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joosthead · 3 months

Note

SMUT PROMPT 2 PLZZZ

just too soft for all of it || j.k. f!reader

₊˚⊹⋆ prompt(s): 2S) crying crying during sex that leads to a pause or early end to comfort and take care of whatever emotions bubbled over & 3F) gently pushing their hair behind their ear to see their face better

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader, no pronouns, reader gets referred to as his “favourite girl” one time. notfamous!reader lol also does not speak dutch

₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 4.4k

₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (fingering, piv), a good amount of negative self thought (i may have gone overboard—feeling inadequate as a partner, reader is very hard on themself and quite sensitive), mentions of anxiety/stress/being overwhelmed, a very fluffy and healthy joost :( aur i love him anyways, pls heed the prompt cuz that in itself is a content warning teehee, 🧀🧀🧀alert i can’t lie!!, a variety of dutch terms of endearment i'm not sure i’m using right but it’s for the sake of no y/n

₊˚⊹⋆ track of the fic: "sweet nothing" by taylor swift

₊˚⊹⋆ junote: i resonate heavy with this 🙃🙃 had the worst last few weeks of this uni year but i’m FREE!!!! thanks for requesting this, i combined this with a few other asks stated above! happy first juno joost fic to meee yippeee

rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it!! you've been warned. please do not repost this on any other platform.

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni.

To say the utter least—it had been a hard few weeks for you.

The whims of life carried you away like a tsunami to your normal routine—work and classes and friends and family and life, life that you couldn’t ignore or get away from like you wanted to do, nothing to do except doing it. And you’d been doing it, just fine for the most part, but one thing led to another, and the last week was a whirlwind of commitments, obligations, your procrastinating on all of them, somehow. You got yourself into a mess of your own making.

It certainly didn’t help that your boyfriend, Joost, was away for his own life: a festival performance in Canada, one in Belgium, one in the Netherlands but not one you could attend easily with all of the work you had for yourself. After that, he worked on the new album in Germany, putting the final touches on his 9th project, filming new content and preparing for his upcoming tour.

He left around the beginning of when your life started getting busier. If you added it up—23 days you hadn’t seen him in person, but it’s not like you were counting (you were counting, and sad the entire time about his absence.). It felt like the same amount of time you hadn’t even seen or talked to him, through the phone, on Facetime, even texting each other.

Voice memos in the bathroom at work, always apologizing for how rushed you had to be; leaving him on delivered for hours as you studied, or had an event you needed to be at, or had a person you needed to talk to, someone else who needed your time more than Joost needed yours, and it was too much. All of it was too much. Too much for you to handle easily, every second taken by someone else.

You felt like a terrible partner, not being able to speak to him as much as you wanted. Seeing all of his messages, the reassurance that he understands how busy you are and that in the end, you'll always make time for each other…his ability to be such a good partner held up next to your perceived inadequacy made you even more stressed.

In the end, it’ll all work out—today, Joost flew back home, though you still had a number of commitments and assignments to get to and couldn’t pick him up from the airport. Your mutual friend picked him up, and you bit your nails at every update given; willing the time to go slower so you could tidy up more, work on that one last piece of paperwork so you wouldn’t have to worry about it, make sure everything is perfect so Joost can have a good welcome back.

In the nick of time, you were able to get everything done, but it still felt as if there was something missing, like you'd be hit with a missed deadline in the midst of your time back together, and it would all come crumbling down.

As you opened the door, right as your friend pulled up to your street, you tried to put it aside, and you did—for now. Late afternoon and you stand at the top of your townhouse steps, watching in nervous excitement as Joost unloads his luggage from the trunk. Your friend closes the trunk and waves at you.

You wave back, but your eyes are on Joost as he gathers the two suitcases and starts rolling them to you in a sort of disorganized frenzy, just as excited as you are; you would come forward and help, but it’s cute to watch him, clumsy and stumbling over his long pants and tote bag and everything—your Joost, finally back with you.

He wears a heavy black jacket, sunglasses, a black cap that he takes off and shakes his hair out of; the sun shines off him, and you can't help but smile at the sight. His hair grew out a little, the darker blonde roots growing in. Those jeans are ones you’ve never seen before, new glasses, new clunky boots that look greatly uncomfortable but perfectly his style. Evidence of the time passed, and for some strange reason, it brings a pang to your chest that you try to ignore as you come down the steps of your house.

“Come here, come here, come here, baby, I missed you,” Joost exclaims, arms open and leaving his bags behind him to come meet you halfway, laughing.

You say as you hug him around his neck, his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t pick—”

“Don’t worry about it, I know you were busy.”

You nod as he moves his arms around your neck and you go around his waist, Joost pecking your cheek several times and making you laugh. “I still feel bad I couldn’t pick you up.”

“Never feel bad, you’d still be the best even if you left me on the side of the road.” You give him and his compliment a weak smile as you pull away.

—

The first time you get a moment to yourself in a month: Joost’s head lays in your lap as you both watch some cartoon on the couch together after eating.

You cleaned most of yesterday and some of today; you cooked most of last night since you knew you had more time, preparing Joost’s favorite meal—it was the best you could reasonably do, considering all of the other obligations you had in these last two days.

As he ate, you pushed around your own food; would’ve made it fresh, could've had a nice table setting for dinner, should’ve prepared more for all of this. You still gave him a sheepish smile as you watched him happily eat the microwaved meal you warmed up for him, no indication at all that he’s disappointed or unhappy like you are with yourself. You shouldn’t feel like this, but you do. It’s getting increasingly difficult to shake.

The colors and lines dance across the TV, spouting raunchy jokes that you can half understand with the few years of Dutch you have under your belt; the air conditioner is on, and you can finally rest. Joost is changed out of his airport outfit and into some shorts and a shirt. He’s home, and you did the best you could do, and now he’s in your arms again.

You don’t even mean to, but you sigh, perhaps louder than usual, because Joost looks up at you from your lap, brushes a lock of your hair out of your eyes, says, “You’re the best, you know?”

It catches you off guard enough that you shake your head almost instinctively, not fast enough to hide…whatever feeling this is you’re feeling. “I don’t feel like it, Joosty.”

“You don’t?” He gets up from your lap, sitting next to you, and brings his face close to yours. “You should, because you are.”

Your noses are brushing, and even in the midst of your racing thoughts, you can't help but smile at him. His face grows into a smile, and you come forward and kiss him, deeply; you know it takes him by surprise, how he takes a little to kiss back, like trying to learn each other again. Nonetheless, he kisses back, holding your face in his hands, grinning into it—he's so pleased, so content, you know it by how sweetly he holds you.

The TV becomes background noise to you, the air conditioner no use with how hot you feel when you move to sit atop him in his lap, one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your ass as you grind down on him, licking into his mouth.

“You're so tense,” Joost says when you pull away, thumbs rubbing into your back where there are sure to be knots in your muscles.

You roll your eyes. “Can you blame me?” you snicker and he smiles.

“I’ll relieve some tension for you, then.”

Nothing but a few layers of clothes separate you—he smells so good, tastes so good, feels so good that you pull away, run your hands underneath his shirt, feeling his warm body, his stomach. You move to take it off of him, and he’s a step ahead of you, taking it off himself and attaching his lips to yours again, like a magnet.

“You’re not wasting any time,” he says as you rest your hands on his chest and kiss down his stubble covered jaw to his neck, on top of Lola Bunny and back up again.

“I need you, Joost,” you breathe in between kisses, and he pulls back and groans which makes you giggle, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You can't just say that, oh my god,” Joost whines, looking up at you pathetically, pupils blown and lips swollen from yours. “That’s so hot,” he laughs, and it makes you laugh too, how ridiculous he is. “Fuck, I love you.” He comes back in for one more kiss before he shifts so you can lay down on the couch, and he's on top of you, kissing again. He helps you shimmy down your shorts, your underwear, and in no time—his hand is between your legs.

“I would have taken it slow but—I’m too excited,” he breathes. You palm his hard cock through his shorts, coaxing a sigh out of him. Joost hovers above, leaning on one elbow and using the other hand to run his fingers through your slit, wetting them with how aroused you are. Involuntarily, your legs twitch, your breath catches in your mouth, and Joost gives you a soft laugh. “You’re so sensitive, schat.” Fingers still touching you so gently, he noses at your cheek—you’re a hairpin trigger, how reactive you are to him. “Has it been that long?”

Breathless, you nod as he presses his thumb to your clit, petting at it. “Too long, I was waiting for you.”

“I could say the same for you.”

You sit up, pushing up against him, still kissing like you can’t bear to be separated from him, but he pulls back from you—brings two fingers to his mouth, wetting them with his spit, and the sight brings your heart to your stomach with how arousing it is.

Sure, Joost sends videos; yes, you have…homemade…videos of your own between the two of you; his deep voice through the speaker in your late night Facetimes, talking you through it or his incessant compliments when you send him some pictures of your own.

Nothing compares to the real thing—the smell of his cologne on his collar even after he’s taken a shower; his blonde hair in your eyes as he kisses you; holding onto his strong arms as he fingers you, the wet sound music to your ears though normally, it would make you sheepish at how filthy this all is.

Sometimes it makes you laugh that the random guy you met with a Crazy Frog tattoo on his forearm is now your boyfriend, but it feels so serious now more than ever. You realize now how much you’ve missed him, and how much you’ve pushed down that feeling in favor of everything else.

Joost crooks his fingers inside of you and you moan into his mouth, which he smiles at. “You like it?” he asks, both of you knowing the answer. He knows you so well, inside and out. Knows that spot inside of you that renders you unable to speak, how to hit it just right like it’s muscle memory to fuck you with his fingers. He rubs your clit at the same time, using his spit and your wetness to do so, and God—you wish never leaving this spot was an option.

Your climax fast approaches you; Joost kissing at the side of your lips, your chin because you’re too lost in your pleasure to kiss back. With a few more pumps of his fingers, he brings you there, a choked moan tumbling from your mouth as you cum, almost falling into him as he takes you through the last waves of your orgasm. “Thank you,” you breathe, pressing a deep kiss to his lips again now that you have the ability to.

“Thanking me? Nothing to thank me for,” he says, but you shake your head.

“I disagree,” you say quietly, palming over his erection once more now that you’ve gathered yourself. “I have everything to thank you for,” you think, but can’t say out loud. You move so you can be on your knees on the ground in between his legs. It’s been quite a bit, enough so that the program on the TV is completely different now, the AC has turned off—he’s still so hard, still hasn’t been taken care of.

You're about to lower his shorts, take him into your mouth, but Joost takes your hand and says, “Can we skip it? I wanna be inside of you, lieverd.”

Almost a whisper, you reply, “Whatever you want,” nodding, and he cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“You’re so quiet today. Is anything wrong?” He can read you like a book, the furrowing of your brow at his suggestion an easy giveaway.

“Nothing’s the matter,” you lie, but he still looks disbelieving. “I just wanted to give you something back.”

“This is something back and more, baby. Lie down.”

You do, too tired to argue for your side—the side that wants to give Joost everything you have and more, pay him back for the time you’ve been so absent, so distracted from your relationship and all the things Joost had been doing in the time away. It’s not as if you don’t want to lie down and have him fuck you—it’s just that you feel that you haven’t earned it yet.

Your body language gives you away—“Still so tense, lieverd,” he says, squeezing your shoulder as you adjust, legs on either side of his thighs. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Of course I do,” you purr, because of course you do, reaching into his briefs—Joost Klein branded, of course—and pulling his cock out, jerking it a few times and making him groan with the sensation. “You're so sensitive,” you quote him from earlier. “Has it been that long, schat?”

The pet name makes his cock twitch; a month away, hard work on his album and music videos, content and marketing, coming back home to his favourite girl gazing at him starry-eyed with a hand around his dick and ready to take him inside. If you peered into his mind, this is what he’d be thinking. No thoughts match your worried thinking about how you may or may not have let him down—you didn’t. That would be impossible, at least to him.

“Much too long.”

You rest your head on a throw pillow that Joost has laid for you, and he lines himself up with your entrance. Fingertips on his stomach, you stop him for a few seconds from coming forward, and you wrap your hand around his shaft, swiping it through your slit a few times, collecting your wetness and his pre-cum on the head of his cock.

Loudly, he swears in Dutch, and the latter half sounds more like a strangled whisper than any real word. “You…fuck, my god…you are evil,” he laughs, even though he’s now rubbing the head of it against your clit, making you mewl.

“You ready for me?” he asks, and you nod, licking your lips, trying to control your breathing. Your initial apprehension is long gone, though it could creep back every second—who cares? You’re finally together again. “You’re so wet,” Joost breathes as he eases the head of his cock into you. The stretch is something to get used to after so long away, but he gives time for you to adjust—seems like he might need it more than you do, how he sucks a breath in through gritted teeth, the snail’s pace he's going at. “I might cum right now.”

“You promise?” you tease, watching the slow slide of his cock inside of you, watching just like he is.

“I might have to promise with how this is going.”

“You can do it,” you giggle and then moan because he's managed to fit half of his length into you. “I believe in you.”

“Yay,” Joost smiles as he bottoms out in you, then gives you a kiss. “We did it!”

He holds his hand up for a high-five and you laugh—”I’m not high-fiving you while you're inside me.”

“When has that ever stopped you before?”

Rolling your eyes, you give him the high-five he so desperately wants and he beams at you with a toothy grin. “Never, I guess.”

“Never,” Joost repeats, and then straightens up. You look up at him through your eyelashes—his mullet is mussed from the tangles of your fingers through his hair, his chest moving steadily up and down with the exertion of this all. He moves your legs so your left ankle rests on his shoulder, the right wrapped around his hips.

His hand creeps up your shirt, and you do the rest, exposing your tits to him. Joost is normally so clumsy, so heavy-handed—what a contrast that he can be so calm dragging his fingertips around your nipple, making it pebble in the cold.

He cups your cheek after you moan, then runs his tattooed knuckles down it, slips his thumb between your lips and hooks it on your teeth momentarily—you chase it, but he continues down your chest and to your belly until his thumb is finally back on your clit and circling it slowly.

The drag of his cock out of you is wonderful, so wonderful it makes you shudder when he does it, combined with his terribly slow treatment of your clit.

“My baby, did you miss me?” Joost says softly, kissing at your calf, your ankle as he sinks back into you. The sensation robs you of a response, a sigh tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop it, but he takes it as a response enough. The smile on his face—the beauty mark under his lip, those deep dimples so prominent—you could never tire of it. “I missed you more, schatje.”

It feels so good, it feels like heaven being with him again. He comes back from such a busy time in his life, where you’ve done little, and all he has is praise and warmth and affection for you—fingers you within an inch of your life and doesn’t even ask for anything in return, just takes care of you in the way you need most.

You know that he benefits from this just as much as you do—this isn’t so one-sided. But your brain is so frazzled from this last month, the nerve endings fried and in want of a fuck up to cling to like they have been whenever you’ve made a mistake at work, in class, in your relationship.

Joost interrupts your thoughts: “I was so happy to see you on the steps, I could’ve sprinted to you if I wasn’t wearing those damn shoes.”

All of the times that you forgot to reply to Joost, getting a text saying your name and a sad face right after; the times where you were too distracted to give him your full attention and could only hum your acknowledgement to him, having to be reminded about what he said later; that one time just a few days ago you fell asleep on call with him in the middle of him excitedly speaking about a breakthrough with a bridge on the most important song of the album.

