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[bratano]

omg i havent been on here in so long... thinking of writing some cillian / miguel o'hara fics lol

[bratano]

You Wear Me Out - (Brian Wilcox x Gn! Reader)

description: a fic very loosely! based on im not okay by my chemical romance in which, reader often seeks out their best friend brian's help regarding their failing relationship with their boyfriend, but never seems to listen. and brian gets frustrated that reader won't break up with their boyfriend for more reasons than just them not being treated right.

content: lots of angsty teen stuff. vague reference to leaked intimate photos. best friends to "enemies" (using that word loosely) to lovers, angst, cheating, comfort, first kiss, fluff!!! (happy ending)

word count: 3285

"I just don't understand why you have such an interest in us breaking up!" You snapped, staring at your best friend's expressionless face as he sits on the edge of your bed. Suddenly, that changed, his eyebrows furrowed, and he grimaced, shaking his head.

"Why?" He retorted with equal force to you, throwing up his arms in disbeleif, "Because he fucking treats you like shit!"

"Not like shit, Brian. You're being overdramatic." You cross your arms over your chest defensively.

"Like SHIT y/n, I'm not having this argument with you again." He runs a hand through his greasy black hair, the strands lifting up from their spot thrown over his forehead as they fall through his fingers. "You know y/n, you claim to have all these fucking problems, but you don't, everything wrong in your life would just be solved if you broke up with him, and I keep telling you this, and you never fucking listen, I have no advice left to give you, I'm sick of hearing about this, I'm worn out." He rants.

"Brian!" You scold in a weak, faint voice, tears welling up in your eyes. "Well, who's the one treating me like shit now?" You huff.

"Don't start with that," He gestures his pointer finger at you, shaking it up and down. "You told me you wanted my honest opinion, I'm being honest, it's not my fault you don't want to hear it."

"Well you tell me he treats me like shit but never tell me why all you say is to break up with him. I feel stuck, like I have no other options."

"Don't tell you why?- Because you do that for me. Every. Single. TIme you bitch to me." Brian sighs, frustration deep within his heavy breaths. "Come on y/n, don't be stupid, everyone's seen those pictures he took of you."

Your throat goes dry and you swallow viciously while sucking in a hard breath through your nose. Your face contorts with discontent, and your jaw clenches. For a moment you're suddenly transported back to the most humiliating weeks of your life. You can still feel the stares of your judgemental classmates burning into your body, with knowing eyes, aware of parts of you that they shouldn't have been. You can hear their whispers and giggles swarm around your head.

"That was fucking low, Brian." A tear rolls down your face which you quickly wipe away using the entire back of your hand. You shake your head, knitting your brows, "It was an accident-" You choke.

"You and I both know that's not true." Brain mutters.

"Why are you being so cruel." Your voice begins to crack as you can feel a sob coming on. Brian's reaction isn't exactly what you expected, most times you ranted about your boyfriend Brian was usually there to give you a hug, and to comfort you. Sure, he'd usually tell you to break up with your boyfriend, (in less friendly terms than that), but still, he'd at least always offer some sort of positivity.

Brian takes a deep inhale, "Because," then he exhales, "You wear me out."

"Do I?" You sneer, unsure of whether to be more sad or angry.

"Look, I don't mean to like make you upset, or let you down, or whatever," He speaks rapidly, shaking his head and screwing his eyes shut tight. "But I think it's better off you if you just hear the truth."

"But Brian," You sigh, "I can tell you're not telling the whole truth."

"That's on you." He crosses his arms, "I'm not arguing anymore, I have my own shit to worry about, I can't keep dealing with your problems. Try taking a good hard look at yourself sometime, and maybe you'll actually understand where I'm coming from."

You don't respond, only staring at Brian through misty eyes. As your breath falters, trying your best to hold back a full-on sob, you try took look for some semblance of warmth from Brian, just an ounce of comfort. Despite how upsetting Brian's words were, you knew that just the smallest amount of consolation would make you feel better, even if he just gave you a loose hug, that always worked, that always made you feel better, why couldn't he just do that?

"I gotta go," he huffs, "See you around."

You can't bear to look at him as he gets off his spot on your bed. You continue to say silent, your arms crossed around your chest, looking down at your legs. You can hear the sound of his footsteps walking out of the room, and the door closing on his way out, the shutting sound signaling you were now alone was an immediate trigger for the tears to come falling down your cheeks.

That's just it. You were alone.

The one person in your life that you could count on to make you feel better in times of need just walked right out the door without an ounce of hesitation. What were you to do now? Cry to your boyfriend about it? That would go over well. 'Hey babe, I really need someone right now, my best friend just stormed out of my room because he got frustrated about me always complaining about you.'

You sighed, throwing your head back on your pillow, your tears now running sideways down your face. The worst part is, you knew Brian was right. You had to break up with your boyfriend, and that would solve all of your problems. The two of you weren't in love, you weren't even sure that you had ever been. But with no boyfriend, how could you possibly deny your actual feelings for-

"Y/N! DINNER!" You heard your mother scream from the kitchen, cutting your thoughts off completely. Shit, you quickly wipe away the tears from your eyes, not in the mood to be questioned on why you were crying over dinner. You take a few deep breaths in and out, preparing yourself to act at least somewhat normal before heading out to eat dinner.

You walked into the kitchen and your mom greeted you with a confused look on her face,

"I thought Brian was staying for dinner."

-

It had been a few days since your argument with Brian, and you hadn't talked to him since. Truth be told, you weren't doing well, not at all. The last few days had been full of nothing but tension and tears for you. Every time he'd pass you by in the hallway you were ignored, he wouldn't even spare you a glance. He'd usually avert his eyes and turn to talking to Amber, or one of his other friends.

It hurt Like, really fucking hurt.

You couldn't stand the feeling it gave you every time he passed you by, the way your heart dropped, and your stomach flipped. You couldn't count the times you felt yourself nearly throw up in the last couple of days alone.

Not having Brian around was far worse than any heartbreak you ever experienced. It had only been a couple of days, and it wasn't like he loathed you or anything, but you'd almost felt like a part of you was missing without him around. It felt stupid to say, he was just some greasy teenager, but you never really realized how complete he made you feel.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, seemed happier than ever. Glad you finally ditched that "loser" Brian. He'd never really enjoyed having Brian around, and you usually had to fight to try to let him hang out with you whenever your boyfriend was around.

You sighed, placing your head in your hand as your arm rested on your desk. Your last period teacher was ranting and raving about something, you couldn't have been less interested. You picked up your heavy head and raised your arm way up.

"Yes y/n?" The teacher shot a look your way.

"Can I go to the bathroom?" You ask, desperate to get out of class.

"I'm in the middle of a lecture-"

"Okay, but I have to go to the bathroom."

"Fine. Go." She responded reluctantly before getting back onto her tangent.

You're relieved the teacher did not put up much of a fight, and begin to slip out of the classroom, into the dismal halls of the school building. You had no real destination, you didn't actually have to use the bathroom, only the desire to roam around aimlessly to try and clear your head. The poorly-lit, decaying classrooms filled with far too many people you didn't like tended to get pretty stuffy really quickly.

You tried to think of nothing else other than the sound of your footsteps as your beat-up old vans hit the dirty tile floor with every step you took. You let the quiet thudding sound sort of put you into a trance until you heard a voice around the corner.

"Oh forget them," You heard an all-too-familiar voice say, "They'll never know." It was your boyfriend. You stopped dead in your tracks, not really wanting to be seen by him and have any sort of interaction, but you were also very intrigued as to what he was talking about. You inched closer against the wall he was on the other side of, just around the bend. You were meer feet away but he had know knowledge of your presence.

"Are you sure?" You heard another voice say, a girl this time, you recognized the voice as a friend of your boyfriend's that had hung out with the two of you from time to time.

"Positive, they'll probably be home crying tonight or something, too emotional to even realize or even care where I am."

You felt your muscles stiffen at the sound of his words, certainly, he wasn't talking about you, was he?

"Don't be a dick." The girl giggled.

"I'm not baby, it's just the truth, they're such a downer. I need some fun in my life."

Baby? You listened onwards, feeling your blood begin to- not boil, but simmer. You were nearly certain he was talking about you, and why was he calling her baby?

In a surprising move of bravery you peered around the corner, hoping to god the two of them didn't see you. As you peeked just your head down the hall you could see them standing a decent distance away, the girl with her back pressed against a locker, and your boyfriend hovering over her.

Some fucking nerve he had. Doing this in public? Not even having the decency to break up before going after someone else?

You couldn't even find it in you to be sad right now, you bit down on the inside of your cheeks, surpressing a cackle of utter disbelief at what you were witnessing.

"Okay," The girl smirked before catching her bottom lip in her teeth, "I'll see you at 8 then?"

"On the dot." Your boyfriend smirked back.

"See you then."

Your boyfriend leaned down from his spot standing over her, pressing a kiss onto the girl's cheek. If only he knew you were here to see this right now.

You quickly swung your head back from around the corner and began heading back the way you came, hoping that neither of them would also walk this way and run into you.

Your legs trembled under you as you walked, and you feared that they might give out any second now. Your breath shook and you could barely get a decent-sized breath in or out.

God, if you'd just listened to Brian and broken up with your boyfriend when he first told you to none of this would have ever happened, and you'd still have your best friend.

You walked right past your classroom, unable to functionally act like a human, right now there would have been no way that you could sit down for the remainder of class and not freak out. You swallowed hard, trying your best to repel a sob, or maybe a laugh, perhaps even somewhat of both. You had no clue how to react, what even was the proper emotion to witnessing your boyfriend cheating on you? Probably being sad. But you didn't feel sad, no, not in the miserable cry yourself to sleep sort of way. Not in the keep your head down low not talking to anyone sort of way. Instead, you felt like you had to jump out of your own skin. Nothing in your body felt right, everything was uncomfortable. You couldn't stay still, your jaw, your breath your hands, they all shook.

There was a bubbling in your throat, not of the painful lump that precedes a cry, but a burning, one that could only be soothed by screaming at the top of your lungs, a sensation that could only be quelled by a presentation of your flaming anger.

You postulated that perhaps you'd probably be sad later, once you experienced the comedown of all this disbelief and anger. And you dreaded that too, you didn't know which emotion you'd prefer, both seemed positively unbearable.

On your aimless journey down the hall, you passed a clock hung up on a depressingly beige wall, glancing up at it with nearly teary eyes you realized there were only five minutes left in the day. A slight relief. You blinked away the forming tears in your eyes and began your shaky journey back to the classroom to get your things.

