh?”

Mista laughed nervously, “Yeah, something like that.”

Truth was, the rest of Bucciarati’s team knew of his infatuation with you, but not only did they doubt the date, but they also doubted your existence. So apparently, they had taken it upon themselves to settle the matter by spying on Mista.

“Should we ignore them?”

A sharp nod was your answer, so the two of you averted your eyes for the rest of the meal. He did assure you later that they meant well and were excited for him, despite them not believing him fully.

The date went as well as it could have, disregarding that minor incident. And before you knew it, you were already back on your doorstep.

“I’m glad you asked me out, Mista. I was too afraid to.” You confessed.

“Really? What about me is so frightening?” He looked over himself, faux concern painting his features which made you laugh, making him drop the act, smiling.

Mista then took your hand in his and leaned in, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. As he pulled away, you guided his face towards yours and kissed his lips. You swore you short circuited, having never felt a spark like this with anyone before. After a moment, you hesitantly pulled away.

“Will I see you Monday?” You said breathlessly.

“Without a doubt.”

Two more Monday’s came and went before Mista asked you for a second date. This time you were on your feet all day, exploring the city, stopping occasionally for a break, once at a cafe and once at a fountain, and many times to steal kisses from each other. You wished you could fit more hours in a day, never would you want this one to end.

After dinner at a hole in the wall restaurant Mista asked if you wanted to come back to his place for a while.

You were hesitant. Before him you had barely ever kissed anybody, and you had never gone back to anyone's house for anything, ever.

But you trusted Mista and you wanted to spend more time with him, so you said yes.

His apartment was small and simple, a stark contrast to his personality, but it somehow suited him. It was comfortable with ambient lighting and a neutral color pallet. He offered you a glass of water which you accepted. Standing by his kitchen counter you smiled, thanking him for the time you spent together.

“I should be the one thanking you, I haven't had a day this nice in too long ”

Eventually you both migrated to his couch, sitting closer than you really had to. After a few more short remarks about the day, he leaned in, pressing a short kiss to your cheek.

“Kiss me here, Mista.” You pointed to your lips, eyes piercing his.

He complied, kissing you fully and passionately, hands finding their way to your face, holding you sweetly.

It could have been a minute or an hour that you sat there worshiping each other's lips. But then he placed a hand on your waist and a groan escaped him, taking you by surprise, you pulled back.

“Shit, my bad. I don't want to cross any lines here.”

“It's ok.” You laughed nervously. “It’s just that I’ve never gone any further than this with anyone. I don’t know if I want that tonight.”

“Then we take this at your pace, alright?” Your heart filled with adoration, all anxieties washing away with a single sentence.

“Is more of this ok?”

“Take the lead.”

After a while, you startled when you noticed the time. You hated to go, but you had to open the bakery the next day.

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“You'll see me sooner.”

Mista drove you home. Even after this, it was like nothing changed. You could still talk endlessly and being with him just felt natural. A year of Mondays brought the two of you closer week by week until now when you swore you were already in love.

He kissed you at your doorstep and watched as you closed the door behind you. And when he was sure you couldn’t see him he pumped his fist in the air and headed back to his car. But you did see him and now you were certain you were in love.

As you opened the bakery early the next morning you lamented another rainy day. The gray sky a sharp contrast to your sunny disposition. A dreary middle of the week Wednesday promised little to no customers which meant you got to spend the day alone.

When you finished your opening tasks, you sat with a drink and waited. Fixing the displays and cleaning could only keep you occupied for so long.

As you took the last sip, the door chimed and you turned your head to see Mista greeting you with a wave and a smile.

****

title reference

from the morning - nick drake

#mista x reader #guido mista x reader #jjba x reader #jojo x reader

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babygirlmurdock · 1 year ago

Text

Unexpected Connection

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your friend convinces you to go to a singles event only for you to meet Hell’s Kitchen infamous lawyer.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: mild swearing, alcohol

a/n: heyyy lol so this is my First piece of fiction. i’m trying to get better at writing fiction and this actually came to me when something like this was actually brought up to me recently lol so i thought hey why not try to write something about it?

——————————————————————————

You’ve been single for quite some time now. Your last breakup was nasty, left your heart shredded; you weren’t too sure when you’d be truly ready to date again. Your friends have been helpful, pushing you to get out there and meet new people. Get your mind off your ex, y’know?

Swipe after swipe. Messages that are painfully one sided. Or men that just want to hook up or want something casual.

“Ooh, I just got this advertised to me on Instagram,” Jill says to you. Jill is a coworker turned friend. You perk up from your desk to see what she was talking about, “a meet and mingle this Saturday at the Refinary rooftop. We should definitely go!”

