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chososdiscordkitten · 3 months

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How JJK Men Jack Off.

Includes: 𝑯𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒂, 𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒐, 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐, 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊, 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐, 𝒏𝒅 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊 Content: jjk men fondling themselves to the thought of reader hehe, GN!Reader in all of em, will put cws before any of em :>

(a.n) I listened to sooo much country while writing this</3 nsfw under the cut- duh. I can go into severe, painful, thousand word long tangent on Choso's but I didn't wanna make this too long

MDNI

Hiromi Higuruma

Empty office, cursing, established relationship, spit, stressed Hiromi is sexier

I see Hiromi as the kind of guy to not do it so often. Before becoming a sorcerer I think he'd be at work, late at night, alone in the office. Rereading a casefile he couldn't crack and feeling irritation pound in his skull. Not knowing why he was so snappy or curt as of late. Then it would hit, because he hasn't gotten that poison out in a while. He'd do it more as a chore at first. Thinking with one orgasm he’ll be fine for another few days.

But when he’d undo his belt, the metal clinking making his eyebrows furrow. Slow fingers unzipping his slacks the way you'd do it, black briefs greeting him with a semi beneath the fabric. Pulling up the hem of his button up and tucking it between his teeth. The kind of man to not need porn or need to look at magazines to get hard. Hiromi had his imagination and relied on that.

If we included you in this, he'd remember the last time you were on your knees before him. How your pretty lips wrapped around him perfectly- how your eyes sparkled when you looked up at him. And if we're talking single Hiromi, he’d just picture a hand other than his own. No face hovering above it or anyone in specific.

Hiromi would start off slow, pulling his cock out in his office chair. Feet planted on the ground to keep the chair from swiveling. Looking on his desk to see if there was any lotion or anything to use as lube. The disappointment he felt when he realized he'd have to use his own spit and precum was humbling. But he was already on the road to being fully erect so what could he do?

Taking a light hand onto his tan base, sighing a straggled breath as he felt the warmth fill his palm. Fluttering his eyes closed as his head tipped back onto the plush chair. Lightly stroking his hand up and down to coax a few tears of precum from his pinkening tip. Pulling his hand from his hard cock, blinking his eyes open and gathering saliva on his tongue, spitting it onto his palm before hurrying it back to his cock. Wincing when he felt the spit press against his tip.

A soft exhale leaving his lungs as his hand squeezed his member. Spreading his spit and the clear precum down his shaft with closed eyes, lips parted as he took soft inhales, gently stroking his cock as he felt his orgasm build.

Definitely not the type to edge or overstimulate, especially when he's just jacking off to relieve some tension.

Hiromi tried to make this last as long as he could, his lips threatening to let out small comments to himself as he pictured you between his knees, “Feels so good-” he’d mumble quietly between soft moans. The hem of his shirt falling from his teeth. Trying to keep a slow pace from how good he was feeling. His skin searing beneath his suit as his hand tightened its grip.

Keeping a steady pace, his hand squeezed past his tip, a small ‘hah-’ in the shape of a moan left his lips at the sudden feeling. Eyes shut tight as his hand quickened its pace, the corner of his lips curling into a smile as warmth flooded in his tummy.

Unashamed whimpers would leave Hiromi’s lips, knowing you weren't there so he didn't have to hold them back. Bottom lip tucked beneath pearly white teeth as he struggled to let out a curse, “F-fuck-” as his wrist turned over, pumping himself at a new angle, his tip grazing his palm as his breathing quickened, eyes cracking open as his orgasm neared its edge.

Looking for a place to spurt his cum onto- not wanting to make a mess. Only to stand on wobbly feet, cock in hand as he pumped himself, hunched over his desk. Using his other for stability as shaky eyes scanned the top of the dark wood top. Littered in various papers and notes, looking over to the picture of you and him he had framed on his desk.

With a loud groan his seed spurted out of him without warning, huffs evading his throat as his hand slowed its pace. Softening cock in his palm as the realization he had just spilled his mess onto that stupid case file. Hiromi puffed in annoyance, letting go of his half soft cock and looking down at his mess. Heart pumping in his chest as he felt the small twitches in his body as he came down.

But he still felt that irritation fill his mind, even more now knowing that he'd have to reprint those stupid papers. Knowing when he got home he'd have to do it again and again till that irritation left his veins.

Choso Kamo

Pillowfucking, phone sex, use of sweet boy, baby and sweetheart, reader talks him through it, mentions of reader getting penetrated but nothing in detail.

With Choso I like to think he doesn't like doing it so often, especially if he has you. It almost feels like a betrayal to him. But when you'd be too busy or too tired, he'd do it. When I picture it I think of him laying on his side, in your shared bed, holding your pillow tightly laying his pj bottoms, no t-shirt so he could feel your scent on his skin.

Choso’s eyes were closed, inhaling deeply into the fabric. Thinking about you as he tried to sleep. And as his thoughts wandered through the memories of you, they trailed to the most intimate ones. Your blushed cheeks that his thumb would caress, the way your eyebrows furrowed when you were close, how soft your hands were against his skin.

Your gentle touch, the way your eyelashes would clump together when tears of pleasure would fall from your blinking eyes. How your soft skin feels against his lips when he would pepper kisses on every inch of your skin. The way you'd grip onto his back so harshly you’d leave hand prints when you’d finish.

Little by little, inhale by inhale, his cock showed him just how much he missed you. With a harsh inhale of your scent, his cock dripped a tear onto his pants. Softly bucking his hips up into your pillow, trying to soothe the ache that grew between his thighs. Huffing softly as the blood shot directly to his cock, tucking his lip between his teeth as he closed his eyes. Thinking about you- your eyelashes, your lips, the beauty marks that had the privilege of staying on your skin every waking moment.

Softly whining as his cock brushed against the pillow, he let out an unsatisfied puff from the lack of stimulation on his tip. Sitting up on his knees and pressing his growing bulge against the cloth, keeping his hands on the pillow as he looked down at it. Thinking how pitiful it was that he was considering doing what he was thinking of. He sighed, feeling his hair block the sides of his vision.

Choso trailed his hands from the sides of the pillow, picturing it was your torso- not the useless cotton. Wondering a hand to his thigh, blinking his eyes shut and picturing it was yours. Undoing the small bow on his checkered pants slowly, like you’d do it. Chest adorned with a roaming blush as his cockhead dribbled.

Pushing the band of his bottoms down as his cock strained against the fabric, a soft whimper leaving his lips at the tug. Wincing when it sprung from his pants, looking down and seeing how hard he was. Pinkening tip dribbling small tears of precum that smeared against the pillow case, easing himself down on the back of his calves, slowly bucking his hips- the tip of his needy cock dragging against the cloth cover.

Straightening his spine and tipping his head back, his hands on the pillow gripping harshly. Mouth cracking open as soft pants left his throat. Slowly thrusting against the pillow as he pictured it was you- frustrated that the warmth was non existent against his cock.

Oh but if you were here, it would be so warm. You'd be so warm, so wet just for him, picturing how you'd hug his cock perfectly.

Bucking into the cloth as his hands clutched onto your pillow harshly, soft grunts leaving his throat, threatening to form your name between them. Rolling his hips against the damp cloth, facing the ceiling as your name slipped from his plump lips. Hazy eyes going to close as he felt the knot in his tummy slip.

So focused on trying to cum, desperate hips rolling onto the pillow. Half lidded eyes aiming to roll back as he bucked harshly.

A loud ringing coming from his phone a few inches away from him threw Choso from his focus. Seeing your contact photo blaring on the screen was all it took for him to cum, hot cream colored tears spilling on your pillow. Unclenching his hand from the abused cushion and shakily reaching for the phone, small hic’s leaving his chest as he swiped ‘answer’, slowly rolling his hips back as he eased down from his orgasm.

“Hello?” he sighed breathlessly, the word sounding shaky and almost in a whimper as he hunched over the pillow, his cockhead brushing against his mess. Still hard and unsatisfied as waves of his previous orgasm rippled in his chest. ‘Hey- I know we talked earlier but-’ you were greeted with heavy breaths as you spoke, ‘-I felt the sudden need to call you…?’ your tone turned suspicious as he closed his eyes, his hips threatening to keep thrusting- greedily craving another orgasm.

He responded with a small whine, the urge to keep bucking into the soiled pillow was too much to think clearly. ‘What's wrong, why are you-’ you smiled with a scoff, “I just- really missed you-” he let out a small ‘ah-’ as he thrusted up into his cum, holding the phone close to his ear as you gathered what he was doing.

‘Awe, I miss you too sweet boy.’ you grinned, Choso huffed at the pet name. He let out a drawn out whine, his sensitive tip fucking into his mess at your words. Choso’s hips followed no set pace as he spilled out louder whines, showing you he was close. ‘There you go baby~’ you spoke sweetly, being able to recognize the adoration filled sounds he made when he was close. He grunted harshly, his hips rolling without pattern as he felt that knot come undone again in his tummy.

Eyebrows furrowed so tightly it was starting to hurt, dragging his hips back and forth as he worked himself towards another orgasm.

‘Therree you go.’ you hummed, hearing his heaving ease as he muttered small curses between moans. Being thrown into an orgasm almost immediately after the last one. His lower abs contorting as his tip spurt more of his seed onto your pillow, knowing if you had found out he was doing this on what you rested your head on, you wouldn't have been so nice, so he made sure to keep that little tidbit to himself. ‘Feel better?’ you crooned through the phone, hearing the softening whimpers, Choso nodded his head slowly, a droplet of sweat trailing down his temple.

“Yes-” he took a deep breath, “I feel better- thank you.” he huffed with a shaky tone, cheeks pink and tingling from your kindness, slowly easing off of your pillow, ‘Don't thank me sweetheart, I didn't do nothin.’ he tossed himself onto the bed, phone on his ear as he heard your soft tone. ‘S’late, clean up nd go to bed for me, okay?’ you instructed, hearing him let out a small grunt at the task. Twitching as he laid on his side.

Shaky hands and fluttering eyes as he smiled at your tone, “Okay. Goodnight-” he breathed your name sweetly, hearing you bid a goodbye and hang up. Shivering shoulders and twitching thighs as he eased down from the orgasm you threw him into violently using your words. Sighing as his hair eased onto the pillows, frustrated knowing he'd have to clean up his desperate mess sooner or later.

Satoru Gojo

Public bathroom, phone sex, use of baby, dirty talk (duh), gojo calls reader pretty, insinuated reader also yknow

Gojo for sure squeezes his snake more often than not. Especially when you aren't around to assist, the type to try and use his imagination, eyes squeezed tight trying to focus. But he'd get frustrated enough to pull out his phone, he'd try to find pictures or videos of you he took or ones you've sent him.

And if we're talking single Gojo, no you included, he would hesitantly watch porn- only for a few minutes, and never a complete video. Too cautious of the whole ‘porn addiction’ thing.

I see him being between missions, tense and walking past the many shops on the sidewalk. A shit eating grin plastered on his face when he saw the banner for a sex store a few feet away. Remembering how you made a comment of how hot you found phone sex. And how it's a shame that he never calls you unless it's a few seconds long to tell you he's on his way home.

Stepping out of the store's entrance, small pink bag in hand as Gojo looked for a public restroom that was secluded. A small giggle left his throat when he found a public family bathroom. Taking his phone out of his pocket and clicking the dial on your contact, waiting as he held the phone on his shoulder. Placing the pink bag on the sink, pulling out the small bottle of lube and ripping the plastic seal.

‘Hey- I was just thinkin’ about you.’ You spoke through the phone, hearing him let out a delighted scoff, “I was thinking about you too~” he smiled through his tone, making you suspicious because he only used that specific tone when he was up to no good. ‘What’re you up to ‘toru?’ you asked with a detective tone, hearing a cap open through the phone.

“Nothin hehe~” he grinned, placing the phone on the counter and clicking the speaker button. “You remember when you told me how much you liked phone sex?” he grinned shamelessly, pushing his blindfold up and eyeing the small bottle of lube before taking his hand to his clothed cock. Palming it slowly as he waited for your reply.

‘Toru I'm at work-’ you defended, knowing exactly where this was going. Fondling himself with a smile, “Technically so am I~” he grinned, undoing his belt and the button of his uniform pants. “You don’t even have to do nothin- just talk to me~” he smiled, pulling his cock from his briefs and looking at it awaiting your reply.

‘Are you being serious?’ you asked, rushing out of your cubicle and hushing into the phone. “Mm- I’m being so serious.” he hummed through pursed lips, “Take some responsibility - I'm leaking cause of yooouu~” he smiled, tilting his head as a dribble of precum spilled from his tip. ‘Hold on- lemme go to a bathroom-’ you hurried to the elevator- feeling a sprinkle of shame at how riled up the thought had you.

Gojo spurt out a decent amount of lube onto his hand, a toothy smile adorning his lips as he pressed it to his cock with an over exaggerated moan. Your eyes going wide at the sudden increase of volume. ‘I thought you weren't coming home till friday?’ you urged in a whisper, hearing him let out small whimpers as he stroked himself slowly. “I do, but I missed you sooo-” the word formed into a moan as he squeezed past his tip. Pressing your thighs together hearing the vulgar sounds.

“-so so much.” he finished the sentence, making your face heat up and closing your eyes. Picturing what he looked like right now. Rushing out of the metal doors and into the family bathroom, locking it and pressing your back against the wall as filthy moans invaded your ears. ‘I missed you too, ‘toru.’ You sighed, hearing the loud squelching from his hand.

“Fuck- say that again.” he whined, Gojo’s eyebrows pinched together as his hand sped up its pace. ‘I missed you so much Satoruuu~’ Playing into his game, hearing a content moan fall from his lips as he thumbed the edge of his tip. Gojo let out a small huff feeling his hand push him up that ledge, ‘You sound so pretty ‘toru~’ You smiled, thighs pressed tightly together as he let a forced laugh leave his lips.

“I’m sooo close-” he smiled, pressed against the wall next to the sink as he stroked his cock harshly with filthy squelches, knees threatening to buckle. ‘You get all hot nd bothered by just my voice?’ you teased hearing his breathing quicken, “I get all hot nd bothered by just thinking about you-” he huffed, the phone screen turning on and seeing your contact photo, “You're so pretty-” he whined, almost complaining as his back threatened to arch against the wall.

“I wish you were here-” he huffed, hearing you smile through the words, ‘I know- I know.’ you smiled, inching your hand closer to the band of your bottoms, “M’cumming-” he clenched his teeth together, “fuckfuckfuck-” he babbled through pursed lips, teeth gritting with hot ears and cerulean eyes rolling to the back of his skull.

Reaching into your own bottoms to take care of the issue he raised. With a loud grunt he came- spurting his mess onto the filthy floor, uncaring if he made a mess. His shoulders shivering as his pale shaft twitched against his own hand. The sounds of his unashamed whimpers ringing through your ears, ‘Now that you're finished-’ you smiled, shoving your bottoms down and hearing his heaving slow, chest flexing from the ripples of his orgasm ‘Take some responsibility for how you have me.’ you mocked his words.

The words made his softening cock spring back to life, “You're so naughty~” he teased almost in a whine, hearing you let out a content hum, ‘If im naughty then you're filthy.’ you took a sharp inhale, batting your eyes closed as your hand continued slowly. “I am.” he muttered, stroking his cock once more as his ears ate up the small pants and whimpers from the phone. “I am.” he admitted proudly, trying to shake off the sensitivity that rumbled through his cock head.

Kento Nanami

Thinks of reader whilst yknow, cursing, not a lot cws needed, just really, really messy

Yet another man who thinks of it as a chore. I see Nanami coming home from work, no blazer or tie and three buttons undone at the top of his collar. Not having the gall to actually do it anywhere but his home. Exhausted from being on his feet all day, lounging on the couch with a glass of bourbon in his hand. Thinking of things he could do to unwind. It wasn't late enough to go to bed, nor was it early enough- or respectful to call you to see if you'd want to stay the night.

Offensively manspreading, Nanami’s hand subconsciously trailing to his groin, gently placing his palm onto his bulge as he thought, hesitating to move his hand against himself. Pretending to ponder what he could do other than this.

Reading would take too much focus and that's precisely what he did not want to do. Tired physically- but not tired enough to sleep. I see Nanami as the type to think about it for a while- toying with the idea of it for way too long.

And when he finally thinks on it long enough to start thinking about you, he'd put down his glass, palming his semi through the layers of fabric. Softly exhaling at the friction, closing his eyes and dropping his head back as his lips parted. Palming himself over his khakis as his mind flashed through images of you.

The kind of man to try and picture your face, your laugh, your features. But as a man does, his mind would trail to thoughts of what hid beneath your clothing. And if Nanami doesn’t have you, he'd try and think back to the last porn video he watched, just something to get his imagination going.

With a frustrated sigh Nanami removed his palm from his buldge, undoing the belt buckle with hurry, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding down the zipper- almost tearing it from how hurried he was to get his stiffening cock out from the fabric.

Gasping softly as his hands hesitantly pushed the band of his briefs down, greeted by his leaking cock that needed a small push to be fully erect. Wrapping his calloused fingers around his thick shaft, exhaling as his digits caressed the trail of precum oozing down his shaft. His breath picked up as his hand lazily stroked his stiff cock.

Brown eyes struggling to stay open as his lips parted ever so slightly, daring to let out low moans directly from his lungs.

Unwilling though, they rumbled from his throat as he grazed the pads of his fingers over his crying cockhead. Shivering at the ridges of his finger tips against his cockhead. This man's cock is soooo sensitive, I know it in my bones.

Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried holding back the moans, tightening his grip as he stroked softly past his darkening tip. Huffing out of his nose as his other hand started undoing the buttons of his shirt, feeling his skin radiate beneath the blue fabric. Thick fingers struggling with the tiny buttons as the hand on his cock sped up with urge.

As he let the air hit his pecs, a light blush spread on his swelled chest. His lungs threatened to falter, attempting to remind himself to breathe.

Huffing heavily as his hand undid four buttons before clutching onto the edge of the couch tightly, knuckles turning white as his breathing quickened to pants. His vision went dizzy behind closed eyes picturing you, the knot in his tummy tightening little by little.

Nanami’s pink tip oozing precum assisted his tight fist as he stroked himself, a low whimper leaving his throat as his head ducked forward, muttering small curses between heavy breaths as his hips bucked into his fist lazily. Gritting his teeth as he hung his head back onto the couch. Throat dry from his heavy pants, a small shiver rumbling through his shoulders as his fist squeezed past his tip.