"Thank you for deciding to come back." Said your teacher, giving you a disappointed glare as you walked in the room.

"There was a line." You grumbled, heading back to your seat at the back of the room.

Defeatedly, you threw yourself back into your seat and anxiously watched the clock. Time had never seemed to move so slow as it did now, each passing second hand teasing you, bringing you closer and closer to the end of the day. Even with the minute amount of time left that burning uncomfortableness inside of you made you want to just get up and run out right there.

Then finally, the shrill ringing of the dismissal bell. It's ear-shattering high pitched tone was absolute music to your ears right now as you nearly ran out the classroom door, and pushing passed the hoards of people in the hallway.

You'd never felt so claustrophobic in your life, the dozens of students lining the hall suffocated you as they prevented you from the sweet release of being out of the school building. You pushed, and pushed, and pushed, being an absolute nuisance to everyone you came in contact with, but right now you really did not care. Then finally- you stepped outside.

The contact with the fresh air was not the cathartic release you were hoping it to be. Rather, you stepped outside and realized you no longer had anything further to look forward to, nothing else that you thought perhaps could free you of this feeling. You ran a hand through your hair, tugging on the strands a little out of pure stress. Your eyes roamed the courtyard of the school, looking out on the sea of students leaving for the weekend.

Then- you spotted him, Brian, walking alone to his car. Fuck it. You needed to do something. Talk to someone. You began walking in that direction, your legs picking up at an unreasonably fast walking pace.

You made your way to Brian's old, beatup car, he hadn;t noticed your presence right outside his passenger window. You peaked in the dirty window, you could see him in the drivers seat, head down with various CD cases strewn upon his lap, his shaggy hair falling in his face.

You tapped on the window, feeling the sun-warmed glass under your knuckle. Slightly startled Brian looked up, his face turning to one of confusion, or maybe it was disgust as his eyes locked with yours. You were having none of it. You knocked again.

"Open the fucking door Brian." You barked through the glass. Shaking his head in perhaps confusion, he leaned over the console and pulled up the lock on the door. Before Brian could even sit back down completely you were tugging on the door handle, and flinging yourself into the passenger seat of Brian's car.

"What the hell, man?" He asks as you get in.

"Save it, Brian." You snap.

"What did I do?" He asks, throwing his arms up defensively. You turn over to the side and glare at him, "Point taken." He sighs sitting back in the driver's seat. "Whatever," He shakes his head, "What are you doing here?"

"I've sat in your car a million fucking times why are you questioning me now?" You're vaguely aware of your harshness towards Brian, but part of you feels like he maybe deserves it... just a little.

"God, rough day?" He asks unsympathetically,

"I'm okay." You look him dead in the eyes. Brian turns to look at you,

"This is okay to you? Aggressively throwing yourself into my car and snapping at me after not talking for four days?"

"I said I'm okay Brian." You insist, not really keen on telling him the whole cheating situation, nowhere near being in the mood for his 'I told you so's'

"Don't fucking tell me it's him again."

You sit up a little from where you're sat in the passenger seat, inching closer to Brian's face,

"Listen to me," You raise your eyebrows, trying to emphasize your words, "I'm telling you the truth, trust me, Brian, I'm okay- I mean it."

Brian sits up in his seat as well, bringing himself closer to you. His face is so close to yours, you're looking him deep in the eyes, trying your absolute hardest not to start crying to him.

"Look man, I know I said I'm sick of hearing your problems but you don't have to lie to m-" Suddenly he's cut off when you lean forward, pressing your lips to his. What the fuck am I doing? Why the fuck did I just do that? You thought. You pulled away quickly, that sick feeling entering your stomach again after realizing what you did. You could feel yourself on the verge of throwing up. Your eyes darted around the car quickly as Brian stared at you in disbelief, you felt compelled to run out of the car, to leave here, and never ever show your face in Cody ever again.

"Oh my god Brian I'm so sorry I don't know what I was thinki-" Suddenly you were the one being cut off this time, Brian's lips pushing against your own. A sense of relief washed over you with this kiss, his hand comes up and holds your cheek. Brian's kissing is sloppy and inexperienced, and you can't help but to notice the faint smell of french fries on his hoodie sleeve, but you don't mind at all.

It's a little overwhelming, actually, the way he's holding your face close to his, the way your lips work together, literally everything else that's been going on the last few days. You feel a tear roll down your cheek, and Brian must have felt it brush up against one of his fingers because he pulls away, your face still cupped in his hand.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks again.

"Im not," You sniffle, shaking your head, "I'm not okay." Tears falling down both of your cheeks now. Brian raises his other hand to your face, wiping the stray droplets away with his thumbs

"Do you want to talk abou-"

"Please just kiss me again." You beg desperately.

"Of course." He nods eagerly.

a/n: finally a non eddie fic!! i've been on SUCH an mcr kick recently so i obviously had to write for my fav emo boy :,) ... sorry if this fic is a little uhh... teen angsty... but look at brian... that man is the EPITOME of teen angst. hope everyone enjoyed :)

[bratano]

Paul Dano as JOBY TAYLOR FOR ELLEN (2012) dir. So Yong Kim

[bratano]

posted here! hope you enjoy <3

Yo! Just read your eli sunday fics and they are very nice!!! Very cool!!!! I love the way you write!!! It got me feeling some type of way hdsjkfhdsjk

Now if you dont mind, i would love to request one!!

So in your fic Lilac Wine, the reader knows eli's secret and kinda blackmails him right?? Now how about a fic where eli knows reader's secret, and he blackmails them??

The thing is... i'm not into smut or anything too nsfw, but i do love the sexual tension, domination and punishment thing going on in your other fic Passive Manipulation, so it would be great if you can include that!! I would appreciate it a lot if you write the reader as gender neutral as well!!

Ah... i hope i'm not asking too much... if i am though, please let me know! Cheers!!

you're definitely not asking too much, the more descriptive you are with your rq's the easier it is for me lol. and i like the way you think, anonymous requester. i feel like something less nsfw fits his character better, makes a lot more sense that he would push it as far as it can go without actually going all the way. also i would love to make it GN, i've never done that before but i'll try my best!! thank you for sending this in :)

[bratano]

Mercy Mercy Me - Eli Sunday x GN!Reader

A/N: back at it again with the eli sunday writings. this one was a really awesome request from one of you and it was a TON of fun writing. alsooo wicked game part 2 out sunday. YAS. enjoy my pets

Summary: Reader moved to Little Boston hoping for some guidance from Prophet Eli. But things take a turn when he learns of their past.

Word Count: 3147

Warning: Religion, sexual tension, punishment, choking, manipulation, marriage

Moving to Little Boston was a rash decision, you knew that, but it was the only opportunity you would ever have to get away. You had lived in Philadelphia your whole life, never even leaving the city. The man you married was a boy who lived up the street growing up, your house was only a 10 minute walk to your parents house, and it was safe. Safe. You never thought a word could bring such disdain. 

After a particularly nasty fight with your husband, you went out for a walk. There on the sidewalk you saw a newspaper that you swore was a mirage. A beacon of false hope. But as you picked it up, you realized it was all too real. In big bold letters, ‘LITTLE BOSTON PROPHET PERFORMS MIRACLES’. There on the front sat a scrawny man wearing a cross, shaking hands with an old woman in front of a dusty looking wooden building. 

You had always romanticized a life with God. The only truly holy union in your mind, marriage was bullshit. It was all based on money, or looks, or just wanting somebody to do all the things you don’t want to do. But God wasn’t like that. At least, you hoped so.

You decided right then that you would leave. Philadelphia was a tomb to you, and you had to leave to pursue a real life for yourself. Not one that was just what everyone told you to do. You waited till the next day, packing your things while your husband was at work, and heading to the train station with not even so much as a note left for people to try and find you. The trip was long, but it felt even longer knowing you were about to get a life for the very first time.

When you showed up you realized how difficult it would be to really be on your own entirely. You showed up with just a suitcase and enough cash to get a room somewhere for about a week, but that’s it. The first night was a Saturday, and when you woke up on Sunday morning, you felt a shiver of glee run through your body. The Prophet.

You joined the crowd of townspeople walking to the church, catching a small glimpse of the floppy haired man from the photo. He had his arms open, greeting all the people flocking to the doors. As you walked past him, you made eye contact. You both smiled, as if making a deal. Yes, I’ll talk to you after the service.

You weren’t sure what to expect from his sermons, but it was so much more impressive than you expected. You watched in awe as he theatrically recounted Biblical stories, thrashing around the empty portion of the church with such intensity that you would have been sweating even without the desert heat. At one point he turns his attention to a man in the front pews, who had been sobbing since he sat down. Eli, at least you thought that was his name, grabbed the man’s head in his hands, gently shushing him and cooing at the man as if he were a baby. Suddenly his demeanor changed. Still clutching the man’s head, he began chanting a rhythmic ‘get out’. The crowd began joining in with him, saying to remove the ghost. The demon. The spirit. He grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck and dragged him to the front of the church, grabbing a bucket of water he had stored against the wall. At first he dumped a small amount of water, returning to a whisper before screaming to get out, his face turning red, and the entire bucket getting emptied onto the man’s head. He collapsed to the ground, curled up, sobbing. It was cathartic. It was electric. It was a miracle. 

After the sermon was over, you waited around for people to leave before approaching Eli to commit to your unspoken agreement. He pretended not to notice you approaching until you got close enough that he could get a nice look at you. An angelic face, on an angelic person. He had no idea of your past life or anything you had done before you showed up to Little Boston, you were innocent. A lamb. And by the grace of his light, you needed herding.

“Hello, Prophet Eli. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” You extended your hand, of which he took into his grasp and shook gently.

“No, we have not. You know my name, might I know yours?”

His eyes glittered from the bit of sunlight peering through the open door you stood by, his shadow giving him a gentle halo. 

“Y/N. I just moved here a few days ago, actually.”

“Ah. Are you working with that Plainview man by chance?” 

His body visually tensed. You weren’t sure who he was referring to, but you were sure glad it didn’t involve you.

“No, no. I came here after seeing your picture in the paper, actually. I’ve always been interested in getting closer to God, you see.”

He felt his face fall a little. You were just another greedy sop looking for a miracle. He was always giving, giving, giving, but no one ever gave to him. Was he ever going to reap the rewards of his sacrifices?

“Well, I’m flattered you seek my miracle services. All these other preachers are deceivers of his faith, but you know this.” He waved his hand in a dismissive way. “What do you need help with?”

You laughed gently. “I’m in no need for a miracle, Eli. You’ve already given me a miracle by guiding me here through that news article. I wish to learn from you, I want to follow the path of God.”