The pleasure you felt earlier is now overshadowed by your racing thoughts.

“I wrote a song about you, you know?” Joost says, his voice so gentle. I was only going to let you know when the album came out, but I can’t keep a secret.” Rocking against you, his pelvis rubs against your clit and it makes you cling to his shoulders. “The voice memo I sent you earlier—it was my first draft, just me. Did you like it?”

“You…you wrote a song about me?”

Only now do you remember the voice memo Joost sent you in the morning when you were still cleaning, the one that you saw and made a fleeting mental note to reply to later on, which you promptly forgot as you vacuumed, dusted, folded.

Such misplaced priorities, and now you're paying the sad price.

“Joost,” you say, eyebrows screwing up, that all too familiar pulling feeling behind your nose and eyes—you realize quickly that all of the emotions bottled up inside of you from the past month have come out with vengeance at the new knowledge of Joost’s song about you. The knowledge wouldn’t have been new if you just paid more attention.

You try to hold it back, pushing down the feelings again, but it just won’t work. All of it spilling over at the worst possible time, tears streaming down your face before you even know it. You fail to wipe the wetness from your cheeks—Joost stops his movements, asks in a panicked and concerned voice, “Oh my—are you crying, schat?”

Attempting to pull it together once more, you cover your face with your hands and shake your head silently, but your already sniffly nose sells you out. Your shoulders shake with your crying. Too far gone now.

“I wanted—“ you sniffle, and he hands you a tissue from the side table for you to blow your nose into as he stumbles out and off of you. “I wanted to be with you tonight, but I just—so much—I never—I never listened to your memo, I couldn’t, I had to finish so much before you got here and I couldn’t and I feel so bad, like, you wrote a song about me and I didn’t even have the time to listen—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Joost coos, brushing your hair out of your eyes as you sob. “Baby, please.” His expression is so concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he pats your back. “Wait, shit,” he says, getting up from the couch and looking down at his still bare bottom half. “Let me put everything back on, I’m sorry schatje, give me—“ In a hurry, he puts his underwear and shorts back on, tripping over himself and almost falling over. “I just can’t do this naked, I’m sorry.”

That brings a laugh out of you and a laugh out of him, and you start explaining as he sits back down next to you, rubbing your arm. “I don’t—I don’t deserve you.” You shake your head, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. “I should’ve listened to what you sent me, I should’ve been there more.”

“Bro,” he deadpans, beckoning you to come and sit on his lap.

You do, still trying to get the tears out of your eyes as you settle into his arms. “Shut up, don’t call me bro while I’m crying,” you laugh, voice weak but lighthearted.

“Bro. I will do it again.” Joost gives you a second to let it out more, to breathe as he smooths his hands back and forth on your back. “You did everything perfectly, lieverd. Perfectly. We were both so busy, and you still made time to call me and text me. I would have been lost without you, I know for certain.”

You shake your head. “I forgot to reply and pick up your texts so many times, Joost, I felt like such a bad person for doing so.”

“You did? I didn’t notice. All I cared about was that you replied. You’re not a bad person at all,” Joost says, and the sweetness of his words just make you want to cry more. “I appreciate more from you the effort that you put into everything, into what we have. Not what you couldn’t or didn’t do.”

“You’re so nice,” you whisper, sniffling. You can’t think of a better compliment with how overwhelmed you are, so you kiss him, instead, and he kisses back. Even with this, you can tell how gentle Joost is holding your cracked pieces back together.

“I’m nice?” he asks, smiling. “Best compliment I’ve ever gotten.” For a little, you both sit there in the silence together. “How about this—tomorrow, we can have a day to ourselves. You can lounge and study by the pool, and I’ll be your little butler or whoever and we can just relax for a bit, hm? Order food, drink, smoke, whatever.” Pausing, he grins. “We can even listen to the whole album, if you want.”

“You finished it?” you ask, sitting up more and incredulous. That’s complete news to you.

“This morning, right before I flew back here,” Joost says, nodding proudly. “I also texted you, but duty calls, no?”

“You texted me?” He texted you? And you missed it?!?!? Again, the new information makes you cry, and he holds you tight as you do. “You should be mad that I didn’t see it,” you say in between dry heaves into his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I could never be mad at you, lieverd, and I’m sorry I made you cry again,” he says, rubbing your back, petting your hair. “I just wanted to let you know when I did it—it was just a timestamp, that doesn’t mean you needed to know right that second.”

“But I wanted to know.”

“You know now, and I know how proud you are of me. That’s enough, that’s even more than what I wanted.” You trust him and his words so fully, every passing second with him is another way to help you feel better. “I love you,” Joost says your name so seriously, a punctuation to his love letter. “I mean it.”

“I love you too.” You kiss him, deeply, moments passing that you use to thank everything you can that he’s so good with your worries, your anxieties. “I’ll take you up on that offer for tomorrow, Joost,” you say, finally calmed down enough. Your eyes are incredibly bleary—you didn’t know that was possible. But at least you aren’t actively crying anymore. “Thank you for everything.”

“Thank you for giving me something more to look forward to, schat. Now—let’s go run a bath together and listen to my song for you.”

#joost klein #joost klein smut #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost x you #joost klein x you #joost #joost smut #joost fanfic #joost klein fanfiction #juno's fics #answered prompt #smut prompts #juno’s smut

611 notes · View notes

bunni-v1 · 8 months

Note

Okay so the traumatised!reader not forgiving Jamil was absolutely fantastic!

Would it be alright if I requested the same premise but for Riddle after his overblot (he did insult us, attacked us and was the very first to overblot)?

Overblot Trauma: Riddle Edition

TW: Mentions and discussion of PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Childhood abuse, and most things in that vain!; Swearing!; Mostly un-edited, this took too long to write lol

Info: Ace, Deuce, Grim, Trey, Cater, Riddle x Reader (platonic (especially in grim’s case)); gn!reader, unless I managed to fuck up!

🍓Hi. Yippie, new writing, I did it! Anyway, I went for a different approach than Jamil's part simply because... well... Riddle's whole scenario is completely different! Btw, I wanted to make it clear that I ADORE Jamil, and me giving Riddle forgiveness isn't a bias thing! I simply believe that this is how this scenario would go! Love you all, mwah!

Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing @roseinbloom02

Jamil Part

This year was going to be yours, at least it was supposed to be. You were the top of your class, the best in your field of study, and you had nothing but the best opportunities in your grasp. For once in your life, you were exactly where you wanted to be… until you weren’t.

A horse-drawn carriage wasn’t too big of a shocker for you. You knew that some farmers would try to socialize their horses by taking them through town. Maybe a bit odd for where you live, but you could accept it. Until it started coming straight at you, whinnying as it clomped toward you at Mach speeds.

You tried to outrun it, you really did. You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, but this horse was determined to ruin your life. And, oh god, did it.

When you woke up, it was dark and you could hear voices muttering outside your… box? You were convinced you had died, and this was your judgment day in the afterlife.

But no, it couldn’t be that simple, of course not. Instead, it was inter-dimensional travel, and you were now stuck in a Hogwarts-esque world with no way back home. You didn’t have any ruby red slippers to click you back home, not Toto to keep you comfortable. No, you got stuck with Grim who was anything but a comfort.

You wouldn’t let it ruin your perfect year, though.

You’d decided to make the most of your shitty situation. You cleaned up your awful dorm, befriended the little troublemaking cat, and even fitted your janitorial uniform so that it was more comfortable to wear.

Then… you meet Ace, and everything spirals. Again.

Statues caught on fire, chandeliers were broken, giant sludge monsters were fought, and unfair punishments were dished out upon you. That was fine! You could handle that! The monster in the mine was scary, but whatever, magic was going to be scary to you regardless. You could do this! You were going to handle everything life threw at you!

What you couldn’t handle, however, was Ace and Deuce’s tyrannical Housewarden: Riddle Rosehearts.

He was a selfish, entitled crybaby who had a stick shoved so far up his ass you wondered how he could walk without limping. All of his dorm members seemed terrified of him — except Ace, who also had the entitlement stick shoved up his ass, but this isn’t about him.

Riddle caused more than a handful of issues for you by kicking Ace and Deuce out — over a tart. Well, in Ace’s case, it was a tart. It was ridiculous, and it was more trouble than it was worth for you. More mouths to feed, more whining to hear, you couldn’t put up with it.

So you rush Ace and Deuce back to the dorm to find a way to apologize and end up meeting their far more responsible upperclassmen, Trey and Cater. The two of them were far more sympathetic to your position than Ace and Deuce ever were. You wished you’d managed to attract them instead of your bumbling idiots.

Still, they help you, and things are looking up for the idiot quartet… until they aren’t.

The tarts that Ace and Deuce worked so tirelessly on were mouthwateringly delicious. Marron tarts with extra chestnuts! If they weren’t for Riddle, you would’ve torn into those things!

Things were looking good, especially when Riddle seemed more than pleased to accept Ace’s forgiveness gift…

Then, Riddle, stick somehow shoved even further up his ass than before, blows a gasket because of some stupid arbitrary rule. Something about no tarts on the billionth day of the month… ugh. So stupid.

He tore into Ace, he tore into Deuce, he tore into you. He just kept going and going on and on like a little child. You can’t even blame Ace for punching him, you were about to do it yourself if he hadn’t.

But.. something was wrong. You expected Riddle to just scream louder, but this time he didn’t. He was quiet, and you could see that his face was twisted up in a mix of anger and pain.

The first thing you noticed was the smell. It was thick and suffocating, crawling down your throat like it wanted to rip your lungs out. Only when you saw the black sludge leaking from Riddle did you realize it was ink invading your senses?

You watched with your mouth agape, body trembling, as his body morphed in front of your eyes. The clean, well-presented Riddle you knew changed into a disheveled beast who could hardly be described as human.

He looked dead, with skin so sickeningly pale, and his body moving in a way that it really shouldn’t be able to.

He kept moving, and he kept talking and screaming, so he wasn’t — but no one's skin should be that grey. No one should be leaking ink in the first place.

The battle against him was a blur, you were simply running on instinct the whole time. Dodging, running, and throwing whatever you could to keep yourself safe. Still, you ended up with quite a few new scars and spent a sizable amount of time in the nurse's office.

Sure you got studentship for yourself and Grim, and yeah you helped Riddle overcome his trauma. You felt for him, you did. He was a good person at heart, and you wanted him to better himself and heal from the scars his mother left.

But what about you? What were you supposed to do now that you’ve been through that? What about your scars? What about the scars he gave everyone else?

Surely you couldn’t be expected to pretend that everything was fine?

Ace and Deuce

-Ace and Deuce hadn’t seen you in a good few days since the last tea party Heartslabyul held. -You being reclusive wasn’t much of a shocker, you spent a lot of time alone, to begin with, but disappearing for this long…?

-Now, it’s not like the three of you were absolute best friends at this point, but you had become pretty close up until now.

-Plus you’ve survived a lot of very scary experiences together… surely that meant something?

-It meant something to them.

-Still, you’d practically ghosted them and it was out of character for what they knew of you.

-Even when they were annoying the shit out of you, you still gave them a place to stay and helped them take care of themselves. You were kindhearted.

-Ghosting your (tentative) friends wasn’t exactly a good sign.

-So, them being themselves, they decide to come to pay you a visit at Ramshackle and wrangle some answers out of you.

-They were not expecting you to answer with tear tracks down your face and eye bags so dark they almost looked black.

-Ramshackle wasn’t any better either.

-You normally kept it so neat and tidy, but it was messy with clothes and dirty dishes scattered about.

-It was so weird to see you in such a state since you were so happy and full of life and determination before this.

-Then again, it did sorta make sense. You’d been through a lot in the past few weeks, expecting perfection wasn’t fair for anyone in your position.

-All of you had been through a lot, Ace and Deuce were just better at putting up with it than you.

-Grim didn’t seem to be much of a help either, clearly lost on how to handle human depression.

-Luckily, Ace and Deuce are willing to help.

-By help, I mean to annoy you, but they’re doing their best!

-Ace definitely pokes and prods at you a lot, and complains that you have to get up and go to class.

-It’s annoying, but you know he’s right.

-If he does take it too far Deuce is right there to put him back in line and assure you that you can take it at your own pace.

-The two of them are so sweet though, seriously. They help you clean up the place so that it's mostly back to its former glory (as much glory as ramshackle can have, of course).

-They walk you to class together every morning, even if you have ungodly eight ams. (You do hear Ace complaining a lot, though).

-They eat with you to make sure that you’re eating — and if you don’t eat with them, they come to your dorm with a full meal that they picked up for you.

-Most importantly, they keep you distracted from thinking about how horrifying the whole overblot was.

-The two of them need the distraction too, though they won’t admit it to you.

Grim

-Grim watches you go through everything firsthand.

-He lives with you, of course, he’s gonna see the rough stuff.

-He could tell something was off at the tea party, you just didn’t seem as involved as you usually were, but he brushed it off.

-He was more focused on eating as much food as possible.

-When you got back to the dorm, however, is when he noticed something was really wrong.

-Normally you’d take a nice long bubble bath, and the smell of your soaps would fill up the whole of your bedroom, but not today.

-You just fell onto your bed without a word.

-Still, it was a long day! Grim was pooped too, he wouldn’t wanna make up a bath either.

-Then you started to cry. You cried and cried and cried until you fell asleep.

-He didn’t know what to do, he never dealt with a crying human before!

-All he could do was curl up next to you and let you cry into his fur.

-You’d be better tomorrow, he told himself.

-But, nothing changed the day after that, nor the next, nor the next.

-By the third day of you laying around he was getting antsy. Would you ever cheer up, and could he help you at all?

-He’s grateful for Ace and Deuce coming around when you didn’t make it to classes that day.

-They explain to him, vaguely, what human depression is and how he can help more.

-Really, he isn’t able to do more than he’s already been doing, but you don’t need much more from him.

-He’s the perfect companion for you, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Cater

-Cater doesn’t know you, okay.

-He would love to get to know you! You’re quite a treat to be around, and you keep his pesky freshmen in line, so he does like you.

-Again, he doesn’t know you.

-He does, however, notice that at the little celebratory tea party, you are not doing too well.

-What he’s seen of you, you were a spunky bitch who didn’t take shit from anyone.

-But, here, now… you were quiet. You didn’t seem like you were really here with anyone in the room.

-He decided to keep a close eye on you, just in case.

-He noticed your symptoms, he’s lived your symptoms, so of course he’s looking out for you.

-Besides, the overblot scared more than just you — you just had a lot more to be afraid of than them.

-When Ace and Deuce wander back to the dorm complaining about how you skipped your classes for the day, a million alarm bells go ringing in his head.

-“Go check on them.”

“Cater- you were listening?”

“Hush, just go check on them! Now! GO!”

-Cater is not your friend at this point, the two of you are acquaintances at the very most, but he knows that you need someone there for you.

-Please excuse him for assuming, but he doesn’t think Grim would cut it.

-He also talks to Trey and Riddle about it all too.

-He knows that you and Trey are closer than he is with you and that he’s more likely to be of help than Cater is.

-Tells Trey to make you sweets that Ace and Deuce can give to you. Also give him advice on what to say in case you seek him out — especially since he’s closer to Riddle, you’re more likely to go to him with your worries.