Nose scrunched and eyes half closed, a sliver of light invading his pupils as he pushed himself past his climax. Shoulders trembling as he slowed his hand on his cock, working himself through the high. Mouth hung open in a dry moan as the feverish seed coated his hard working hand. So much of it that it trickled down to his twitching balls.

Groaning as the mess coated his cock, feeling it soften in his palm as he stroked it slowly- eyes threatening to roll back from the oversensitivity. Heavy breaths and twitching shoulders as he overworked himself for the second time that day. Pumping his semi soft cock to try to draw out the overwhelming bliss he felt at that moment.

Holding onto his soft member as he looked down, distraught at the mess that coated his hand and his slacks. Making a note to scold you for how desperate you had him before he got up to shower. Feeling his shirt stick to his back from how worked up he was.

Suguru Geto

Established relationship, dirty talk, wakes up horny ;~;- he looks at a pic of reader with HIS SUBSTANCE on their face, spit, cursing, mentions of face fucking

With Geto I think he tries to be clean with it- in the shower or make sure to shoot his load onto something to avoid making a mess. I see him having trouble staying asleep, huffing and puffing. Tossing and turning as he tried to find a solution unconsciously. Blinking his eyes open, confused as to why he was sweating in his sleep.

Sitting up and parting his lips trying to soothe the dry mouth he woke up to. Only to look down with furrowed eyebrows and squinted eyes, a groaning huff from his chest ignoring the tent in his boxers as he looked over at the clock. 3:45 am.

He’d lay back down and try to go back to sleep. Not wanting to find the energy to deal with the paining bulge in his boxers. Switching positions, squeezing his eyes shut as he toyed with the idea.

But you know what Geto thought was a better solution than dealing with it himself?

Looking over to the you shaped bump below the blankets, seeing you steadily breathing as he called your name once, too quiet for you to hear. Wondering why you weren't sweating just as much as he was. Huffing at your sleeping state, sitting there for a few seconds, blinking away the sparks of sleep he wasn't able to melt back into.

Looking back down to the betrayal that chose to wake him up, moving his lips to the side as he picked up his phone from his nightstand. Easing off of the bed slowly as he stepped out of the bedroom, not wanting to wake you.

Walking towards the guest bathroom- wanting to keep as many walls between you and him as possible so you wouldn't stir awake. Standing in the dim bathroom, the moon illuminating the porcelain sink as Geto unlocked his phone. Gently palming the hard on that was bulging in his boxers as though he was a teenage boy. Almost scolding himself for not being able to control himself as he slept next to you.

His eyes scanning the filthy pictures he took of you. Gripping his fingers around his clothed cock that threatened to make a mess in his boxers. Taking his hand from his bulge and holding his phone in the other. Geto’s free hand making quick work of his boxers and slipping them past his thighs, landing on the ground with a hiss from his lips at the cold air hitting his crying tip, his thumb scrolling as he tried finding the perfect picture.

Licking his bottom lip as he placed his hand on his bare pale shaft with a sigh, looking at the photo splayed in full screen on his phone. His seed coating your cheeks, your nose, and most of it on your tongue as you looked up into the camera with wonderfilled eyes. That was more than enough to pull his hand from his cock and spit onto it harshly. Not having the patience- nor caring enough to actually go get lube from the bedroom.

Teeth gritted as Geto stroked his cock- his grasp tight to make this as quick as he could. Low eyes looking directly to his phone, holding his grunts in his chest as he tucked his lip between his teeth. Working his hand against his shaft roughly, squeezing past his tip as he spread his precum down his member. The hazy state of his mind assisting with how good this felt.

Placing his brightly lit phone onto the porcelain as he gripped onto the ledge of the sink, trying his best to hold back the choked moans that he knew would be too loud for this time of night.

His hand was rough, and quick as he fondled his painful erection. Feeling his eyes roll to the back of his head as he fluttered them closed. Lips parting as a soft grunt left them, picturing you were on your knees below him, practically able to feel your warmth radiate onto his cock. So in detail that his lips taunted to form the praises he’d spout to you.

Knees threatening to buckle as he formed the words, “That's it-” he whispered, hand clutching onto the edge of the sink harshly, the tips of his fingers turning white from the lack of blood flowing to them. “Just like that.” his voice was louder- clear enough to make his cheeks tingle from the embarrassment of what he was doing right now.

Geto let out a hushed whimper from trying to contain his moans, leaning his hips over the sink as he felt himself ascend to the pinnacle he woke up to take care of. His hand made vulgar squelching from how hard he was working himself, fist so tight that he was practically strangling his cock.

Holding his fist onto the porcelain as he angled his hips higher, thrusting back and forth violently as he let out choked grunts. Treating his fist as though it was you he was mouth fucking, not his hand. Lowering his head down- strands of raven hair falling to the sides of his profile as his eyebrows knitted together, mouth hung open in a drawn out grunt. Raising his hips as he angled the tip of his cock into the sink.

Breathing in ragged breaths as he muttered a “M’cumming-” over and over again. With a louder grunt than he expected- he threw himself off the ledge of his orgasm, eyes squeezed tight as his hips refused to falter in how quickly he was thrusting into his fist.

Harsh hips slamming his cock into his hand, “That's it-” he spat through gritted teeth, mind fogged as he tried wrangling his overwhelmed senses. Feeling himself come down from the orgasm he pulled from deep in his lower tummy. His hips slowing their patternless thrusts, his bottom lip trembling as he overworked his cock.

Hesitatingly slowing his hips as his cock softened in his hand, softly humming as he eased his grip against the sink. Ragged breaths leaving his chest as he tried to contain the whimpers that he had been holding in since the beginning, his head pounding from the forced silence.

Hazy eyes looking down to the mess he spilled onto the porcelain, barely able to see it from the lack of light. Exhaling quickly as he reached the hand that was clutched on the edge of the sink to the metal knobs, watching as the water washed away his seed.

Reaching for a decorative hand towel and holding it beneath the warm water. Cleaning his shaft slowly with a hiss before washing his hands. Dying them with the matching hand towel. Tossing them into an empty hamper and lazily pulling up his briefs. Acting like this was no big deal as he walked back into the bedroom. Feeling at peace as he drifted back to sleep.

Toji Zenin

Cold showers, he feels things for reader, 2 orgasms, cursing

Another man who prefers not to make a mess, after a few attempts of jacking off in other places, Toji found it easier to get it over with in the shower. I see him as the type to Pavlov himself into associating showers with orgasms- which makes me laugh in all honesty. So much so that he thought the solution would be cold showers. But those never worked.

Slowly lathering himself with soap as he kept his eyes closed, the cold water against his skin as he thought of what he was to do after this. Making a sloppy mental checklist as his mind trailed to thoughts of you. Of the last time he saw you, and how his chest swelled knowing he was going to see you later that day earning his soft cock to respond with a mindless jump.

Water making his chest glisten, accentuating the ridges of his abs as he tried fighting off the filth that invaded his mind.

Irking his head to the side as he felt that specific warmth pool in his lower tummy. Sucking his teeth sharply as the cold water washed off the soap bubbles from his body. Cracking his eyes open in defeat, cock raising into a semi as he pushed back the hair that stuck onto his forehead. Nodding his head ‘no’ back and forth at the stupidity of his cock getting hard by just the thought of you.

Placing his calloused hand on his fat shaft, closing his eyes once more as the water provided him with more than enough lubricant. Heart pounding in his chest as his thumb rubbed against the edge of his reddening cockhead. Toji’s scarred lips pressed tightly together as he tried holding back grunts from deep in his chest.

Furrowing his eyebrows- trying to put on a farce of this not feeling like anything for no one but his pride. Toji’s mind went blank as he stroked himself, wrist turning over his tip as his other hand planted onto the wall, trying to keep his balance. Clenching his jaw as his precum blended in with the running cold water.

Toji always tried to make it quick- but his cock never agreed. Often taking 20-30 minute showers trying to make himself finish, not because he couldn't- but he'd try to think of nothing as he came. Not wanting to condition himself into actually liking you.

Trying to keep his mind blank as he fought off the conquering thoughts of you. His eyebrows threatened to unfurrow as he felt himself succumb to those heartfelt thoughts. A small grunt left Toji’s parting lips, thankful it was disguised by the running water.

Tightening the grip on his cock as he put more power behind his heavy stroked. Ducking his head as his hair stuck onto his temple, holding his hand on the wall as his lungs started panting, his fist quickening its harsh movements, mind full of the sweetest poison you planted into his brain.

“Fuckk-” Toji drew out slowly, his hand squelching past his fat tip as his abs clenched, trying to catch his breath as his unforgiving hand refused to listen to his mind.

His calves burning from how hard he was flexing his muscles- all of his focus drawn to cumming as the water pulsed against the crown of his head. Lips parted and eyebrows pinched upwards, nose crinkled as he felt the premature orgasm rip through him. Heavy pants between grunts as his seed gushed from his tip, disappearing down the drain. Mouth hung open in an ‘O’ as his hand slowed its movements.

Being able to clear his clouded mind as his fist worked him down. Catching his breath as his still hard cock pulsed in his hand. Groaning in frustration at the need to cum again. Almost spiteful, he tightened his grip once more on his cock, thighs spasming as he overstimulated his cockhead. His eyes blinked to the back of his head as he pulled his focus from his shaft to his tip.

Toji’s expression contorted into a scowl, clearer grunts leaving his rasped throat as he pulled himself into another orgasm, pushing his hand off the wall and leaning onto the cold tile. His head pressed against the damp wall as his knees dared to fold, mouth hung open once more as the cold water trickled down his searing skin.

A drawn out string of curses as his balls tightened, all but pouting, he came to the intruding thoughts of you. Practically hyperventilating as a loud grunt left his sweltering chest.

Toji’s cum oozing out of his tip, sighing contently between throaty grunts. Working himself past the pinnacle the thought of you brought him to. Cursing you mentally for how you had him. Heart pounding so hard it was painful, trying to fill his lungs with air as his mouth hung open in a soundless moan. Taking his hand from his softening cock as he leaned into the wall, swallowing harshly as he steadied his breath. Turning to face the shower head, his shaky hand reached for the body wash once more, nodding his head ‘no’ to himself as the irked feeling seeped into his mind again. Lathering up his body as he washed off the sweat that mixed with the freezing water.

I had so much fun writing this. If only y'all saw how much p0rn I watched trying to study men jorking it. my internet searches were insane bruh. the ciggie I lit after I posted this was like a reward

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loveshotzz · 6 months

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My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Hell N Back

summary: A flash flood warning, a week of cancelled plans, and the night Steve Harrington shows up at your front door.

wc: 5.2k

warnings: 18+ mentions of weed smoking (r), thigh riding, fingering, oral (fem receiving) and you know I can’t get enough of making Steve cum in his pants.

A/N: thank you all for your patience with this one, and thank you for reading 🥹♥️

🎃<- chapter two | mini series masterlist

It felt like it had been raining for days, the downpour never ceasing until there were flash flood warnings lighting up the bottom of your TV screen by the end of the week. You hadn’t seen Steve since Tina’s party, every plan that your group had getting canceled by the clouds that never seemed to want to leave Hawkins.

Heavy droplets hit your window in the living room in sporadic patterns, the wind outside making the howling noise you’ve only ever heard on your favorite horror movies. The flicker of your candles dance along your walls, mixing with the warm glow of your string lights just like that night, and for once you don’t try and stop the thoughts of him that threaten to consume the rest of your evening.

Laying bundled up on the couch in a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized sweater, the black and white sci fi movie The Empire of The Ants plays on your TV while Elvira’s bubble gum sweet voice cracks lewd jokes over the B rated film. The Halloween Macabre special was your only saving grace this week, that and the thick fuzzy Jack O Lantern socks on your feet gifted from Robin.

You giggle to yourself at a joke about her boobs in particular, the half smoked joint on your coffee table makes it easy to wonder if Steve would have thought it was funny too.

Jesus Christ.

You huff a little, pulling the throw blanket closer to your chin, eyebrows furrowing in a pout.

How did this happen? When did this happen?

Before you have time to think too hard about it, lights flash behind your blinds dancing across the exposed glass in the opening from outside. You keep your eyes trained on it until they cut and the darkness from before takes over, shrugging it off to it being your neighbor coming home from work. Shuffling your feet under your blanket, you burrow yourself further into the cushions finally getting the level of comfort you’d been searching for since the movie started, but it only lasts a couple of minutes. Three melodic knocks rattle your front door, scaring you out of your fleece cocoon and onto your carpeted floor.

“God dammit!” You grunt, pushing yourself up and tossing the blanket on the couch, “Fucking Munson.”

It’s only when you get halfway to your door that you realize it’s definitely not Eddie or he would have let himself in with the spare. Your footsteps stop as you remember that this is actually how every single horror movie starts out. It’s almost as if whoever it is can read your mind, and a familiar voice calls out from the other side.

“It’s Steve!”

Relief floods your system, and your shoulders slump as your heart rate starts to calm, but then the realization that Steve Harrington was on the other side of your door unannounced just kicks it back up again. Especially when you look down at what you’re wearing.

“If this is weird or you have someone over, I can leave!“ He talks loud enough to be heard over the rain, but it still threatens to drown him out.

“No!” You don’t mean to yell when you answer, clearing your throat, you try to play it off when you continue, “I’m coming, sorry I’m coming!”

Taking a deep breath you pad the few extra steps to your door, straightening your shoulders before your fingers wrap around the handle. There’s a silent count to three before you actually open it.

The sound of the rain you’d only heard muffled from behind your window grows tenfold, making you wince at the difference at just how hard it’s still coming down. A chilled mist hits your exposed skin from the wind, sending a shiver down your spine and you’re met face to face with a very wet version of the boy you were just thinking about.

“Jesus, Steve! Why didn’t you call?!” You scold, stepping aside to let him into the warmth of your apartment. Shutting the door quickly behind him, a flash of lighting illuminates half the night sky followed by a low roll of thunder.

“I know, I know.” He gives, running a hand through his soaked hair pushing it out of his face. His smile almost looks victorious when he shows you the whites of his teeth. “My power went out.”

His Hawkins Community College sweater clings to parts of his stomach and chest, the worn heather gray cotton turning dark. The water makes the blue denim on his legs even tighter than normal, sticking to him like a second skin and you have to actively stop your eyes from lingering as he drips a mess onto your floor. His white sneakers squish, completely drenched down to his socks and he still somehow looks handsome as ever.

“Robin lives like two blocks away from you.” You arch your brow, flipping your lock to stop anymore horror movie cliches from happening, only for the string lights in your living room to flicker as you do. The energy in the air is laughing at you.

Steve’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of the rosy pink they were from the cold of the storm, and that’s when you notice the shopping bag.

“Did your power actually go out?” The corners of your mouth twitch, crossing your arms across your chest. The bottom hem of your sweater lifts higher up your thighs and Steve licks his lips, following it.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he huffs out an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “What a weird lie, right?”

“Kinda,” you giggle, eyes catching the colorful packaging of the popcorn and Red Vines inside the plastic in his hand, the knot in your stomach tightens knowing that he’s been thinking about you too.

“I just felt like if I had called I wouldn’t-“ he coughs looking anywhere but you, “I heard from Eddie that Elvira’s Halloween special was on tonight and I just thought, you know we had kinda talked about it before-“

“Do you want to get out of those clothes?” You cut him off, making his eyes snap up wide. “I mean, wow, that came out a little forward.”

It’s your turn to laugh awkwardly.

“Eddie just leaves stuff here all the time, I clean it obviously or it’d make my place reek.” You try to explain in an attempt to break the tension and it works when you get that lopsided grin that makes you go shy. “I’m sure I’ve got some sweats and a shirt that would fit, I can throw your wet clothes in the dryer if you want?”

Steve’s shoulders relax, nodding, pushing back that loose strand that drips falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

——

When Steve hands you his wet clothes through the crack of your bathroom door, it makes your brain stop working for a second. You catch a glimpse of his bare back in the mirror, littered with more moles and freckles that would make the sky hidden behind the clouds jealous. With thicker thighs than your best friend, it makes the cotton of the sweatpants that hang low on his hips stretch tight over his butt. The dark patch of chest hair that’s always just been teased comes into full view right in front of you and your throat goes dry. Why did it look so soft?

Steve catches you staring, the tips of his ears dusting red before mumbling a mess of sorry’s shutting the door again. You shout an awkward apology of your own, soft thumps on your carpet as you hurry the wet clothes to your dryer. Silently scolding yourself to get it together, feeling the heat rise from your neck to your face, even warming your ears. God, he looked even better without a shirt on.

“You’re good, everything’s chill, you’re totally fine it’s just Steve.” You whisper under your breath, tossing the clothes into the machine with a wet plop. The last part has you rolling your own eyes at yourself, throwing in a couple of dryer sheets for good measure.

Your nerves make you want to keep busy, so you start rummaging through the bag he brought in the kitchen. Butterflies taking flight in your rib cage when it’s everything the two of you had picked out that first night. You bite your lip to hide your smile, opening the popcorn to put in the microwave when you hear the soft click of the bathroom door opening. His feet sound heavier than yours on the carpet,and you make sure to have your back towards him when he finally enters the kitchen. Plugging in the minutes, the loud beeps of your microwave only add to the tension that hangs thick, almost suffocating you in the air.

“I mean, everything fits… I guess.”

He breaks the silence right as the low hum kicks on and you watch the small bag start to spin on the glass plate. You collect yourself quietly before turning around, not expecting the sight you’re met with to send you into a fit of giggles. Slapping a hand over your mouth in an attempt to stop it, you take in the faded black Iron Maiden shirt you gave him.

You realize now with him standing in front of you that it's a size too small for the King of Hawkins, probably one of Eddie’s old one’s from high school. The worn fabric fits tight over his chest, making ‘Eddie’s’ face stretch distorted over his pecs. The sleeves look ready to burst at the seams, and the bottom hem refuses to meet the top of his sweats. Revealing a little sliver of his tan skin and the beginnings of the thick happy trail you’ve shamelessly thought so much about.

It’s the cutest you think he’s ever looked, besides that one summer he worked at Scoops Ahoy.

“Hey! That doesn’t make me feel very good.” Steve chuckles, his cheeks becoming a permanent shade of red for the night.

“No, no, you look cute!” You try to get out, but the snort he gives you in response makes you giggle harder. “I promise, I wouldn’t lie to you!”