He nodded, trying to ignore the feeling of electricity shooting across his skin. The little lamb had come to him for herding, not the other way around. You were seeking salvation, and it gave him a feeling he had never really experienced before. He couldn’t quite place it, a feeling of bliss and pleasure with a tinge of passionate heat behind it. He bit back a devilish smirk.

“You wish to be a follower of God, my child? Well, you must earn his favor as I did. Are you sure this is what you want?”

You thought about the journey it took to get there. The reaction on the people’s faces you were sworn to love as they realized you were gone. You tried not to grimace at the thought. But you had your reasons, right? This is what God wanted, right?

You slowly nodded and he smiled. “You will start as I did then. Although tedious work, it teaches us the importance of His mercy. You will keep this church clean and tidy, starting with that puddle.” He pointed over to where he had cleansed that man (literally) with the bucket of water and tried not to frown. This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, but by his graces you would do it. Whatever it takes.

“Yes, Prophet. Anything for our Father.” 

Over the next few months you had done more cleaning than you had ever done when you lived with your husband. The church had to be spotless every single day- the Bibles mended, the pews shined, the walls scrubbed- everything. And every Sunday, you and Eli would have your own private sermons after his public ones to teach you more about devoting your life to Him. You had lived in the gritty hotel in town for a while until Eli found out and promptly moved you into his family’s ranch. They had a spare bedroom due to the absence of Eli’s twin Paul, and his father liked having you around since you didn’t mind cooking or cleaning. You had gotten quite comfortable in Little Boston. That is, until Eli heard through some gossip outside the church about your past life. Surely his little lamb wouldn’t hide this from him. Surely.

After hearing the whispering tabloids, he immediately walked back to the ranch where you were working on making that night’s dinner. Mr. Sunday was outside tending to some of the animals, so you were alone in the house. Eli had quietly opened the door and was just standing there, watching you as you worked. He wasn’t typically very interested in dating- not because he didn’t want it, he was just so busy. His religious empire was growing and he knew a partner would just slow him down. But you wouldn’t. Would you?

You turned around and saw him, jumping a little and clutching your chest.

“My goodness, you startled me. What brings you back home so soon? Dinner won’t be done for another hour or so.” You cocked your head to the side, his eyes gliding down your now exposed neck. His little lamb looked so pretty doing as they were told.

“I needed to speak with you.” He walked closer, leaning up against the cabinets of the kitchen as you stirred the pot on the stove. His voice was practically a whisper- something was wrong.

“What about?”

He paused. “I’ve been hearing some things about you from some of the townsfolk. Something about a husband?”

You dropped the spoon you were holding with a loud clatter, gasping at the mention. Who knew? Who told him? You felt his righteous gaze burning the side of your face, a beam of God’s fury scathing your cheek. He walked over to you, grabbing your arm to force you to look at him.

He suddenly understood the betrayal of Judas. You, his lovely lamb, stabbing him in the back like this. In the eyes of God, bought and sold to a man who you had left. Would you leave him too? What other pain were you capable of? He felt like Christ, his mercy being the death of him. 

“My child, have you been hiding from His judgment? Why wouldn’t you tell us about this past? You liar,” he spit, his words burning your skin. 

“I didn’t lie, I-”

He covered your mouth with his hand. “The Abandoner has no right to speak. You shall listen to me, Y/N.”

You fought his grip hard, slapping him and trying to push him away, but he just shoved you in between him and the counter. He moved his hand from your mouth to your throat, squeezing as you tried to wriggle away from him.

“You were the snake in the Garden of Eden. You devil, you temptress, you… You…” 

Tears welled up in your eyes and you started seeing stars. A voice in the back of your mind told you you deserved this. You abandoned all of those you loved for a dream, something you wished you had known you had much longer ago. But you had made your decision. You were a sinner, and you had to accept it instead of trying to run from it and hide under the skirt of servitude to Him. He let go of your throat, making you gasp for air and gripped the counter for support as your vision returned to normal.

He turned around, not wanting to even face you. He was embarrassed- no, mortified- of the fact that he believed anyone was as innocent as you. As perfect as you. Perfection. That’s all he wanted. With your impurity now left him nothing. He felt a darkness creep into him he had never felt before. Suddenly he was turned back around, slamming you down onto the top of the counter with his face now dangerously close to yours.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Eli…” You sobbed, trying to find that same sense of mercy he always carried with him. His natural air of caring was now replaced with a hollowness, a lack of fullness. Had God abandoned him? No, worse than that- he was disappointed.

“Did he even know what to do with a little thing like you? He soiled you with his bastard, unclean hands… How will we ever cleanse you, Y/N? Huh?” He breathed into your face, his scent intoxicating you. 

“I- I don’t know Eli…”

“Keep my name out of your mouth, Abandoner. I am your Prophet, and you are my lamb, understand?” He tilted your chin up to look in your eyes. You nodded earnestly, doing anything to make him release this feeling of betrayal you could see in him.

You watched as he grabbed a handful of grain from the container behind you, throwing it on the floor. Instinctually you started to get up to clean it, but he kept you firmly seated.

“Now you will listen to me, little lamb. Get on your knees,” he whispered, stepping back to give you the space to follow his wishes. 

You gulped and hopped off the counter, the grain crunching under your feet. You slowly kneeled, hissing in pain as the pieces dug into your knees. You looked up at him to see him enjoying his view. You were a poor, salvation seeking dinner and you would do anything he said to get back into his good graces. He felt the power he had over you surge through his body in a wave, his anger with you being replaced by a sickening satisfaction.

He grabbed a Bible off of a shelf in the living room, his footsteps vibrating the floor as he walked back over to you, flicking through the pages. He stopped on a passage from Luke, handing you the holy book. 

“Read this. Outloud. And then we will pray for your soul, Abandoner.”

You shuddered at the new nickname he had given you and began reading. 

“Then Satan entered Judas… the one called Iscariot, who was one of the t- twelve… Eli my knees really hurt…” You whined. You couldn’t believe how pathetic you sounded, begging Eli like a child. But your knees were getting imprinted with the tiny grains, and were going to be raw the way you kept shuffling trying to get them out from under you to no avail. He looked down at you, his face blank of any expression.

“Read, my sweet Judas. Read, or else.”

You gulped at the thought of what he would do if you refused. You weren’t sure you wanted to find out what kind of person Eli really was behind his kindness, just this glimpse was frightening enough.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment to collect yourself, and began with a sigh. “He went away and discussed with the chief priests and officers of the temple guard… how he might betray Jesus, handing him over to them…”

Eli couldn’t contain himself with the scene in front of him. You looked like his own personal Mary, on your knees with gentle tears streaming down your cheeks. But you were no virgin. You were Lilith. Sleeping with the devil. The fucked up thing was he didn’t really want you for himself, either. He wanted you preserved. Untouched. Even though you wanted each other carnally. He saw the way you looked at him, he knew that look from anywhere because he saw it in the mirror. A touch-starved mess, who would let their frustrations out one way or another.

“They were delighted and arranged to give him money... So Judas agreed and began looking for an opportunity to betray Jesus when no crowd was present,” you finally finished, holding the book up at him. You were shaking, nonverbally begging him to take it out of your hands. He gave you a pleased smile as he took it gently from you, putting it on the counter.

“Do you see what happens to those who lie and betray people, Y/N? Especially those who have given so much for you?” His voice was quiet. The hint of mocking he held was still there, but behind it a shadow of sincerity. 

“Yes Prophet. I’m so sorry Father,” you cried to him.

He bent down, grabbing your hands and forcing you to clasp them together.

“Let us pray for his forgiveness. For him to allow me to give you mercy.” He clasped his hands together, sitting up and looking down with his eyes half closed. He wanted to watch as you begged his all-mighty Father for something you didn’t deserve. 

“God, my heavenly Father… Please have mercy upon me… I have lied, and I have sinned.”

“Tell him you are the Abandoner.”

You grimaced, watching the lights dancing behind your eyelids as you tried to focus on the words.

“I… I am the Abandoner. I have abandoned my husband. I only wished to serve you, my Lord. But I see my mistakes now.”

“They were brought to light by me, your Prophet.”

“Y- yes, the Prophet has shown me. Your gift to us sinners, Lord. He has shown me the errors of my ways… May he show me his mercy.”

“It is not the Prophet’s job for mercy. That can only be granted by him.”

Your heart sank in your chest. Eli was never going to forgive you. How could he? You kept your past from him, you can’t expect him to forgive you. But you wanted him to. So badly. You wanted his approval, his praise. And you were going to be lucky if you ever got it again.

Tears still trickled down your face, the Prophet watching as they created streams down your cheeks. He had never felt so close to God.

“P- please find it within your faith to get the Prophet to forgive me, Lord… It’s all I want… Forgiveness… Amen.”

Eli let go of your hands and you opened your eyes to see a slight frown on his face while he shook his head.

“You poor, poor sinner. Your guilt will punish you until your damnation.” He stood up, turning his back to you. “Do you think the entire town should hear about your unsightly escapades in Philadelphia? Hmm?”

You shook your head though he could not see you. “Please no, Prophet Eli… Their words… The gossip…”

He chuckled. “Perhaps we will brand you the Abandoner at my next sermon?”

“Please no! I’ll do anything!”

He turned around to face you, the light from the window creating an aura of gold around him.

“Then you will be my lamb. God’s perfection on this Earth. And we will truly cleanse you of these sins that scar you. No more mistakes.”

You began to shake, sobs ringing out of you like church bells. “Thank you, Eli. Thank you.”

He leaned down, gently pressing a kiss onto the top of your forehead. “Now get up. And clean up this mess.” With that he left you in his house, going back to his church prepared to write his next sermon.

This one was going to be about forgiveness.

[bratano]

your joby taylor falling in love headcanons were so good!! could you give us general/relationship hcs for him of some sort?

a/n: thank you sm anon! of course i can give some joby taylor hcs <3 i hope these are to your liking :)

Joby Taylor relationship headcanons (gn!reader)

Joby definitely tries to give off the impression that he's too cool to be soft or a "simp" but he fails so hard at it. like the moment you walk into a room, he's all over you, he might not admit it right away but he's a huuuuge softie for you.

He doesn't really mind pda at all. holding hands, hugging, kissing, full-on making out in public doesn't phase him, in fact, honesty he really likes pda.

Despite their growing out dated-ness Joby only listens to CDs when he's in the car, he has an absolutely huge collection, and it only grows more once he starts seeing you. he'll 100% buy all your favorite albums so you can listen to them when you're in the car with him, even if it's something he wouldn't normally listen to.

sometimes even after you leave he'll keep the disc in, opting not to switch it out for something more his speed, he'll just continue to listen because it makes him think of you.