“Ugh, I just don’t know Jill. All men have done is just disappoint me and nothing has compared to Jam— ”,

“James. I know. But maybe the guy that is way better than James will be there. Your soulmate could be here and you would never know! C’mon it’ll be fun, I think. Plus meeting people in person is way better than on the apps,” she leans up against your desk. You worked as an editor at the New York Bulletin. It was an internship turned full time position after you graduated college. You dreamed of New York one day, and it still feels surreal that this is your reality.

You are sure your friends were tired of you sulking about James. It’s been well over 6 months and he’s probably already moved on while you’re stuck in this trench of dating.

“Okay. Fine. I hope there’s good drinks because Lord knows I’ll need that liquid confidence.” You scrubbed your face.

Jill squeals, “I’m so excited!! It starts at 7.”

——————————————————————————-

“Matt! It would be so fun, talking to beautiful women all night and who knows, maybe take one home!” Foggy hints to Matt about this meet and mingle.

“I’m really not in the cards to be dating right now, Foggy,” Matt says, shuffling through some papers. The mid-afternoon sun beamed through Matt’s office as Foggy stood in his doorway. Matt was trying to get through the last of this litigation before the end of the week and Foggy was not making this easier.

“This might be the opportunity that you meet someone who is actually normal! Not some psycho chick that almost got your ass expelled back in law school. That’s how long it’s been, Matt! Do you know how long ago law school was?” Matt lets out a small laugh at Foggy.

“Yes, Foggy. I was there, I know how long ago it was.”

He never understood why Foggy was so adamant on him meeting someone. Now that the firm is getting some business and he’s gone out more times than he can count as Daredevil, he just doesn’t have the time to commit.

“I’ll go only for an hour,” Matt sighs and Foggy lets out a cheer.

“You’re not gonna regret this, Murdock!”

————————————————————————

Saturday night rolls around. You and Jill are about to head to the singles event.

“I hope I meet someone rich,” Jill says, applying her lipstick. “I just don’t want to work again, y’know?”

“Tell me about it. I just hope nobody is too much of an asshole. I don’t know if I can take another person mansplaining what investing is and why I should do it,” You shouted from the bathroom, spraying some hairspray in your hair. You came out of the bathroom wearing jeans and a plain black t-shirt.

“Whoa girl, what are you wearing? You can’t wear that!” Jill said from your living room.

You eye yourself in the mirror, “what is so wrong with jeans and a t-shirt?”

Jill says your name sternly, “everything? You might meet the love of your life! Show some more!”

“You’re ridiculous. You’re lucky I’m going to this in the first place! Would it make you happier if I changed my top?” You say, taking off your shirt to dig for something she deems more appropriate.

“Atta girl, show the goodies,” Jill says, shimmying her chest. “Uber is downstairs, let’s get going.”

——————————————————————————

You arrive at the venue and make your way upstairs to the roof. It was decorated with greenery and twinkle lights. The place was lit just enough to make it romantic but not where you couldn’t see anyone. Not even 15 minutes into the event, you lose Jill in the crowd already talking to people. You make your way to the bar to order yourself a drink.

“Dirty martini, gin, please. Thanks,” you stand at the bar while you wait for your drink and hear a smooth voice next to you.

“Whiskey, neat, please. Thank you,” you peer over and your eyes meet a beautiful man wearing red glasses. You take a moment to read him a little bit. Gorgeous side profile. Your eyes make their way down to his hands, and meet with a cane. Blind?

“Dirty martini & a whiskey neat.”

“Thank you,” you both say in unison. “I suppose we should cheers?” The man says to you.

“Oh, uh sure, cheers,” You clink your glass against his and a smile breaks out on his face as the glass meets his lips. God damn, this guy looks like the next coming of Christ. He was so unreal looking. He had the jaw sculpted by God himself, decorated with just the right amount of stubble, and his lips. They were so pink and full. The thoughts of kissing him already danced in your head. The faint smell of his cologne twirled around in your nostrils.

“So let me guess,” you take a sip from your drink, “your friend basically dragged you here too against your will even though you told them you were over dating?”

“Wow,” his eyebrows perked up as he took another sip, “how did you guess?” he says, sarcastically.

“Well, considering you look like that,” your hand vaguely gestured to his body, “and women aren’t at your beck and call, I had to assume.”

“Look like what? Oh God, did I forget to put on my pants? You’d tell me that I’m pant less right?” He says frantically, trying to hide his laughter.