-However, Cater does not expect you to seek him out.

-He was so busy working overtime behind the scenes keeping everyone together that he didn’t even think that he was part of the equation.

-You sought him out simply because he wasn’t Trey or Riddle.

-Trey would be more sympathetic to Riddle and Riddle was the core of the issue. But your reliable Senpai Cater? Surely he’d be more logical about this.

-You figured that he had something to do with everything since Ace and Deuce don’t seem emotionally intelligent enough to help you with something as sensitive as trauma.

-First you really just want to thank him for his help, but as you talk to him both of you just break.

-You, because you hadn’t really been able to talk about what you’ve been through. Cater, because he put everything on his shoulders as if it was up to him to fix it all.

-It’s therapeutic, to just cry with someone over the horrible things that you’ve been through together.

-You sort of become each other's rock when it comes to recovery.

Trey

-Trey is the backbone of Heartslabyul.

-I know we give him shit for being boring and normal, but he’s the reason anything keeps functioning around his dorm.

-He needs to be normal, because if he can’t keep a level head, who will?

-Sevens, he’s having a hard time now though.

-Riddle is going through his own issues, coping with the fact that he confronted his traumas head-on and hurt so many people doing it.

-Ace and Deuce were the core of the issue, and he could tell that neither of them was ready to deal with whatever feelings they’d been feeling.

-He can’t even lean on Cater like he normally does, because Cater is running around like a madman trying to ignore his own trauma.

-So… It’s just Trey, and he’s having a hard time figuring this shit out because he needs time to cope.

-He doesn’t get the chance to, though, because he has to be there for Riddle more than anyone.

-It’s not like he doesn’t want to be there for him, they’re best friends, but Sevens Trey is exhausted trying to get things back to where they were.

-You don’t even cross his mind in the chaos until Cater asks him to make you those marron tarts you seemed to love so much.

-You must be going through it.

-As he bakes them up for you (making some extras for his dormmates), he thinks about how hard this must’ve been on you.

-You’re not even from here. You were just trying to help out, and you nearly lost your life because his best friend couldn’t control his temper.

-You didn’t deserve that. No one did.

-He was supposed to give the tarts to Ace and Deuce, but after his thinking, he figured it was better he went to see how you were doing himself.

-The older brother in him couldn’t stop the worry from taking over now that you were on his mind.

-He knew that Ace and Deuce got you going back to your classes, and you weren’t so scared that you never came to Heartslabyul, but he wanted to make sure.

-When you open the door you look tired, but light up at the sight of the treats in his hands.

-While you and Grim are chowing down on the snacks he made, you two talk.

-Trey finally, finally, gets to talk about how he’s been feeling — because you are so sweet and so kind that you want to hear how he’s been.

-He gets to tell you how tired he is, how he feels as though he can’t allow himself a moment to deal with his own thoughts, how worried he is about everyone. How angry he was at Riddle, and how happy he was that Riddle was changing.

-It’s cathartic to get it all out, but he feels guilty for dumping it all on you.

-He was here to check on you, not pour his heart out.

-But, you tell him that you wanted him to talk to you about it. Ace and Deuce pretend like it never even happened, so to hear someone else be just as angry about it as you felt good.

-The two of you spend a lot of time together that night — Grim is there too, but this isn’t about him — and both of you feel like a weight is lifted off your shoulders afterward.

-Both of you make plans to bake something together later that week.

Riddle

-Riddle is going through it, okay.

-Not only is he dealing with the physical ramifications of his body twisting around in ways that it really shouldn’t, and the long-term lung issues he’s going to have thanks to all the ink.

-He’s also dealing with the fact that he acknowledged how awful his mother — whom he’d idolized — truly was.

-How awful he was because of her, and how many people he hurt because he wouldn’t face the music soon enough.

-Still his life didn’t stop. He still had to ensure that he was fulfilling his duties as a houswarden, and he also had to continue tutoring and running the equestrian club and his own coursework.

-His way of coping with his issues is that he works himself to death.

-Sure, he does take time to tell Trey how he’s feeling, and he has spent many sleepless nights in his room crying, but he’d rather be working than doing that.

-So he does. He works and he works and he uses his work as a punishment for himself because he does not deserve a break after what he did.

-He has to make up for the horrible things he’s done to people who simply did not deserve it.

-He’s so busy working that he forgets to make it up to the person that matters most.

-You and Riddle aren’t exactly avoiding each other, but you certainly aren’t seeking each other out.

-You know that Riddle was going through a lot and you’ve already forgiven him at this point, but you haven’t found the strength to seek him out yet.

-The both of you just happen to bump into each other in the kitchen of Heartslabyul. (Courtesy of Trey and Cater!)

-You were waiting on Trey (he promised he would make some sweets with you today), and Riddle walked in (he was also promised sweets).

-It was… awkward, to say the least.

-What do you say to the guy who traumatized and nearly killed you and your friends?

-What do you say to the person who you nearly killed?

-Well…

-“I’m sorry,” Riddle finally said, snuffing out the awkward silence, “I allowed myself to become so angry, and I hurt and scared not only you but myself. I don’t know how anyone could ever forgive me, but I am truly sorry.”

You stayed quiet, mulling over his words. You knew he was sorry, from the way he’d looked at you since his blot. You could only begin to imagine what he was dealing with in his head this whole time. How harsh he must’ve been on himself since the incident — and isn’t that what started this whole thing in the first place? His unnecessary harshness? He shouldn’t be so hard on anyone, especially not himself.

So, you being you — forgiving and understanding — you sigh and place a hand on his arm. He looked at you, shocked at your gentleness.

“It’s alright, Riddle. Sure, you really scared the shit out of me, and yeah I’m still kind of scared of you, but I know you’re a good guy. It’s not your fault that you’ve been through such awful things.”

-You made him cry.

-Good tears though! Happy tears! It’s the first time he felt seen in a very long time, and he promises you that he’s going to change for the better.

-To his credit, he does start to make those changes, and he does so very quickly.

-He begins to be more open with his friends, and he’s more relaxed about the very stupid rules that he used to enforce.

-He goes out of his way to talk to you specifically at this time too. He offers to become your tutor (which you desperately need, since Crewel is well… cruel.), and you two grow surprisingly close!

-You bond over how much stress Ace and Deuce cause you, and Riddle learns how to socialize like a normal person from you.

-(You surprise him with just how popular you are, despite being essentially bottom of the barrel at NRC. He has much to learn!)

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁#riddle rosehearts #cater diamond #trey clover #ace trappola #deuce spade #grim twst #ace trapolla x reader #deuce spade x reader #cater diamond x reader #trey clover x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader

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froggibus · 1 year

Text

The Death of Peace of Mind - Stu Macher! Ghostface

Pairing: Stu Macher! Ghostface x f! reader (reader uses female/she/her pronouns + has a pussy), Billy Loomis! Ghostface x f! reader (at the end), Billy Loomis x Stu Macher

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2k

Summary: after finding out your boyfriend is the masked killer who’s been plaguing Woodsboro, you only have one request—you want him to take out his darkest urges on you

CW: Dark content ahead!!! dubcon, knife play, blood play, bondage (use of handcuffs and blindfolds), Stu cuts reader, bloodloss, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex (yk what im gonna say), creampie, Stu chases you with a knife, exhibitionism/voyeurism, mentions of a threesome, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

incredibly self indulgent fic of my favorite Ghostface & the idea of being railed by him <3 this is a bit darker than what I normally write lol, also very tempted to write about getting railed by both Billy & Stu now

update ish? self indulgent part 2 w both Stu and Billy here

————

The minute the phone rings, the blood rushes to your ears. The entire town of Woodsboro had been warned against answering calls from unknown numbers after what happened to Casey and Steve. You weren’t worried, though.

Why fear the boogeyman when the boogeyman is the only person who makes you feel safe?

Stu always insisted on never letting you see the darker parts of him, on never sharing the weirder things he was interested in. He wanted to protect you from himself and the fucked up things he wanted to do to you. That all changed this morning when you stopped by his house to make sure he was awake in time for school, and saw the Ghostface mask in his closet.

You had grabbed it and tossed it at him, forcing him to explain himself.

The boy had stuttered over his words before he finally confessed: he was the one who had been killing people all around Woodsboro. Even more surprising than that was that he had a partner. Everyone, even the police, had only suspected one person was doing it.

He mumbled countless apologies, begging you not to leave him and begging you not to tell anybody or else ‘he’ would be mad. In all of his grovelling, though, he never mentioned who his partner was.

You cut him off. “Is this the dark stuff you didn’t want me to know about?”

He nodded slowly, tips of his ears burning red.

“Stu, I’m not going to tell anyone,” his head snaps up at your words, eyes lighting up. “But I have one condition.”

“Anything.”

You take a deep breath, biting your lip. “I want you to lose control. Do whatever you want to me, just let go. Don’t worry about whether I like it or not…just, show me those parts of you.”

“Y/n…”

“I mean it, Stu. Please?”

He’s reluctant to give in. He knows he would never hurt you, at least not severely, but the thought of showing you who he really is and what he wants to do makes him shiver. He doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like you do now.

Still, he gives in. He tells you to go home and relax, and maybe stock up on first aid supplies.

The thought of what he’s going to do to you fills you with excitement.

And now you’re sitting next to the ringing phone, knowing when you answer it that things will never be the same.

You press the phone to the side of your face, the cold buttons raising goosebumps on your skin. “Hello?”

“Hello, y/n.” The voice on the other end is deep and raspy, so masculine it has you clenching your thighs together.

“Who is this?”

Stu can’t help but smirk on the other end of the line. You’re playing the part of the innocent, dumb victim perfectly, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on. God, the things he wants to do to you.

“You tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine,” he responds.

“I don’t think so.”

You lay down on your back on the couch, playing with your hair, with the collar of your shirt, anything to keep you focused on the man talking in your ear.

“Come on,” he almost growls, “why don’t you tell me your name?”

You can’t help but giggle at the frustration in his voice. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I want to know who I’m looking at.”

You suck in a breath. Smooth, you think. If you were anyone else, if you actually thought there was a chance he would kill you, his words would make you freeze. But tonight, all they did was make you shiver in anticipation.

You can feel your underwear soaking through with your arousal, your whole body warming. “L-looking at?”

Stu almost laughs at the way you nervously stutter. You sound so cute, so innocent…he really can’t wait to ruin you. He stifles his laughter from inside the closet.

“You heard me,” he says. “Don’t you want to know where I’m hiding?”

“You’re…you’re inside?”

A wave of fear washes over you. How had he gotten inside without you noticing? Is this how he had gotten to Casey, too? You hate how much it turns you on to think that he’s been here the whole time.

“Take a guess, come find me.”

Stu watches through the crack in the door as you stand from the couch with that puzzled look on your face. You spin around, the phone still pressed to your ear.

“What happens if I find you?”

Stu stays silent for a minute, watching you look around the living room to find him. Just as you get to the closet, your palm resting on the handle, he responds.

“I get to see what your insides look like.”

He pushes the closet door open and shoves you against the wall. You squeak, letting the phone clatter to the ground. Stu grabs your wrists in one of his hands and pins them above your head.

His other hand reaches for the knife in his waistband, holding up at eye level so you can see it. Your heart speeds up, your arms shake, your knees threaten to buckle.

He presses the knife at the centre of your collarbone, just above where your t-shirt begins. You can feel the sharp tip press into your skin, just enough to cause a bead of blood to roll down your chest.

“The things I’m going to do to you,” he breathes.

You almost call his name, but you know he’s not your boyfriend right now. You know he needs to let go, and part of that is to let go of himself, too.

He drags the knife down, cutting into the fabric of your t-shirt. He applies just enough pressure to easily slide the fabric, but not enough to actually hurt you. Still, you can feel the cool metal on your bare skin and it causes you to whimper.

Stu groans. You’re being so good for him, standing so still and just letting him do what he needs to do. He digs the knife into the soft fabric of your shorts, taking his time in slicing them down the middle.

Both pieces of fabric fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear in front of him. “I-I—” you’re not sure what you’re trying to say, but the words won’t come out regardless.

“I-I-I,” he mocks, holding the blade against your throat. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

You whimper and kick against him, your knee grinding against the bulge in his robe. He drags the knife just above your collarbone. He presses in hard, hard enough to draw blood.

The warm blood leaks down your chest, dripping down your stomach and your underwear. The slight sting makes you whine even more and rub your thighs together.

He releases your hands. “Run,” he whispers.

You don’t waste a second in obeying him. As soon as your feet are on the ground, you’re tearing away from him. You can hear him walking at a leisurely pace behind you, laughing mockingly. Something about him chasing you, cutting you…it’s overwhelming, it makes your head fuzzy with pleasure.

You run up the stairs, turning away as soon as your feet meet the plush carpet of the landing. You turn around, only to see that he’s gone. You suck in a breath. Where could he have gone?

Arms wrap around your waist, a knife pressed into your side. “Got you.”

You squeal, kicking against him. He’s much stronger than you, though. He pushes you against the wall, using it as leverage to lift you up.

You wrap your legs around his waist and let him carry you to your bedroom. He tosses you onto the bed, slamming the door behind him. You squirm, your sheets staining with the blood that dripped down your body while you ran.

You look up at him with those damned eyes, blinking slowly. His robe is stained with your blood, the knife in his hand slick with the red.

He crawls on top of you, yanking your underwear off and tossing them into the corner of the room. Your pussy is soaked as it is, but your blood has started to run into the juices, and the smell is fucking intoxicating.

He moves his face between your legs, the white mask looking up at you. You whimper and roll your hips against his face, staining the white with your red.

He tears off a strip of fabric from his robe and ties it around your eyes. “No looking,” he orders.

He tilts the mask up just enough so that his mouth and nose are out before licking up the blood from your thighs. You taste just as good as you smell, and it only makes him want more. He flicks his tongue across your opening and you whine, bucking your hips against his face.

He goes to work licking and sucking at your clit. He’s drunk from the taste of you, and all he wants is more. He presses the knife against your thigh, digging it in hard enough to draw blood. The pain in your thigh mixed with the pleasure in your core has you crying out, forcing you over the edge.

You finish hard, your slick coating his mouth and nose. He doesn’t stop, though. He keeps eating you out like you’re his last meal.

“P-please,” you whine.

“Please what?”

“Stretch me out, ruin me, just…please?”

Your breathless begging is so fucking cute that he can’t hold back anymore. He pulls the mask over his face again, laying on top of you. He pulls out a pair of plain metal handcuffs, and gets to work securing them around your wrists. He does it tightly enough that it digs into the skin and makes it impossible to escape, but not tight enough to be painful.

You struggle against the restraints, unable to see or feel him now. He shuffles against you awkwardly, pulling his cock out of his pants. He’s already rock hard, the tip coated in precum.

He lines up the head at your entrance and shoves his way inside. He’s so perfectly sized, always stretching you out perfectly. You whine, instinctively going to reach out for him before remembering the restraints on your wrists.

His thrusts are desperate and needy. All he wants, all he needs, is to bury himself inside of you. To fuck you like he needs to and absolutely ruin you.

“F-fuck,” you stutter out, forcing your hips against his to meet his thrusts.