If you don't already know how Joby will probably try to teach you how to play guitar. he'll sit behind you, gently guiding your hand up and down the frets, positioning your fingers on the strings just right. His little guitar lessons are filled with small cheek kisses from Joby and you getting flustered whenever he praises you for getting something right.

Joby isn't really the world's greatest teacher though, he'll often get distracted by you, admiring how absolutely beautiful you look instead of teaching you how to play Wonderwall or something.

And oh my god, Joby loves it whenever you paint his nails. you always do it so much better than he does, and you don't have to worry about painting with your non-dominant hand so it's much neater.

Joby especially loves when you match your nails to his, which you do pretty often. sometimes he'll paint your nails for you, but only during times when you don't mind cleaning up like half the bottle of nail polish from around your fingers.

he also likes when you do his makeup for his band's shows. having you straddle him and he leans back while you get all up super close to his face to carefully trace his waterline with black eyeliner, god, it drives him absolutely wild.

Joby is super and i mean super protective of that brown leather jacket he has, like, it's his prized possession, and you are the only other person he would ever let wear it.

In fact, he loves it when you wear his jacket, and honestly, his clothes in general, he loves seeing you in them.

When he's home Joby is almost constantly listening to his music at an ear-shattering volume and he just dances around to it. If you're with him, he's going to try to convince you to dance along with him, and it puts just THE biggest smile on his face whenever you do.

Joby is a super heavy sleeper, it is nearly impossible for you to drag him out of bed in the mornings. you'll try to nudge his shoulder to get him up because it's nearly noon and in response, all he'll do is softly groan and pull you nice and close to him so you're both stuck in bed.

speaking of holding you, Joby is a huge sucker for cuddling. he pretty much always prefers to be the big spoon, it makes him feel like he's protecting you, and he really likes that.

There's almost nothing Joby loves more in this world than coming home after a late-night playing a gig and cuddling up to you. Especially the nights when he doesn't get home until the wee hours of the morning, the moment he's in the door he's stripping off his clothes and slipping into bed with you. It's one of the few times he gets to relax during his usually fast-paced lifestyle, so he savors every minute he has snuggled up next to you.

Joby's usual go-to cuddling position is with arms wrapped completely around you and your back to his chest. he'll also usually rest his chin on the top of your head, sometimes leaning down to place small kisses on your forehead.

He also likes it when you lay chest to chest with him too, well, it's usually more like your head to his chest since he's a decent bit taller than you. When you two lay like this he'll probably wrap one arm around your back, and he'll use his free hand to hold the back of your head, pressing you against his chest.

Joby is also super protective and honestly kind of possessive, but not in a controlling way at all since he's an overall pretty laid-back guy. but if he ever catches someone hitting on you or just making you uncomfortable he will 100% pick a fight, he has no fears of confrontation.

Joby isn't really the greatest with words, and sometimes he doesn't always know exactly how to articulate how he feels in conversation, so, to combat this he's definitely written more than a few songs about and for you.

It's his little way of letting you know how much he loves and cares about you, even if he can't always find the right words when he's talking to you.

And he really loves and cares about you, after his divorce with Claire he was really nervous he'd never find love again, and he was certain he just wasn't cut out to be in a healthy, mutual relationship. But you proved him wrong entirely, and he will never let you forget that.

[bratano]

Snack time

💚Alex is too scared to ask for food when he’s hungry. Used to the dull pain in his stomach that follows, he would endure, to avoid the anger from his aunt whenever he asked for more to eat “You eat when I decide to feed you!”

💚You’re coloring with Alex, absentmindedly doodling flowers, when his stomach growls. “Alex, are you hungry?” he’s hesitant to answer. Unsure of how you’ll respond, will you get mad and yell at him or not make dinner later as a punishment? But you’d been so nice and his tummy hurt “Mmmhmm” looking away quickly preparing himself for your reaction “Why didn’t you say anything? Let’s go see what we have!”

💚Early on you realize that Alex won’t ask for food or say he’s hungry. Waiting until his stomach is growling loud enough for you to hear. Even with you making three meals a day it wasn’t always enough. (At meal time Alex eats everything on his plate even when you know he doesn’t like something) 

💚You decide to start cutting up fruit, putting it into small containers, to leave in the fridge. Filling a basket with various snacks and leaving it on the counter. Alex walks in and you show him exactly where they are. “These are for you whenever you’re feeling hungry. You can grab one whenever you want you don’t even have to ask, okay!”

💚Alex isn’t sure if it’s a trick, you haven’t gotten mad at him once and he wants it to stay that way, only grabbing snacks when you are in the other room. Being as quiet as possible taking it to his room. Grabbing his plushie and sitting on the floor next to his bed to enjoy it.

💚There are times when you are in the kitchen and Alex will linger by the doorway. Usually a sign that he’s waiting for you to leave so you do and wait in the living room. The inevitable sound of the fridge opening or the rustling of packages as Alex grabs a snack. When you peek into the kitchen he’s already gone. 

💚Curiosity over comes you where does Alex go for his snack break? Grabbing some fruit snacks you went to find him. Wandering the house until you hear Alex in his room making happy little noises. Peeking into his room you watch from the doorway. Alex’s head barley showing over the side of the bed. But you could still see him bringing an apple slice to his mouth. 

💚You walk over to sit next to him. When Alex sees you he pushes the container of apple slices under his bed trying to hide it from you. Looking away to avoid your gaze as you sit beside him.

💚“Alex its okay” you reach under the bed retrieving the container and gently placing it back into his hands “I’m happy to see you eating and getting your own food, I’m proud of you. You deserve to eat when you’re hungry, okay. I won’t be mad and you won’t get in trouble.” silence was the only response you got.

💚Moments of silence passed before you remembered “I actually came here because I also wanted a snack. And I thought it would be nice if we enjoyed them together, is that okay?” Alex slowly shook his head yes finally looking in your direction. 

💚Pouring the fruit snacks in your palm you held it out to him “You can have some too!” Alex looks from you to your hand and slowly reaches out. Taking all the grape and cherry ones leaving you with lemon and orange

💚After that moment Alex feels comfortable asking for food (even asking if he could have specific things). Now whenever Alex gets a snack he gets one for you too. It has become customary for snack time to be enjoyed on the floor next to Alex bed!

Snack facts about Alex (my thoughts and opinions)

💚 Apples are his favorite fruit! Likes how they feel when he bites into them and they’re sweet. (You have spoiled him, now he) Only wants to eat them when they are cut into slices, refuses to eat an apple whole. 

💚Doesn’t really like watermelon or oranges because they are too juicy and it gets on his hands and shirt making them sticky. They’re also a little too sour for him. 

💚Likes honeydew melon and green grapes (his favorite color is green I feel it in my soul 🥺)

💚Alex loves peanut butter crackers! (the cheese ones are alright too but the peanut butter ones come first) Always finishes them with crumbs all over his shirt.

💚When the snack basket is ‘empty’ only granola bars are left. So you end up eating them all and make a note to not buy them again.

💚When Alex eats fruit snacks he always gives you the orange and lemon ones because he thinks they’re your favorite (secretly you only eat them because he doesn’t like them) 

💚If you’re not next to him he will leave the fruit snacks on the counter for you. So sometimes you’ll walk into the kitchen with a mini pile of orange and yellow fruit snacks waiting just for you!

💚Prefers juice boxes over juice in a cup because the straw makes it more fun and it’s the perfect amount! Plus too much juice usually makes his tummy ache. 

💚After he eats his fruit he closes the container and leaves it sitting perfectly in the sink.

*I hope everyone liked it 😊 

Masterlist

[bratano]

Little Green Monster

Okay, fuck. I watched The Girl Next Door on Sunday and it was great, Klitz was the sweetest. Tagging @trelaney again for providing me with some excellent recommendations.

Klitz x femme! Reader

Warnings: Language, some sexual references, jealousy, Klitz is clueless

1.8k

Klitz hates that he’s being like this.

He’s always the level-headed one. He needs to be the level-headed one given, well, everything about Eli, and Matthew’s flair for dramatics. So he pretended to be happy for you when you announced that Casey had asked you to prom, even though it felt like his heart had fallen out of his ass. 

He swallowed his pride, let you stand chest to chest with him in different pairs of heels to “compare heights” without his eyes lingering too long on your lips, drove you to the florist to purchase a boutineer and then the seamstress—zipped you into the satin green fabric even though he wanted more than anything to do the opposite.

He’d done so well at pretending . . . but this feels like the last straw.

Casey slides in front of him, leaning against the locker next to yours, apparently unaware that Klitz had been in the middle of a conversation with you. He chews on the words he had planned on saying, letting them turn bitter in his mouth while you smile brightly up at Casey.

He leaves, finally, with a simple “pick you up at seven,” and a wink. Klitz can’t help himself.

“You know he only asked you to prom because he wants to fuck you, right?”

Matthew shoots him a look, and Eli’s eyes go wide. “Dude.”

Your silence is deafening, expression inscrutable as you dab at the lip gloss you’d just applied, checking the effect in your little magnetic mirror on your locker door. The tip of your finger is shiny when you pull it away, and he thinks about taking your wrist in his hands, cleaning it away on his tongue.

You slam your locker shut without warning, and Klitz is knocked from his little daydream, forced to jump back so the door doesn’t take off his nose. You’re still calm as ever, folding your arms over your chest, popping your hip.

“So?”

Oh. Klitz feels like he’s been punched in the gut. It’s that same blinding sensation as all those times he’d been tripped in the hallway or pushed into the lockers by assholes with smiles just like Casey’s. He feels the sting of embarrassment in the back of his throat, a thousand times more painful than any bruise.

Eli takes Matt by the arm, shoving him down the hallway. He spares one glance back at Klitz, and the look on his face says he’s not willing to witness the burial of his friend’s hopes and dreams. “We gotta get to class.”

The bell isn’t going to ring for another few minutes, but they’re already sprinting through the halls. Klitz is starting to wish he could go with them. He’s shit out of luck; you have ceramics together next.

You start walking towards the art hall in the opposite direction of Matt and Eli, and he has to jog to catch up, matching your strides easily with his long legs, ignoring the dirty looks shot in his direction. People still stare when they see you with him, or Matt and Eli. They wonder why you’re wasting your time.

And he wonders that, too. People like you. They say hi to you in the hallways, invite you to parties that you choose not to attend, talk to you in class about more than just the answers to the homework from the night before. It’s not just because you’re pretty either . . . although that must have an impact. He knows what guys say about you in the locker room when they don’t care who’s listening; it kind of makes him sick.