“Ha ha, very funny. But was I right?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not too far off. It’s hard to do modern dating when everything is on dating apps and eyesight helps that. Phones can only be so accessible. I’m Matt by the way, Matt Murdock.” He sticks his hand out for you to grab. You give him your name as you shake his hand. You notice some bruising on the knuckles and wonder what that could be about.

“Wait like, the lawyer?”

Matt sheepishly nodded in agreement, “that would be me.”

“Where were you when I told a cop to fuck off because I didn’t like how he was speaking to my friend?” You take a big swig of your martini hoping the alcohol would hit you sooner rather than later.

“My law partner must’ve missed the call from the woman brave enough to tell a cop to fuck off,” Matt smirks at you. Butterflies erupt inside you and your heart beat jumps.

————————————————————————

As the night goes on, and after a couple more drinks, conversation between you and Matt flows effortlessly. You two made your way over to a couch to sit and talk. The crowd ebbed and flowed throughout the night. People left, more people showed up, but it never got too crowded. It honestly felt like you and Matt were alone, like the world stood still.

“So you mean to tell me he took your furniture outside?” You laugh at the thought of his college roommate moving all of Matt’s furniture outside.

“Yeah, it was kind of rude of him to do that to a blind guy. He thought it was hilarious though,” Matt smiles at you.

“You guys seemed wild in law school. I bet campus police weren't too thrilled with your shenanigans,” you rest your chin on your hand as you lean a bit closer to Matt.

“Foggy actually got into some trouble with them because he was breaking the school's disability rules. Nothing too major, he just had to volunteer as a part of campus police to pay his dues.”

You laugh at Matt, and briefly look around and notice you and Matt seemed to be two of the other five couples that are still there.

“So, I have a question for you…” you trail off, debating on asking this question.

“No, I haven’t been blind my whole life,” Matt states.

“How did you know I was going to ask that?” your voice has an edge of surprise to it.

“It came in the pamphlet when I lost my vision. Don’t worry about it though, it doesn’t bother me when people ask,” Matt reassures you. “It’s been 20 years at this point.”

“Oh wow, so you had to adapt and relearn the world without your eyes. That’s insane, it must have been tough for you,” you rest your hand on Matt’s bicep. What business does he have to have this much of a defined arm?

“It took some adjusting but my other senses were…” Matt stops mid sentence before realizing what he was about to say.

“What? Like sensitive? I’m sure your other senses had to compensate now that your eyes were out of commission.”

“Yeah, you can say sensitive in a way,” Matt sighs. Silence falls between you both. You fiddle with your glass for a moment until he speaks up, “what do you say we get out of here?”

“Oh, um,” you look around in hopes of finding your friend because you’re still nervous about potentially going home with somebody new. No matter how gorgeous the man is. “I–“ you stammer.

“I don’t want to give the wrong intentions. What I mean is maybe go to another bar. There’s a place two blocks over that we can go to. If you’re up for it,” Matt gave you a small smile of reassurance.

You think for a moment, staring at his face while your heart feels like it’s going to leap out of your body. What the hell, why not? “Sure, I’d like that,” you smile and get up. You let Matt grab onto your forearm for guidance as you walk to the bar to close out. After he graciously also paid for your tab, you walked with him to the elevator.

“What’s this place called? How do I know you’re not going to murder me? You are still a stranger by the way,” you ramble on. Matt laughs at your nervousness.

“It’s called Josie’s. I’ve been going here since I was in law school. And if I were going to murder you, I would have done it already,” Matt leans into you playfully.

“Ah yeah that makes me feel so much better, thank you, Matt,” you joke.

—————————————————————————

The walk to Josie’s is mostly silent, but not awkward. You feel at ease around Matt. His energy is soothing, it feels like you’ve known him for ages. He asked about your upbringing, what brought you to New York. Your typical “getting to know someone” questions.

As you approach the bar, your nerves dissipate as you recognize this is a dive bar. “You seem less tense,” Matt said to you, his hand lightly placed on the pulse point of your wrist.

“Yeah, I love a good dive bar. It’s charming in a way,” you breathe out, leading the way into the bar. You find a seat at the bar for you and Matt to sit. You look around the bar, and notice the pool table in the back. There were old beer signs all over the walls. The lighting was dim and moody. Classic rock was playing over the speakers. Matt must’ve waved down a bartender while you were distracted because two beers are placed in front of you as you sat down next to him.

“I love how you assumed I liked beer,” you tease, taking a sip from your bottle.

“I can order something else if you’d like me to,” Matt's voice breaks a bit.

“I like beer, don’t worry,” you reassured him, “so what are the odds a blind man knows how to play pool?”

“I’ve played. I can’t promise I’ll be any good.”

Your drinks start to hit you more as you speak, “Do you want to make a bet?”