His hands grip your waist tightly, his mouth hovering over your pulse point. He licks up the remaining blood from the cut on your collarbone, and the copper taste on his tongue only drives him to fuck you harder.

The way you're so wet for him, just from him cutting and fucking you. Hovering above you, fucking you like it's the last time, he's never felt more content. It's like the darkest parts in you pacify the darkest parts in him, and that's all he's ever needed.

You can feel yourself getting close, your muscles contracting with every deep thrust. You feel slightly lightheaded, but you’re not sure if it’s from your last orgasm or the blood loss.

Stu holds you closer, his body collapsing onto yours as his thrusts get sloppier. You know he won’t last much longer, either.

You squirm, bucking your hips to try and get him as deep as possible. He hits that sweet spot one more time and you come undone, your muscles spasming around him. Your pussy clenches around his cock and that’s all he needs to spill hot cum deep inside of you.

Your head rolls back, your body going limp. Stu pulls out, kneeling on top of you. “Think you can go another round?”

“C-can you?” You breathe heavily.

He reaches his hands around the back of your head to remove the blindfold. It takes a minute for your eyes to focus, fixating on the masked man above you.

“Not me,” he grabs your jaw in his hand and turns your head to the corner, where a man in an identical costume stands. “Him.”

“Him?”

The masked man steps forwards, slowly pulling the mask from his face. Billy Loomis is smiling at you like the devil, “hello, y/n.”

He pulls the mask back on, coming to rest on the bed next to Stu. Both of the Ghostface killers have their eyes fixated on your bound, writhing form on the bed.

“I think she can do one more,” Stu says.

“I think so too. I think she could take both of us.”

“B-both of you?”

Neither boy acknowledges you, too busy talking as if you’re not laying right in front of them. God, they’re going to be the death of you.

#ghostface x you #ghostface #ghostface smut #ghostface x reader #ghostface x female reader #stu macher ghostface #billy loomis #stu macher #stu macher x female reader #stu macher x you #stu macher x reader #Billy loomis ghostface #Billy Loomis x reader #scream x reader #scream smut #scream x you #scream #x you #x reader

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fridgrave2-0 · 9 days

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Do you think Calhoun and Felix are endgame or Felix and Turbo? For example, if there was any kind of possibility Turbo could come back, would they get back together because of unresolved feelings or would or be an aggressive side eye situation? lol

if we take a situation where turbo is mostly forgiven by others and goes through his therapy arc, then actually think of poly

turbo would hate the idea of being around felix 'cause he still has to process the whole "he turned me into a boogeyman" thing, so he always reminds himself that he shouldn't be jealous bc of calhoun, he doesn't want this fixing piece of shit anymore (he does, but he lived with this anger on felix for 25 years so he can't just let go). turbo actually tries to interact with calhoun when felix isn't around and very soon he understands that she's actually very cool. he's been through some shit between roadblasters and sugar rush period, still feels a lot of regret and pain about turbo twins and can relate to calhoun's loss more than anyone else in the group. and, well, the whole cybug thing also adds to it. as much candybug felt excited about becoming this mutant, it was a lot from the bug perspective, and when turbo got the full control over his mind and body the terror did hit him like a bus. tamora was able to give him the understanding of cybugs, and he shared how he felt when he was eaten. "it wasn't painful or anything, at least i don't remember the pain. but i didn't feel like myself anymore, like i was under players control again, and any attempt of taking the control back just felt so wrong." it was something tamora needed, many years she lived with doubt. did her fiance even had a chance of being the man she loved after being eaten, or it would just be a monster with a familiar face. now this burden fell off her shoulders. she wasn't the one who killed him, the cybug was

turbo saw a lot of himself in calhoun. this need to keep the front all the time, to stay in control, to hide most of the emotions and do not look weak. and just like with him, she began to open up because of felix. turbo wanted to warn her, say that he already got burned by felix's light, got too close and paid for it. but keeping the distance with fix-it actually helped turbo see the whole picture, and felix seemed different now. and it shouldn't be surprising, people can change in 15 years of which he didn't see felix. maybe it was calhoun's job, or an experience of almost being unplugged, but fix-it looked almost sad everytime turbo was coming up with an excuse to avoid him. turbo learned his lesson. why did he felt so bad seeing an unspoken remorse in felix's eyes?

tamora was the one, who made them talk after too much time of walking around and playing hide and seek. in last months turbo taught himself to apologize and be genuine about it, and he was ready to do it, but with felix everything goes wrong, as always. this was exactly what fix-it wanted, it has always been like this. when turbo apologized, that was making felix in the right, no matter what was the reason. he knew felix saw the world in black in white, and that means always there's the one who's right, and the one who's wrong. and my any means turbo never was a perfect or even a decent person before, and he doesn't think so of himself now just because he realized his bad actions and said sorry couple of hundreds times. being eaten by a bug and burn in lava makes you reconsider a lot of things. but he knew he wasn't the only one who was wrong, and the idea hearing it again from felix was the worst. so turbo bit his tongue and kept his apologies

...only to hear felix saying "i'm sorry" for the first time in 30 long years. turbo didn't think it was possible, but here he was, sitting in niceland with silent but proud looking calhoun by his side while felix was pouring out his soul. apologies mixed up with tears - turbo knew that felix always cries when he gets too emotional - and felix just talked and talked for ten minutes straight, not seeing how the tension was leaving turbo's body. he relaxed, listening to felix not with a sense of triumph, but with a bit of fun. couple of times he turned to look at tamora only to see her sharing this look with him, and suddenly everything just became so simple and trivial that turbo made felix stop talking by pulling him into a hug. he wished for his apologies for 30 years, and now when he got them he didn't want to listen to it. because what was the point? turbo got the point in first two minutes, he knew felix was feeling sorry, and to list all their mistakes and bad choices would take too much of the time they had already lost

"i got the jist, big idiot, you didn't have to write a whole essay about how sorry you are", turbo said with a grin and heard felix chuckle. then he sighed and hid his face in felix's shoulder, still uncomfortable with being so open. "but thanks... i'm sorry too, y'know?"

turbo felt how felix relaxed in his arms

"yeah, i know, little idiot", felix replied, and for the first time in decades turbo felt like home. while he was keeping his face in felix's shoulder and breathing the familiar smell of pie and brick dust, felix looked at his wife, who seemed unusually soft, and uttered without a sound small "thank you". after all, without her they wouldn't ever try

#one day i won't write a fucking fanfic as a reply but damn i'm having a lot of thoughts #they are gaslight girlboss gamejump trio #turbo #turbotastic #sergeant calhoun #tamora calhoun #fix it felix jr #80s boyfriends #hammertastic #hero's cuties #idk how to call turbo and calhoun's duo #gimme your ideas #wreck it ralph #wir au

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callistosposts · 4 months

Note

I HATE HATE HATE how people have been treating the Saturnian moons on TikTok and just in general now. In “Saturn gets his moons back” THEY WERE rushing him through their introductions, but he himself didn’t ask before if he could take notes or anything in between. Also he could’ve just…asked in the middle of it for a break or just talk over them since we know he doesn’t really have a problem with that-

I know that 146 moons is a lot to memorize but you know Saturn’s had like 4 billion years to AT LEAST get to know his biggest ones. Like Jupiter at least knows the main four and some basic facts about them. Saturn doesn’t even know the facts about Titan💀💀 HIS FAVOURITE!! He doesn’t have surface level knowledge of his neighbours

And also about the people saying that “oh Saturn must have memory issues🥺🥺” NO THEY DO NOT I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT EVER!! Unlike Neptune or even Earth for that matter, up until this video no one had even a whiff of that headcanon because no stuff in the show points to this. This is just straight up people pulled out their ass to believe that Saturn is still completely good

Just yeah, I do still like C!Saturn but I side with his moons way more even if his moons other than Titan are a bit shallow. It’s great that he’s making progress as shown through the end of the episode but people VILLAINIZING the Saturnian moons just because of that just pisses me off so bad.

Sorry for the rant I just got inspired from one of the other asks lol

never apologize for ranting ur so real for all of this

i hate that people are villainzing saturns moons as well!!!! litearlly all they ask for is for saturn to at LEAST know their names , imagine if you had a parent/friend/whatever that just didnt know your name !!! that would make you upset as well!!!!

plus these mfs dont work by human concepts, "how can he remember 146 names" HES A PLANET . !!!!!! and even if they worked by human mental standards, he should at least be able to get the main ones!?! and he surley doesnt have bad memory cause he remebered GANYMEDE - a moon thats not even his ?;?!;!

i see a lot of people sympathizing with saturn based on this episode but tbh it kinda helped my malicious saturn agenda even more 😭 his ass doesnt even know basic facts about his favorite moon !!!! hes clearly never tried to even interact with these moons normally before, he just sees them as . rocks . which is technically what they are but in the context that they have humanity and can talk / have feelings / etc is FUCKED!!!!

#solarballs asks

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meaningofaeons · 1 year

Text

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ drunken confession

⊹ character(s) - kaveh ⊹ word count - 1.1k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort (for kaveh lol), kaveh gets drunk and basically whines to reader, reader is a lil blunt/stoic at times and is implied to be some kind of artist/have some understanding of artistry and such (and is also implied to be fairly affluent), fic is implied to take place sometime after the hangout (like after the traveler visits him in the tavern but they don't go anywhere ofc)

this idea sprouted up while I was playing kaveh's hangout quest so I had to rush something out for the loml.... kaveh ilysm (^≗ω≗^) SORRY THE ENDING IS KINDA CLICHE TOO I am cringe but free

"These clients think they can just... boss me around! All because they have plenty of Mora to throw about! I'm the architectural expert here, they don't know the half of it!"

The man across from you shouted freely, waving around his latest glass of wine as he vented his woes. Normally, this would warrant a hushing and an apology to the nearby patrons... but if you were honest, this was his regular drinking spot, and all the usual tavern-goers already knew of Kaveh's habits.

You, meanwhile, nursed your own glass of the same, glancing over at your companion.

"I know, Kaveh. You've told me that about the last..." You counted on your fingers. "Three clients you've had."

"Just goes to show nobody understands art like we do in this city!" Kaveh slurred, downing the rest of his drink as he slumped onto the table, burying his head in his arms. You eyed him concernedly.

Isn't that his sixth one?

"I think you've had a bit too much to drink," you pointed out, sighing as he waved over the tavern owner, deaf to your words. "Again."

"Nonsense." Oh, so he did hear you. "You know that the only thing that can make me feel better after a belligerent client is drinking until I have to be carried home..."

"Yet you have the gall to lecture the Traveler on the health issues caused by drinking."

"I just warned them a bit!"

"Hm."

Kaveh peeked up at you through his fingers, red eyes boring into your own. The beginnings of a pout formed on his lips, and you had to look away before he tried his puppy-dog eyes on you.

"You're so cold, Y/N... not even a bit of consolation?" he whimpered, his befuddled mind trying to appeal to your pathos in a way his composed self would never dare try. He'd be apologizing over and over for his childish behavior come tomorrow, you surmised. "Can't you comfort me?"

"I would only sound redundant. You come to me about the same problem every time we drink, so it's only natural that my advice would become repetitive."

"You sound like Alhaitham." The grumble in his voice was far too obvious.

"At least I have an artist's mindset and don't stew in books all day long."

"Hardly matters when you talk just as calculatingly as an Akademiya scholar..."

You heave a sigh. Banter wasn't going to make Kaveh feel better—if it did, he'd get along with Alhaitham far better. You opted to wave Lambad over, requesting a glass of water and the bill. You were also quick to shut down Kaveh's attempts to request a seventh glass of alcohol, promising a hefty tip if the tavern owner didn't bend to his whim.

The architect once again shot you a pout, but you merely moved to his side, rubbing circles onto his back as soothingly as you could manage. His crimson eyes began to droop at your actions.

Lambad offered you the water, and you offered him a hefty pouch of Mora, which he gladly took as he bid you farewell. You pushed the cup to Kaveh's lips, and he shot you a look.

"I can drink it myself... I'm not a child."

"You were acting like you had to be coddled like one only moments earlier. Shall I leave you to stumble home by yourself?"

"No! No... You're so mean," he sighed, downing the glass. It seemed to help him regain his bearings, even if only slightly. "Remind me to send you the Mora for my half of the bill later..."

"More like your three quarters," you joked, nudging him as you helped him to a stand. "Don't worry about it. I'll cover tonight's bill."

"But—"

"For a man in debt, you sure do seem keen on losing money." When he glared at you, you chuckled. "Sorry. Low blow."

"Hmph."

"Come, now. How about we go take a seat on the Divine Tree, overlook the docks for a bit? I don't suppose you want to get back to a scolding from Alhaitham anytime soon."

"Yeah... sounds good."

That's how you ended up leading Kaveh to a small root (well, small in comparison to the rest of the Divine Tree), sitting beside him and placing an arm around his shoulder to keep him upright.

He pillowed his head on your shoulder without much reservation, another byproduct of his liquid confidence.

"Have you ever thought about taking a break? I don't think I've seen you look this tired in a long while, Kaveh."

"I would, but you know... Bills to pay, groceries to buy... Not a day goes by that I can live without Mora," he sighed.

"What if I treated you to a vacation in Fontaine? I have some work to complete there. You could relax for a week or two, take your mind off of everything."

"I appreciate the offer... but I'd feel like I'm shirking my responsibilities. Besides, I don't want to bump into my mom, and make her think I'm there to barge in on her new life."

You raised a brow, a bit surprised at his thinking. You had met Faranak in the distant past, and she was as much of a doting mother as Kaveh was a momma's boy.

At the same time, though, you knew the way Kaveh felt. It was easy to fall into the habit of assuming yourself a burden to everyone, no matter how far from the truth it was.

"She would never think that," you said at last.

"I know..."

The blonde man shifted uncomfortably on your shoulder, so you moved to pull him onto your lap instead, allowing him to rest snugly. He looked about ready to protest—not even alcohol could muddle his mind that much, so as to not be embarrassed by your forthcoming action—when he was immediately shut up by your fingers carding through his locks.

It felt nice, very nice, in fact. Kaveh could feel himself nearly drifting off, the contact serving as just the comfort he needed for his down mood.

"Well, if you're willing to wait a bit longer for your vacation, let's go to Mondstadt. It sounds better for an alcoholic like yourself anyways."

"Really? I'm not that bad."

At your unimpressed glare, he stared out at the docks, blushing.

"...I'll try to drink a little less. But if you're willing to have me, I guess Mondstadt does sound nice."

You hummed, pleased at his response, staring at the moon hanging low on the horizon. With a more upbeat smile than before, you nudged him gently, beginning to weave small braids into his hair.

"Look at that moon. A lovely night. Doesn't this kind of beauty just get your creative juices flowing?"

Unbeknownst to you, crimson eyes flicked up to your smiling face, a flush that wasn't quite from any alcohol making its way to Kaveh's pale cheeks.

"...Yeah. Very lovely, indeed."

#genshin #genshin impact #kaveh #kaveh genshin #kaveh x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaveh my beloved

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pinkiealexie · 2 years

Text

𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ♡ 𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰 𝘏𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘰

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❥ WARNINGS: Maybe a little ooc Donnie, kind of rushed the ending

[My brain literally can't sleep so instead it demands me to write this random oneshot I imagined just right now in my mind so apologies for any errors or it doesn't make sense lol]

PS: I literally had to reupload this whole this a day later because it didn't show under the hashtags I put for some unknown reason

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It was dark..it was 2 in the morning in fact.