The way your lips twitch when you say it makes his eyes roll, but even with a shake of his head, the smile on his face gives him away. He can’t be mad, not when you just called him cute.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He runs a hand through his hair that’s already started to dry, curling in wisps behind his ears. The gold that kisses the tips shimmers in the low light of the kitchen.

The unexpected first loud pops of the kernels stop any other words that sit on the tips of your tongues, making you both jump at the sudden outburst.

“Why don’t you go warm up on the couch, since you decided to come over for a date during the storm of the century and I’ll bring the snacks out.” You try to keep your tone as even as possible, refusing to meet his eyes after saying the ‘D’ word, busying yourself again with grabbing cups for some hot tea.

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat from across the room in the moment of silence that follows. Not even realizing you're holding your breath until you feel the heat of his palm against the small of your back and it exhales through nervous lips.

He smells like the rain that won’t stop pouring outside with notes of cedar from his cologne. There’s an undertone of the lilac from your dryer sheets. He’s spring in the middle of autumn, leaning in close to your ear.

“Only if I get to be the big spoon again.”

The way your cheeks push up, and your lashes flutter against the tops of them when he makes his intentions clear, he thinks he’d drive through a hurricane to get to you.

——-

When you get to the living room he’s lying where you were earlier, doing his best to get comfortable, but the size of the shirt has him pulling at the sleeves to get them to loosen up. Muttering under his breath, your giggle is what catches his attention. Big chestnut eyes look up at you, and all the annoyance on his face drains with a smile he can’t contain.

“What? It’s literally cutting off my circulation.” He laughs sitting up, his hair now completely out of control. “You sure this is Munson’s?”

“Yes, but I’m starting to think from, like, junior year.” You try to hide your grin when his jaw drops in disbelief.

“That explains a lot,” he scoffs

You watch him lean forward to grab a handful of the popcorn, the fabric restricting him again, and both of you hear the faint sounds of a tear. His eyes lock with your in a dead stare making you throw your head back in a full bellied laugh. Rib cage tightening just like your chest with the realization of how much you actually like him.

“I’m glad you’re having a good laugh, you’re lucky you’re so pretty, I’ll tell you that much.” He grumbles reaching forward for the popcorn again only this time is successful, probably due to the rip, and something shifts in the air when his words sink in.

“Sometimes it gets me out of things.” You grin, a little shy just for him.

“I’m not surprised in the slightest.” He licks the butter off of his fingers, pink lips wrapping around the tips as he leans back into the cushions. He watches how it makes your thighs press, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“Are you gonna keep hogging the couch or are you makin’ room for me?” You fake annoyance gesturing toward the way he's manspread on the cushions, doing your best to try and cover up how flustered you feel, but the way his eyes seem to light up tells you it isn’t working.

Shifting himself back to lay on his side, he lifts the covers with raised eyebrows and the kind of shit eating grin you want to kiss off of him.

“I was just waiting to see if you were gonna stand the whole movie or not.”

You make him snort when you roll your eyes, and he tries to play it cool when the smell of your apple blossom body wash fills his senses as you take the small space he’s made for you next to him. Swallowing hard, you leave a little bit of room between you, the nerves in your stomach starting to feel like an Olympic gymnast is competing for the gold. The heat of his breath fans against the back of your neck, his own insecurity making it come out a little shaky having you this close again. The tension breaks when he goes to wrap his arm around you and another sound of a rip hits both your ears.

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles over your fit of giggles, his face turning a deeper shade of red that you can’t see. “I swear I’m not trying to take my clothes off but this is not working honey.”

His laugh puffs across your skin, making goosebumps rise when he shifts to sit up a little bit. Turning your head, you meet his anxious eyes over your shoulder.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you shirtless Harrington,” you tease, your own face heating up in memory of the view you got minutes ago in your bathroom.

“It’s not, like, going to make you uncomfortable or anything right? I swear this isn’t like a move - not that I don’t want to make a move -“ The boy looks panicked, his signature tell of running his hand through his hair coming into play.

“Steve, it’s fine, take it off” you giggle, “It’s clearly a size too small.”

He huffs out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, rosy cheeks deflating before a toothy grin spreads across his face.

“Okay, yeah, al-alright.”

You turn your attention back to the TV to give him some ‘privacy’, your heart going into overdrive when you see the fabric drop to the floor in front of you. The couch shifts under his weight as he lays back down, and for a second you think you can hear his heart over your own. Tentative hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging into your softness when he pulls you in, the warmth of his bare chest seeps through the thick fabric of your sweater and your body melts against it. You feel the way it makes him relax behind you, a stubble covered chin hooking over your shoulder while your feet tangle with his. A content hum, leaves from between his lips next to your ear, the tip of his nose nudging behind it as he snuggles closer and it feels like he’s breathing you in.

“Mmm, so what’d I miss?” His voice comes out a little sleepy, and you hate the way it makes your thighs press. You wonder if he could feel it.

“So basically this woman cons people to buy houses on this island,” you start, stuttering when you feel the tips of his fingers under your sweater that sits rucked up to your waist, “And when they get there someone had dumped human waste creating these giant ants that hate humans.”

“Oh that’s…interesting,” he tries, making you laugh and it has him smiling into the crook of your neck.

“It’s ridiculous, it’s okay, that’s why she’s making fun of it.” You grin, running your fingers down his forearm, finding his hand that's made a home on the curve of your tummy to give it a reassuring squeeze.

He takes the opportunity to keep you there, intertwining your fingers and pulling you even closer. The sound of the rain against your window gets heavier, and the roll of thunder gets louder. The flicker of your candles makes the storm raging outside seem relaxing from the inside, and you can’t believe he drove all the way over here in this, just to cuddle with you on the couch. Somehow trying to burrow yourself into him even deeper, the wiggle of your hips when you readjust makes the air shift.

Your sleep shorts and the cotton of his sweatpants don’t hide what his jeans did. His grip on your hand tightens, and he bites his tongue to stop the moan that's begging to slip out when you do it again. His nose nudges harder behind your ear, exhaling a huff through it that makes you shiver.

“Honey,” it comes out as more of a plea than a warning, his lips that you’ve yet to feel against your own ghosting against the sensitive spot on your neck.

The feeling of how much he wants you pressing into the small of your back is what gives you the courage to turn around in his arms, ready to finally do what you’ve wanted since the last time you found yourself here. He lets your fingers slip through his, always keeping his palm against your skin until it sits on the small of your back. Both of yours land on the dark patch of hair on his chest that's even softer than it looks, slowly sliding them up till the pads of your thumbs trace his collar bone. With your head resting on one of his arms, his other pulls your bodies flush together before his thigh finds space between your own sliding you close enough for your noses to brush.

His half lidded eyes meet yours, and your breath catches in your throat when you see how they darken. He takes his time, letting his hand roam on its way from your back, fingers tracing up your ribs before the warmth of his big palm envelopes the already heated skin on your cheek. His gaze flicks down to your parted lips, licking his own while his thumb traces the pout begging him for a kiss.

“Please,” he whispers ,not knowing he beat you to it.

The connection is soft at first, just your top lip brushing against his bottom but it’s enough to make every inch of your skin come alive. A low groan rumbling deep from his chest, vibrating against your hands. He meets your eyes one more time down the slope of his nose before he closes the distance with nothing held back anymore, kissing you in a way that makes you feel like you’ve never been kissed the right way before. It’s like he knows just how to make your toes curl when they slot together, the tip of his tongue wasting no time when you sigh giving him the opening he needs. The blunt ends of your nails dig into the warmth of his skin, leaving half crescent moons over his pecs that’ll be hidden by the thick chestnut hair that covers them.

Your tongue meets his eagerly, cedar and rain making you dizzy when the top of his thigh adds pressure to the heat between your legs. Your noses bump, teeth scraping together while his hand leaves your cheek to squeeze at your hips encouraging the small roll they start to do on their own. The mess in your underwear only gets worse letting you move against the hard muscle with ease, your fingers weaving in the soft hair at the nape of his neck when he flexes it for you. He growls low when you give the roots a gentle pull at the same time your teeth tug at his bottom lip, his self control to try and be a gentleman slipping away.

“Jesus Christ baby,” Steve gasps, the new nickname making you smile when you give him a softer kiss loving the way it makes his skin flush.

“You started it,” you whisper, watching the way his cheeks push up before he chases you for another one, which you gladly give, letting your lips linger when he hooks your leg over his hip.

Close as close can get.

“Me?” He tuts, letting his hand slide up your thigh before squeezing at the curve of your ass, glancing down to see how you still roll against him “I don’t think so, you’ve been trying to take my clothes off since I walked through the door.”

He throws his head back with a laugh when you scoff, and you pretend to push him away only for his hold on you to tighten. His lips connect anywhere but yours as you play hard to get, trailing a wet path to your neck, teeth nipping at the spot that gets a sound from you that has him kicking up in his sweats. So he does it again, and this time he can’t stop the grind of his hips that meet yours when he gets you saying his name the same way.

“And what do you think you’re doing now?” You try to tease but it comes out too breathy to be taken seriously, especially when he starts to suck where his teeth just grazed.

He grins against your skin, nosing his way up your jaw before meeting your eyes again, something softening in the gold inside them that shines through the abyss.

“You want the truth?” He asks, bringing his hand up to cup your face, the pad of his thumb tracing the small bags under your eyes with a gentle touch and all you can do is nod.

“I just want to make you feel good, god - it’s all I’ve thought about for so long. Just wanna treat you right, take things slow,” his thumb drags across your bottom lip watching the way your eyes glaze over at his words. “Take you out to nice dinners, watch all your favorite movies, hear about your day, but really what I want to do right now is make you cum on my tongue.”

“Steve,” his name comes out broken, the roll of your hips becoming more pointed, and the swelling in your chest makes you feel like you’re ready to explode.

“You want that pretty girl?” He whispers, leaning close so his lips brush against yours, his eyebrows furrowing when you grind a certain way, your clit catching his tip.

“Y-yeah,” you whimper, eyes big and pleading, turning into putty from his sweet words.

He gives you a kiss that’s more gentle than the rest, before sitting up on his haunches letting you fall into the empty space on your back. A big hand wrapping around your ankle, moving your leg out of his way so you’re spread with him in the middle. Leaning forward, his fingers curl around the elastic band of your sleep shorts, giving you one last look from under his lashes before tugging them down your thighs, throwing them on the floor with his shirt.

“Shit - baby.” He groans, running a hand through his hair when he sees the effect he really has on you. “Better than my dreams.”

All the blood rushes to your cheeks from his affection, as gentle hands run up your calves when he starts to lean forward, fingers curling under your knees to lift them over his freckled shoulders. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you start to feel shy exposed to him like this for the first time. A kaleidoscope of new feelings settles deep in your gut when his hot breath hits your core, thighs tensing that the pads of his thumbs try to soothe.

He looks up at you, from between your legs pressing a soft kiss to the place where your hip meets your thigh, making your back arch.

“You okay?” He whispers after another kiss, only this one on the inside of your thigh.

“Yeah, just nervous,” you giggle, feeling the warmth on your cheeks with your hand. If anyone would have told you that you’d have Steve Harrington between your legs begging to taste you a year ago, you’d have laughed in their face.

“Want me to stop?” He rests his cheek right where he kissed, looking content just to be doing this.

“No.” You smirk, reaching down to run a hand through his hair that was just begging for it, pushing back the stray that falls over his forehead.

He smiles, closing his eyes leaning into your touch for a minute before he turns his head, lips meeting your soft skin where he starts a path to where you want him most. You feel his breath and it sends a shiver down your spine, the tip of his nose spreading you apart first. He applies the kind of pressure against your bundle of nerves that makes you gasp, letting his tongue follow, collecting what you’ve already given him.

“Oh my god, Steve,” you whine, when he flattens the pink muscle doing it again, groaning loudly at the taste of you.

“So fuckin’ sweet, god, honey,” he mumbles against your cunt, replacing his nose with his lips, sucking your clit in a greedy way that makes your eyes hit the back of your head.

His fingers dig hard enough into the meat of your thighs, that you’re sure they’ll be bruises in the morning. The tip of his tongue tracing your entrance that flutters around him, threatening to suck him in and he can’t help himself, giving your body what it wants. Both your hands find their way to his hair, tangling your fingers in his honey colored locks searching for purchase when he starts to taste your walls, creating a steady rhythm that has you rocking against his face for more.

“Yeah, you like that?” He grunts, extending his tongue as far as it can go, drool and slick starting to drip down your thighs as he starts to lose himself in you.

“Uh-huh,” is all you manage to get out, jaw going slack at the way he feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, like he’s thought about this longer than a few weeks.

One of his hands lets go of your thigh while he starts to focus his attention back on your clit making you gasp when you feel the thickness of his finger press itself against where his tongue just was. The stretch makes you keen when he pushes one knuckle deep with ease, distracting you when he pushes the second one in as he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves.

“God - baby,” he gasps, when your walls take the third knuckle in by themselves, and it’s only then you notice the way he’s rutting against the couch in search of his own friction.

Your head pushes back into the cushions when he curves it, hitting the spot that only you’ve ever found on your own, and it has you babbling, your hips rolling up greedily for more which he gives you when he adds a second finger. He sets a pace that has your lashes fluttering against your cheeks after he lets you adjust to feeling so full.

“Come on, I can feel it, you’re close huh?” He asks against your clit, making you shudder, nodding your head when he starts flicking it with a wild tongue.

“Steve, Steve, Steve,” you whine, eyes closing tight, the band inside of you going taut, your hips grinding against his face without abandon as you try to take his fingers even deeper.

The sound of his name leaving your kiss bitten lips like a prayer makes a moan rumble deep from his chest, and it vibrates against your cunt, giving you just enough extra stimulation to make it snap. Vision going white behind your eyes, your body tenses while your mouth opens in a scream that falls on deaf ears when nothing actually comes out.

“Honey, honey, honey,” he babbles, his hips stuttering while his tongue refuses to stop despite the way your body shakes.

You murmur his name in a daze, trying to push his head away as you reach the verge of overstimulation and it takes him the third shove for him to finally listen, addicted to the way you taste. Feeling empty when he pulls his fingers out, your body betrays you trying to get them to stay. He kisses the inside of both of your thighs, smirking against your skin when your legs twitch because of it, slowly sliding his body up the length of yours. Skin flushed, and lips shining, you’d be embarrassed if he didn’t look like he just won the lottery.

His nose nudges yours before his lips steal a kiss that you eagerly give despite feeling so spent. Your fingers finding their way back into the hair at the nape of his neck, a smile tugging up the corners of your mouth when you feel the warmth of his own release in the cotton of the sweats.

“I hope you have another pair of pants for me.” He laughs, embarrassment making the tips of his ears turn red, the warm color only deepening when you grin and you realize you have more than just a crush on Steve Harrington.

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington thoughts

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 3 months

Text

Orange Peel Theory

I've seen a couple of other writers do this for other characters, and I always think of Jack when I see this on TikTok. The theory states that if your partner peels an orange for you without being asked, it's a sign of true love. I think Jack would pass this with flying colors.

You knocked your head back against the headrest and shut your eyes as the garage door closed, darkening the room. It was only 9am and you were already struggling to get through the day. You gripped the steering wheel, the rubber squeaking beneath your palms as you rubbed back and forth to try to release some of the tension in your shoulders.

The morning consisted of tears and snippy arguments with your family as you tried to get your daughter ready for pre-school with a baby on your hip, and a husband who seemed too distracted with his own career to notice that you needed help. It was taking everything in you not to drive away for a moment's peace, anything to allow you to take a breath. You took a second to collect yourself before heading inside.

You kicked off your shoes as you passed the front door, throwing your keys into the overflowing bowl of junk you kept on your hall table. Aaliyah's shrill cries flooded your ears as soon as you passed the threshold, her sounds of distress making you uneasy. You pinched the bridge of your nose to stave off a headache that was building at the base of your neck, your body aching with exhaustion. You walked deeper into the house, passing piles of toys and shoes, reminders of the chores that you had waiting for you when you returned.

"Babe, is that you?" Jack called out to you, and every muscle in your body tensed as you heard his voice. You just knew he was going to ask you to do something for him, like everyone else in your family did. They always needed something from you, and you weren't sure if you had anything left to give. You walked toward the sounds, finding him in the kitchen.

He stood over the sink, trying to wipe spit up off his new designer shirt, his phone balanced between his ear and shoulder. "Can you send me the contract? I wanna know what I'm signing." He nodded in your direction as he took his shirt off and left the kitchen to toss it in the laundry basket. You picked Aaliyah up, bouncing her on your hip as you began to clean up the table, remnants of a difficult morning strewn around the room.

Jack re-entered the kitchen in a clean shirt. "Sorry, I was trying to feed Liyah while you were gone and she spit up all over me. I don't think she likes the food you made her. Might need to try something different." You let out a sigh, trying to calm your breath. "She's liked it every other time I fed it to her. What's different now?" You didn't mean to sound so irritated, it just came out that way.

Jack took immediate offense. "I don't know, babe. She just didn't like it." His gaze was focused on his phone as he shot off text messages. "Don't wait for me to get home to have dinner, got a late night at the studio." He didn't even look up to gauge your reaction, and you were glad, because you knew you looked pissed off. "Okay", you groaned out, placing a few dishes in the dishwasher.

With the clutter at least out of the way, Aaliyah finally quiet with a bottle in her bouncer, and Jack leaning against the counter and occupied with work, you got that brief moment of silence you were so desperate for.

It was quickly over when you heard your stomach growl with hunger. In the rush of everything, you'd forgotten to eat breakfast.

Jack's let out a hum, the backlight reflecting on his face. "Did you eat anything yet?" You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms over your chest, rubbing your hands up and down your arms. "No. Things got a little crazy this morning, it was the last thing on my mind."

Just the thought of cooking something was too tiring, so you searched the counter for leftovers from Brooklyn's breakfast, spotting an unpeeled orange on her plate she wasn't interested in eating. You lifted yourself onto the counter and grabbed the fruit, palming it in your hand for a second. You weren't sure where it came from, but the Orange Peel Theory you'd seen on TikTok popped into your head.

You'd seen videos of wives and girlfriends testing their partners by seeing if they would peel an orange for them without having to ask. If they did, they truly loved you, and if they didn't, you were an afterthought. It was a silly trend, and you knew it meant absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things, but you were curious.