“I just mean—“ God, he doesn’t want to say this. He doesn’t want to know. “Do you like him?”

You shoot him a look out of the corner of your eye, like, don’t be so childish. “What does that matter?”

It matters to him. It matters a lot.

It’s Klitz’s turn to play coy, dragging you to a stop with his heavy silence. Your shoulders drop with a sigh, eyes meeting his. “I’m going with Casey because he’s the one who asked me.”

The conversation ends there; you don’t say another word to him for the rest of class, and your words ping around his head like the graphics of a bad computer screen saver.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

“It means she wanted you to ask her, stupid.” 

Klitz shouldn’t have brought it up. Especially not with Eli—already such a fucking know-it-all, and totally drunk on power now that the shoot is finished, ordering his minions around as they erase all traces of their presence from the library. He scratches at the back of his neck beneath the collar of the itchy tuxedo shirt he’d rented, but there’s no chasing away the heat that clings to him. 

“Dude, don’t be an ass.”

It’s not like Klitz hadn’t thought it before. There were times—watching you laugh in the passenger seat of his car, or laying side by side on the floor of your bedroom while he went over the calculus study guide with you—where everything felt perfect. Where he thought, it could always be like this. In those moments, he wondered what could happen if he rested a hand on your thigh and squeezed, or bridged that trivial distance and pressed his mouth to yours. He wondered, if tried hard enough, if he could make you feel it, too.

But that was a fantasy. If you didn’t feel that way about him, there was nothing he could do. 

Eli drops the cord he’d been wrapping in neat loops around his elbows, taking Klitz by the shoulders.

“Dude, you’re one of the smartest people I know and you’re still dumb as fuck.” 

Klitz brushes him off. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.” 

“I’m telling you, man, she wants you. But if you’re not going to listen to me, there’s only one way to find out.”

“If you really like this girl, you should go tell her.” 

Klitz turns over his shoulder, cheeks going pink. It’s Ferrari, back in her dress again, with April close behind. He didn’t think they’d been listening. Or at least, he hoped they hadn’t been listening.

“Yeah, you go, honey. We can take care of things here,” April’s joined in now, leaving Klitz feeling a little trapped and more than a little turned on. 

April winks, and his stomach churns. “She’d have to be stupid to say no.” 

“Uh, yeah . . . okay.”

He almost trips over his feet getting to the door, sweaty hands shoved into his pockets as he paces down the empty hallway.

But you’re not at the dance. He can’t find you anywhere—not swaying to some slow song from ten years ago while Casey cops a feel, or sipping spiked punch at one of the back tables. He thinks, without really meaning to, about your lipstick smearing against Casey’s neck, his hands at the zipper in the middle of your back.

Klitz’s glasses go foggy. It’s like he’s drowning, pulling in huge gulps of air that go nowhere, his lungs flayed open under the knife of your rejection.

And it’s all his fault.

He forces his way out the doors, and the night air is a little cooler, taking the heat from his cheeks.

“Klitz?”

He turns to the sound of your voice.

You’re standing at the edge of the parking lot, arms wrapped tight around your torso. Illuminated by the street light, you’re practically glowing, but he doesn’t miss the way your jaw tightens, voice strained and eyes rimmed red, like you’re trying not to cry.

He sniffs. “Oh, hey.” Are you alright? he thinks. Tell me what’s wrong, please. I want to fix it.  “Where’s Casey?”

Damn it. Your eyes go glassy, and you drop his gaze.

“He left with Melanie Billings a half an hour ago. I guess her date ditched her, too.”

Oh. His hands flex at his sides, and he thinks about reaching out to you, resting a hand on your bare shoulder blade. He thinks about your warm skin against his palm, about stroking his thumb over the place where the strap of your dress rests, and then he decides against it. He’s never been very affectionate with his friends.

Then again, he doesn’t really want to be your friend.

There’s a song, just barely audible through the glass doors behind you, quiet enough that he can’t hear the words, just a soft and pleasant melody.

“Do you wanna dance?”

“What?”

He holds out his arms, a surge of bravery coursing through him, “dance with me.”

He didn’t think you’d do it. He thought you’d laugh at him, or pretend to laugh with him, depending on how much pity you were willing to offer, but instead, your arms are wrapping around his neck. His hands meet your waist, and he hopes you don’t feel his fingers shaking through the layers of fabric.

You’re looking up at him with wet eyes, lips shining after you run your tongue between them. “Thanks, Klitz.”

“Yeah,” his voice cracks, eyes falling closed; he can’t look at you if he’s going to say anything else, “no problem.”

The song changes to something more upbeat, the heavy base shaking the glass, but you don’t pull away. You must be stepping closer, because he feels your chest resting against his, letting his hands slide further around your waist.

Okay. So he’s dreaming. He’s going to wake up in a second, wake up sadder than he’s ever felt before, and then he’ll accept that this never happened and shove his glasses on his face. He’ll drive to your house with his shoulders hunched, wait outside your house until you walk out the front door, and he’ll spend the entire drive to school shooting glances in your direction and wondering when the day would come where he wouldn’t be such a fucking loser.

“Klitz?”

Your fingers are stroking through his hair—nails just barely grazing his scalp—and his lungs ache. He can’t remember how to open his eyes. 

“Yeah?” This is a dream. He’s dreaming. But if it’s a dream, why can he feel your breath on his neck?

“Kiss me?”

His eyes fall to yours, and he has to admit, his dreams have never looked this good.

“Yeah, okay.”

He drops his head, bringing his lips closer to yours, but you bridge the final distance, one hand coming to cup his cheek, and he covers it with his own, desperate to keep you there.

Your body is so warm, even through the layers of your dress, through the stupid vest he’s wearing. Your lips are soft and they move against his and he can taste you, your tongue is pressing against his teeth, and oh my god, this isn’t a dream.

A flood of noise pours from the opening doors; in the back of his mind, Klitz recognizes Eli’s voice out of the crowd. “Oh my god, dude. Finally.”

[bratano]

Playground Love - Joby Taylor x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

A/N: hey dano freaks, back with a joby taylor story since i've been DYING to write for him. part 2 to all these things i've done and wicked game will be out next week, hold me to it please- also i need to fix my masterlist so bad its not even funny so sorry that it doesn't work rn. anyways, my favorite paul character joby taylor ladies and gentlemen

Summary: You have been Snake Trouble's manager for years, and became close friends with Joby because of it. After returning from hiatus, the jitters before their first show back leads to some heated exchanges.

Word Count: 3373

Warnings: NSFW!!, exhibitionism, slut-shaming, p in v sex, fingering, alcohol/drug ment

Being the manager of Snake Trouble had a million and one perks. You got to travel the US, see the guys put on a great show, party all night, and then do it all over again tomorrow. But one of the main benefits was the time you got to spend with Joby.

When the label assigned you as their manager, he hated you at first. He showed up to every band meeting drunk or in such a bad mood he wouldn’t even look at you. He thought you were some corporate asshole who was a total poser and didn’t know anything about music or the lifestyle. That all changed after you got into a brutal fist fight at a bar all of you had went to at your third time meeting because some guy tried to grope you. He knew you were the real shit then.

After that you had developed a really close friendship with him. In fact he would never admit this, but you were really his only friend. He couldn’t talk to his band mates about his life, or any of his previous girlfriends- especially not his wife. But you were always there to listen. When he found out he was getting divorced, you were the first person he had called. You were there for him the whole process- including when he signed the custody away for his daughter. It was heartbreaking seeing him be torn apart by a woman he once loved. Even through all his faults, you couldn't understand how she could take everything from him. 

The way Joby was so torn up after Claire divorced him, you thought he would never move on. But he did, quickly in fact. He had had quite a few girlfriends and girls join him in the studio while they practiced or recorded. You wanted to say you didn’t mind, but all the girls were the same kind of groupie girls he always brought along. He knew he didn’t really want a real relationship with any of them, he was just using them because he wanted to feel adored. They would do whatever he said as long as he was in that band, and he liked the power. After he disappeared for a while though, he stopped bringing other girls around. At least to the studio.

You didn’t see him for a months. He took a break from Snake Trouble, partying, drugs- he just sort of disappeared out of thin air. For a while you had thought he died until he called you from a payphone in New Mexico asking you to tell the band they were on hiatus until further notice. Thanks Joby for leaving the hard part to you. When he came back he was pretty much the same, but a lot less- well, stupid in your eyes. He didn’t seem to be getting himself into as much trouble, or drinking himself to stupidity. It was like he developed a purpose. Music was no longer a passion or a hobby, he started taking it seriously and was writing some of the best material Snake Trouble had ever put out.

Their first post-hiatus show was that night and you couldn’t believe Joby was as nervous as he was. He never, ever showed nerves before going on stage- but there you were watching him pace around his new house, talking to himself about what the plan was that night. He looked so cute with his eyebrows furrowed and his fingers running through his hair every ten seconds. 

Oh yeah, and you had had a crush on Joby before you had even became Snake Trouble’s manager. You had seen a few of their shows and was smitten with his stage presence and devilish good looks. Even after you saw all the girls he went out with, walked in him on him a million times- even went to his wedding for God’s sake, you held out hope he would finally see you as something more. It was all just a pipe dream, he would never know about it. But you often found yourself daydreaming of him professing his love to you through a song on stage or drunkenly kissing you at one of the dives you often found yourselves at. It was all a dream. A shitty, self-indulgent dream.

“God, no, we shouldn’t play that song… Maybe a cover? No…” He was grumbling as his boots thud against the hardwood floors.

“Why don’t you play one of your new songs?” You suggested from his rather uncomfortable leather couch.

He stopped for a second, rubbing his chin. “…Yeah. Yeah, we should do that. I’ll talk to the guys.” He continued pacing, mumbling about something else.

“Joby, sit down and relax. Seriously, you’re stressing yourself out over nothing. I’m your manager, I would say if you guys weren’t ready for a show yet,” you reassured. “Why don’t you let me do your makeup like you wanted me to?”

He stopped pacing and sighed, allowing his arms that were folded to relax at his sides as he looked up at the ceiling. 

“You’re right, what am I doin’.” He rubbed his face. “Yeah, show me how to do that stuff. Eyeshadow or whatever.”

“Eyeliner,” you corrected as you dug through your purse to find the eyeliner pencil you had bought for him.

He sat down on the couch next to you. “Right.”

You held up the small black pencil. “Here it is. Lay back and I’ll put it on ya.”