The only thing that was giving off light in the room was the bright shine of the TV in front of you and the tiny flickers of light from outside the window.

Were you tired? Maybe just a bit, but you and your lovely softshell turtle of a boyfriend had been staying up all night watching various genres of movies. It was also a school night which really didn’t help at all with your case and probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but who cares? Originally, the plan before was to have Donnie come over to your place and help you out with your homework then leave but then you both got kind of distracted. Your parent(s) were out of the city for the weekend due to some personal reasons so you didn’t have to worry about them walking into your room then possibly ground you for life.

As of right now, you were in the living room with Donnie who had one arm wrapped around your waist with your head resting against the shoulder of the soft fabric of his purple jacket against your cheek. There were empty candy wrappers scattered around the floor with a half finished bowl of popcorn that was now stale in Donnie’s lap which you were pretty sure he had forgotten was even there.

You hadn’t noticed that the cheesy romcom that was playing was over as the end credits started to roll.

“God, that was so awful,” Donnie let out a quiet chuckle as he grabbed the remote from the armrest of the couch, his voice also snapped you out of your zoning out state.

“You want to watch something else, (Y/n)?”

Doing a frog blink, your eye’s gaze moved up to meet with his own gaze staring down at you. It took you a moment to process his offer then it finally registered into your mind,

“Oh..Oh! Yeah sure..” Lazily you reached out to take the remote out of his hand so that you could type in the movie you wanted in the search engine so the only noise audible was the sound of you clicking the arrows and ‘ENTER’ button of the rectangular remote in your hand.

“You seem tired, dear.” Donnies ‘observing’ of you came out more as a statement. Right as you were about to speak a small yawn of yours cut you off and you heard Donnie’s silent laughter from above you. He found it adorable.

Letting out a tiny huff you found a movie that had caught your interest, “Then maybe this next movie will wake me up a bit,” You never denied that he was wrong about you being tired anyways. Donnie turned his attention back to the TV;

“A horror movie?”

“Yes, I said it’ll help wake me up, Don.” You clarified to him. You wouldn't be surprised if Donatello confessed that he wasn't at all tired. You know how he sometimes stays up very late quite often because his sleep schedule is something you want to help him fix, but he said he will if you fixed yours as well. Ooooo he got you there.

“Fair enough.” was what he replied with before the living room fell back into complete silence again while placing the forgotten popcorn onto the coffee table in front of you guys as the movie began.

...

30 minutes into the movie and it was boring to say the least. Donnie must’ve found it unassuming too as you noticed that he was scrolling through the media on his phone, you didn’t blame him though. Gosh maybe you should’ve just ended it off with the romcom and called it a night. Your eyelids felt so heavy that you nuzzled your face deeper into to Donnies shoulder as you were so ready to doze off.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, out of nowhere a loud screeching noise and hideous looking creature appeared on the TV.

Being unprepared for the sudden jumpscare you flinched rather obviously as both of your arms quickly went around Donnie’s plastron area. Donnie on the other hand looked down at your shakened figure as he couldn’t help but try not to laugh at the sight of you all wide eyed and clinging onto him like a magnet.

“Are you awake now?”

Quick to realize what he was referencing too you released him from your hold as you gave him a light punch on the shoulder, “Oh shut up!”

Donnie wiped a fake single tear from his eye, “Oh but your reaction was just so priceless oh I should’ve recorded it! Oh wait- I did!” His phone was in his hand as he replayed the moment on his phone. Holding it right up to your face with such a smug smirk.

In the end, you were still tired. So tired you weren’t even going to bother with Donnies tactics right now, “Fine, fine you win Donatello, BUT that is only because I want to go to bed!”

With a proud toothy smile on Donnie’s face he patted you head, “Alright, you should get your beauty sleep then my dearest (Y/n) for I, Von Ryan have to head back to my brothers!”

Using the remote to turn off the TV and cleaning up a bit of the mess you let out a laugh at his farewell, “Yeah, yeah, a goodnight to you too dear Von Ryan." Donnie just smiled back at you as he turned around to open open the door.

Just as Donnie was about to head out through your door you remembered something, “Oh- hey Donnie hold up!” you called out to him just in time.

“Hmm?” He hummed, turning his head slightly as you were now behind him, “I almost forgot!”

“Forgotten wha-” You cut Donnie off by pulling him down by the strings of his jacket to give him a small kiss.

Pulling away, he was thankful for the darkness of the house. At that moment as you would’ve been able to see the bright red all over his face.

“A goodnight kiss! Now have a goodnight, Don!”

He gave you a single nod, “O-Oh yeah another very goodnight to you too (Y/n)!”

Once he was outside of your door now and making his way back to his place Donnie couldn't help but be excited for the next time you both decided to have a movie night like this together again.

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#rise of tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #oneshot #fluff #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donatello hamato x reader #tmnt donatello #donnie #donnie x reader #donatello x reader #x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 #tmnt #hamato #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie

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yongislong · 2 years

Text

common phrases in relationship + nct dream.

wc: idk eekk genre: fluff/angst-ish/crack?/establish relationships

cw/note: none, i dont think! common things said within reader x non-idol!dreamies relationships <3 i loved writing this sm

mark... you're doing so well. exchanged in between you guys almost every day. you both could have been alone together all day, lazing around and he'll never forget to tell you how proud of you he is, and you the same, especially on his hardest days. it comes with tears, laughter, a tucking of hair behind the ears, a kiss on the crease in between your brows, or sleepy exchanges in the morning before classes or at night just before knocking out, limbs tangled. there are more lighthearted moments between you both like when he pretends to shoot webs out of his wrists but overall support is key

renjun... boi. and yes with an i, and yes he does the hand sign thing with it, like will come up to you and go "boi" and walk away because hes a FREAAAKK. a close runner up is c'mere. GAHHHH he's insane. literally insane. he has so many phrases some saved just for you but any time you hear "c'mere" you're in for it. absolutley in for it. either he wants money, food or a world domination partner. he knows you'd do anything when he lilts his pitch up a bit higher and whines, he knows hes gorgeous its infuriating but also, look at him hes :") hes jun!? your jun!

jeno... ang or pretty thing. he's a biter. IDK, okay i dont. know. but what i do know is that he bites. whether you're making breakfast or laying curled up in bed, he has this... innate alpha urge to bite your cheek his fav, lower stomach, tricep, thigh or shoulder. literally so non sexual like hes just feral. its cute though and that little ang sound he makes </3 he always apologizes with an eye smile and a "sorry pretty thing" after giggling and wiping his spit off your skin T-T lol. likes seeing ur cheeks get pink after he bites them tho haha

haechan... and scene. he thinks he in a movie fr... everytime he rants or confesses something to you and is slightly even a bit lovable or vunurable he will end it with "and scene." he claims its to break the tension but you know its bc he always puts on a happy persona and he can't handle being emotional like that with someone. hes gotten better at it since you came along yaas but will still do it after he makes out with you and it makes you violent?? and he thinks your face is the funniest thing??? hes ever seen??? everytime?? :D ... :|

jaemin... aaaaigo. obviously! kinda basic but other than pet names and endless praise hes more of an acts of service person. hes the type of guy who would like, want to squeeze their pet to death but, out of love :") and its the same with you like he wish he could be better with words but "aigo" is just so fitting when all he feels is insane amounts of love towards you and he cant... like squeeze you xtra hard lol. sometimes he does one or the other but if your being extra cute he'll pick you up and spin you around while chanting aigo over and over again

chenle... i'll pay. oh chenle and his chivarly. yes you are both broke-ish college students and yes hes paid for at least 95% of everything since you both began dating. only times you've been lucky enough to pay is when he rushes off to the bathroom and you flag down your server with debit card in hand. he zelled you almost immediatley so, cash is now a must for you. he can't help but spoil you. you'd once mentioned to him how you can't imagine what he's gonna be like once you two get steady jobs and all he did was smile at you... like the joker... spoiler he bought daegal with his first adult paycheck

jisung... smoke bomb! i.... ok so he gets into predicaments a lot and ok, tbh i dont think hes all that shy but he is kinda awkward and envionrmentally unaware? so he'll be talking to you, or anyone really, and when he senses your eyes kinda squint and a confused pout make its way onto your lips he pretends to smash something on the ground and yell "smoke bomb" and run as fast as he can but... theres obvi no smoke so he... i mean... you can picture it T-T its v cute though just not when he gets flustered in the public grocery store because you asked him if he knew what gnocci pasta actually was

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2knightt · 1 year

Note

heyyy i love ur acc. SM. do u think u could do johnny x reader w some type of argument or the gangs reaction to having an argument?? like i dunno some one tryna come onto johnny and reader throws a lil bitch fit? IF NOT LITERALLY JUST IGNORE THIS LMFAAOA LOVE YA

↳you the fucking coldest₊˚✧

➬ johnny cade x fem!reader

a/n; THANK U OMFG!!! ILYT!!! ALSO I GOT TOTALLY CARRIED AWAY LMFAO IM SICK AND BORED SO. also,,,SORRY I DIDNT ADD IN SOMEONE GOING ONTO JOHNNY I HAD NOTHING FOR THAT LOL

you and johnny were the perfect couple, but every couple has their rough patch.

you had heard that your cousin was in, the two of you were real close before he moved up north.

but it’s not like you were gonna see ‘em. too lazy, you said.

one day, you were just chilling on your couch. it was hot in oklahoma, but who’s surprised? it’s always hot.

but this time, it was so bad you wanted to go into soc territory just for the pool they got.

you were about to say fuck it and go, until you heard a knock.

all your friends and johnny just come in, they should know that by now.

you sighed and got up and walked towards the door.

“hey, y/n! long time no see?”

“ANDY?”

your cousin just smiled and opened his arms, welcoming you in for a hug and you gladly took it.

you dragged him into your house where you talked for hours, catching up, reminiscing about the old days, laughing, all that good stuff.

the next day, it was still unbelievably hot.

so, you and andy thought it’d be funny to go into soc territory for at least an hour of being cool.

jam packed in there, you joked about how you felt like a fish in a sardine can.

the two of you got in after andy started scolding you for not putting on sunscreen.

you and him had so much fun! so much fun that you forgot about the people around you, like johnny’s friends.

two-bit thought it’d be funny to be a well known grease in a soc’s pool.

until he saw you, laughing with some GUY in the pool! splashing, chasing each other and basically flirting!

so you better believe he rushed right over to the curtis house to see johnny cade sittin’ on the couch.

“JOHNNY! I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING IT’S IMPORTANT.”

“wo-woah, calm down two-bit. what is it?”

“I’M PRETTY SURE YOUR GIRLFRIEND IS CHEATING ON YOU! I SAW HER IN THE POOL WITH SOME GUY! THEY WERE BORDERLINE FLIRTING TOO!”

and johnny’s world came crushing down.

he was devastated, but even that would be an understatement.

was he not good enough? was he too quiet? too shy? did he not take you on enough dates?

the poor boy was on the verge of crying, ‘till dallas winston came in and started shouting some nonsense.

“how ‘bout we go pay your broad a visit later? right when they come back, huh?”

“why?”

“to confront her, ya dummy.”

his friend said, smacking the top of his head lightly.

and pay you a visit they did!

you put on your cousin’s favourite movie, made some popcorn, gave him his favourite soda, and right when you got comfortable, you heard another knock.

weird, again.

you opened the door with a sigh to see your boyfriend and dallas winston right behind him.

johnny looked pissed while dallas looked…normal.

his friend bent down and whispers something in his ear and walked off.

“so, where were you? at the pool?”

“yeah? wait—how’d you know?”

“oh so you don’t even TRY to hide it?! cheatin’ on me in public, y/n?! are you fucking kidding me??”

he shouted at you as you scrunched up your face.

cheating?? with who??

“what? i wasn’t cheating on you?! i never would, johnny! be serious right now.”

“i bet you have him in here right now. two-bit told me how he looked. wouldn’t be a problem if i looked, right?”

he said, squeezing his way into your house.

he locked eyes with andy real fast.

“…are you fucking with me, y/n?”

“what? that’s my cousin.”

“yeah fucking right!”

he threw his hands up in the air and stormed out of the place while you tried to explain.

he just slammed the door shut, leaving you speechless.

you cried and cried on your cousins shoulder while he apologized for not speaking up.

the next day, you went on a hunt for johnny cade.

you found him in the lot, he looked like he was cryin’.

“johnny? johnny please let me speak.”

all he did was give you the stink eye and walk away.

you kissed your teeth and rolled your eyes.

if he didn’t wanna hear you out, fine.

let him be like that.

dallas knew he fucked up. he knew he fucked up real bad.

he caught a glimpse of what he thought was your side fling through the window but he noticed, he looked an awful lot like you.

dallas winston went on his own misson, to find your mother.

he found her at her workplace and he dropped the question that’s been on his mind.

“hey, uh, mrs.l/n.”

“oh my! hello dallas, lovely to see you again.”

“yes, yes you too. uh, do you know this guy that’s been at your house? has brown hair, tall, sorta looks like y/n.”

“oh, andy? that’s my nephew. he’s just the sweetest! you should go talk to him, he’s visiting this crummy old city for awhile.”

ah shit. shitshitshit.

he just ruined your guy’s relationship!

scratch that—two-bit just ruined your relationship!

he ran while thanking your mother, he ran his ass alll the way to two-bits home.

he knew he’d be there, drinking, watchin’ mickey mouse, and whatever other bullshit he does.

dallas barged into his home and shouted for his friend, only to find him on the floor.

“what d’ya want, dal?”

“you fucked up, you fucked up realll good.”

“what?”

“that was her COUSIN YOU DOPE.”

fuckkkk.

how was he supposed to know?

and that’s exactly what he asked, after the feelings of guilt washed over him.

“how was i supposed to know?”

“i knew with just one look! how couldn’t YOU TELL?!”

“WELL SHOOT WHAT’RE WE GONNA DO NOW?!”

two-bit asked, jumping up to his feet.

dallas licked the inside of his cheek while looking of to the side.

“i dunno, explain it to johnny?”

“if they end things for real, i ain’t never believin’ in love again.”

dallas shook his head as two-bit walked through his door. he couldn’t help but agree with his friend.

they drove until they seen him walkin’ around, lookin’ like a bum.

“hey, johnny! get in! we gotta talk.”

johnny nodded and got in the back seat.

“we gotta talk about y/n.”

he groaned and leaned his head back against the head-rest, looking up.

“seriously? can’t we talk about somethin’ else?”

“no, johnny! we messed up.”

it’s too late for ‘mess ups,’ now.

johnny rolled his eyes and got out of the car while dallas chased after him.

“hey, man. we’re being serious.”

“how much she pay you?”

“nothing! i ain’t spoken a word to her.”

“yeah right.”

dallas sighed as johnny started walking in the opposite direction.

he walked to two-bits car and knocked on the window and two rolled it down.

“go n’ find y/n and tell her johnny’s sorry. he ain’t yet, but he’s gonna be when i tell everyone else.”

two-bit nodded and drove off while dallas started walking to the curtis house.

steve and soda were off work, ponyboy wasn’t in school since it’s the summer, and it’s the weekend so darry can’t work.

he basically kicked the door down, and shouted for everyone to get into the living room, NOW.