You looked over at Jack, his messy, chestnut curls falling over his eyes. You knew he loved you, and even questioning it felt ridiculous. Everything around you was a product of the love you had for each other, including two beautiful daughters who carried the best of his features.

Still, sometimes, you felt like an afterthought, and right now, you needed a reminder of where you stood with him, for your own sanity.

You pressed your dull thumbnail into the thick skin of the orange, digging till you felt the flesh of the fruit on your fingertip. You purposely struggled to pull back the peel, letting out a soft grunt. That got Jack's attention, his head turning to look at you as he placed his phone on the counter.

He took in the sight of you, your shoulders slumped over, your hair an unintentional mess, how tired your eyes looked as you put all of your focus into the simplest task in front of you. You looked small, fragile, and while he thought the world of you, you were one of the strongest people he knew, always taking care of everyone and everything around you, right now, you needed someone to care for you. He felt a wave of guilt rush over him, his stomach turning. He'd been so preoccupied with his work; he was drowning in it, honestly, and didn't want you to worry, but he also neglected the most important person in his life.

"What do you wanna eat for breakfast?" He gave you a gentle smile as he took the orange from you, and used his manicured nail to begin peeling back the rind. "That's okay, Jack, I can do it myself." He ignored your protest, separating each segment on a plate and handing it to you. You took a bite, feeling your hunger immediately start to subside.

"Pancakes? Omelette? Or I can go run and get you something."

"Pancakes sound wonderful", you said with a grin, orange juice dripping down your chin. "Here, I've got it." Jack chuckled as he bunched his sleeve in his fist and wiped your chin. "Babe, that's your brand new shirt. You just bought it."

"I don't care", he shrugged. You chuckled as he put his hands on his hips and surveyed the kitchen, trying to think if he even knew how to make pancakes. He saw your brow knit together, holding up a hand to you. "Don't worry. I'm gonna figure it out. Just give me a minute."

You jumped off the counter, moving to wrap your arms around his waist, leaning against his chest. He rubbed your back, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I've got it babe. You passed the test."

Jack backed away, a confused look on his face. "What test?" You explained to him the TikTok trend, Jack's face dropping as he listened.

"Baby, if I ever made you second guess how much I love you, that's on me. I'm so sorry."

"Jack, baby, you didn't. I promise, I'm just overwhelmed by everything going on. Sometimes its a lot. I doubted myself, not you." You pressed a hand to his chest to reassure him. He grabbed at your fingers, pulling you into his body when you tried to walk away. "This only works because of you. All of it. My job, the girls, you are the glue that holds everything together. I am nothing without you, okay?"

You felt a lump build in your throat, tears beginning to brim in your lashes. "Okay", you croaked with a sob, pressing your forehead to his chest. "I love you, baby", Jack muttered against your hair. "I love you, too.", your voice squeaked.

"No more TikTok tests, alright?"

"Alright", you giggled as you wiped a tear off your cheek. "I had no doubt you would pass, though."

"We're just lucky it was only peeling an orange." Jack joked, tickling your sides. "If I had to actually cook something, or kill a spider for you, we'd be having a very different conversation right now."

Tag-List:

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#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jack harlow x reader #jackman harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

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maleficmuse · 1 year

Text

Misery

Syverson x Reader

Summary: A slip of the tongue after a few too many drinks is all it took to replace a once solid friendship with a big fat question mark.

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Drinking, *Friends-to-Lovers* (Almost), Hurt/No Comfort

18+ ONLY

*MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI*

AO3 Link

Misery loved company and it had latched onto her like she was the last life preserver on a sinking ship. It didn’t even bother to ask if she knew how to swim before imbedding it’s talons in the deepest parts of her. As long as they were together, Misery was perfectly content allowing her to drown. And days like today, she was inclined to let it pull her under.

Sy’s house was dark as she sat alone in his closet, clutching his favorite red t-shirt to her chest. Nothing could be heard except the soft hiccups of her quiet sobs and the distant cackling of Misery, who was more than happy to see her finally accept it’s company.

It had been a week since she and Sy had spoken, leaving her unsettled mind unable to do anything but obsess over their last conversation.

Three little words. Three specific little words was all it took to obliterate almost a decade of friendship and crush two hearts that were already held together by threads.

She had always worried those words would disturb the comfort and easiness she and Sy had together, but she never would’ve imagined them being the beginning of the end.

Sy snorted as he snatched the remote from her hand, not caring what was on the next channel as long as it wasn’t the news. They were both four beers deep, passing a bottle of Jack between the two of them, and he wasn’t about to let her anxiety take hold and ruin her night.

“Come on,” she complained. “I wanna see the new anchor lady. She’s really hot.”

Sy shook his head, giggling. He giggled when he was drunk—and only when he was drunk. It was one of her favorite things about him. In a state of sobriety, the decorated army captain would never own up to it, but she knew. She thought about that giggle when she was upset or angry, or hell, when she was just missing him. Even the thought of it never ceased to make her feel lighter.

And it was that giggle that prompted her eyes to brighten and a goofy smile to settle upon her lips as she unconsciously whispered the words she swore she never would.

“Fuck, I love you, Sy.”

She had to have imagined that scenario a million times since they’d known one another. He’d either say it back and they’d live happily ever after or he’d let her down easy and they’d awkwardly ignore it for the rest of their lives. But she got neither of those responses.

A deafening silence settled uncomfortably in the room, Misery peeking around the kitchen corner to watch as dread took over.

She was just as shocked as Sy was to hear those words out in the open. Normally, she didn’t allow herself to even think them in his presence for fear of being betrayed by her big fat mouth. Unfortunately, her drunk mind didn’t get that memo.

They had both sobered up at her confession, but neither of them seemed to know how to move forward. Her mouth opened as if she had something else to say, but her brain had short circuited once the weight of the situation set in. She just sat there, staring stupidly at Sy like she was expecting him to know what came next.

He broke eye contact, his chest deflating as he released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He should’ve been happy to hear her say that—to hear her say the words he dreamt of hearing for years, but instead panic flooded his chest as his heart began beating erratically. He had wanted to wait, damn it.

“I love you too,” he admitted softly. “But I didn’t wanna say anything yet, darlin’.”

Confusion passed over her face, her brows knitting together as she waited impatiently for him to continue.

“I’m leavin’.”

Her world stopped. He swore in nearly every letter and a million times more once he returned that he wasn’t going back. He promised her that the last time was really the last time. And now he was leaving in just over a week.

“I want you, baby. I’ve always wanted you. But it ain’t fair of me to ask you to wait.”

Her face felt hot and her stomach dropped so quickly she felt sick. Misery giggled from the doorway, delighting in the way Sy’s words echoed in her head, waiting for it’s time to take over. The idea of him going away again made her unbearably nauseous. She couldn’t stand not knowing if he was going to come back home to her.

“How long?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“How long have you known?” She clarified.

Sy dodged her penetrating gaze as he fiddled with the label of the whiskey bottle in his hand. He knew he fucked up. He’d known he was fucking up for weeks, but he just couldn’t bring himself to obliterate the sense of security he knew she felt when deployment wasn’t hanging over their time together.

“Awhile,” he finally admitted.

“And you didn’t think that was something you should tell me?”

Her tone was unnervingly calm. Sy could count the number of times he’d heard her use it on one hand and it always resulted in an explosion. His next words had better be the right ones if he wanted to defuse the bomb. Cut the wrong wire and there’d be nothing left behind but broken hearts and a shattered friendship.

“Of course I was gonna tell ya. I was just…waitin’ on the right time.”

“So you waited until the fucking week before you disappear for god knows how long to fucking tell me?”

Wrong wire.

Tears blurred her vision as she recalled the agony on his face, wishing more than anything that she could take it all back. But she’d been too late. The venom she spat lingered on her tongue and the memory of his pleading eyes tugged at her heart. She wished she would’ve exerted more self control in that moment, but his confession had her seeing red. It was bad enough that he’d broken his promise to retire, but waiting until the last minute to say anything had practically set her on fire.

After days of silence and countless sleepless nights, she finally psyched herself up to apologize for the name calling and her hateful words, hoping he would at least hear her out. She’d waited a week for fear that Sy wouldn’t want to see her again after the tantrum she threw that night. But by the time she decided she couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to him without knowing she didn’t actually hate him, his house was dark, his driveway was empty, and his army duffle no longer sat at the bottom of the hallway closet.

“Don’t expect me to be here when you get back, Sy.”

#henry cavill x reader #captain syverson x reader #syverson x reader #maleficmuse

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enm-enthusiast · 3 months

Text

The Exhibitionists' Club Ch. 7 - Sebastian Part 1

Cruel and Unusual Punishment

Last chapter followed Sebastian's boyfriend Thomas entering a male arousal study for extra credit, and ended up being milked by his insanely hot anatomy professor, and now he confronts his lover with the possible desire to have sex with the older man...

Sebastian

"Wait...you mean professor, ass of a Greek God, Ethan?" I said in response to Thomas bursting into the dorm room and shouting about how much he wanted to fuck a professor on campus.

"...yes" he said, meekly.

His eyes looked downcast, like he was ashamed. My heart sunk in my own chest and beckoned him over to me. He closed the door behind him and practically jumped into my arms on his bed. As I caressed his soft, wavy black hair I worked out the words I wanted to say:

"Babe, your going to run into certain guys that you are extremely attracted to, its natural. Like, there's a few bros in my Frat I'd love to bend over but I know I can't not just because they're straight, but also because it'd complicate things too much" I said.

He looked up at me, those sweet and sad puppy dog eyes never failed to make my heart melt.

"I won't forbid it, but I do want you to be careful, okay? don't do anything to get yourself hurt or in trouble, you got it?" I said.

"Don't worry Seb, I have it all handled" he said, smiling so warmly I couldn't resist kissing him, his warm velvety lips inviting further exploration which caused a stir in my groin.

But....I had somewhere to be, I had to get back to the Frat house and clean up my room and study for the rest of the night before bed. So I reluctantly pulled away before I found myself pounding away inside him once again.

He had a slightly pouty look on his face as I got up, but I merely smiled in return and said "Don't give me that look mister, you were supposed to strip down as soon as you got home, remember? be glad I didn't spank you again as punishment" I finished and a deep blush flooded his cheeks.

"I'll let it slide this time, but next time that ass is getting both a pounding AND a spanking, and I don't think you want both in a row" I said, giving him a mischievous wink as I closed the door behind me and started down the stairs of Thomas' dorm building.

I didn't tell Thomas this, but I was having some problems with the Frat lately ever since I bested the president, a real prick named Eric at a strip wrestling match in the Rainbow Room. The whole thing happened because of pledge week where we had to do one dare no matter how bad it was, and the vide president had dared me to wrestle Eric but I got to choose the time, place, and rules.

Eric lost. Badly. He ended up naked before his entire frat, who made sure to take plenty of photos of their senior's humiliation. He had been so angry lately, he was pissing off everybody and by extension some people were avoiding me because I was the source of his ire.

I got the impression that many of the seniors and other officers had grown increasingly tired of Eric's antics, I felt they were waiting for the proverbial straw. Until then I did my best to avoid Eric when I could, even try to apologize for things going so far but to no avail and I got the distinct feeling that he was planning some sort of payback.

Thomas already had enough to worry about with all this medical study business (which I found kinda hot, in a way) that I didn't want him to worry about me, besides I could take care of myself.

I was completely lost in my own thoughts as I walked across campus towards the frat houses I passed by a few security patrols. I recognized a few since I had recently landed a position as a student assistant to help pay my college expenses. This time it was that cute, blonde twink named....Daniel? and a bigger, beefy muscle dad named Jack who filled out every inch of his uniform which never failed to make me drool.

I waved at them politely but moved on without speaking a word, I had precious little time left in the day. I began walking up the steps to my two-story frat house and to my surprise there was a lot of noise going on inside. I heard loud, angry shouts coming a male voice from the main living room and a few others shouted back in response.

I opened the door and walked in and suddenly I heard the words much more clearly:

"-should be here to defend himself, you have no right to just go through a brother's room without him present or reasonable suspicion of banned items" I heard the vice president James say, who was unusually a nerdy tall kid with glasses and short brown hair. He was the smartest guy here and everyone knew it, and if Eric wasn't your atypical "popular jock" he'd be president instead.

"I have every right if I have personally witnessed him smuggling banned items into said room, and because those items were indeed found in his room, he needs to be punished accordingly" Eric, I now realized, said.

I felt a slight sense of dread as I suspected who he was talking about and slowly entered the living room and all eyes turned to me, some in sympathy, others in indifference to Eric's latest bullshit. James was up in Eric's face, and the latter had a sinister smirk that grew wide upon seeing me enter.

"Ah, the guest of honor has arrived, tell us brother Sebastian, why did I find *these* in your room today?" Eric said and held up a bag of weed in his hand.

My blood boiled as I realized what he was doing, I was being set up! but I wasn't going down without a fight.

"What?! But I've never seen that before, did you find a lighter, a bong or anything I could use to smoke all that with?" I said, as a point of fact. Some of the guys turned to whisper with each other, they seemed split on the issue.

"It's not just me, I have witnesses who say they saw you bring this bag into your room, besides myself" Eric said, and smugly gestured towards another frat brother, a junior named Casey who was reputed to be one of Eric's rivals. He also pointed to another guy next to him, Henry who was another freshman, rather fresh-faced and right now he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else right now. I was starting to feel the same.

"Hold on Eric, first let's hear it from them personally before dealing out any punishments" James said, and gestured to the two guys to come forward. Eric seemed a little annoyed at James's interference but said nothing in response, letting the boys speak for him.

"Now, did you or did you not witness Sebastian smuggle this into his room?" James asked them both.

"We both did, he came home late one night after seeing that boytoy of his, me and Henry here saw him slip the bag inside his room, isn't that right, Henry?" Casey said.

I clenched my fist at the way he talked about Thomas, but instead I bore my eyes right into Henry's who could barely look back at me and flinched every time. He knew full well what he was supposed to say was a lie, I only hoped that his conscience was stronger than his fear of angering the frat president.

"y-....y-yes, we both saw him" Henry said, his eyes glued to the floor like he was a child being scolded by his parents.

"But...that's a lie! can't you see James? they're both up to something!" I yelled in my defense, my face red.

James looked at both of them for a few long moments, scrutinizing them and asked one final time if that was indeed what they saw and they both repeated their stories, word for word.

The vice president finally turned to me with a look of pity and sympathy, one that wished he could stop this but his hands were tied, and said "I'm sorry Sebastian, but in light of this...you need to be punished" he said and folded his arms in disgust.

"That's right James, and as Frat president it is up to me to determine what befits our brother's crimes" he said.

"Don't forget Eric, first punishments should be handed out lightly, don't do a repeat of last year or I swear I'll..."

"You'll what? Report me? I will count that as interference in the performance of my duties as president, and I'll be extending Sebastian's punishment to you if you do" He said, viciously.

"Fine Eric, have it your way, freshman clear out this is not something you'll want to see" James said, giving me one last look of sympathy and escorted the Freshman out. Some of the sophomores and juniors left too leaving just me, Eric, and a majority of the seniors.

"Alright Sebastian, as punishment for smuggling of banned substances your clothing privileges have been revoked for two weeks. Strip." Eric said.

My eyes widened and I couldn't help but laugh a little despite my rising anxiety.

"Excuse me? What the fuck do you mean 'clothing privileges'?" I said.

"You heard me Sebastian, when freshman are punished we take all of their clothes and force them to walk around the house naked except for when they leave, I won't say it again. Strip." he said, this time more forcefully.

I looked around the room and noticed that some of the seniors were circling me like vultures, Eric's little sycophants no doubt, ready to jump at his command if I disobeyed.

Realizing I was trapped, I reluctantly, and very slowly I grabbed the hem of my shirt and lifted it up over my head, exposing my bare torso to everyone. A few of the seniors grabbed my nipples and twisted them, I slapped their hands away and felt heat flush in my face.

"I didn't say stop, drop your pants. Now. Or we do it for you." Eric said, stepping closer to me threateningly, along with his cronies.

I held my hands up before lowering them down to the hem of my pants and started unzipping them and to my embarrassment and shock...I realized my cock was beginning to stir within my boxer briefs!

I didn't stop but I felt a sudden feeling of humiliation as these guys might just be about to see my fully erect penis...I tried to ignore it but as I lowered my pants down my legs and stepping out of them I was sporting a very prominent bulge which I was quick to cover up.

Unfortunately, Eric noticed.

"What you hiding there Seb? or what are you...*not* hiding?" He said, chuckling derisively, his cronies mimicking him. He stepped closer to me, and we were face to face, my own expression was defiant despite the redness and when he said:

"Drop the undies." He said.

"Come on Eric, please don't make me do this" I said and Eric was about to call his brothers into action when I stepped in and slowly, every so slowly I slid my last garment down my legs. I felt my cock springing to life and my fully erect cock slapped against my stomach and was already leaking!

I stood back up, fully naked as the seniors gathered up my clothes and I attempted to cover myself but Eric was having none of it. "No no, keep your arms at your sides" he said but this time I wasn't having it.

"What the hell Eric? I'm not showing you guys my dick" I said.

"Awww, he's shy, let's help him come out of his shell you guys, grab him!" he said and on command I had two guys pounce on me, grabbing my arms and forcing them away from my crotch, exposing my erect penis as each of them held my arms behind my back. My dick was 7.5 inches long fully hard, cut, and was a caramel shade of tan that matched the rest of my body.

"Wow, he's not so little after all, we might need to change that" Eric said and I whipped my head towards him on confusion.

Suddenly he slapped my hard dick, and I groaned as he did it again, and again, and again. Tears stung the back of my eyes as my dick throbbed with pain and yet somehow was still leaking precum.

"Ha, not so mighty now, are you?" Eric said.

"He's crying like a little baby!" One of the seniors said.

"We should shave him smooth, make him into a little bitch boi" another said.

"Quiet you two, no, I got a better idea in mind for him" he said and nodded to one of the other seniors nearby who ran off to get something.

"What are you going to do?" I whimpered and my face was flooded with embarrassment and humiliation as I stood there naked and exposed in front of practically half of the entire frat! and if they kept to these rules I'd be showing myself off naked to them for two weeks...

"Just completing your punishment dear Sebastian, don't worry your pretty boy head about it" Eric said, ruffling my hair.

The other senior came back with a small bag and and reached inside, my eyes widened in horror as I saw him produce a cock cage from it and hand it to Eric and renewed struggling against the guys holding me, my cock deflating to the point it swung between my legs as I did so.