He laid down on the couch obediently and you climbed on top of him. This wasn’t the first time you had been on top of him, you guys were pretty touchy. You used to play fight often when you were bored on the tour bus, and even had a couple of real fights. You weren’t going to lie. Joby was kind of an asshole sometimes, but that’s kind of what you liked about him. If he wasn’t a jerk you probably wouldn’t have even noticed him.

You had done his makeup for the first time like this as a dare from one of his other bandmates, James. Joby didn’t want to admit it in front of them, but he loved the way it looked on him. Especially because it was something you did for him.

“Okay, close your eyes,” you instructed as you straddled him and held his face. His eyes shut and he took a deep breath. 

“Try not to poke me in the eye this time, alright?” He teased.

“Try not to open your eyes while I have a pencil by your eye, alright?” You replied.

“Touché.”

You carefully began applying a thick black smear of eyeliner across his right eye. You found yourself observing his face as you did it- his gentle eyelashes, his gorgeous nose, the dimple on his chin. He looked so pretty under you. Suddenly you were aware of your close your lips were, and your face felt hot. 

“Almost done?” Joby asked, the eye you weren’t working on opening to look over at you. He saw the redness of your cheeks and bit back a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah… Now the other eye…” You squeaked.

You started on the other eye and he started squirming, getting eyeliner all over his eye.

“Dammit Joby, hold still. I have to start all over.” You leaned over to the coffee table to grab the makeup wipes out of your purse.

He grinned. “Sorry. That eye is ticklish.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed his husky laugh and you started wiping off the messed up eyeliner on his left eye. Again, he started squirming.

“The wipe is cold,” he whined, his brows furrowing yet again. 

“Shh, I’m almost done,” you cooed. He huffed in reply. “God you’re a baby.” 

“A baby? Ouch, my ego,” he sarcastically quipped.

“Somebody has to knock you down a few pegs.”

“Yeah yeah, so my cute little manager who I thought was my friend is the one to do that job?”

You felt your legs attempt to squeeze together. Cute little manager. He knew you hated it when he called you that. Mainly because it made you so weak.

You smiled meekly, a gentle yes leaving your lips. He cocked an eyebrow.

“What is it with you today? You’re all quiet.”

You sighed, your cheeks glowing even more red. “I guess I just… I missed doing this. The pre-show preparation has-“

“Always been your favorite part,” he interrupted. “You always say that.” 

You playfully smacked his shoulder. “Don’t interrupt me.”

“Don’t repeat yourself, then. I never forget what you say anyways.”

You try to move quickly past what he just said. “Yeah, unless it’s that we have a meeting in the studio at 8 am. Suddenly it’s ‘I set my alarm for 9, sorry’.” You mocked.

“You’re such a smartass, you know that? I mean it, I never forget.”

“Ah, so it’s chosen ignorance that makes you late.”

He snapped his fingers at you. “Hey, watch your mouth.”

You laughed. “Or what?”

The implications of what you said hit you, and you tried to go back to finishing his makeup. He grabbed the arm with the pencil in it to get you to meet his gaze.

“Do you really want to find out, darlin’?”

You had only ever heard him use that tone of voice with the girls he brought back after shows. A dark, sickly sweet tone with a commanding presence. You tried not to show him a reaction, but you couldn’t control the soft gasp that escaped you. He laughed softly, his hands finding their way to your sides.

“Seriously Joby… I’m trying to finish this, sit still…” You sheepishly replied, putting some finishing touches on his now outlined eye. 

“Do you think I let just any girl climb on top of me like this? Y/N, you’ve always been my exception.”

You leaned back, inspecting your handiwork as his eyes fluttered open. He was gripping your hips now, gently pulling you down onto him. The contact made you shaky and you dropped the eyeliner pencil in your hand, watching it fall to the floor.

“The way you bring girls back every night, maybe I do think you let any girl climb on top of you,” you mumbled, leaning down to grab the pencil and getting a moment to break your straddle on him.

“Excuse me? What, you think I’m a whore? I never say anything about the guys I see you with,” he whispered. He sounded almost hurt.

“What are you implying?” You furrowed your brows, now growing defensive.

“I guess what I’m saying is I’m jealous of all the guys who get your undivided attention.” He joked.

You leaned down, suddenly growing bold at his teasing and placed your hands on his chest and leaned down so your faces were close.

“You want my attention, you have it right now.”

Joby kissed you gently, pulling away to test your reaction. Seeing the sultry look on your face he kissed you again, this time harder. His hands found their way to your hair, pushing your mouth into his. You moaned as his tongue softly snuck past your lips, moving agonizingly slow as he explored your taste. You whined as your tongues danced together, yours desperately slipping against his while he teased you with his pace. 

You felt one of his hands leave your hair before finding it’s way between your legs. Your heat involuntarily grinded against the calloused fingers he was using to apply pressure. He groaned a little into your mouth at your movement.

Embarrassed, you broke the kiss. “I- I’m sorry, Joby… I’ve just… I’ve wanted this for so long…”

“How long, darlin’?” He sighed, his fingers slipping their way into your pants and grazing within your folds.

You squeaked at his touch. “S- since I saw you on stage at the first time… I couldn’t take my eyes off of you…”

“Aw, Y/N had a little crush. What did you want me to do to you, huh? Tell me,” he smirked, his rough fingers now toying with your already pulsing clit.

You covered your mouth with your hand to prevent the unholy sound that came out of you as he expertly teased your clit. Again, going as slow as possible to watch you melt into him.

“Hmm? What was that? I didn’t quite hear you,” he continued teasing, taking his hand out of your hair to grab your hand away from your mouth.

“I- Fuck I can’t… I can’t talk when y- you’re doing that… Oh Joby…” You were whining and thrusting your hips helplessly. You had always imagined he’d be good in bed, but nothing like this. This was better than any fantasy you could have possibly had about him.

“You’re gonna have to, darlin’. Or I won’t touch you anymore.”

You gripped his shirt tightly, trying not to unravel in front of him. The desire to tell him all the dirty little thoughts you had about him, all the time you moaned his name as your vibrator pressed into your heat, was threatening to come out of you. But you couldn’t tell him all your secrets just yet.

“I wanted… I wanted you to want me…”

“Mhm, and?” He put a little more pressure on your clit and you let out another pitiful sound.

“A- and I wanted you to- Oh god… take me back to your hotel room… And fuck all night…”

“All night? No offense, but at this rate you won’t last one round.” One of his fingers finally found their way inside you, curling perfectly to hit that sweet spot.

“Fuck you, Joby…”

“Hmm, don’t you mean fuck me? C’mon, say it nicely. Say ‘Fuck me, Joby’.”

You shook your head, his thumb now pressing harshly against your clit and another one of his fingers roughly sliding inside you. Your head was spinning from the realization that it was really Joby doing this to you, and loving every second of it. The pleased smirk on his face from below you made it even more difficult not to let the bubbling feeling in your gut explode. Just before you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he removed his thumb from your swollen bud and stopped moving his fingers. You whined loudly at the lack of stimulation.

“Don’t stop… Please don’t stop, Joby…” you moaned quietly into his ear.

“I’ll stop unless you say it.”

You sighed shakily, running your hands up and down his chest, taking in the moment of his eyes looking down at you and his body against yours.

“Please fuck me, Joby… Please…”

He smiled. “See? That wasn’t so hard, darlin’. I’d love to fuck you.” 

Before you could even think Joby yanked his hand out of your pants and pushed you back on the other side of the couch and climbed on top of you, one of his necklaces tracing up your body as his face met yours.

“Unbuckle my belt, baby.”

You complied, looking down at the intricate belt he was wearing and slowly unbuckled it. He hummed at the sight, your pretty hands so close to his bulge. You unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans before pulling your own pants down and revealing your black underwear. He went to pull your underwear down and you stiffened. God you were nervous, what if he didn’t think you were good in bed? Your fears almost made you stop the whole thing before he moved for you.

He slowly pulled your underwear down, his jaw dropping at the sight of your dripping, swollen cunt. 

“Jesus Christ… Look at how wet I got you, darlin’. Are you ready for me to make you feel good?”

You nodded desperately, your legs involuntarily spreading. He smiled gently before pulling his length out. But as he did, your phone began to ring from your purse.

You groaned in agony, knowing your escapade was coming to a screeching halt. He leaned over and grabbed your phone for you, handing it to you. You checked the screen on the front, the name ‘JAMES’ flashing in front of you.

“S- sorry, it’s James… Probably about the show… I better pick up.” You reluctantly whimper.

“Can I fuck you while you’re on the call?” He asked bluntly, as if he wasn’t saying he should basically fuck you while another person is in the room.

You felt a wave of heat rush to your already throbbing core. You wanted him so bad, but you weren’t sure if you could keep it together. But God, the risk of it all…

“Please.”

He smirked before guiding himself to your entrance, allowing you to adjust to his girth and length. He groaned at your tightness, gripping the couch for support from how good you felt. You flipped open your phone and put on your most professional, definitely-not-having-the-best-sex-of-my-life voice to answer the call.

“James? What’s up?”

Joby slowly slid into you all the way, before achingly sliding back out of you. You squirmed and bit your lip to hold back a moan. Your mouth just hung open silently as you felt him delve into you.

James went on talking about some lights that they were working on for the show and what the set list should be, and a bunch of other stuff you weren’t really absorbing due to how deep Joby was fucking you. He was going so slow, giving you time to get used to him before he started speeding up, your hips clashing together and making an erotic slapping sound. Your hand found its way up his chest, pulling his shirt up to expose his hip tattoos. His hair was falling all into his face and his brows furrowed as he focused on your body.

“Mhm, yeah… James, can we talk later? I’m t- trying to help Joby get ready for the show…” You covered your mouth as he brought one of his hands down from above your head to your clit. You watched in agonizing heat as he started going harder and faster with pressure now on your bud.

You moaned loudly into your hand, clutching the phone into your chest to muffle the sound. Your eyes were watering from the intensity, and the stress of having to keep yourself restrained.

“Y- yeah... I’m actually fucking him right now, funny that you mention it,” you replied to James’ jesting about how you’re probably blowing him in preparation. He laughed, not realizing you weren’t joking at all. 

Joby smirked at the look on your face, recognizing that you were getting close by how flushed you were and how tight your eyebrows were. He adjusted himself slightly, now perfectly hitting your sweet spot as recklessly as he could. 

“O- oh fuck Joby…” You moaned into the phone. James laughed awkwardly, thinking it was a joke. “Oh… Hah, yeah… I was kidding… Okaytalktoyoulaterbye,” you hurriedly said before hanging up and slamming your lips into Joby’s.