“what is it, dal?”

“yeah, what happened?”

dallas sighed and said answered their questions,

“johnny and y/n broke up over a the uh,”

“the cheatin’? yeah we heard.”

“yea..can’t believe she’d do that.”

“but she didn’t. that was her goddamn cousin. even asked her mom to confirm.”

the house erupted into gasps and groans.

“so what do we do?”

“convince them to talk to each other. they gotta come ‘round sooner or later.”

they annoyed johnny, and they annoyed you.

your whole days were filled with the gang shoutin’ your name, but you thought it was to argue over the false accusations.

so you walked the other way, and johnny did the same.

until, sodapop and steve finally cornered you.

“if you guys are here to yell at me, i ain’t no cheater!”

“we know, jeez.”

oh. now you kinda seem like a douche.

“oh. so, what do you want?”

“TALK TO JOHNNY, PLEASE!”

“PLEASE!!! IF YOU DON’T I’LL UH—I’LL BREAK UP WITH EVIE!”

“what the fuck, steve?”

“go with it, soda.”

they whispered to each other, while still glaring at you.

“yeah’ an-and i’ll kill ponyboy!”

“okay not that far.”

steve said, turning to look at soda.

you giggled to yourself watching their banter. you kinda missed them, just as much as you missed johnny.

“does he even wanna talk to me?”

“uh-totally!”

“yeah girlfriend! let’s go to my house! he’s there, just bawling!”

even though you were confused at the nickname, you still went with the two best friends.

you three walked into the curtis house where you seen ponyboy rubbing johnnys back while they sat on the couch.

he was sittin’ with his head down and his hands intertwined.

they pulled darry’s chair so it was right in front of johnny.

steve sorta, pushed you into the chair.

johnny looked up and soda wasn’t lying. he had looked like he’s been crying.

the gang walked into darry’s room to leave the two of you alone.

you were the first out of the both of you to speak.

“i-i’m sorry johnny.”

“no-no. i’m sorry, y/n. i’m sorry i ain’t believe you, i don’t know why i acted like that. it was so stupid of me. and i still love you, i really do.”

you smiled and got out of the chair to sit next to johnny.

“that was real stupid of you. next time, just let me talk, okay?”

“i will. i swear, i’ll be a better boyfriend. just give me another chance.”

you kissed his cheek and grinned at his shocked face.

“couldn’t imagine being with anyone else, but you.”

you guys were having a sweet moment, just staring into each others eyes, living in the moment.

until you heard cheers.

“YESS!!”

“FINALLY!!”

“good for you guys.”

“I DON’T HAVE TO BREAK UP WITH EVIE!!”

“AND I DON’T HAVE TO KILL PONYBOY!!”

“wait, what?”

may 27th, 2023. 8:56PM

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #johnny x reader #johnny cade x reader

324 notes · View notes

pearlparty · 1 year

Text

It’s Cuffin’ Season

Brat/Sub!Austin x Reader

Summary: It all started out as a fun little game of teasing, harmless. Except this time he broke one of the rules. And then he broke another rule, because he just couldn’t help himself. He didn’t expect being tied up, gagged, and edged to tears as a result though. Furthermore, he’d never have expected himself to like it. Check that, no, love it.

Warnings: SMUT!!!, heavy dom/sub dynamics, Brat!Austin (but one could argue that it’s just banter and not bratty), Sub!Austin, handcuffs, teasing, edging, masturbation (f/m), oral (f/m receiving), hand job, use of a tie as a gag, a tiny bit of degradation, lots of praise, momma kink, ma’am kink, usage of the nickname “baby boy”, lots of begging and apologizing, male whimpering, a dash of dacryphilia (if you can even call it that), tons of dirty talk, brief discussion/use of the color system safe words, unprotected penetrative sex, spitting/swallowing spit, cockwarming, creampie, no use of Y/N, first time writing smut, super quick/rushed ending probably

Word Count: 9k

Note: This is my first time writing smut, so please provide ANY/ALL of the feedback (and I really mean good and bad because I really want to step up my game with this, so feel free to be mean lol). I wrote this for @purejasmine who asked for some apologetic and crying Austin. Hope I could do it justice, babe, and sorry it took five-ever lol. This has been sitting in the archive for a while because I’ve been so anxious about posting it, so the end wraps things up super quickly--if you have any suggestions about how to properly wrap it up, please, message me! If I’ve written anything that has concerning themes that I’ve not addressed, please let me know. I also feel the need to mention that this is takes place in an established relationship with switch dynamics that aren’t really discussed. This is filthy, God, I’m sorry.

The two of you had been apart for what felt like forever (in reality, it was only about a month, but it felt like forever to two idiots who were hopelessly in love and obsessed with each other). You’d been in Paris boss bitching your fall fashion designs to a couple of top executives and he’d been gone for press tours.

It was easy at first. You’d call every night to check in and say your sappy goodnights (even though the time difference usually meant one of you was saying good morning). FaceTime provided some element of comfort to satiate his need for you, but the small screen of blue light did little in comparison to your soft touch and warm skin. Still, he held out because at least he could see you.

The second week was a little harder. A little game had started up between the two of you. Phone calls littered with subtle innuendos had turned to lightly provocative selfies and texts which turned into downright filthy messages sent to each other during the work day. In fact, it got to the point that whenever your name popped up on his screen, he had to check his surroundings before he looked at the message. Unfortunately, he had also learned the hard way to make sure his brightness and volume were low, thanks to a sexy little voice note that had him jumping out of his skin and nearly throwing his phone into the street—which had earned him a poorly hidden side-eye from one of the PAs that had been nearby.

The game of teasing had begun, and while he absolutely loved it, you’d set an impossible finish line: wait until we’re together again. He’d audibly groaned when the words left your mouth, dripping with sex. “Just think how much better it’s gonna be when you’re fucking me instead of your hand. Can you wait for me, baby? Wait for me to come home and take your cock in whatever way pleases you?” He reluctantly agreed, but the images in his phone had been tempting enough as it was. The rest of the time away would be a nightmare.

It’d been easy in the day—there had been a few moments where he zoned out staring into the middle distance, pulling his lip between his teeth, as flashes of your face creased in ecstasy graced his imagination, but the tasks before him always pulled him back to the present without a problem.

Nights on the other hand? That was a whole different problem—it was awfully easy to let his mind wander in an empty hotel room when his phone was right there with a variety of scandalous pictures of you on it. Well… let’s just say that he’d used the pictures you’d sent to hype himself up a bit, but he’d held out despite that little horny voice in the back of his head that tempted him to undo his pants for a quick couple strokes. He might have taken a cold shower or two (or six), but he’d managed to do it.

The four weeks away had him aching to spend a few blissful moments in your presence; it’d be a chance to hold you and recount your trip’s details—touch your face, caress your curves with his fingers, and bury his face in your stomach as you lightly play with his curls.

Right before he railed you into the mattress.

But that’s not how things worked out, huh? Unfortunately, your flight had been canceled due to the weather in Rennes, France, so your schedule had you just barely getting home before the charity gala the next day. You hadn’t been too worried on the phone, brushing it all off with a lovely, “C’est la vie,” but Austin held back an annoyed groan. The man had been waiting to have you all to himself, tucked away in his arms in your little corner of the world, and now he’d have to wait even longer to have you.

Now, that pesky little voice seemed a little louder. His horniness, and perhaps slight jet lag, had begun to eat away at his resolve and soon he found himself leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, filthy thoughts rolling through his head. He glanced at the clock. Around 3. She’s not going to be home for a few hours, the little voice offered. And you won’t be able to have her until after the gala. She’d never know. Besides, it’s good for stress relief, and you’ve been so worked up for so long. You deserve this.

His patience had worn thin and he gave into those carnal urges before you got home. He had the images pulled up on his phone, listening to the voice memos, over and over again as he pictured you coming undone beneath him. He rode that wave to the peak.

And then you walked in on him. His heart (and impending orgasm) stopped. Everything seemed to freeze as you locked eyes with him and pursed your lips.

“Is that any way to greet the love of your life after a month apart?”

Heat rose in his cheeks and ears with embarrassment. Shit, he thought. Not only had you caught him masturbating, you had caught him masturbating after you explicitly told him not to masturbate while you were gone.

It was only a few seconds, but it dragged out for an eternity. Austin let go of his cock and sat up a little straighter, eyes darting around the room as he started a defense, “Babe, I, uh--”

“Needed me that bad, huh, baby boy?” you purred as you strutted towards him, lidded eyes never leaving his panicked and confused ones as you closed the distance between you. You dragged your hands up and over his knees and thighs, leaning down enough to give him a little bit of a show with your loose neckline dangling open. His mouth fell open into a small O-shape, still confused, but not unhappy, that you were acting like this.

“Hm?” you hummed, nails ghosting over his cock as you leaned down close to his ear to taunt him with a salacious, “Oh, honey, we both know that your hand can’t hold a flame to me. Do you need me now?” You leaned in closer with a breathy sigh. “Want me to take you right here? Wanna come inside me after a month of being apart?”

Austin’s eyes rolled back in his head as he listened to the sin fall from your lips. For a moment he’d completely forgotten about the promise he’d broken. For a moment he just had you.

“Oh yes, baby, yes. I do,” he moaned as your hands slid over his shoulders, teasing the fabric of his white tee up his torso just a couple inches. He gently let his hands slide up the sides of your waist. “Need you so bad.”

A light chuckle resonated in your chest before you continued in a breathy whisper, “You know I was going to make it special.” He barely processed the words as he melted into your touch on his neck, spellbound by the way your fingernails lightly scraped over his scalp and mussed his curls. And then you were a lips’ distance away and he could only marvel at the way you’d enchanted him with your touch, hypnotizing him with your soft tone and bedroom eyes.

“Think of all the sinful things we could have done before the gala tonight, Aus,” you breathed as you leaned in even closer. He nearly closed the distance between your lips himself, but--

“Since you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, I guess we’ll just have to wait a little longer, won’t we.” You pulled away harshly, leaving him chasing your skin with a small protesting whine and a small “no” as you drew back and met his gaze with maliciousness, still gripping his hair in an iron vice like some sort of seductress. No.

Dominatrix.

Austin gulped.

“Now, you’re gonna listen to me, baby, and you’re gonna listen good,” you admonished, making him nod, suddenly struck dumb at your quick mood change. You had never spoken to him like this before… and he couldn’t say that he didn’t like it. You kept your voice low and level, but not angry. If anything, your words almost contradicted your sultry tone. “We’re going to go to the gala in a couple of hours. We’re going to have a real good time. You’re going to be on your best behavior—keep your hands to yourself, be the perfect arm candy for me, and then,” you leaned in again, “if you’re good,” your lips just ghosted the shell of his ear as you brought your voice down to a whisper, “I’m going to fuck your brains out when we get home.”

The brazened words sent a thrill straight to his cock, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe anymore.

“But,” you jerked his head back to look at you fully, a fire burning in your eyes as you laid it out crystal clear. “You put your hands on yourself or misbehave for the tiniest fraction of a second, and I will have you crying and begging for mercy.”

The next words left his mouth unbidden, “Is that a threat or a promise?”

You licked your lips and cocked your head to the side, looking him up and down. “Huh,” the tip of your tongue grazed the bottom of your front teeth, “never woulda pegged you as a brat, Mr. Butler.”

You released his hair and caressed your fingers over his cheek before running your thumb down his full bottom lip. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He hummed in response, his half lidded gaze and smirk doing well for himself. A thrill shot through your abdomen. This was turning out to be one of the best games you’d ever played, it seemed. You gripped his jaw and went in for a slow kiss. A simple kiss to greet your lover with affection after the weeks apart. “I missed you, by the way,” you muttered to his lips, allowing the persona to take a backseat for a moment and let your mushy feelings out before you had to become the stern woman in charge again.

“Missed you, too,” he muttered back, letting his fingers tease the seam of your pants by your knees.

“Trust me, I’m aware.” You glanced down to his still exposed dick and smirked a little as he blushed. “Now,” you gently tapped his cheek, “get your ass into the bathroom and take a cold shower for me, yeah?”

Needless to say, putting his hands on himself had been one of the few thoughts rolling around in his head as he stepped under the cold water—which didn’t help much besides shock his body back to homeostasis, by the way—and then changed into the dark blue suit set you’d picked out for him shortly after. And as he watched you slink out from your closet draped in a shimmery gold dress that left little to his raunchy imagination, he had to turn and mentally bite his fist to calm himself. The slit in the skirt revealing your leg practically screamed, “Easy access, easy access, easy access!” His fingers itched to slide up your waist and slip the delicate straps from your shoulders. They ached to caress your stomach, thighs, and breasts, but your warning played on repeat in his head and he restrained himself to stick to the rules of engagement you’d given him.

But what would happen if I didn’t play by the rules? he thought. Austin wasn’t sure whether it was unbridled curiosity or some unchecked internal masochism that he’d yet to address, but something had prompted the thought as the two of you climbed into the back of the car. He wanted to see just how far you’d take things.

How could he push you to the end of your rope? And what would lie in wait for him once he’d done it?

A smirk played on the corner of his mouth as the car stopped at your destination. He’d play his part, yes. He’d be the perfect arm candy to the fashion executive woman who needed to hobnob with the rich for a while to maintain those business relationships. He’d open doors, help you from the car, make small talk with individuals with inflated senses of purpose, fetch drinks, and smile for pictures. Yes, he’d do all of that.

But he wanted to have a little fun with you, too. And after two and a half hours of watching you do your job accepting the praise from your colleagues, he finally allowed himself to do just that. Maybe it was his own sexual frustration, or even the three glasses of gin, that pushed him to such uncharacteristic public boldness, but he couldn’t ignore the way he felt drawn to your body as you and a small group of stylists listened to your colleague Jean-Luc Gaultier speak about his defeats and triumphs with his latest line of men’s trousers.

Austin appeared to be listening to the Frenchman intently, but his mind was elsewhere as he let his hand snake around your waist and caress the silk material. His fingers pressed into the front of your hip bone in a tantalizing motion as he slid them impossibly close to your hip flexor for the briefest of moments—just teasing you with the idea of the possibility of where he would go next. Your breath hitched, but you maintained your decorum and covered it up by clearing your throat as you shot Austin a look out of the corner of your eye. He ignored it.

Jean-Luc didn’t seem to notice either, and continued to prattle on about the season to the group of people in the small circle. The other designers in the conversation didn’t pay you mind, only eager to please the executive with fake laughter and ingenuine flattery.

Austin’s hand wandered again, gently sliding up your waist to allow his thumb to ghost the underside of your breast before dropping to cop a feel of your ass. Your eyes widened at the sensation, and you snatched his hand in yours. Without even looking at Austin, you could tell he had that stupid smirk on his lips.

“Excuse me, Jean-Luc,” you gently interjected with a tight smile on your face when the executive came to the end of his story. The graying man looked over his round pink sunglasses with a quirked brow. “I think I need to go out for a smoke. I’ll be right back.” You finally turned to shoot a warning look at Austin. “Come with me, dear?”

You didn’t even give him a chance to answer as you dragged him away towards the large door out the back, keeping an eye out for any lingering guests that might have gone out as well.