"Eric, come on this is going too far now, stop this" I said.

"No dear Seb, I decide when we stop, now then, Taylor!, Pierce!, shave his crotch so the cage will fit better" he said.

I felt my anxiety increase a hundredfold, my heart beat thunderously in my chest as the two guys on either side of me let go and walked to the front of me and each of them took out small electric razors from their pockets and didn't waste any time in shaving my crotch, already I could feel my man hair being forcefully taken from me.

I started to realize just how much this was planned in advance, I hadn't stood a chance the minute I walked in here tonight. Now here I was, stripped of all my clothes, and was being shaved of all my pubes.

Their razors cut through my bush like a hot knife through butter, I looked down in abject horror as they kept moving my dick to reach around my crotch, the stimulation was getting me hard again.

I wasn't especially hairy, but it still took them a minute to shave my bare crotch completely smooth, all the guys proceeded to practically point and laugh which just made my balls shrivel up and my face flooded with shame and embarrassment.

"Where's your man-hair? wow, what a loser!"

"His cock looks like a kid's cock, not like a real man's"

"If he didn't have such a big dick, it WOULD be a kids cock!"

I heard guys shout from all over, and Eric picked up on that last one and said "Don't worry guys, time to shrink him down to size, this cock cage here is specially designed to absolutely restrict blood flow to your dick while allowing you to piss freely without getting it dirty."

"And just how long are you making me wear this thing?" I asked.

A bunch of the guys started shouting off random different lengths of time. Eric ignored them all until they quieted down and said "I think....a month ought to teach you to learn your lesson" he said.

"Eric...you can't do this!" I said in protest but no matter how much I struggled I couldn't stop him as I felt Eric grab my dick and begin to wrap the cage around my cock. I had gone soft again and before it had a chance to get hard, he fit the cage right onto my manhood and proceeded to lock it with a key that he wrapped around his neck.

I looked down and saw the cage was small, round and made of metal and like Eric said put pressure on the base of my shaft which prevented any sort of blood flow. My face flooded with red once more, as well as anger, but the guys finally let me go and I fell on the floor in surprise.

The guys all began filing out, some of them muttering 'loser' and 'bitch' under their breaths, and maybe they were right, Eric had won. Here I lay, my clothes and dignity stripped away from me, Eric gave me one last look of triumph before leaving me there, completely humiliated, and I was left to stew in my shame.

I slowly got up and tried to make it up to my room, as soon as I reached the 2nd floor I heard a voice behind me say "Seb, over here" and I turned to see James come out from behind a corner at the top of the stairs.

"Please James, I just want to go to bed before anyone else sees" I said and James gave me a flat look in response.

"Show me" he said.

I guess there was no point in trying to hide it, soon enough I would be the laughingstock of the entire frat, so I moved my hands away from my crotch.

"Wow, that son of a bitch really did it again" he said, chuckling angrily.

"Wait, what do you mean *again*?" I said.

"Eric did almost the same thing last year to a sophomore who embarrassed him, no one dared contradict his blatant manipulation of the house rules, but I couldn't do anything about it then, I thought as vice president I could...but its still the same now" James said, sadly.

"He is *not* getting away with this" I said, baring my teeth.

"I never said he would, but I realize I can't do it alone now, I'm going to need your help" he said, smiling slightly.

"Help with what?" I asked.

"I'm not sure yet, but somehow Eric needs to be dealt with, play along for now until I can come up with something more, stay low if you can, but...I'm sorry I couldn't do more" he said, before finally walking away.

I walked the rest of the way to my room in silence, I decided I needed to trust James, he seemed decent enough and right now anything seemed better than Eric. I opened the door and my faint glimmer of hope was gone as I found my room stripped bare of any clothing, my cock cage clinked as I took the first step inside and just sat on my bed.

I looked down and the humiliation returned as I felt my smooth crotch and poked at the cage, I only hoped Eric would be satisfied by this, I just had to make it through the next two weeks and I'd get my clothes back at least.

I opened my phone, which Eric's cronies had left behind along with my wallet, and saw my text chat bubble with Thomas and thought about calling him, telling him what happened but right now I just needed to sleep. But as fitful sleep came, finally, I swore to myself that Eric would regret the day he messed with me, and by the time I was done with him he'll be remembered as the president who lost his frat.

End of Chapter Six.

Author's Note: Uh oh! the tables have turned on Seb at last as he finds himself at the mercy of Eric and his cronies, find out what else is in store for poor Sebastian as he faces the two most humiliating weeks of his life.

Keep an eye on the current timeline I have setup which you can see on my recent Tumblr posts, and in the meantime please enjoy this latest installment, and have a great week!

#enm #cmnm #enm stripped humiliation #stripped #enm story

26 notes · View notes

thxrnking · 4 months

Text

Day One - A Night Children AU One-shot

Tag List: @phoenixriaartemis @anja-the-sane-sibling @simplycreatorjo @miraimeity @sparklingdiva678 @punsandquips @lyna-possibility @32nder @libralelia @luvvy-star @caitlynnrosespn @generalakuma @anonymous-gremlin @mightnightmooon @delphinus-dancer @mudpuddlenl

Summary - Today's the first day of the rest of Jack's life. So what's his choice?

Content Warning - implied physical abuse/torture

----

Everything hurts. A pounding throb is threatening to tear my head apart while my limbs ache, every muscle feels over-stretched, and I’m pretty close to just slipping back into unconsciousness. Something itches though, at the base of my brain, something pushing me to stand and look. I have no idea at what.

It takes some time to drag myself up, every muscle crying out in overworked agony. With a stretch, my joints crack and pop back into place, releasing pressure I had no idea I’d been carrying and drawing from me a long sigh of relief.

You’d think standing would be easier now that I’m sat up. You’d think. Not even halfway up, my head reels, swirling worse than a snow-globe. Everything’s spinning around me and I land heavily back on the bed. I think I might be sick.

I don’t know what happened. I vaguely remember my friends, there was dancing, but after that there’s nothing. No faces, no names, not even a vague feeling in any direction. Just a great blank slate where my memories should be and the more I look at it, the more my head hurts. It takes a minute or two but I finally manage to stand. My balance is still off and I stumble into my dresser which isn’t fun, and all thoughts leave my head when I catch sight of myself in the mirror.

At least I think that’s me. Same pale complexion, stellar cheekbones, striking jawline, but that’s not my hair. I’ve had the same hair my whole life, short, red, gently styled. Easy to maintain and iconic; but the hair in the mirror is an inch shorter, and black. Well except for a small pink streak near the top of my head.

I reach for it in shock, barely believing as my reflection does the same. What the-?

“You’re awake.”

The sudden voice scares me near shitless. My knees thud against the dresser but I don’t have time to feel the smack, turning to see Wanderlust standing a short way away. At least I think it’s Wanderlust. He looks taller; his clothes and his crown are darker, more twisted. Over his shoulders is a feathered cape that can only mean one thing. Mother.

“What happened to you!” I blurt, but he doesn’t even blink.

“What do you remember?” he asks.

“Nothing. I-”

Wait.

Cold. I remember being cold. I don’t remember what happened to my blazer, but my shirt was torn and damp and I was littered in cuts and bruises. I look down at my chest. My smart shirt isn’t torn. It’s purple and neatly pressed and fits me perfectly. As ever it’s good at hiding Mother’s sins.

A hollow ache blossoms in my chest. I’d been alone. Restrained and locked away. Never mind days it had to have been weeks. Had anyone even realised I was missing? Did anyone care?

I start to cough, hacking and spluttering; desperately trying to catch my breath as my chest spasms over and over. My stomach twists, wrenching violently as I drop to one knee, trying and failing to catch myself against the dresser.

I’m going to be sick, or I would if there was anything in my stomach. For a few minutes I’m retching as my body tries and fails to eject something, anything from my mouth. When was the last time I ate something?

Then comfort floods me as something warm comes in beside me. An arm wraps around my shoulder and pulls me in. I look up. Wanderlust holds me, his grip firm and strong as he pulls me close, gently hushing me. The ache in my chest fades to a dull pain.

I remember.

Wanderlust was the one who found me. Walked right in with a new smile, some new clothes, and quiet promises to keep me safe. I’d flinched away but he didn’t care.

‘Trust me.’ he’d said. The two dumbest words I’d ever heard him say. Of course I trust him.

Wanderlust moves to stand, pulling me up with him and without thought, I follow his lead. I hold tight as I try to get my legs to take my own weight. I’m not ready to let him go; he’s so warm. His fingertips drag along my forearm, sending goosebumps dancing across my skin and I think he knows what he’s doing because his lips are quirked in such a shit-eating smile. I just might melt in that smile. Gradually, he drags them towards my hand, taking it and interlocking our fingers, holding tight.

My head is swimming as we stand there; he’s holding my hand up, while the other has dropped to my back, holding me close; it’s almost like we’re dancing. As if we’d ever be allowed to stand this close.

But we are.

With a gentle twist of my fingers as he lifts my hand, Wanderlust encourages me to turn, wrapping his free arm around my waist again and pulling me back against him.

“Look at us,” he tells me.

So I look.

This can’t be us, I tell myself. The arm around my waist tightens like he’s afraid I might walk away. I should. We agreed a long time ago that we can’t be together. No one will accept us, and there’s more important things to focus on.

But look at how entwined we are. Wanderlust’s chin on my shoulder, his chest pressed firm against my back, his arms tight around me. His lips brush against my cheek as he presses a soft kiss and I can’t help but drown a little.

How many times have I let go for the greater good? For the sake of safety or sacrifice? Don’t I deserve this? Don’t I deserve to be happy?

“What do you think?” There’s a sly smile on Wanderlust’s lips as his reflection pins me with an unyielding gaze.

I stare at us. At my hair. At his crown. In his eyes. My eyes flit to every point of contact; like a drink of cool water after hours in the hot sun, it’s all too much and not enough. I push myself back into his hold, and Wanderlust pulls me closer. He’s only too happy to give me what I want. Finally.

“Perfect.”

#Just Dance 2024 #Jack Rose #jd Jack Rose #jd Jack Swan #jd Wanderlust #Night Children AU #NCAU #Jacklust #Wanderrose

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heliads · 7 days

Note

REQUESTS OPEN OMG EVERYONE CHEERED. hi i was thinking.. what if… hmm.. what if.. guardian angel y/n x connor lassiter where in unwind instead of lev saving him after the happy jack explosion its y/n. (they kiss at the end PLEase)

ANYWAYS ILY u survived exams i’m so proud !

'angel ex machina ' - connor lassiter

masterlist

They find Connor Lassiter staring at a billboard. He’s slumped against a wall, eyes hollow and vacant, like nothing in this world could possibly be more fascinating than a couple hundred square feet of boastful advertising. The bright colors seem to laugh at him, tantalizingly out of reach from where he crouches now, separated from the rest of the world by the walls of a harvest camp.

We have guardian angels! Low prices, high protection!

Even if Connor somehow managed to piece together enough cash for their exorbitant prices, it’s obvious that a guardian angel would be wasted on him. Connor is days away from his own unwinding. Not even a real guardian angel could pull him out now, let alone the vapid models in suits they’ve got bedazzling that billboard. Everyone knows you can’t actually hire a guardian angel. They just show up somehow, save your ass however many times you need it, then disappear. There, then gone. Intrinsically a part of your life, and then it’s like you’d never known them at all.

Guardian angels are extraordinarily rare. The closest Connor’s ever come to meeting one is hearing a story his dad used to tell, and even then, Kirk Lassiter had only briefly glimpsed one of his neighbors getting saved from a car accident by one of the angels. Not exactly a core memory for Connor. His mom had never seen one at all.

That’s the way it usually goes. There aren’t that many guardian angels in the world. Rare things, they are. Somehow, they decide that a person is important enough to save, and then they swoop in and do what they do best. That’s usually saving them from disasters– floods, tornadoes, you name it. There’s an iconic photograph of a guardian angel rescuing someone from a burning building that Connor sees annually in his textbooks; something about the wings silhouetted against the flames is irresistible to school publishers. Hayden swears that he heard about somebody who got a guardian angel to do their taxes, but Connor figures that’s another of the boy’s bad jokes. Guardian angels are for real problems, not tax fraud.

Hell, no one even knows what guardian angels look like. There are photographs, sure, but they always turn out strangely blurry, like when the sun’s too bright outside and all you can do is squint. Even the people who’ve seen guardian angels say that their memories faded oddly quickly after the incident. No one can decide if they look like people, if their wings always appear, if they’re even recognizable as guardian angels at all. The only thing the masses can agree on is that guardian angels do exist, and they’ll never be good enough for anyone.

Least of all Connor. He’s harbored a hope that he’d get to meet one at some point, obviously, everyone has. Imagining that you’d be important enough to warrant an angel sent to watch over you is everyone’s secret fantasy.

Connor’s a few hours away from getting unwound, though, so he’s pretty sure that dream will die like the rest of his: unwanted, unclaimed, unfulfilled. He’ll go to pieces as yet another boy who dreamed of being great, another poor soul ignored by the angels. The only difference is that, unlike most of the teenage population, he’s not even mediocre enough to live past sixteen. He’ll be in parts by tomorrow. Then, who knows? Maybe his elbow will go to a kid worthy of an angel. Connor wasn’t, but maybe his unwound pieces will be.

Connor shakes his head slightly to rid himself of the thoughts. He’s not usually like this. He’s not a quitter. He’ll go under the knife protesting his unwinding. It’s just a little difficult to keep up the fighting spirit when he knows that at last, despite all his running and hiding, he’ll be unwound anyway. There’s no fighting the Juvenile Authority. All his great efforts just delayed the inevitable. It cuts him to say it, but it looks like they were right after all.

In an attempt to get his mind out of obviously dangerous waters, Connor rips his gaze away from the offending billboard and glances around him. Only now does he notice another future unwind drawing close to him. Connor stretches and stands, forcing the corners of his mouth to upturn slightly so Y/N, his closest friend here and only ally among the cops and lambs to slaughter, don’t think he’s totally deranged.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asks, coming to a stop by his side.

Connor shrugs listlessly. “Nothing. Drafting my will.”

With anyone else, he’d probably stay silent, but Connor learned a long time ago that trying to hold his tongue around Y/N L/N is a losing game. They met in the basement of Sonia’s antique shop, Y/N having arrived barely a few minutes after Connor and Risa. Talk about a coincidence. They quickly hit it off, and as proof of their friendship, they’ve even ended up at the same harvest camp after it all went south back at the Graveyard.

If Connor were trapped with anyone, though, he’s glad it’s them. Not even Hayden can make Connor laugh as much as he does with Y/N. They understand him in a way that no one else ever has. If he were feeling particularly stupid, he would call it love, but Connor knows better. They’re both about to get stripped to pieces. If he spills his guts now and they friendzone him, Connor will have ruined the best part of his life for nothing.

So he stays silent, and watches Y/N laugh at his joke. “I want your car after they unwind you,” they inform him. “Maybe even the house.”

Connor pretends to be outraged. “Both? That’s absurd.”

Y/N snorts. “Who else would you give them to? The tithe?” Then, in a quieter voice, they glance towards the billboard Connor was staring at, and add on, “Maybe an angel?”

Connor sighs. “They can’t sell real guardian angels. No amount of flashy billboards can hide that.”

Y/N nods. “You’re still tempted, though?”

Connor lifts a shoulder. “Who wouldn’t be tempted? The idea is great. I’d love for someone to save me right now. Or maybe just care enough to try.”

“I care,” Y/N offers.

Connor gives them a wry smile. “I know you do. But you’re stuck in the same mess as I am, so maybe I’ll hold off on believing in your escape plan until you’re out, too.”

Y/N looks at him for a second, too deep for Connor to understand, then cracks a grin. “You should believe in me, Lassiter. I’m tunneling out from under the dorms with just a spoon. I might make it halfway to Florida by the time we get the unwind order.”

Connor scoffs. “That only works in movies. You’d need a miracle to break through an inch of concrete, let alone all the way past the borders.”

Y/N smiles at him, a little secretively, a little knowingly. “I’m pretty good with miracles.”

“Sure you are,” Connor says, stretching his arms to rid himself of an unpleasant pinch in his muscles. “Any chance you can whip one up to save me from my impending doom?”

He isn’t expecting Y/N to respond, obviously, but when their face drops at the sight of something approaching behind him, Connor knows it’s not just from his lack of belief. “I’d have to make it quick, wouldn’t I?” They mutter under their breath.

Connor turns around to see a squad of Juvey-cops bearing down on him. He swears under his breath. “This is it, right? They’re going to take me away?”

Y/N’s face looks ashen and wrong. “I should have saved you. “

“We should have saved each other,” Connor corrects gently. Usually, he isn’t the sentimental type, but as the guards get closer, he can’t resist the urge to lean closer to Y/N and whisper to them, “Hey, I’m glad for the time we had, alright? It meant– It meant a lot to me. You know. If I was going to talk to anyone on my last day, I would have wanted it to be you anyway.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “Don’t say that.”

Connor stares at them. “Why not? It’s true.”

Y/N looks like they want to argue– why, Connor isn’t sure, but the guilt in their eyes is like nothing he’s ever seen before– but before they can say a word, the Juvey-cops close in around him, cutting Connor off from Y/N like slamming a door in their face. They give him the usual speech about how it’s time for him to be unwound, but Connor can’t find it within himself to pay attention. It’s so typical of him, honestly, to be zoning out during what may be his last hour whole, but all he can think about is Y/N, who disappears into the distance as the cops drag him away, Y/N, who he’s now left here alone, Y/N, who will join him in this fate not long from now.

Connor doesn’t want to be unwound. Obviously. He doesn’t want this, and the sheer force of his not wanting overwhelms him as they lead him closer and closer to the doors of the Chop Shop. A crowd of other unwinds has gathered by the door; apparently the final moments of the Akron AWOL make for some good entertainment. The band is playing. Connor wants to run, run far and fast like he always does, but for the first time in his life he realizes how pointless it is. If he tried to flee, they would catch him. They would drag him back, and it would be like nothing ever happened. There is no way this day ends with anything but Connor in pieces.

Connor forces his legs to move him mechanically towards the Chop Shop entrance. Just before the darkness of the place swallows him whole, something tells Connor to glance over his shoulder one last time and he sees Y/N staring at him beseechingly. He doesn’t know how he’s able to spot them so easily in the crowd, but he can. Like he would know them anywhere. Like doing anything but looking at them is impossible.