He pressed hard on your clit and you knew you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Between how good it felt, the phone call, just Joby being the one doing this to you, you knew you couldn’t keep it together any longer. You came all over his cock, your walls squeezing as you moaned pathetically into his mouth, whispering his name over and over. With a few more thrusts he knew he was getting close too.

“Can I cum in you, darlin’…? Please let me cum in you… I want this to be all mine…” He panted into your ear.

You enthusiastically nodded. “All yours, Joby… All yours…”

He started fucking you like a dog in heat, his hips hardly leaving yours as he pounded into you. With one final thrust he came with a groan, his seed coating your cervix and spilling out as he came down from his high and pulled out. 

You both laid there, panting next to each other, looking down at your now leaking hole. He laid his head in the crook of your neck, his breath gently gliding across your skin. He lightly chuckled, sitting up to look you in the eyes.

“Y’know, for being my cute little manager, you are one good fuck.”

[bratano]

hope you have a good day :)

me rn after seeing this … thank you so much i hope you have/had a good day too <3

[bratano]

hey guys sorry for the delay in the part 2 of wicked game and all these things that i’ve done people have been asking for, i’m still wrapping up finals/moving out/blah blah blah college stuff but i’ve been working on it and it’ll be coming soon along with the other requests you all have been giving me, so keep an eye out in the next couple of days 👀 also thank you for 200 followers holy shit!!!

[bratano]

Wicked Game - Klitz x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

A/N: welcome back danonationnnn <3 i've had a couple of requests to write things for klitz so i decided to deliver finally haha. this was a really awesome change of pace from the eli sunday writing. also i'm sorry for how insanely raunchy this is? the sex appeal he oozes ig damn. also all characters are 18+ in this story!!!

Summary: You and your friend Klitz have a bit of a teasing war going on, and you're determined to win. Your secret weapon? A popsicle, of course.

Word count: 3227

Warning: NSFW!!, teasing, foodplay kind of, spit, implications of oral sex, jerk-off ment, kind of just klitz being a creep in general sorry this story is so raunchy

Klitz knew he had no chance with you just by the way you teased him. Sure, you were way better looking than him to most people and you had more experience, but none of that ever stopped him from trying his luck at flirting with other girls way out of his league. Hell, he got away with a couple of feels just from how good his game is. But when you teased him back the way you did, it always threw him off. Mainly because you were better than him at it. And you were about to prove it.

Recently, he had done quite the job teasing you in the mall the other day after you asked him to drive you there. You still hadn’t gotten your license, mainly because you were scared of driving, but also because you loved having the guys drive you around. It made you feel special, and none of them ever protested being seen with you around town in their cars. This particular time you had asked if Eli could drive you out to the mall because you needed to buy some new clothes, but he ended up having something come up and had Klitz take you. After mentioning you wished you had brought one of your friends to help give you some fashion advice, he ended up joining you to keep you company and give you some of his thoughts on what you bought.

Of course, Eli had lied because he’s been trying to get you and Klitz together since you had become friends with them during Freshman year. Any chance he could get to force you two to spend time together he would take, and it was just by luck that you invited him to hang out at the mall with you. The mall was super busy that day, and Klitz was trying to make sure he didn’t lose you in the crowds and was being insanely handsy. At one point while traversing through a sea of sweaty dads and sorority girls you felt his hands snake around you and put his hand on the extremely sensitive part of your stomach, right above where your pantyline began. Under normal circumstances you would slap his hands away and playfully cuss him out for trying to cop a feel, but this time it was different. All of a sudden you felt a heat between your legs and a wave of protection from Klitz fall over you. How were you supposed to know he could be so- I don’t know- manly? After seeing how red your face got after he grabbed you like that, he spent the whole rest of the time you were out with his hands all over you. God, and the way his eyes traveled up and down your body when you held up a shirt you liked or came out of the dressing room with an outfit you tried on was almost unbearable. You wanted to grab him by the collar of the stupid hand-me-down shirt he was wearing and drag him back in that dressing room with you, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. But he wasn’t that kind of guy, and you didn’t want things to start that way with him. Plus, you were going to get him back one way or another.

You had invited Klitz over for some help with your math, since he was way better at it than you and was the only one who didn’t make fun of you for not getting it (Matt was notoriously mean when it came to tutoring you). It was insanely hot that day, record breaking heat for the middle of April, and of course you had decided to work outside in your mom’s garden despite Klitz's protest that his allergies would flare up and his backpack would start to smell like grass. You didn’t care because it was all a part of your plan, and you knew he would do whatever you said anyways.

About an hour into the session, you look over at Klitz to see his brow beaded in sweat and his glasses slipping down his face. he looked extra cute trying to keep them pushed up every ten seconds, eventually giving in to the way they slipped down to the middle of the bridge of his nose where the hump you loved so much rose.

“Can’t we go inside? I’m sweating,” he said, lifting up his arm to show the massive sweat stain he had under there. You laughed, God that laugh drove him crazy. especially when he knew he was the cause of it, even for something as embarrassing as him sweating like a pig.

“But I don’t want to move everything inside, and I need the extra sun so I can look good for the beach trip we have planned in a few weeks.” You gestured up to the glowing yellow orb beaming down upon you.

He looked down at you and his jaw dropped from how gorgeous you looked. Typically he tried not to look at you as much as possible. Well, at least when you could catch him looking. But sometimes he would accidentally get a full view of you and he could have sworn he was looking at one of those paintings they showed in that art class he had to take last year- but somehow better. You had put your hair up messily a few minutes ago and little locks of your hair were cascading down to frame your gorgeous face. Your tank top showed your collarbones and cleavage that were now slick with your sweat. in just the two second look over he gave you, he damn near gave himself a raging boner.

That’s another thing that let him know he had no chance with you- his sex drive couldn’t handle it. Everyday he had to come home and immediately lock himself in his room just to rub one out thinking about what you wore that day. Despite being one of the hottest girls in school, you never wore anything too risqué. You wore typical clothes, which made you even sexier in his mind. Sometimes he imagined what you would look like in a tight cocktail dress, or lingerie, or one of his T-shirts… But the tank tops, old band t-shirts, jeans, the occasional midi skirt or low-cut blouse were so perfect for you. And Jesus Christ, the necklaces that you wore drove him mad. He loved when you wore more open shirts and they rested on your chest, giving him a little excuse to look down your shirt for a second. they perfectly accentuated your neck and jawline that he so desperately wanted to bury his face in. He fantasized sometimes about buying you a new necklace, maybe a choker or one that would land nicely in between your boobs, and help you put it on. The thought of seeing you wear something he bought you could’ve been his jerk-off material for the rest of his life for all he cared. He knew that if he had you to himself, all he would do is think about all the dirty things he would do to you- not that he wasn’t already doing that, but the fact that he could do those things to you would make him be unable to think about anything else

He was brought back to reality by you standing up and going inside, having entirely missed whatever it was you had said you were going to get. He sat perplexed for a moment until you walked back out the door with two popsicle packages now in your hand.

Oh. No.

“These will help cool us down for sure,” You said, holding out one of the white wrappers in your hand to a now ghostly pale Klitz.

Klitz swallowed hard as you handed him the frozen treat. He muttered out a quiet thank you before shuffling in his seat and gently opening the packaging and inspecting it in his hand. He wondered how big it was, maybe 4, 5 inches? Jeez, maybe he wasn’t as small as he thought he was.

You sat back down beside him, ripping yours open and staring at it for a second. Klitz tried to pretend like he wasn’t watching you, but it was obvious from the way his eyes continuously darted from his math book up to the rather phallic object about to be pressed passed your lips.

His breath hitched as you licked it from the base to the top. Already it was trying to drip from the way the sun was hitting it, causing a sort of urgency and hunger with your movements. You continued licking, cleaning up the dripping spots before returning to the top. you put it in your mouth, letting it pop as you pulled it back out again.

At this point Klitz wasn’t hiding that he was ogling at you. You looked so desperate and, while he hated the word, slutty eating it like that. He grabbed one of the papers off the table and tried to cover his bulging crotch nonchalantly, attempting to hide the now growing boner he was sporting. He weakly broke his eyes away from you and looked down at the book again, trying to remember through his now clouded brain what question you were on.

“Klitzy baby, why don’t you take your button-up off? It’s way too hot out here for you to be covered up like this.” You stuck your popsicle in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks to keep it from moving, and brought your attention to Klitz’s shirt.

His face burned. He loved it when you called him that. Eli had came up with the stupid nickname forever ago, but when you started calling him that he started to not mind it as much. He watched as the popsicle easily slipped into your mouth entirely, leaving just the end of the stick poking through your lips. His eyes practically glazed over at how full your mouth looked. Sheesh, if it looked this full with just that, imagine how full her cheeks would look with- He shook his head lightly to stop where he was going with that. He could think about that later, not while you were right in front of his already painful cock and about to touch him with those manicured, soft hands of yours.

“Uh- no i’m- it’s fine I don’t want to wrinkle it,” he stammered out. God, he sounded like such a fucking dork. But it was no use, your hands had already found their way to the buttons. You leaned forward, your face now at the level of his chest. After removing a few buttons, you looked up at him, trying to make eye contact after feeling his gaze on you. Locking eyes for a second, his pupils migrated as soon as he realized what he was looking at. Suddenly the tree behind you seemed really interesting. Was that a squirrel? Huh, did her mom get a new bird feeder? God she would look so good sucking my dick. I wonder where she would want me to come, in her mouth, on her face, her chest... I mean- shit. You unbutton the shirt the rest of the way, and rubbed his chest now only covered by his undershirt. He clenched his fists to keep from giving you a reaction, his knuckles turning white from how much strength he was using to keep himself together. you popped the popsicle out of your mouth again, flashing a smile at him.

“See? much better. if you hang it on the back of your chair it won’t get wrinkled. don’t want your mom to think we’re getting up to anything.” you winked, the insinuation practically making him groan. He would do anything to have a little secret rendezvous with you, just having you all to himself. Sure, he would much rather prefer that everyone in the whole world knew you two were together. Late at night he often imagined the way you’d hang on his arm like you did with your other boyfriends, and kiss him in the hallways in front of everyone. Usually PDA grossed him out, but the idea of you needing him so much that you were all over him in front of the whole school drove him crazy. Plus it would’ve made Eli insanely jealous. But he would settle for a secret if it meant that he had you.

All he could do was mutter another monotone ‘thank you’ as you leaned back in your chair and he removed his shirt the rest of the way, turning around to put it behind him and holding tightly onto the paper covering his fully erect friend underneath. He turned back around and looked down at some of the problems you had been working on to clear his mind. If there was anything that could make him soft, it was trigonometry. But then he noticed the little sounds you were making. The way your mouth sounded around the popsicle, your tongue swirling around it. the sloppy sounds of spit as you licked and sucked to prevent it from getting all over you. He could’ve sworn he heard you moan a little- no, he definitely heard you moan.