The heavy door slammed closed as you and Austin stepped into the cool night air. Alone. Without a second thought, you whipped the tall man around you and roughly shoved him into the red brick with a huff, your dark nails biting into his neck.

“What the hell was that?” You hissed through gritted teeth. You’d been patient up until now, but this recent disobedience flipped the switch pushed all the pent up sexual frustration from the past month to something a little more aggressive than you’d ever expected. “You really think you can get away with that fiasco back home and then you come here and pull that shit? You’re a little too cocky for your own good.”

“Oh, c’mon, darlin’,” he rasped out, throwing in a little bit of that southern twang that you’d never openly admit to loving so much. “You know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. Was he trying to get out of this or make it worse on himself? A wave of inappropriate ideas flooded the forefront of your mind. You couldn’t help but grin a little.

“You’re not too good at following rules, are you?” your low voice sent a shiver up his spine, and he met your half-lidded gaze with one of his own. You pulled your lip between your teeth in contemplation. “What on earth am I gonna do with you?”

“Nothing I don’t deserve, I’m sure,” he goaded you. This was uncharted territory for both of you, but he was more than eager to push the limits to fill in the blank edges on the map.

“Who’s to say you deserve anything?” You shortened the gap between your lips as much as you could given Austin’s insane height advantage over you.

He nearly moaned at the bite in your words and the feeling of your nails on his neck. “Ooh, I like it when you’re mean, baby.” Ever the perfect scene partner, he improvised in this little game of yours while eloquently giving you the green light to lay on in thick. And you’d do just that.

You hummed. “You’re a pussy hungry, arrogant little whore, aren’t you? You go home and jerk off to the thought of me when I explicitly told you not to and then you come here and let your hands wander after I asked you to be a good boy.” You let your words drip from your mouth with a sickeningly sweet glaze. “Do you think it’s funny disobeying me? Where exactly do you get off with that, huh?”

“With you, hopefully,” he rasped, keeping his words between the two of you as he smirked. Currently, nothing seemed more appealing than wiping that smug look off of his beautiful face. Your fingers twisted around his tie as you wrenched him closer, a sinister smile spreading over your lips.

“We’ll see,” you whispered before dragging him inside like a dog on his leash. It didn’t take him long to catch up, and you quickly dropped his tie and slipped your hand around his to lead him instead—better not to attract more attention than necessary, though part of you would have liked to drag him out like that and let everyone know that he was your little puppy.

You found Jean-Luc near the bar; the swarm of groupies and outlandish fashion made it easy to find him. “I’m so sorry, dear,” you began, pulling the older man’s attention to you. “But I’m afraid I’m feeling a little faint after that cigarette, so Austin and I are going to head home for the night.” You didn’t give him a chance to object or offer any remedies he might have up his sleeve. “Your designs are fantastic, mon ami, and I can’t wait to see what you have this fall.” He blushed and pulled you in for a kiss on either cheek in his typical farewell before you muttered a few more goodbyes and led Austin to the car.

You ushered him into the backseat, and he wordlessly followed your directions to buckle his seatbelt. A thick sexual tension settled into the back of the car as you gave the driver directions to your house, and you might have worried that the driver knew what you were up to had you not been busy running your nails through the curls at the base of Austin’s neck.

When the car pulled into the driveway, you unbuckled Austin’s seatbelt and directed his eyes to yours with two of your fingers on his jaw. You kept your voice low enough so that only he could hear you. “Get your ass in the house, baby. Go sit on the couch and wait for me there, okay?”

Austin pulled his lip between his teeth and you could have sworn that you heard a shudder in his breath. You smirked, taking a moment to admire the state he was in before you reached across him and pulled his door open. “I’ll take care of this and be up in just a second, okay?” you said at normal volume, but the edge in your voice wasn’t lost on him. Austin nodded once, sucked in another breath and clambered out of the car. You couldn’t help but watch his long legs carry him through the front door.

“Long night, huh?” the driver’s deep voice sounded so suddenly in the quiet private neighborhood that you nearly jumped. It made you let out a small laugh.

“Oh, you have no idea,” you muttered as you pulled your wallet out of your purse. “Thanks for the ride.” You handed him a $100 bill and quickly stepped out. The beams from the headlights softened as the car backed out of the driveway, and soon it was just you and the porch light on a warm summer evening.

Austin sat obediently on the couch like you’d asked—manspread and smirking, but obedient nonetheless—as he watched you saunter into the living room. A part of you couldn’t decide whether he was trying to show that he maintained dominance or if he just wanted to piss you off. You wordlessly made your way over to him, slowly drinking him in and letting your eyes roam every inch of his lanky body draped over the cushions. He’d taken off his suit jacket and laid it over the couch’s armrest. He did look rather handsome in what you’d picked for him. Dark blue always brought out his eyes, and the white button up perfectly complimented his tan skin.

“See something you like, babe?” The snarky comment left his lips as he leaned back and looped his arms over the back of the couch. You cocked an eyebrow, surprised at his audacity but didn’t answer his question.

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s deserving of a punishment,” you hummed, grabbing your dress and parting it from the slit at the top of your thigh so you could straddle him. It had been a risk forgoing a pair of panties with a high slit in your dress, but the gamble had paid off if the look in Austin’s eyes meant anything. You didn’t put any pressure on his lap, though. No, you would take your time with him.

“And what if that’s the very thing that has me so chipper?” Austin’s husky voice hit your ears and you sighed at the sound.

“Well then, darling,” you matched his tone, tugging lightly at the knot of his tie to bring him closer. Your whisper sent a chill down his spine. “I’d say you don’t know what you’re in for.”

He groaned at the sound as you lowered yourself down to his lap, allowing your naked body heat to tease him through his pants. He snaked his hands up your waist, eager to rid you of your golden dress and touch your soft skin.

“No.” You snatched his wrists and yanked them from your body. “No touching. Not ‘til I say so.” Austin’s blue eyes blinked up at you a couple of times. Oh, sweet boy didn’t really think he was going to be punished, did he? You kept your tone firm, but didn’t raise your voice as you spoke, “You’re being punished so you don’t do anything until I say so.”

“O-okay.” He stuttered out, and you released his wrists before wrapping your fingers behind his neck and redirecting his gaze up to yours by pressing his chin up with your thumb.

“That’s all I get? After you disrespected me and disobeyed me?” you questioned with feigned innocence and a pout. Your thumb gently swiped back and forth over the smooth skin on his flushed cheek before you went back to your stern voice. “It’ll be ‘yes, ma’am’ from here on out. Understood?”

Austin swallowed thickly. “Yes, ma’am.” He planted his hands firmly beside him on the couch cushions.

You smirked. “Hm. Good boy.” You turned your attention to his clothes, aching to run your hands down his toned chest. Nimble fingers moved to loosen his tie as you spoke again. “You remember the color system, baby?” It was rhetorical, but he nodded anyway. “Can you tell me what each of the colors mean?” His tie came undone and you pulled it from his shirt collar slowly to lay it over the back of the blue couch, reveling in the way his breathing quickened ever so slightly. His eyes never left your face even though your attention was on each of the buttons on his shirt.

“Yes, ma’am,” he sucked in a breath as you undid the top two buttons. “Green is all clear,” the next button came loose, “yellow is slow down,” Your nails grazed his chest as two more came undone. His breath hitched at the sensation, but he pushed through the last color. “And red means stop.” You finished undoing his shirt and ran your fingers down his chest and towards his toned stomach.

“Very good,” you purred. Gently, you eased the garment off of his body and discarded it to the floor haphazardly. Your eyes raked over his bare chest, the light dusting of chest hair between his pecs. Fuck, he was pretty.

Finally, you met his eyes again. Those familiar blues you loved so much had that little ring of green on the edges that only showed up when he was horny, blown wide with lust. You gently cupped his chin as you spoke seriously, the game taking a time-out so you could clearly express to your lover what you thought to be so important. “So you say ‘red’ at any point, and I’ll stop everything, okay?”

He nodded and sucked in a breath. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, sincerity in his eyes. He was ready for whatever you had for him.

That wicked smile returned to your face. “Good.”

Austin couldn’t suppress the thrill that shot down his spine. Oh, lord have mercy. He barely had time to perceive the handcuffs you’d pulled from your bag before you gently grabbed his left wrist. His eyebrows shot up at the sight—he hadn’t expected this, by any means. The gears clicked as you squeezed the single strand snuggly around his wrist. Your eyes flicked up to his, and he nodded, giving you the go ahead.

“Lean forward for me, baby.” He did as he was told, his eyeline meeting your decolletage as his face nearly collided with your plunging neckline. He gulped. Had he not promised to be a good boy and wait for permission, he’d press kisses all over you right now. Over your collarbones, down to the plush flesh at the top of your breasts, right down to—

“Do you know why you’re being punished, Austin?” Your voice interrupted his thoughts as you secured his hands behind his back. You hummed as the other handcuff clicked around his wrist slowly.

“Yes, ma’am.” he breathed out slowly, eyes glued to your neckline. Oh this really was a punishment.

“Go on.” You withdrew your hands from behind him and pushed his back to the couch. “Tell me all the naughty things you did to deserve this.” Your nails scraped down his shoulders to his chest, making him hiss at the delightful sensation. You leaned in close, pressing light kisses to his neck—the kind that just barely grazed his skin and drove him mad with the sensation of your hot breath fanning across his pulse point. Austin adjusted his arms behind his back a little so the cold metal of the handcuffs wasn’t pressing into his wrists too hard before he spoke.

“I-I touched myself before you came home,” he choked out when you ground your hips into his pelvis. Tilting his head back for more access, you slowly dragged your hot lips up his throat and across his jaw, hands traveling closer and closer to his hardening cock. You hummed.

“Mhm. You couldn’t wait for me, could you?” You grinned as you lightly took his chin between your teeth and shook your head in response to your own question. Then you got dangerously close to his lips. “Mm, you got off without me, so I’d say it’s only fair that you wait a little longer while I get off, yeah?” Austin wanted to choke out a defense that technically he never really got off because you’d interrupted his climax, but the words died on his lips when you let out a small moan with another roll of your hips. His eyes rolled back at the sensation and sound. “You’re going to make me come two times, and then if you’re good, I’ll think about letting you put your pitiful cock inside me. Does that sound okay, darling?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he moaned, ready, willing, and able. Even with his hands behind his back, he knew he’d be able to pull a couple of orgasms out of you. Hell, maybe he’d make it three and overachieve—get a gold star and extra praise for his good deeds.

But just like that, you were off of the couch and strutting away. You seemed to be doing that a lot lately. It made him go mad with hunger and he had to suppress a whine at the loss of contact he’d been aching for.

You slowly turned and sank to the loveseat across from Austin, arching your back just enough to draw his attention to your chest. His brow furrowed.

“Uhh,” he stammered out, “how am I supposed to get you off from here?”

You tisked. “Oh, Aus, I never said anything about you getting me off right away.” You leaned back on the velvety cushion and slowly spread your legs, leaving everything on display for Austin—everything you knew he wanted but couldn’t have. His mouth watered at the sight. “Seems it’s only fair that I get myself off just like you, right?”

You didn’t break eye contact as your hand dipped to the pooling arousal between your legs. Suddenly, he realized exactly what kind of torture awaited him now: you were going to get yourself off first. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it but watch. A breathy satisfied moan left your mouth, “Oh, Aus.” You drew his name out in a long sigh, but the word left him empty since it wasn’t him that provided the pleasure (not that it made a difference to his quickly hardening cock). Austin shifted in his seat as you let out a gasp and gripped the back of the loveseat over your shoulder.

“Eyes on me, baby. Only me.” you taunted, screwing your eyes shut as you began a rhythm on your clit that tightened the coil in your abdomen. “Mm, this could have been you, Aus.” You pulled your lip between your teeth, attempting to make an extra show for him.

Truth be told, the performance wasn’t quite as pleasurable as you made it out to be as you normally liked Austin to be the one to get you off, but he’d been naughty and you deemed the performance a necessary punishment to get him irate or apologetic, whichever came first. After all, this was your game, so it seemed only fair that you make up the rules—even if they were unfair.

“This could be your hand touching me, but you couldn’t wait, could you?”

Austin had his eyes glued to your fingers moving through your wet arousal and over your clit, as he shifted again in his seat. “No, I couldn’t wait,” he choked out, the words leaving him hoarse.

“Such an impatient man.” The coil began to compress, and you picked up your pace to chase the release. “You’re so desperate for me aren’t you, baby?”

A whine edged into his voice, “Yes, ma’am. I need you so bad. Please.” He leaned forward to the edge of the couch, letting out a strained breath. A jolt of arousal bolted down your spine, but you chose not to respond to his plea and instead let out an obscene moan to tease him a little more. He continued, more of that delicious whine lining his words, “Oh, please, baby, can I make you come. Can I please touch you?”

The begging sent you over the edge and a lovely wave of white pleasure washed over you as you came, knuckles going white as you clutched the back of the couch. Toes curling, head thrown back in ecstasy, your quick breaths echoing off the walls; it might as well have been pulled straight from a porno, and it had Austin captivated and straining against his slacks. If you hadn’t been recovering from an orgasm, you might have taken a minute to soak in the power you held over him at the moment.

When the aftershocks finished wracking your body, you met Austin’s lustful gaze from across the room with a hooded one of your own. He licked his plush lips, eyes raking over your form as his chest heaved, his cheeks flushing a light pink in his excitement. You smirked, pleased with the effect you were having on him.

“You wanna taste me, sweetheart?” The question had barely left your mouth when Austin nodded feverishly. You crooned, “Awfully greedy, aren’t we?”

You retracted your hand from your pussy and swiftly crossed to Austin to straddle him again, pushing him harshly back into the couch. He offered no resistance to your fingers slipping between his lips, savoring your taste and running his tongue over your fingers. You smirked.

“I love how eager you are for me, Austin,” you purred, slithering your hand back to the base of his skull and tugging gently on a few of his curls. His eyes rolled back at the praise.

You straddled him again, pulling your fingers from his mouth and pressing a hot, sloppy, open mouthed kiss to his worry-worn lips. He kissed you hungrily, like kissing you was the only thing that would put air into his lungs. You were right: he was desperate for you.

“I love when you’re begging for it. Begging for me.” You gasped the words between kisses, rolling your hips into his. He hissed at the welcomed sensation. Your hands wandered down to his belt, pulling the buckle free.

“Touch me,” he gasped. “Please touch me, ma’am. Please.”

Your eyes flashed up to watch his pretty face express the pleasure you supplied as you palmed his cock. Slowly, agonizingly, you undid the button and zipper on his slacks. Your fingers dipped beneath the waistband and shimmied it down his hips just enough for his cock to spring free from his underwear. You couldn’t help but grin. It seemed every single part of Austin was pretty.

“Can you behave for me, Aus? Are you gonna listen to me this time? Gonna tell me when you’re about to come?” you cooed, dragging your hand up and down his dick in long languid strokes.

“Yes, ma’am. Yes, I promise. Please. Just—please,” he choked his whimpers down as best he could but you could tell he was losing that battle. You made a mental note to draw those whimpers out of him later.

You hummed as you slid off his lap and sank to your knees, eyeing his throbbing erection, the precum already oozing from his tip. Without wasting any more time, you took hold of him by the base and licked a long stripe along the underside of his cock. He let out a breath, one that let you know how much he’d been trying to hold back earlier. You suppressed a grin and leaned forward to kiss the angry red tip, pressing a few little kitten licks to the top. He squirmed at the sensation.