“Betting against a blind man? Low blow,” Matt sucks his teeth teasing you a bit. You giggle, “Fair point, Matthew. Fair point. C’mon, do you need guidance to the table?”

“No thank you, I know this place like it’s my own home,” Matt smiled at you as you both made your way over to the pool table.

You rack up the balls and Matt grabs some cues. “Do you want to break the triangle?” Matt asks.

“Sure, why not,” You bend over, lining up the cue ball with the tip of the triangle. Your heartbeat quickens as you feel Matt’s gaze upon you. You know, for someone who is blind, you sure can feel like his eyes were all over your body. The loud crack of the ball break snaps you out of your train of thought. “Do you, um, do you need help lining up the cue?”

“Actually yes, that’d be helpful.”

You make your way to Matt’s side, telling him solids were his and what balls were lined up with which ones. To your shock, he nails two solids into the sink holes. “I’ll be damned. Blind man is good at pool.”

Matt’s voice is low and husky when he says, “there’s a lot of secrets about me,” which gives you full body chills.

“Well, okay then, I—” you stammer trying to collect your tipsy self. You take your shot and, “God damn it, missed. You’re not hustling me, are you? You said you weren’t good!” you protest.

“Ehh, lucky shot, I guess,” Matt laughs, taking a swig of his beer.

The round of pool goes at a good pace, flirty innuendos fly off the walls. At this point, Matt’s jacket is off and the sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up showing his forearms. Every passing hour, you feel more and more attracted to him. And you only hope he feels the same.

“Alright, 8 ball is up. Absolutely no fucking way I’m about to lose a game of pool to a guy who can’t see,” you said competitively.

“Well to be fair, you have been helping me line the cues up, you could’ve hustled me and lined up with your balls.” He suggests with a shrug.

“God damn it, you’re so right. Holy shit why didn’t I think of that?!” You line the cue up to the ball and take your shot...and miss. You let out a gasp as you just lost this game of pool.

“That didn’t sound like a good gasp,” Matt teased.

“You’d be correct. Good game, Matt.”

“Good game,” he said your name back to you.

You looked at your watch and realized it was almost midnight. “It’s getting late, I think we should head out. That sound okay to you?” you say, even though you secretly don’t want this night to end.

“Yeah, do you want me to walk you home?” Matt asks you, with a shy smile secretly hoping you’d say yes.

“That’d be really lovely, thank you. I’m just 5 blocks up actually.”

————————————————————————

“Alright, this is me,” you halt in front of your building’s entrance.

“Are you sure it’s not up one more block?” He flashes you a cheeky smile.

“Unfortunately, it is not. I had a really good time tonight, Matt,” you step closer to him, inches away from his body.

“I had a really nice time tonight, too,” Matt’s voice just above a whisper. God, that register in his voice practically made you fall to your knees.

You and Matt are still standing dangerously close to each other as both of your body’s heats mingled together, practically begging for some physical touch. “I should, uh, get upstairs. Goodnight, Matt.” As you are about to turn away, Matt pulls you in closer as your chests nearly touch. Lips hovering over one another as your breath intertwines with his. Your brain is barely forming coherent thoughts, until you whisper, “I think this is the part where you kiss me.”

“I was waiting for the words,” Matt’s hand snakes up to gently rest on your jawbone as he tilts your head up. His lips meet yours with the tenderness and sweetness that you crave so desperately. He pulls away and you both sigh. “That was—”

“Really nice. You’re an excellent kisser by the way,” you let your inside thoughts exist on the outside now. “That was meant to stay inside my brain, oh my god….” You buried your face in your hands as you pulled away from his embrace.

Matt laughs, “I appreciate the compliment, thank you.”

“Let’s do this again, next week? You owe me a rematch in pool.”

“Next week sounds fantastic. If the pool game went anything like it did tonight, it won’t be much of a rematch,” Matt banters with you. You gasp at his remark which makes him laugh. “I’ll call you sometime this week to set something up, okay?”

“Do you mind if I put my number in your phone? I figure that’d be easiest maybe,” You suggest.

“Oh yeah, that’d be great,” Matt said pulling out his phone. You grabbed it and put your name and number in there and handed it back to him.

“Okay,” you smile at him, “I’ll be anticipating your call.”

“Goodnight,” Matt whispers your name, dripping from his lips like honey. You kiss his cheek and head upstairs. As you close the door, you squeal in excitement.

Matt stood outside your building for a moment, listening to it shut to ensure you made it in okay. As he was about to step away, he heard you squeal to yourself in excitement, which made him laugh to himself.

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fic #no use of y/n

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