That’s when he realized his popsicle had totally melted all over his hands and his pants. A huge orange stain now resided on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. So much for his popsicle.

“Oh shit…” He mumbled, setting the remaining popsicle back into the wrapper and rubbing the stain with his non-sticky hand.

“Did you make a mess?” You giggled, finishing off the last bit of your popsicle with a bite.

He blushed hard. “Yeah, mind if I go inside and wash my hands?” He had already gotten up to hopefully get a second away from your performance. Maybe he could go in the bathroom real quick and rub one out.

“Wait, let me help you.” You smirked, gesturing for him to sit back down. He slowly but obediently sat back down in his chair, his brow furrowed at what exactly you meant by ‘help’ him. You loved that about him. He wasn’t like other guys who always wanted to be in control, or asked a million questions. He was okay with just listening, and actually doing what you say. 

You took his sticky hand in yours, leaning forward a little. You brought one of his digits close to your mouth, looking up at him with the most innocent eyes you could muster.

“Can I?”

Klitz couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t blink. And he definitely couldn’t respond to such a question without an embarrassingly pathetic and needy Yes, please please please please. He just gently nodded, his lips slightly parted in disbelief at the idea of the sight about to be displayed before him.

You smiled at his response, knowing the redness now on his cheeks wasn’t from the sun, but all because of you. You stuck your tongue out and slowly traced it from the bottom to the tip of his index finger, just like you did with the popsicle. You started maneuvering your tongue around, trying to get the entire finger removed of the sticky sweetness that once was the popsicle you gave him. His eyes watched as spit dripped down his finger and hand, now slowly trailing down his arm. Now satisfied with how clean it was, you moved on to the middle finger, then the ring finger, and finally his pinky and thumb. Licking them gluttonously with gentle slurping sounds and plenty of lustful looks up into his eyes, this time he was unable to break his eyes away. Then, for a grand finale, you slipped his first three digits into your mouth, now sucking on them gently and letting your cheeks hollow out. You never realized how long his fingers were and almost started gagging from their reach down your tongue.

Klitz couldn’t tell if he was in Heaven or Hell. He was watching his close friend who he’d wanted since he could remember do something more erotic to him than any porno or movie could’ve prepared him for. But all he could focus on was trying not to bust in his pants at how hot you looked with spit dripping down your chin and his fingers in your mouth. Eventually though you released his fingers, inspecting his hand to make sure you got all of the mess off of them.

“That clean enough for you?” You whispered, gently rubbing the back of his hand to your cheek.

“Y- yeah. Uh, thanks- I should probably go-“ He started, yanking his hand away and shoving papers into the pages of his book before closing it with his free hand.

“But you can’t go out with a stain on your pants like that, Klitzy baby. That’s embarrassing. Let me clean that up too.” You removed the paper from his lap, ignoring his now throbbing outline, and took his now spit covered hand and placed it where the stain was, gently placing pressure on it with your own hand.

Klitz felt dizzy and sick suddenly. A familiar feeling churned in the pit of his stomach, and he knew if you continued on like this he was going to cum. Hard.

You picked up his hand, the spit just making a vague handprint over the orange shape now in his pants. He sighed a little in relief, the pressure on his thigh lifting for a moment.

“Hmm, I think we need more spit. Here, this’ll make it easier.” Before Klitz could protest your head was now buried in his crotch, your wet tongue tracing along his clothed thigh. His dick jumped in his pants, and he was unable to hold back a quiet moan as you sucked gently on the stain. He looked down at the back of your head, now gently bobbing as you cleaned him. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. Before he knew it his hand was buried in your hair as he came in his pants, humiliatingly bucking his hips as he blew the biggest load of his life.

You sat up, content with your work, and smiled at him. That goddamn innocent smile after working him up like that could’ve made him cum again right there.

“Alright, there. I couldn’t have you going out like a mess… I’ll see you Monday, I guess. Oh, don’t forget your VHS tape you let me borrow last week on the porch, and tell your mom I said hi,” you smiled, getting up and walking back inside, trying to hold back your laughter at how cute and hot he looked unraveling for you like that. 

Klitz looked down at the now two giant stains on his pants- one yours and one his. He got up after gathering his stuff, took his shirt off the back of the chair and tied it around his waist to hide it so as to not embarrass himself any further and walked through the gate of your backyard out into the street. He couldn’t wait to get home to call Eli and tell him what just happened- or wake up. It all had to be a dream, right? Jeez, he was going to have to come up with something really good to get you back for this one.

[bratano]

begging paul dano writers to write more stuff for joby taylor on god

[bratano]

😅..

[bratano]

finished here ! not sure if its exactly what you wanted but it's cutesy lol

<<< forgot to add to the Alex Jones request, but with a GN!reader or possibly even trans masc? Thank youuu!

i've never written for alex before but i'm so excited to he's such a fucking sweetheart. and i would LOVE to make the reader transmasc, i'll post the link to the finished writing here when it's done thank you sm for the request

[bratano]

Alex Jones x Transmasc!Reader - Common People (Platonic)

A/N- hey hey. coming in hot with a little platonic alex jones moment. i adore him so. i'm thinking he's a little aged down in this, maybe like 21? but erm yeah, little jonesy. i've never written for him before so sorry if this is weird (also sorry but i wont write about him in an actual relationship lol the guy is mentally ten) so yep yep platonic. gonna write some more eli sunday fics and maybe a joby taylor one this week per your guys' request, but for now enjoy!

Summary- Reader and Alex go to the grocery store and get a little distracted.

Word Count- 1063

Warnings- swearing, lowkey kinda sad for no reason, kind of a flop but you didn't hear it from me

Alex had been a friend of yours since you were a kid. You remembered the day he moved in next door with his aunt like it was yesterday. Over the years you had been the only thing in his life that felt consistent. You were always teaching him new things and helping him grow, not sheltering him or trying to hurt him like his aunt or his uncle when he was alive. You took him out on errands that always turned into adventures, and always took him out to do things just to get him out of the house. You even taught him how to drive after his aunt vehemently refused. Things felt normal to him with you around. 

It had kind of become a ritual for the two of you during the summers you were home from college to bring him along on any errands your mom made you run. You needed the company and Alex was always home, and made an excellent partner. Today was no exception, as you had to go to the store to do some grocery shopping for your mom. You knew when you brought Alex with you you could get away with buying some nonessentials too, she could never say no to him.

The two of you walked along the concrete tiles while you pushed the cart. As per visit you handed Alex the grocery list, and he helped keep track of what you needed. You had accidentally made the mistake of stopping in the toy section, though, and Alex got distracted by the massive display of Hot Wheels. You stood back and watched as he went through each car, before finding one he liked and handing it to you.

“What? You want me to get you this?” You asked, looking at the red car wrapped in plastic packaging with the obnoxious label across the front of it.

“It’s yours,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“How is it mine?”

He shrugged. “It looks like you.” 

You laughed and held it up to him. “How does this look like me?!”

“It’s… Cool. A sports car.”

You raised your eyebrow. “You think I’m cool?”

He nodded, earning another laugh from you. “Alright. If I’m the cool guy, then…”

You started to look through the cars with him, eventually settling on a brown muscle car.

“You are… the tough guy.” You handed him the car and he looked down at it, a puzzled expression on his face.

“You think I’m… tough?”

“Toughest guy I know.” You slung an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close to you, causing the both of you to chuckle before you let go. He set them both in the cart next to each other.

“Can we…?”

“Well we have to get them now, don’t we? They’re us.” You grinned.

“They’re not on the list though. Will your mom be mad at us?”

“‘Course not. Just don’t let your aunt see it, okay?”

He smiled softly to himself. “Okay.”

That’s what Alex loved about you. You weren’t afraid to break the rules like he was. Half the time he didn’t even think breaking the rules was an option. But you always did what you felt like doing and coincidentally, what you felt like doing usually was what Alex wished he could do. 

You continued looking through the toy aisles, feeling Alex’s hand grab onto the back of your shirt. This was one of Alex’s many quirks that you couldn’t help but adore. Anytime you were out in public, he would always grab onto your sleeve or the back of your shirt to make sure that he wouldn’t get lost. It always made you smile feeling the gentle tug on your shirt when he felt like showing you something or wanted to remind you of something on the list.

You found yourself stopped in the LEGO aisle, looking at the vast array of options. From branded superheroes to fish tanks, it seemed like they had them all. You felt Alex’s hand release from your shirt as he went over to one of the sets and he held it up to show you.

“A dog?” You said, looking at the white and brown four legged creature on the box.

He nodded. “Like Tucker. Aunt Holly would like it.” 

“Let’s not talk about your aunt, okay? Get what you like,” you sighed

He frowned at your response. “Why don’t you like Aunt Holly, Y/N?”

You didn’t want to hurt his feelings but it was true. You hated that bitch. You hated the way she treated Alex. You hated the way she treated you because she thought you were a bad influence. You always thought there was something off about her, but you weren’t going to make your time with Alex about her. Away from her he could be whoever he wanted to be.

“I just… I just don’t, Alex. I don't really have a reason. No offense.”

You looked up at him, and he looked distant. Lost in thought. When he looked at you his face seemed contorted, like he had something to tell you, but he couldn’t come up with the words. He just looked down and nodded, putting the set back and looking at some of the other ones.

“Hey, this one looks like your RV.” You grabbed the RV set off one of the shelves and handed it to him. “Do you like that one?”

He looked at it and smiled wide. It was a rare sight to see him genuinely smile, not the kind with his lip corners barely turning up. But a full teeth, genuine smile. It made you feel like the only person in the world who had seen him like that, and it felt good. You could make him happy like that.

“Can we get this, too?” He handed it back to you.

“Yep. Wanna come have dinner with us and I can help you build it afterwards?”

He nodded earnestly. He loved coming over for dinner with you and your mom. She always made the best food, way better than his aunt’s microwaved meals she made him. Your mom always let him help too, even if it was just stirring the pot or peeling potatoes, he liked helping. He liked feeling useful for once. 

“Alright, but I get to put the wheels on.”

He huffed. “Deal.”

You cheered and the two of you left the aisle happily to continue your shopping.

[bratano]

thank you all so much for over 350 notes on all these things that i've done, seriously cannot thank you guys enough. and we hit 100 followers holy shit. i'm glad you little miscreants are enjoying my works, wouldn't be here without ya.