“P-please,” he whined, “no, teasin’.”

You pulled away. “You want me to stop?”

“No! Please, ma’am, I--” he started, but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Then you’ll take what I give you, and beg for more.”

He whimpered, actually whimpered, “Yes, ma’am.” A flash of hot arousal whipped down your spine and straight to your throbbing pussy. Fuck, that was hot.

“Good,” you hummed, before turning your attention back to his cock.

When you took his tip into your mouth, a shudder shook his chest as he moaned. You pumped your hand along him a few times, reveling in the way you could see his strong arms tugging and squirming to break free from his restraints, the way his eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy.

You pulled away for just a moment to tell him, “Love the way those pretty blue eyes roll back when I’m sucking you off, baby.” Your voice dripped over him like honey, smooth and salacious—all he wanted in that moment was the feeling of your tongue swirling around his head.

You bobbed your head, taking his long cock back as far as you could, pumping the rest of him with your hand.

“Y-yes, ‘slike that,” he moaned. “Kee-keep, goin’ like that.” His eyes screwed shut and with a gasp and a grunt, he cried out, “Oh! I’m gonna come, baby!” The pleasure had been building all day and it had gotten so intense. You bobbed your head a few more times, pulling him closer and closer to the peak. “Oh! I’m—”

You pulled back, letting his hard wet cock spring back to his stomach in a pitiful display of arousal and no relief. Those beautiful ceruleans blinked open, and for a moment you thought you could see a line of tears in his waterline. His chest rose and fell quickly with heated breaths as he spoke, “Why’d you—” he stopped for a moment to think as you crawled back onto his lap and wiped your mouth, “b-but I’ve been good for you, haven’t I?”

You pressed a searing kiss to his open mouth to shut him up, allowing his cock to barely graze your cunt. His breath hitched at it, and you pulled his head back by his hair to let him get a look at you.

“Please,” he begged, “can I please come?”

“Patience, darling. You’re doing so well, but you’re not there yet,” you teased, dragging the back of your index finger down his cheek. You tugged on his hair again, easing another whine out of him. It sent a thrill straight to your core.

“Color?” Your voice softened as you asked the question. You might have been in the driver’s seat tonight, but he had control of the situation.

“Green, baby. So green.” His answer came immediately.

“Good,” you cooed with a smirk. You stood again, only this time, you beckoned him to follow you to the other couch.

“On your knees, Aus,” you commanded, and the tall blond obeyed. “So good for me, aren’t you?” You sank back to the love seat, spreading your legs again for him. “Make me come, Austin.”

His eyes went wide, and a small smile graced his lips.

“Yes, ma’am,” he affirmed before diving in like it was his last meal on earth, letting you swing your legs over his shoulders and crush his head between your thighs. The man was a master with his tongue. He crudely licked a long stripe along your pussy before lapping gently at your clit.

He ate you out like it was his job, plunging his tongue into you and stimulating your clit with practiced perfection. Up and down, up and down, sucking here, nudging there, swirling and finally adding in a little nip that drove you wild. A string of praise fell from your mouth without you even realizing. “So good t’me. Oh Aus, yes like that! Keep going for me, baby!”

His tongue plunged inside you, and you let out a gasp, gripping the back of the couch again. He could tell you were getting closer, closer, closer, and maintained his pace on your clit as you let out another cry, “Yes! ‘M close! I-I—”

The words wouldn’t come, but he knew exactly what you meant. He drank the words down and let out a grown at the sound of your voice, your cries. Ultimately, that tipped the scales and you came all over his face with a cry.

He didn’t stop though; his tongue continued its magic as he helped you ride your orgasm out until the wave of white passed over you and you had to push him away with your hand. He didn’t back away fully and instead pressed more wet, heated kisses to the inside of your thighs, stealing glances up at you as you caught your breath. Finally, your eyes locked and he stopped with a slow and intimate kiss on your leg.

He grinned at you in the dimmed light, his chin glistening. The man wore your arousal like a damn badge of honor. It was filthy, positively filthy.

“Did I do good, momma?” he rasped, voice deep and gravelly. You might have just climaxed, but the nickname suddenly ignited a new kind of feral desire for him, and you felt yourself getting hot and bothered all over again. You took a few steadying breaths before you spoke.

“You did very good, baby boy. Oh, fuck, you did so good for momma.” You lunged forward to capture his lips with yours, not caring in the slightest that you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your lips moved together in practiced perfection, sliding, sucking—you even nipped at his lower lip and pulled a sigh from him.

“Can you sit on the couch for me, darlin’?” you asked between kisses.

“Yes, ma’am.” With a little helpful balance from you, he returned to his seat and it was clear that his erection needed some attention, so you straddled his lap again with a little more room for you to jerk him off.

“Doin’ so good for me, Aus,” you purred in his ear as you took his cock in your hand. He hummed at the contact and moaned as your hand pumped him at a slow and agonizing pace.

“Please, baby, please,” he begged and let your name fall from his lips. “C’mon, baby, make me come!” Your hand stuttered on his cock and you pulled away, making him pant and whine some more for relief. “Baby, I’ve been good!” His voice was desperate, but verging a little too close to demanding for your liking. He didn’t get to demand things like that tonight.

“You’re not playing by my rules, Aus,” you chastised flatly as you leaned away to retrieve his tie from the other side of the couch. “You don’t wanna call me what I told you to call me? Fine.” You rolled up his tie in your hands and watched his eyes widen. “You don’t get to say anything else either. Open.”

Reluctantly, he obeyed and you pressed the tie into his mouth as a gag. “You need to earn back your words, so make all those pretty little noises for me, yeah? I want you a moaning, whimpering mess by the time we’re done here.”

You grabbed his cock by the base again, maybe a little more sudden than you’d intended because he jumped and let out a muffled yelp. “C’mon, Aus. You can do it for me, darlin’.” You pumped his long shaft quickly, soaking in every little gasp or groan he’d give you. His muffled little whimpers made your cunt clench in anticipation, and arousal slipped between your legs. “Just like that, baby boy. Just like that.”

It only took a few more motions of your hand for him to be right on the edge. Tears spilled over his pretty lashes as he moaned into the tie. “Gonna come for me?” you asked. He nodded feverishly, ready to end the cycle of punishments you had for him, but you smirked before pulling away, pleased with having edged him to tears.

You took the wet gag from his mouth, a string of spittle following it as you placed it on the floor. Before he had the capacity to speak, you swiftly halted any communication with a heated kiss to his open mouth again, adoring the drooling sobbing mess that he’d become in the past couple of minutes.

Your fingers softly traced the angry veins in his cock without enough pressure to provide any relief, but enough contact to tease him and make his hips buck forward.

“Oh please, ma’am! Please let me come!” he whined again, another set of tears falling onto his cheeks. “Momma, please.”

You met his tearful gaze with a small smile and tilting your head to the side. “Didn’t you disobey me, though? You’re a greedy little boy who doesn’t know how to follow rules, and that kind of behavior deserves punishment,” you sighed as you peppered his face with light kisses—small rewards for all the noises he’d made.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I-I’m—momma, I’m sorry.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth again, looking him over and taking in the whimpering man underneath you. “You’re being awful good for me, baby boy. Get me off one more time and then we’ll talk about you coming. Can you be good for momma and get her off one more time?”

He seemed to sigh a breath of relief at that. “Y-yes, ma’am. Please, I’ll be g-good—I’ll make you feel so good.” Oh, that sounded like music to your ears.

“I’m going to take these off of you now, okay?” you grabbed the key from your purse. He eagerly leaned forward to allow more access to his wrists.

“So, I can touch you now?” he rasped, his hot breath fanning over your chest and making your breath hitch. Your eyes rolled back, suddenly eager for his lips on your body.

A light chuckle escaped your chest as you leaned closer and spoke, “Yes, you can touch me, Aus.”

Austin’s eyes closed in a silent prayer of thanks as he feverishly planted kisses along your neckline with small whispered promises of ecstasy and faint love proclamations. It all made the process of unlocking his right hand from the handcuffs a little hard to focus on, but the quiet click of the lock releasing came nonetheless.

As soon as the strand came loose from its gears and freed his wrist, Austin wrenched his arms forward, greedy hands roaming up your waist as he pulled your body closer to him. You gasped and clutched at the back of the couch and his head for the balance that he’d robbed with his lurch forward. The handcuffs still dangled from his left wrist, clinking together as he groped your body.

“Want me to get—“ you started offering to unlock the other handcuff, but he cut you off with a growl and more desperate kisses making their way up your neck.

“Just wanna feel you.” His low husky voice reverberated at your throat and you hummed in appreciation, dropping the key to the floor.

“You wanna feel me, baby?” You asked as his right hand took a fistful of your ass and his left slid up the side of your neck. You shivered at the cold metal of the handcuffs brushing up along your heated skin.

“Yes, ma’am I do,” he whispered.

“Go ahead, darlin’. Make me feel good like you always do.” And with that, he slipped the thin golden straps from your shoulders and pulled your dress down to reveal your breasts, nipples erect and ready to be worshiped by Austin. His left hand slipped down to massage one while he licked a stripe down to your nipple on the other side.

Oh, god. Your eyes closed on their own accord, focusing purely on the pleasure he supplied. His fingers moved from your ass to between your legs, dipping his middle and ring finger into your dripping pussy.

“Aus.” His name came out in a breathy mewl as he began a rhythmic circle on your sensitive clit with his thumb. Your breath hitched again when he curled his fingers and hit the spot just right that you couldn’t suppress a pornographic moan. “Oh, yes! Just like that!”

An orgasm lay right around the corner, and you were practically shaking as he continued. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry for disobeying you before.” The words fell from his lips in a slur, his voice rough and wet from neediness. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, squelching, moans, and heavy breathing filling the air around the both of you.

“Right there! Right—ah!” you exclaimed as the ecstasy blinded you. He muttered more incoherent apologies into your chest between your breasts as he palmed your skin and breathed in your scent. You rode his fingers as the world slowly lost its rosy hue, your fingers tangling themselves into the golden tresses at the nape of his neck.

“Yes, oh yes,” you panted, holding his head close to you. Austin hid his face into your neck, nibbling gently on the exposed flesh near your collarbone and pulse point.

“Such a good boy for me, Aus,” you praised, catching your breath and steadying yourself before pulling his head back by his hair. The lighting allowed you to see his wet cheeks and swollen lips. His pretty blonde lashes seemed to sparkle. He really was an incredibly beautiful man. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he was yours.

You brushed a stray tear from his cheek. “Good boys get their rewards. You ready to come? Want to come inside me?” God, it was dirty.

“Yes, please. Please let me fuck you,” he choked out. Music to your fucking ears. You loved it when he talked like that.

“Give it to me, Austin.” Despite being messy and overstimulated, you’d be damned if you didn’t get to come on his cock tonight.

You leaned up on your knees and gently guided his cock to your dripping cunt, hissing when the tip of his head brushed against your clit. Fuck, you were sensitive. You didn't care though; you sank down onto him quickly and he hissed a curse. You gripped his shoulders as you gasped, nails biting into his skin.

“Fuck, you feel divine,” he moaned. He clutched you closer. You didn’t respond as you began grinding a slow pace up and down.

“Whose cock is this?” You asked between pants. Austin’s face creased in pleasure and he gasped when you clenched down on him.

“Yours, baby, it’s yours. I’m yours.” He spoke with awe and passion, and when his eyes opened again to meet yours he looked at you like you were the world. You crashed your lips to his desperately. “Take me,” he gasped between kisses, “use me,” his hand slipped to your neck to pull you impossibly closer, “love me,” another kiss before he pulled away to growl, “own me.”

“‘S’right, Aus. You’re mine,” you breathed out. When you dropped down again, he hit that wonderful little sweet spot inside you, pushing you to the edge. Oh god! You picked up the pace a little, eager to chase the nearing euphoria.

Grinding, heaving, moaning, you tapped your fingers to his lips. “Open your mouth, babe.” He did, and you did something you never thought you’d ever do: you gathered all the saliva in your mouth and spat it into his. He was yours, yours, yours. Without missing a beat, a smile played on his lips. He never broke eye contact as he did something he didn’t think he’d do.

He swallowed it.

It was like a bolt of lightning. You were so close, so close, you wanted to sprint to the finish line. And from the looks of it, he was too, growling clutching your closer as you rode him at a now impossible pace. “You wanna come, Aus?”

“Please, momma! Please!” He moaned, his glassy eyes screwing shut as his sensitive head hit your cervix. You tightened your grip on his strong shoulders at the feeling.

“Come for me, Austin. Come inside me. Come for momma.”

One, two, three thrusts and you were both seeing stars. A string of curse words fell from his lips as he pumped his hot come into your cunt. Your nails bit into his shoulders, no doubt leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin. You trembled in his arms, over sensitive and catching your breath, and he was transported to another dimension—his long awaited orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks and the aftershocks pulled him closer to your skin as you both came down, clutching each other.

You held his head to your chest, stroking his hair and whispering sweet nothings and praises as he rode out his orgasm, thrusting deeper into you. “That’s it, baby, let go. Did so so good. Love you so much, darlin’. So much.” His eyelashes fluttered against your neck and his breath and hips gradually slowed. He slowly kissed your collarbone before raising his head to look over your equally flushed face.

“Shit,” he puffed, that post-orgasm glow highlighting his lopsided smile, “that was…” He couldn’t find the words. Seems you’d fucked him stupid.

“Earth-shattering?” You finished for him with a smile. He chuckled.

“Yes, ma’am. Earth-shattering.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that.

You bit your lip and turned your gaze downward as you spoke. “So I—it wasn’t… too much?” Daring a glance up, you met his pretty blues again, slowly returning to their normal sea shade. You’d never really had the chance to let your dominant side out in the past, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d taken things too far with him.

“Too much?” Austin repeated with a laugh. “Baby, listen to me carefully when I say this: you could have stepped on me and I’d have thanked you.” He grinned at the melodic laugh you let out at that.

“You like it when momma’s in charge?”

Austin grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

For a moment it was just you and Austin. You in his lap, his delicious cock still inside you, stroking his face, his fingers running up and down your arm. This game had finally come to a close and you both dropped the personas you’d adapted for the fun and it really was just two people hopelessly obsessed with each other again. But one thing was sure: this had opened the door to an entirely new set of sexual experiences that you could have in the future.

After all, you still had those handcuffs that would need to be broken out every now and then, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they might feel like on your skin one day too.

***

And that’s the story of how Austin found out he enjoyed being a sub. The End.

#this is pure filth #he’s a switch who got in touch with his subby side #i love subby men #austin butler #austin butler elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis #elvis movie #elvis presley #austin elvis imagine #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis film #austin butler x reader #austin smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #x reader #fanfic #fanfic smut #austin butler x you #sub!austin #austin butler imagine #now that no one is reading the tags anymore I wanna confess that this was far more impactful on me than I thought it’d be #and now I have a thing for men becoming whimpering messes #I’ve been agonizing over it for too long and finally said fuck it and posted it lol #and if you’re reading this take a sec to let me know how I can improve because I’m not 100% happy with this piece and want to get better #I’m rambling in the tags to procrastinate posting now aren’t I

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