Then the guards shove him into the Chop Shop, and Y/N is gone, replaced by the dark certainty of Connor’s unwinding. The hallway seems to stretch out forever, but before Connor can take even one more step, a few very confusing things happen all at once.

First: there’s this shift in the air. Connor can’t describe it. It feels strange and wrong, burning on his tongue like electricity. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and Connor knows at once that something is about to go wrong.

Second: the room erupts in fire and smoke. The bone-rattling boom of the explosion comes later, a little delayed, but Connor sees the white flash of heat and light first. He’s knocked off of his feet, and time seems to slow down. The entire world is gone, replaced only by Connor, floating hazily through the smoky air, and the blossom of fire around him, searing off everything else.

Third, and most confusing of all: out of nowhere, Y/N is right in front of him. Y/N, yes, but Y/N different somehow. It takes him a moment to realize why. Their eyes glow white, brighter even than the explosion, and their skin is radiating off this cool, pearlescent light. He has no idea how they could have possibly gotten in front of him so fast. He has no idea how they’re seemingly immune to the heat and force of the explosion around them.

Y/N reaches for him, pulling Connor into their arms. Their head presses against his, and they whisper quietly, forcefully, “Be safe, Connor.”

The command reverberates through Connor’s entire body. He doesn’t even remember hitting the ground, and when the explosion clears, he’s– He’s fine, actually. Nothing hurts. When Connor stares at his body, he’s utterly unharmed. Not even a scratch on his skin. He is totally untouched by the explosion that has just decimated the entirety of the Chop Shop.

Connor looks around him and realizes that Y/N is sitting in front of him. They’re both on the grass outside the Chop Shop, although he doesn’t remember getting there. Y/N is unharmed also, although Connor can say for certainty that there is still something wrong about them. It takes him a moment to get his scattered thoughts in order, and then he remembers. Y/N’s eyes wink pearlescent at him from a few paces away, and he knows.

“You’re a guardian angel,” Connor stammers out.

Y/N nods. “I am.”

Easy as that. They say it like it’s nothing. Like Connor hasn’t just had his life saved by a supernatural being currently sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of him on the waving grass. He’s had a lot of time to wonder what it would be like to meet a guardian angel, but it never would have occurred to him that one would have been in his life this entire time without him knowing.

Connor stares unseeingly at them. Try as he might, he can’t force himself to believe that Y/N is anything other than, well, Y/N. His friend. His best friend. The person he’s been crushing on since they stumbled into him by accident in the dark of Sonia’s basement. He remembers the flighty beat of their heartbeat when they were in his arms then, and he remembers what it felt like when they embraced him again in the smothering heat of the Chop Shop inferno. All Y/N. All an angel.

“You were trying to save me,” he begins, then stops. That really sums it up.

“I was,” Y/N agrees. “It was always about you, Connor.”

The idea doesn’t compute to him. “Then why wait until now to save my life? Why not make sure the Juveys never found us out in the first place?”

Y/N tilts their head to the side, considering this. “The job of a guardian angel is to save their primary assignment, sure, but also to minimize suffering wherever they go. I knew the Chop Shop explosion would happen if I didn’t save you. This needed to happen so everyone else here could be rescued. Worse things would have happened if I didn’t interfere now. It may not seem that way, but it is.”

Connor can practically feel gears in his head spinning. “So you knew how this would end the whole time?”

“I knew the great catastrophes of your life,” Y/N corrects. “I knew many paths you could take. This was the big risk, though. I didn’t get to see any more after that. Now I know just as much about your future as you do.”

Connor whistles under his breath. “That’s comforting.” Then, a terrible thought occurs to him. “Wait, that means I was your assignment. Like a job? Were you ever really my friend at all, or was that just something you had to do to complete your assignment?”

Y/N rears back as if hurt. “I have always been your friend. Guardian angels aren’t supposed to ever reveal themselves. I was actually meant to never talk to you until I saved you.”

“What changed?” Connor asks. He can’t stop himself.

Y/N smiles softly. “I saw you. You looked like someone fun.”

“Someone fun,” Connor echoes. He tries to think about his life, if anyone could see that and decide he was someone worthwhile. Someone fun. Someone an angel could watch and want to befriend. A warm feeling blossoms in his chest. Pride, maybe. Or the realization that the one secret he’s been keeping may go both ways after all.

“Yeah,” Y/N says, growing a little embarrassed. “I like you. My bad.”

Connor laughs. “That’s not bad. I like you too, by the way. In case you didn’t see it when you were receiving visions about my life.”

Y/N’s eyes dart up to his. “Really?”

“Really,” Connor says. “What, you didn’t know?”

Y/N shakes their head. “Like I said, I could only see what happened to you up to the Chop Shop exploding. Everything after that is a mystery.”

“Well,” Connor says, drawing closer to them. “I’m glad I get to surprise an angel once in my life.”

Before Y/N can ask him what he means, Connor kisses them, and after a moment of shock, they kiss him back. He’s not sure if he’s the first person in the world to have kissed an angel before, but he wouldn’t mind having that accolade under his belt. Just so long as he gets to be the person to kiss an angel two times, or three. Or forever.

requested by @julysn, i hope you enjoy!

unwind tag list: @reinekes-fox, @locke-writes, @sirofreak

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#connor lassiter #connor lassiter imagines #connor lassiter x reader #connor lassiter oneshot #unwind #unwind imagines #unwind x reader #unwind oneshot #unwind dystology #unwind dystology imagines #unwind dystology x reader #unwind dystology oneshot #unwind connor #unwind connor x reader #unwind connor oneshot

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harlowsbby · 1 year

Text

Bare wit me part 2

Love is so strange, one minute you’re head over hills for somebody and the next minute you’re crying your heart out and wondering what went wrong.

You getting cheated on wasn’t your fault but you couldn’t help but to blame yourself. Maybe you should’ve saw the signs sooner thinking back on times you’d leave Jack and Lilly alone flooded your mind, all those times they spent together they were sleeping with each other.

Maybe if you were a better girlfriend you wouldn’t have gotten cheated on, you weren’t so sure what it was or how to feel, your emotions were all in the wind you felt like you were going down and couldn’t get up.

“Y/N open the door please, you’ve been hiding in your room all day.” You’ve been staying with your friend Tae ever since you found out Jack was cheating on you, being alone would just take its tole on your mentally so staying with Tae was your best option.

“Let me be Tae please I don’t wanna see anybody ever again, I’m literally the joke of Atlanta right now.” Tae sighed and took out the spare key he had in his pocket before opening the door.

“How did you get in?”

“A spare key duh and I need you to get up and shower I’m not letting you lay around and feel depressed and sorry for yourself he isn’t worth it.”

Tae despised Lilly and Jack for what they did to you especially Lilly, you’ve all been best friends since elementary school he never thought Lilly would stoop so slow and sleep with someone’s man.

“I just hate the way I spent so much time and effort into a relationship that was failing Tae, this shit hurts so much. I was kept a secret for months and months and just to find out the reason why we couldn’t tell the world about us is because he was cheating on me with my so called best friend.”

“I understand your frustration and anger boo but sitting in this dark room all day and eating up all of my ice cream might I add, isn’t healthy.” Tae rubbed soothing circles on your back and you smiled.

“You’re right Tae thank you.”

“You’re welcome Y/N but seriously get up the charity event is tonight and you’re coming.” You groaned and tossed a pillow at Tae but smiled and got up and started the shower for you.

Every year around this holidays Atlanta always put together a charity event for those indeed, a lot of famous celebrities and influencers were invited and helped host the event and they even had musical guest, sadly this years music guest was Jack.

“Do I have to go? How about we both just stay in bed all day and watch movies.” You smiled nicely and even gave him your signature pout but Tae wasn’t falling for it.

“Nope you’re getting up and getting dressed and going, now get up you honestly smell like ten cans of bounce that ass.”

With the help of Tae you finally managed to get up and shower it felt good but the entire time all you thought about was Jack.

That night

“You slept with Lilly? Are you kidding me right now Jack.” You we’re a crying mess, you were sure people around were recording and ready to share them to all the known blogs but that was the last thing on your mind.

“Baby it was a mistake.”

“A mistake?!” Lilly stepped forward.

“You weren’t calling me a mistake just a few days ago, I wasn’t a mistake when you were fucking me after Y/N left to work.” Several gasp were heard from across the room.

“Really Jack? This whole time I was out here being faithful to you and doing nothing but loving and caring for you and towards you and you were out here cheating.”

“Please baby let’s talk about this somewhere more private.” He whispered and went to take your hand but you pulled your hand back and shook your head at him, tears stung your eyes.

“I hate you Jack I really and honestly hate you.”

“You don’t mean that Y/N.” Jack’s lip quivered and tried his best to mask his emotions but he couldn’t.

“I mean every word Jack. I hate you Jack and I hope you both rote in hell together.”

“Y/N are you done in there?! You’ve been showering for the past hour and it don’t take that long to wash some hair and your body.” Tae yelled from the other side of the door, you laughed and rolled your eyes. Turning off the water you grabbed the towel and dried yourself off before stepping out of the shower and opening the connected door.

“Yes Tae?”

“Uhh come on you have to get dressed and I need to do your hair” Tae was one of the best hairstylists in Atlanta, celebrities traveled to get their hair done by Tae and lucky for you he did your hair at no cost.

After you got dressed, Tae did your hair you smiled in approval at how well it looked. After Tae got ready the two of you got into the car he had ordered.

“Are you nervous?” You we’re nervous not because of the charity event but to see Jack again you knew he was currently in Atlanta and you were surprised you haven’t ran into him before tonight’s event.

“I’m nervous but as long as you’re there by my side everything should be okay.”

“Yeah so about that..”

“What are you talking about Tae?” Tae smiled at you sheepishly smile.

“I won’t be with you tonight like I will during certain times but I’ll be busy getting everything ready for the auction Y/N.”

“You promised you’d be with me all night Tae? Now I don’t wanna go I don’t wanna risk getting caught alone with Jack.”

“Just stay around where everyone else will be or sit at the table with Tuson and Ari.”

“Fine I’ll do that.” You pouted and sat back in your seat, you weren’t exactly thrilled that Tae wasn’t going to be with you for the night but as long as you stayed with Ari and Tuson you’d be good.

Once Tae and You arrived, cameras were immediately being shoved in your face.

“Y/N are all the rumors true? Did Jack Harlow cheat on you with your best friend.”

“Y/N over here?! Are you Jack Harlow’s mystery girl?!”

“Y/N, Y/N?!”

“Fuck I wish they’d leave us alone where the hell is security.”

“We’re almost inside Tae don’t even worry about them let’s just go.” When the two of you finally made it inside you sighed in relief. You went from actually being a nobody to finally being a somebody but not in a good way.

“Well I’ll see you around Y/N just stay with Ari and Tuson and you’ll be okay.”

“Don’t take long Tae please, I don’t want to run into Jack without you by my side.” Tae gave you a reassuring smile and gave your hand a quick squeeze.

“I promise Y/N whenever I have the free time I’ll be back out here with you okay?”

“Okay Tae.” He gave you a side hug before going off to the back rooms to get everything together for the auctions.

You felt as if everyone was looking at you and laughing at you, and maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you but you felt like you were the center of attention. Walking past people you could’ve swore they said your name or something about Jack.

Ari had texted you and said her and Tuson would be at the table in a few minutes they were just getting you all some drinks.

“Y/N is that you?” Looking up you you smiled seeing Druski.

“Druski?! Long time no see how have things been.” Druski smiled and pulled you in for a hug.

“Things have been good shorty I can’t complain you know could’ve been records has been out here blowing up, rumor is could’ve been is the hottest recording label out right now.” Druski stated, the two of you immediately bursted out laughing.

“I’m just fucking with you Y/N, but how you been shorty? I kinda heard about Jack and You.” Of course Druski did, it seemed like the whole city of Atlanta knew about Jack and You.

“I’m doing better now Druski, I’m still hurt obviously but I’ll be okay and I’ll get over it.”

Druski hated that Jack cheated on you as well he stopped talking to Jack for a few days because honestly Druski never thought Jack was one of those type of guys but clearly Jack proved him wrong.

“Well as long as you’re growing and moving on that’s all that matters.”

“You’re right Dru, when is Jack supposed to be performing anyways?”

“Uhh” Druski checked his phone seeing it was now ten at night.

“He should be coming on in a few minutes actually.” As if on que here came the Dj announcing Jack.

“Atlanta!! I need you all to stand the fuck up right now and show some love to Jack Harlow!!” Everyone in the room started screaming like crazy and started recording Jack.

You sucked in your breath seeing how good he looked, he was wearing a regular pair of levi jeans and a striped blue and white shirt with a pair of new balance jeans. It was something basic but Jack always pulled off the most basic looks.

“What’s up Atlanta? Y’all ready to party.” The crowd screamed and Jack immediately started singing Dua Lipa, after awhile of singing and talking to the crowed he decided to slow things down a bit.

“This song right here it’s dedicated to someone really special she isn’t in my life anymore but if you’re in this room right now I hope you know I miss you so much.”

“Is he singing a song about you?” Ari’s voice came from behind you. Looking up at Druski he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I didn’t know he was doing this honestly Y/N.” Druski told you.

“Why would he sing a song about Y/N when he’s with Lilly?” Tuson asked which received him a slap to the head by Ari.

“Tuson shut up.”

You watched how Jack sat down on the stool that was given to him, he looked around the crowd before his eyes locked with yours.

“This is for you.” He spoke into the mic, the entire time Jack sang he never took his eyes off of you.

“I know you sick of being my little secret, I know you sick of being my favorite, I know you hate the fact that I’m famous.” He sang and stood up, he started making his way towards the direction you were in.

“I told my therapist about you, she always takes your side, ain’t nobody I love more I just need more time.” He started singing with more passion, he wanted you to know that he heard you and that he knew he made a mistake but wanted you two to give what you once had another chance.

“Hate the fact that you gotta wait, but you gon wait, cause you confident that we soulmates.” You smiled sadly thinking back at those late nights after some of his shows you’d lay on his chest and draw random shapes on his chest with your fingers and tell him that the two of you were soulmates and would be together forever.

“Y/N are you okay?” Druski asked, you didn’t even notice you had tears streaming down your face till you rubbed your cheeks and noticed your makeup was smearing.

“Uh I’m okay Druski I’ll be right back okay? I just need to freshen up.” You quickly hurried out of the room.

“Where did she go?” Jack asked Druski backstage.

“She went to the bathroom but I don’t think she’s taking you back Jack I mean what you did was fucked up, sleeping with her best friend? And then you brought Lilly here.”

“I don’t have the time for a lecture right now Druski, I have to get Y/N back.”

“Damn you Tae, I don’t even know why I came tonight, damn you Tae I should’ve stayed home and finished eating my ice cream.” You complained to yourself before leaning against on the of walls.

What were you doing honestly you knew you should’ve stayed home, you should’ve known Jack was going to pull some stuff of stunt like that.

“Y/N?” You never thought you’d hear that voice again turning around slowly you were now face to face with Jack.

“What do you want? Haven’t you caused me enough pain. Don’t you have some new girlfriend to entertain.” You spat at him.

“Look Lilly and me aren’t a thing all of that is fake we never got together. I wanted to see if you’d take me back Y/N.”

“Take you back? After all of the damaged you caused I don’t think so Jack.” You went to step away from him but he pushed you back into the corner gently, he raised both his hands and leaned them against the wall behind you, great now you were stuck.

“Give me one good reason why you won’t take me back Y/N.”

"I don't want a tainted love Jack, haven't you had enough?" Jack fucked up and you weren’t understanding what he didn’t get by that.

"Please Jack, please let me go you messed up things between us not me, you made that choice to sleep with Lilly." You cried out all you wanted was to go home you didn’t want to be here anymore.

You huffed and tried your best to avoid eye contact with him but he wasn't letting up.

"We aren't working out Jack it's over between us, please move l'm pretty sure your little girlfriend Lilly is waiting for you."

What you didn't know was that Lilly was hiding behind the corner listening to Jack and You, she peaked around the corner and glared seeing how dangerously close Jack was to you.

"Please Y/N I promise l've changed I realized I make a mistake sleeping with Lilly was the dumbest thing I’ve ever did.”

You weren’t even sure if you could trust him anymore what if he was lying to you again.

"I miss waking up to you in the morning, I miss hearing the sound of your soft snores in my ear whenever you'd lay on my chest." He smiled weakly as did you. If it was one thing Jack was good at it was changing the topic he loved saying things to make you feel better or make it seem like what he did wasn't as bad.

"I'm sorry Jack but I don't see us getting back together I can't get back together with a cheater, I trusted you, I trusted you with my heart and you broke it, Lilly and You."

While Jack and You were talking you didn’t notice that Lilly had snuck in she was on her way to use the bathroom but stopped when she heard people talking once she realized it was Jack and You she stayed hidden around the corner.

Lilly frowned she never meant to sleep with Jack the two of them were both drunk and one thing led to another and they kept an ongoing relationship for about five months. Lilly was in love with Jack and she wasn't about to let you take him away this time, not again.

"Can we start over Y/N? I promise baby please I promise I won't make those same mistakes again, Ineed you Y/N." You bit your lip nervously as you looked into Jack's eyes you weren't sure what to do or how to feel or what to even say.

We're you seriously about to take him back, after all of the things he put you through, you didn't feel like being his secret again and having to act like the two of you weren't a couple, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss him.

“There’s a reason why I can’t take you back Jack.” You gulped were you really about to tell him something that would most likely ruin his friendship with someone close to him.

“I can’t take you back because.”

“Because what baby? What’s the reason.”

“I can’t take you back because I slept with Urban while we were together.”

taglist 💗

@moody4world @mortirolo @minkookie95

@hoodharlow @heavyhitterheaux @nattinatalia

@jackmans-poison @jackharloww

@jacksmoviestar @harlowthot

@awhoere4more

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n

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hotsforharlow · 2 years

Note

Can I request something where Jack has a friend (it's a bit flirty and they're kinda talking) for a few months that no one has met yet, and one day he invites her to come down and meet him in Louisville. So like him and PG are in the sprinter van pulling up to the hotel to pick her up for like dinner or something, and she walks out looking absolutely stunning and takes all of their breaths away. Maybe one of them says "that's your girl?" And he just mumbles "working on it" when he sees that they're all gawking at her.

A/N: Hi, hope you enjoy this! I had a nice time writing it x

Your Girl?

The nervousness moving through you was nearly overwhelming as you looked at yourself in the mirror. It was your first time meeting anybody even remotely to do with Jack; never mind his closest friends. It was a step into the unknown with your relationship still more friendly than anything else. Not that you were talking to anyone else..and you hoped he wasn’t either. You looked down with a soft smile as your phone lit up like it had been doing so recently.

Hey ma, won’t be long x

The kisses were new but you followed his lead as you re-read the message more times than you’d admit as your smile only widened. You looked back at the mirror and softly painted your lips with a soft kissable pink colour.

See you soon x

You pressed the send button whilst spraying the last bit of perfume and trying to hype yourself up. Your soft locks moved down your shoulders as your hands moved over the tight fitted dress that showed you off perfectly without being too revealing. A teasing gesture for the flirtatious boy you were falling for. You couldn’t believe how fast the months had gone after advertising your enjoyment of his song on Instagram and surprisingly the next morning, you found a DM by him.

You had thought it was a false account until you had started video calling; his dreamy accent flooding your ears and those blue eyes staring into your soul nearly. Even with his busy schedule; you both managed to talk every day, even if it was only through messages. You felt like you’d known him forever. It was such a nice feeling to have someone and you hoped he felt the same.

The champagne he had ordered to your room was a nice touch as you sipped; bringing some courage into you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where are we even going?” Clay muttered as he typed away at his phone; the large van was crowded with his brother, Urban and more of their friends as they were on their way to the restaurant. “Just picking someone up.” Jack explained without looking up from his own phone; a smile tugging at his lips that Clay had only just realised. He shared a look with Urban whose face was as confused as he was. “He won’t tell me who he’s texting all the damn time.”

Jack only rolled his eyes as he sent the last text to say he was here as the van began to slow down. “Shut up Urb.” He grumbled as his cheeks began to flush. A chuckle was his only response as his group looked at each other in confusion as the door moved to open.

God, he couldn’t believe how much he had missed you as you came into view. The soft street lights make you glow. His blues caught sight of the matching gold KY chain bouncing with your steps. His eyes moved over that tight little dress that had his mouth watering. He watched your smile widen and he was about to move and reach for your hand when he heard his friend’s voice. “Damn.” Jack hated to turn away from you as he looked back to see them all; included Urban and his brother who had his own girl giving you an appreciative look.

“That’s your girl?” Jack was asked as their eyes still not so subtle moved over you. “Working on it.” Jack mumbled with a growing smirk; his confidence growing as he gently took your hand. “Hey, ma.”

You blushed prettily at his attention whilst taking the hand he offered; your fingers playing with his as you stepped into the vehicle. “Hi,” You softly spoke and waved at the group you only half recognized and the names a blur. Your eyes moved around for a seat but found none. “You can sit here?” Urban hummed; his legs spread and his hand patted his thigh. The action had you blushing but before you could even respond, Jack brought you into his lap and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“I’m glad you could make it.” He whispered into your ear as the van began to make its way to the restaurant. “Me too.” You hummed and looked back; locking eyes with him whilst playing with the large ring on his finger. His hand rested on your bare thigh as your fingers moved into his curls from behind whilst enjoying the ride.

#request #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow

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lostcybertronian · 2 years

Text

A Dark Shadow, A Shape

Summary: Corey picks the wrong target.

I hate Corey with my entire being but I will exploit this dynamic until the bitter end. Have some protective!Michael

---

Four years post-Michael, and your nightly routine was still the same: cook dinner, eat alone at your dining room table, take ten minutes to clean up, and put your leftovers out on the windowsill, just in case.

Tonight your hastily carved jack-o-lantern grinned at you with its slash of a smile as you set a plate of grilled vegetables and steak on the white-painted windowpane above your sink, chancing a glance out your backdoor– only empty backyard– before grabbing up the bowl of candy sitting on the sideboard and making for the front of the house.

Darkness settled in early that particular Halloween night, but Haddonfield kids could’ve cared less; they flooded the streets, dozens of cowboys and fairies and last minute sheet-ghosts because someone’s mom forgot what day it was. In more than one way, it seemed, and you thought of Michael then, Haddonfield was keen to forget.

You set the bowl on the front porch amid the fake cobwebs and plastic skeletons and retreated back into the house, not willing to partake in the festivities.

It was at that moment that your back door squeaked open, rusty, decades-old hinges complaining too loudly for you not to hear. It slammed shut again, and nothing more. But there was something unmistakeable in the air; something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight up.

“Michael?” You draw the blinds and shut the lights, sealing yourself away from the part of Halloween you had never felt too comfortable with to begin with. Your socked feet make no sound even on your old-ass creaky floor. “Is that you?”

A footstep behind you. That’s all the warning you got before a pair of hands grabbed you from behind, wrapping around your throat and squeezing tight.

You bucked and choked for air, fighting with all your strength against the unyielding grip of your attacker as seconds ticked by and darkness threatened to suck you away, until finally you popped your head back, connecting with hard plastic and the flesh beneath with enough force to send sharp pain blossoming through your head.

Your attacker yelped and his grip loosened, allowing you to break free as he stumbled back a few steps, clutching at the cracked plastic of his scarecrow mask. This gave you enough time to make a mad dash for the kitchen and your knife block, Scarecrow-man at your heels.

You were inches away when he dived, grabbing at your ankles and dragging you down. You smashed your head against the hard lip of the sideboard, a strangled scream tearing from your throat as you hit the floor, vision swimming. Still, you managed to flail as he crawled up your body, pinning you with his legs.

Grinning wildly through the half-ruined mask, Scarecrow-man produced a knife from seemingly nowhere, tilting it so it gleamed wickedly under the kitchen lights.

Time slowed down.

You saw him draw the knife back, ready to plunge it into your chest.

You saw a dark shadow, a shape, looming and impenetrable, appear behind him.

Then Scarecrow-man was being dragged off you and tossed across the room. There was a thud and your table tipped over, spilling your quilting materials all over the floor. The knife clattered and spun across the floor, but you didn’t see where it went.

You were too busy staring in awe up at the figure standing above you, thick, slow breaths echoing beneath his tattered, grimy mask. “Michael.”

He tilted his head. His one eye gleamed. He didn’t offer a hand to help you but he did stand still after you hauled yourself to your feet and grabbed his arm, swaying and fighting the sudden swell of nausea and vertigo, and that had to count for something. Blood dripped from a gash in your forehead down the side of your face.

“I knew you’d come back,” you breathed, and held up a hand to touch the gross, weathered plastic of his mask, tracing the groove of a bullet hole with the pad of your thumb.

Michael stared at you for another second, then his head snapped toward Scarecrow-man, who was clambering up, stripping off the scarecrow mask.

“Corey Cunningham?” You managed, and he grimaced. “I never took you for a cold-blooded killer.”

“I’m a lot of things,” he snapped, but paled as Michael took a step toward him, fists clenching at his sides.

You shook your head. It hurt. “You better get out of here before something happens.”

Michael took another step forward, and Corey bolted for your back door, disappearing into the Halloween night before either of you could do anything else, leaving you alone with Michael Myers, the babysitter murderer.

But of course, you weren’t scared of him.

“I left you some dinner,” you told him, and he turned to look at you, tilting his head to one side; it reminded you of a cat. “But you’re taking a shower first. You reek.”

#halloween ends #halloween kills #halloween #michael myers #michael myers x reader #corey cunningham #fanfiction #lostandwandering #my writing #lost writing tag #tw physical violence #tw blood #tw death #tw murder #look i told you i'm sorry about the person i will become #but i also have no regrets

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sequinsmile-x · 11 months

Text

Oizys - Part 2

Part 1

He never brought it up unless she did, small details emerging every now and again, usually after nightmares she would have once let him believe were about a cold floor in Boston, not the lumpy ground of the woods in Utah more than half a lifetime ago.

-x-

Hi friends!

This was only ever supposed to be a one shot, but I had an idea for a follow up and in classic Vic fashion it would not leave me alone so here we are. You definitely need to read part 1 for this to make sense!

I would like to dedicate this to @sapphoe-sun, who allows me to torment her with fics like this at my will. I'd apologise, but we both know I absolutely would not mean it <3

-x-

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: Troubled teen industry, implied/referenced abuse (nothing different to what would be mentioned in canon), trauma/PTSD

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily smiles as she gets out of the car, something in her chest easing as she walks towards Jess’s front door, excitement at seeing her children for the first time in a few days flooding through her system. Whilst she didn’t work for the BAU anymore, a decision she and Aaron had made a few months ago, she still helped out with cases when the team needed her. They’d spent the last few days in Ohio, the distance between her and her children feeling like she was on a different continent not just a couple of states away, and she was excited to be home.

Around rounds the car and places his arm around her shoulders. He drops a kiss on the top of her head as they step onto Jess’s porch and Emily rings the doorbell.

“I was thinking we should go to the zoo this weekend?” He says, and Emily tilts her head to look at him, “Vi loves the polar bear, Jack loves the lions. It’s one of the few places we can keep them both entertained.”

Emily chuckles and nods, “That sounds like a good idea,” she says, the thought of an uninterrupted day with her family making warmth buzz in her veins, “We may have to carry Vi away from the polar bear though, she thinks he’s her best friend.”

He laughs but any further conversation is cut off as Jess’s front door opens and he watches as something close to surprise flashes across his ex-sister-in-laws face, causing concern to spark in his stomach.

“Oh, hi,” Jess says, leaning against the doorframe, smiling as she looks at Emily, “If you’re here for the kids they aren’t here,” she says, and both of their smiles slip from their faces, “Your mom came to get them a couple of hours ago, she said she wanted to take them for dinner and she’d let you know.”

Any relief Emily had felt as they approached the house was now gone, her chest tighter by the second, “No,” she says, disconnecting herself from Aaron as she digs through her purse for her phone, her stomach twisting when she sees she has no new notifications, no texts or missed calls, “She didn’t call.”

Anxiety spreads through her veins like wildfire, destroying everything in its wake as her brain fills with worse-case scenarios that she knows are ridiculous but she can’t shake off, all of them finding places to hide in her lungs making it impossible for her to take a deep breath. She hated her mother having the kids by herself even when it was a planned thing, every minute an eternity until she saw her children again, but this was worse. The thought that she had no idea where they were enough to make her choke. She sees flashes of the wilderness as she blinks, a familiar chill she’d never been able to shake crawling up her spine, its hand wrapping around her throat.

She’s brought back to the moment by Aaron’s palm on her lower back, his warmth reaching her even through the material of her shirt, and she snaps out of it. She fixes a smile on her face, one she hopes the other woman can’t see through and clears her throat. Despite her panic, she knows Jess has no idea, that she doesn’t know the depth of Emily’s issues with her mother, and all she would have seen was a grandmother fresh back from an assignment in Europe who wanted to spend time with her grandchildren.

“She must have just forgotten, We all know how Vi and Jack can talk anyone's ear off,” she says, grateful that by some miracle her voice doesn’t shake. She looks up at Aaron, “We should just go to my mother’s they are probably there by now.”

She turns and walks away without saying goodbye to Jess, something Aaron covers up with a comment she barely hears about how it had been a long few days and that she was tired before he says goodbye for the both of them. Emily is already in the car, her seatbelt fastened and her thumbnail in between her teeth, when Aaron opens the driver's door and climbs in next to her.

The tension in the car is palpable, the air thick with everything she wants to scream but can’t. It had been eight months since the case that had made her accidentally admit her deepest secret to him and the team, a shared experience with an unsub that had briefly knocked down one of the walls she’d built when she was young. Aaron had been nothing but understanding since then. He agreed to not to her mother about it despite the fact Emily could so clearly see that he wanted to protect her from something that happened years before they had even met. He never brought it up unless she did, small details emerging every now and again, usually after nightmares she would have once let him believe were about a cold floor in Boston, not the lumpy ground of the woods in Utah more than half a lifetime ago. She wishes she’d told him years ago. That she’d set free the part of herself she’d locked up so tightly long before she had, his comfort and his warmth the balm she should have known she needed.

She can feel his gaze burning into the left side of her face as she purposely stares forward, sure that if she looked at him she’d burst into tears.

“Em-”

“Can we just go?” She asks, cutting him off, her voice harsher than she means it to be. She sighs and places her hand on his knee, squeezing tightly in a silent apology, “Please?”

There’s a beat of silence and for a moment she worries he’s going to argue with her, but then she hears the click of the key in the ignition followed by the start of the engine. He links one hand with hers and she holds on tightly, needing the connection she still wasn’t entirely sure how to ask for even after all this time. Affection he always seemed to know she needed before she did, always waiting at the sidelines ready to hand it out without being prompted.

They drive to her mother’s in silence, the only sound the repeated attempts of Emily trying to call her, the phone going to voicemail each time before she hung up without leaving a message before trying again.

Aaron holds her hand the entire way.

___

“Where the fuck are they?” Emily asks, her arms tight over her chest as they stand in her mother’s driveway after being told by her housekeeper that she wasn’t home yet and that the kids hadn’t been over at all.

“Have you tried calling her again?” Aaron asks, doing everything he can to keep calm himself despite his own anxiety rising. He needed to stay level-headed, something that Emily usually did herself, but the kids were, and always had been, her Achilles heel. The chink in her armour that made a woman who had faced death without blinking the nervous wreck in front of him.

“I haven’t fucking stopped trying, Aaron,” she shouts, her jaw tight as she grinds her teeth, “How does she not know that she can’t just take them somewhere? Who the fuck does she think she is just disappearing with them?”

Aaron knows that there isn’t an answer to that, and that whilst there was likely an explanation for all of this, no matter how flimsy, which Elizabeth would deem as a reason. He doesn’t say it though as he watches his wife pace back and forth in front of the house she had once lived in, her nerves shot as she tortures herself with scenarios he knows he won’t be able to talk her out of. The only thing that would calm her down would be seeing Jack and Violet.

He’s about to risk his career by abusing all of the systems he has access to, his phone in his hand to call Penelope to ask her to put out an APB on Elizabeth, when he hears the familiar churn of the front gate. He turns at the same time as Emily and the relief he feels is palpable when he watches Elizabeth’s car pull into the driveway.

Emily swears she doesn’t have control of her body as she walks towards the car, her legs shaking underneath her as her mother’s driver gets out of the car and opens the back door, lifting Jack out and onto the ground. She takes a breath so deep that it hurts, catching on every rib as she sucks it in when she sees Elizabeth climb out of the car, Violet already in her arms from where she’d removed her from the car seat. She turns away for a moment so the kids can’t see her, and she tries to catch her breath as she wipes her cheeks, pushing away tears of relief that had escaped past her lashline.

“Mom, Dad!”

She blows out a breath before she turns back to face them as Jack calls for them and she smiles widely, wearing it like a mask, as she crouches down as he runs over. She wraps her arms tightly around him and kisses the side of his head, the smell of his shampoo calming her down.

“Hi honey,” she says, pulling back to look at him, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he replies, squeezing her once more before he untangles himself from her to hug Aaron. Emily briefly watches the two of them together, before she’s distracted by her daughter.

“Mama!”

She looks over at her two-year-old and beams, purposely ignoring her mother as she takes Violet from her and pulls her into her arms.

“Hi sweet girl, Mama missed you,” she says, placing repeated kisses against her little girl’s dark hair, “Mama missed you so much.”

“Grandma took us for pizza,” Jack says, his voice full of excitement, and Emily looks at her mother, her eyes cold whilst neither of her children are looking at her.

“That was nice of her,” Emily says carefully, her eyes locked with Elizabeth’s as she makes her feelings clear despite her choice of words.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen them so I thought I’d surprise them,” Elizabeth says, and Emily has to suppress a bitter chuckle, creating a lump in her chest that hurts, and she shakes her head.

“It was a surprise for everyone,” Emily mutters, and Aaron steps closer to her, his hand on her back as he takes Violet from her, kissing the toddler's forehead as he says hello and settles her on the ground simultaneously.

“Jack,” he says, turning to look at his son, “Take your sister and get in the car,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, “You can play music on here or watch some of those videos she likes on YouTube if you want.”

Jack looks back and forth between them, his eyes flicking from Emily and Elizabeth who were in a silent standoff, and Aaron who was still looking at him, and he nods. He reaches out for Violet's hand and starts to lead her to the car.

“Come on Lettie,” he says, using the nickname only he used for his little sister, “That means the grown-ups have to talk.”

Violet, mercifully unaware of the awkwardness her brother had picked up on, follows gladly, always happy to be wherever Jack was. The three adults wait until they hear the car door open and then close again, the silence that follows the slam of the door loud and uncomfortable.

“Where the hell were you?” Emily asks, her anger barely restrained now the anxiety was gone and she knew her children were safe, “You can’t just take them somewhere without telling us.”

Elizabeth sighs, “I told Jessica where we were going.”

“I am their mother,” Emily grits out, her hands tight around her arms as she crosses them over her chest, her nails digging in through her shirt, “You need to tell me where they are. Via a phone call, or a text at least.”

“Emily, you’re being dramatic-”

“I tried to call you,” she says, cutting Elizabeth off, “Dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer your fucking phone?”

If Elizabeth wants to reprimand her for her language she doesn’t, instead she sighs, shaking her head at what she clearly still thinks are dramatics from her daughter.

“You know what I’m like with my phone, and I thought we’d be here before you.”

Emily laughs bitterly, well aware of Aaron standing just behind her, “That’s not good enough.”

Elizabeth crosses her arms over her chest, defensive in a way Emily doesn’t think she deserves to be, “You’re acting like you don’t trust me with them.”

Emily scoffs, “That’s because I don’t,” she seethes through her teeth, keeping as quiet as she can despite her fury because she knows Jack and Violet are in the car and that no matter how loudly Jack played music on Aaron’s phone, they’d still be able to hear them, “I don’t trust you with them.”

Elizabeth visibly deflates, her arms dropping to her sides, and it only stokes the fire in Emily’s belly. Her mother’s surprise an accelerant to her anger, because the fact she was shocked, that she couldn’t think of one reason why Emily wouldn’t trust her, hurts more than she cares to admit even to herself.

Anger had always been easier than acknowledging how much power her mother still had over her even now.

“Emily-”

“Why would I trust you?” She cuts her mother off before she can say anything, not interested in hearing any of it, “I was taken from this house in the middle of the night when I was 16 years old,” she says, pointing at the place she had never quite been able to call home, “I woke up terrified to two men standing at the end of my bed and I thought ‘if I can get Mom’s attention this will be ok,’” she hates how her voice cracks, and she hears Aaron take another step closer to her, “But then I saw you standing at the door, watching it happen.”

It hangs between them for a moment, the weeks that neither of them had ever spoken about, and she watches as Elizabeth looks past her, her eyes clearly fixed on Aaron, before she looks back at Emily.

“That was for your own good,” Elizabeth replies carefully, “You were out of control.”

“I was a child. And don’t for one second pretend it was done for anything other than protecting your reputation.”

If those weeks in the woods had taught Emily anything, it was that she had made the right call not telling her mother that she was pregnant the year before. She knew that her ability to make her own choices would have been pulled out from under her and she would have been sent away. Forced to live in hiding under a shelter built by shame and her mother’s disappointment until she returned 9 months later without a baby, doomed to live as if nothing had happened.

She hoped that if, god forbid, something similar happened to Violet in the future she would come straight to her. That her daughter would know she was a safe space and always would be, and that she’d hold her hand through it all no matter what her decision would be.

“Emily,” Elizabeth says, as if speaking to a child, “Why don’t we go inside and talk?”

“Why?” She asks, “So the neighbours don’t hear? So no one else finds out you send your kid to a behavioural camp when all she wanted was for you to love her,” she says, purposely making her voice louder towards the end of the sentence. “I slept outside for weeks in a crappy tent full of holes and a sleeping bag that was probably older than I was,” she says, wiping a tear away furiously from her cheek, her knuckle rough against her skin, “We were barely allowed to eat. What did I do that deserved that?”

Elizabeth doesn’t flinch and Emily hates that she can’t tell if thats because she already knew or because she was just so good at never showing how she really felt. She wants to see a reaction across her mother’s face. She wants to see horror, or sadness or guilt. Anything other than the same expression that had always made her want to scream.

“You were drinking, partying, getting up to all sorts with who knows-”

“I was a teenage girl,” she says, chuckling humourlessly, “It doesn’t take being a profiler to know that all I wanted was your fucking attention,” she feels the fight drain from her and turns to look at Aaron, almost colliding with his chest he was so close now, “Let’s go home.”

“Emily, you can’t just walk away,” Elizabeth calls after her.

“Yes I can,” she replies, not even looking back, “I’m done.”

“You are not a child-”

“Do you want to know what I thought when I didn’t know where you and the kids were?” Emily asks sharply, turning to look at her mother and taking a step back towards her. She waits until Elizabeth nods, and she shakes her head, “I thought you’d taken them somewhere like that.”

This time, horror does sweep over Elizabeth’s face, and jealousy that makes Emily feel guilty swoops through her belly.

“Emily,” Elizabeth says, shaking her head, “I would never do that to them.”

She feels something snap inside of her, any control she had over her emotions is gone in an instant. Everything she’d thought ever since those long weeks in the Utah wilderness coming out as she shouts at her mother.

“Then why did you do it to me?”

Her words echo around them, the accusation wrapped up as a question rippling outwards in a way Emily isn’t sure will ever stop. She finally tears her gaze away from Elizabeth’s and briefly looks at Aaron before she walks away, the car door opening and shutting quickly.

Aaron looks up at his mother-in-law and has to remember every promise he has ever made to his wife to stop himself from saying something. He’d stayed silent throughout the argument, well aware that as much as he wanted to intervene Emily did not need him to protect her. She needed him to love her, to comfort her, and that is exactly what he intended to do.

He stares at Elizabeth, his eyes stern as he stands in place a beat too long before he turns in silence to walk the short distance to the car. When he climbs in Emily is just settling back into her seat after clipping Violet into her car seat in the back and the only sound is a song playing on his phone that was still in Jack’s hand. He starts the car, and drives away, the gate still open from when Elizabeth and the kids had arrived.

Emily reaches out for his hand and he takes it, squeezing her fingers together in a silent promise that everything would be ok.

___

It’s bedtime before they have a moment alone.

If he hadn’t known Emily as long as he had, or hadn’t seen her ability to keep up appearances so many times first-hand, he would have been taken aback at how normal she had acted all evening. The switch between baring her scars to her mother outside the house where it had all begun, to helping their kids with homework and bath time with a smile on her face when they could home, was almost jarring. She laughed with Jack as he tried to teach her how to play one of his video games, the little boy unaware that Emily was already very good at it, but acting as if she wasn’t for a moment of mother-son bonding. She paced back and forth in Violet’s bedroom, the toddler half asleep against her shoulder as she demanded another lullaby, her mother’s singing voice one of the few things that could get her to sleep ever since she was a newborn.

He’d always been impressed with his wife’s ability to compartmentalise, even back when she was just a member of his team, but tonight it made him sad. His awareness of where it came from, that it was one of the things she shared with her mother, the woman who had let her down so spectacularly, a kick to the gut.

They are both sat up in their bed, the door slightly ajar for when Violet inevitably joined them in the night, and their backs against the headboard before Emily says anything.

“I don’t…I don’t know how to fix this,” she says, her focus on her hands as she rubbed cream into them, something she insisted on doing every evening, “I don’t know if I want to fix this.”

He turns to look at her, his eyes lingering on her side profile, every bit as breathtaking as she was the day they met and more. She sometimes lamented getting older, her nose scrunched up as she looked at herself critically in the mirror. He thought, and made a point of telling her, that she had never looked more beautiful. Every change to her body, every laugh line on her face, a reminder of the life they shared together.

He wondered if she hated getting older, if she rubbed cream into her hands that supposedly slowed down ageing, because there was part of her that worried she’d turn into her mother. Something he knows simply isn’t possible.

“It’s not up to you,” he says, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear, smiling softly when she turns to look at him, “I think the ball is firmly in her court, sweetheart.”

She nods, humming softly before she leans into his side. She sighs as she wraps his arm around her shoulders, his comfort enveloping her in the way she needed it to.

“She’ll never apologise,” she muses, reaching out for one of his hands, half smiling when she doesn’t miss how he grimaces at the feel of her slippery skin but holds on to her anyway, “Even if she realises what she did was wrong she won’t…and I guess I have to find a way to be ok with that if I want to continue to have a relationship with her.”

He wants to tell her that they never have to speak to her mother again if she doesn’t want to, but he knows it won’t achieve anything tonight.

“Well,” he says, hooking his finger under her chin and making her look at him, “you don’t have to be ok with it tonight. Or even tomorrow,” he leans in and stamps a kiss against her lips, “Or the day after that.”

She chuckles softly, and kisses him once more before pulling away, “Or the day after that?”

“We can take this at whatever pace you want,” he assures her, “We’ll figure out what you want to do and go from there.”

She smiles at him, her eyes shining with tears she doesn’t want to shed and she rests her forehead against his for a moment, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says, cupping the back of her head, “Now we should try and get some sleep, we’ll have a little monster in our bed in the early hours of the morning demanding your attention.”

She chuckles but lightly slaps his chest as they lay down, “Don’t call our daughter a little monster,” she says, and his only response is to pull her into his arms. She curls around his side, seeking out the warmth she would have once thought didn’t exist as she settles down, her head on his shoulder, “The kids love her.”

He sighs and runs his hand up and down her back, his fingers catching on the notches of her spine, “I know they do,” he says, kissing the top of her head, “And I know whatever you end up deciding will be the right thing.”

She scoffs, unsure how he could be so sure when she felt so adrift, his love for her the liferaft she was desperately clinging onto. “How do you know that?”

“Because you love them, and you’re the best mom on the planet,” he says, holding her impossibly closer when the praise makes her tense in his arms just like it always did, “You always put them first.”

She hides her smile into his t-shirt, her eyes closed as she tries to hold off tears. It’s all she’d ever wanted - to be the mother she had craved when she was a kid herself, and she liked to think that’s exactly what she was. She was the one both Jack and Violet sought out when they were sick or upset, just like their father did, and she was the one they both came to when they needed help. She hoped that would continue, that it would change from helping them with homework or opening up a new toy to helping with problems with friends at school and their first love and heartbreak. She always wanted to be the first person they called, that they’d know she would always be there ready and waiting.

“Let's get some sleep,” she whispers, already being lulled into relaxation by her husband’s hand dragging up and down her back as the exhaustion of the day finally takes over.

“Love you, sweetheart,” he says, his lips against the top of her head as she gets heavier against him.

“You too,” she mumbles, her words slurring together.

He’s still awake, keeping a vigil over Emily, her soft snores filling the room, when Violet sneaks in several hours later, her eyes bleary and her hair a mess as she drags her toy polar bear behind her. If the toddler realises he’s awake she doesn’t acknowledge him, instead walking around the bed and climbing onto it, crawling to her mother’s side. She’s barely laid a hand on her, her tiny fists grasping at her mother’s t-shirt when Emily stirs, turning to face Violet with her eyes half open.

“Hi Vi,” she mumbles as the little girl lays down next to her, curling up in her mother’s already waiting embrace.

“Mama,” the toddler mutters, already mostly asleep again now she was in Emily’s arms.

Aaron watches the whole thing with amusement as his wife starts snoring again and he's not sure she was ever fully awake. He settles onto his side and wraps his arms around the two of them, finally allowing himself to drift off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that whatever happened next, they’d all be ok because they had each other.

-x-

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galactigoos · 1 year

Text

What Happened Last Night Pt.3 - Jack Russell x Reader

Summary: Lycanthropy, much like periods, turn out to be a multi-day monthly annoyance.

Warnings: Some injury, being grumpy, retail jobs (the horror!), and only a little bit of Jack. :( Sorry. You both need space after you called him a monster. You did, not me, don’t blame me.

Word Count: ~1.7k

A/N: lol hi. its been months and idk if anyone cares about this anymore other than the sweet souls who pushed me to publish another chapter. I would like to write more. I’m fairly certain this is going to be less than ten parts total, and that seems like something I can finish.

In other news im fucking obsessed with Red Dead Redemption II so lowkey might write something for that once this is over.

Oh also I changed my url from @ / ABitGryffindorky to @galactigoos. I wanted to make my AO3 and tumblr match, make them different than my other socials so fanfic doesn’t come up when a job searches me, and JKRowling is a terf bitch. Oh and I had a stalker so thats really what prompted the change lol.

Cross-posted on AO3, as always.

Part 1, Part 2

Perhaps you hadn’t really thought through this whole running away thing. It only took about two minutes for your broken ankle to really catch up to you. Pain radiated through your ankle, spiking with every step, no matter how light it was.

But you wouldn’t go back. Not to him. So you soldiered on, picking up a large stick to serve as a cane along the way. By sheer luck, you successfully wandered back to your house.

Your poor house. The one-story little shack had its back door ripped off the hinges. A few of your dining chairs had given their lives in service of your moon-induced freakout last night. Your bedroom door had slammed against the wall so forcefully the knob was stuck in the drywall.

Leaving most of the carnage for a better day, you placed the back door into its rightful place so no animals would get in. Well, no other animal besides yourself. The thought brought a humorless laugh forward. The absurdity of the situation, the sheer isolation you now faced, piled onto you, forcing you to the floor in a fit of delirious laughter.

You kept laughing. Past when your lungs tired, past when your laugh became more of a shaking wheeze, past the tears that had accompanied your anguish. You couldn’t stop. You laughed until your tired, broken body could no longer handle the strain, and you succumbed to the gentle relief of unconsciousness.

…

At least this time when you woke up naked in the forest, you weren’t caught in any traps. You were alone and relatively unharmed aside from a long gash ripping up your torso.

You groaned as you hauled yourself to your feet. When you stood, your ankle made its presence known. But it was not the scream for attention you faced yesterday, but more of a soft yell. It felt much, much better, but still carried enough pain to force you to limp.

Was this going to happen every fucking night?

…

After calling into work and once again resetting your back door (thankfully your only damage this time), you decided you needed a plan. If this was going to keep happening, you could not keep running into the woods stark naked. You were out of sick days at work and were already well past your skill level in home repairs.

So you spent the day modifying the leaky, cold cellar beneath your house. It couldn’t be called a basement. The cottage you had inherited was old. Like so old, the best way to deal with flooding was to build a cobblestone wall under your house with a space for water to run through. The cellar had now been reinforced with concrete, but the drain structure remained the same. The space was unused by you, given the room was designed to flood. So you didn’t have to clear anything out; what you did have to do was secure it.

The cellar was entered through a door in your kitchen. Down a short flight of stairs, there was another door, this one metal, to keep out a draft. You dug through junk drawers and your shed to find every lock you could, and set to work securing them all to the door from the stairs. You even hauled your mattress to be propped up against the door for some added weight. After triple checking the locks, you grabbed a bottle of NyQuil and went outside.

There, you were able to remove the mesh that normally protected your cellar from debris, and squeezed yourself through the drain opening. Thank god the old motherfuckers that built this shack left a big enough hole.

By now, it was the middle of the afternoon. You did everything you could to stay awake, despite the exhaustion of the previous two days threatening to pull you under. You talked to yourself, you sang, you worked out. Anything.

And when it started to get darker, you paced anxiously. You removed your clothes (no point in destroying another outfit) and prayed that the werewolf would not be able to fit through the gap to the outside world. At the last second you could bear to wait, you chugged the NyQuil. Hopefully, a tired werewolf was a less destructive one. And hopefully you didn’t just overdose on NyQuil.

…

You’ve never been so happy to wake up on a cold slab of concrete. Apparently, a tired werewolf was unable to claw through your defenses. There were scratches along the cellar walls and the doorknob had been bitten into a shape resembling a crumbled wad of paper, but you were still in your house. You redressed and crawled out of your night’s sanctuary.

You had sustained a rather ugly cut across your face, going over the bridge of your nose, narrowly missing your eyes. You pictured the wolf trying to rub the sleep from its tired, drugged eyes, which was… slightly endearing? As you were otherwise unharmed, you went about your normal morning routine, with about ten times your regularly required caffeine.

It wasn’t until you were stumbling off your bike in the parking lot of the tavern that you realized your ankle didn’t hurt. You were limping still, but there was no pain. And addressing the rest of your body quickly, you noticed that most of your wounds had healed. The gash on your stomach was still tender, but even your ear had repaired itself, leaving just an angry scar and a knick on the outside edge of your cartilage where you must’ve taken a chunk clean off. All things considered, you weren’t doing too bad.

Your boss ignored your haggard state, not that you had expected him to give a shit. Mr. Glendon was always too caught up in tending to the lush garden beside the pub to notice much about his employees. As long as you did your job well enough that he didn’t have to do his, he was happy.

In a zombified state you went through the motions of customer service, serving coffee, pancakes, and toast with a smile. Internally, you were cursing this stupid fucking establishment for being open from 6AM-2AM and requiring you to drag yourself to a goddamn pub for a breakfast shift. You were so tired you hadn’t read the name on the DoorDash order you packaged. You could not as easily ignore the man who walked in to pick it up.

When the bell above the door rang, you smiled and automatically started a welcoming comment, but froze mid-sentence when your eyes met Jack’s. He froze too, halfway through the door, glancing behind him like he was ready to forget the mediocre waffles sitting behind the counter.

“Come on,” you grumbled, gesturing him inside.

“Lo siento. I was just grabbing us breakfast before we leave town. You won’t have to see me again. I had no clue you work-”

“Waffles, Jack,” you said, cutting him off and shoving the bag at him.

“Right, waffles,” he replied, grabbing the bag and getting out his wallet, and shoving five dollars into the tip jar before you could stop him. “Okay. I’m sorry. Goodbye, y/n.”

He spun to leave. You wanted to let him. He was dangerous and had likely gotten you into this mess. But at the same time, he was the only one who could help you through it. So you had to stop him. He was almost out the door when you called his name. Well, more accurately you whispered it, as part of you was hoping he wouldn’t hear you and you wouldn’t have to keep him in your life. His werewolf senses threw a wrench in your plan, and he spun on his heel and came back to you. He didn’t say anything, just looked at you. His eyebrows were knit with worry, and he tilted his head slightly like the stupid fucking dog he was.

“How much longer? I can’t keep,” you looked around and lowered your voice, “transforming every night.”

Jack let out a breath he was holding, apparently relieved you weren’t about to continue your name-calling of your previous encounter.

“You’re done for this month, cariño. Three days a month. It’s manageable,” he said with a reassuring smile. He looked tired, even more so than you did. You wondered what he had been doing while you were having a meltdown and playing Doomsday Preppers: Werewolf Edition.

You nodded, relieved in the knowledge that you would have a reprieve now.

Jack cleared his throat. “I know you do not want me around, but perhaps I could put you in contact with some others like us? It’s tough to figure out all on your own.”

“You want me to tell more people? Absolutely not!”

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, I wanted to offer. Best of luck, y/n. I won’t bother you again. If you need anything,” he said, ripping the receipt from his bag and snatching a pen from a cup on the hostess station, “Here’s my number.”

You stared at the scrap of paper offered to you, and hesitated before taking it.

“I’m not trying to impose on your life. I just want you to have help if you need it. No strings attached,” Jack said, filling the silence. You took the paper and shoved it into your back pocket. Jack gave you a tight smile and a nod, and left.

You weren’t given much time to ponder the interaction as the demands of your job quickly stole your focus away from Jack.

…

After work, after your commute home, and after your door fell out of its frame when you tried to enter your own home (you had forgotten it was no longer on its hinges), you were staring dumbly at your mattress-less bed frame. It took you a full minute to remember that your mattress was shoved against your basement door. You huffed, making your way to your couch, as there was no way you were going to bother with lugging your mattress up a flight of stairs after an 8 hour shift.

This was unsustainable. Your house was in shambles, your body scarred, and you were alone and ill equipped to handle any of this. You texted Jack before you could think better of it.

*Cue werewolf training montage*

Also cue Jack jumping up in down at excitement at getting a text.

“See, Ted? I knew she would text! I’m glad we stayed an extra night :D”

Feedback, criticism, comments, reblogs, and likes are all always appreciated. Please tell me what you think! I apparently forget about fics unless you guys hound (pun intended) me about them.

Tags: @starfirette, @nicolewithanee, @fangurldayandnight, @zakizigekwe, @for-bebbanburg, @missdragon-1, @howlingco, @arvalee-knight, @emiemiemiii, @spicydonut25, @sparkythefallen1, @girlymusiclover09, @pxl8ed, @littlenosoul, @lemmons1998, @may4ri, @i-am-iron-man-3000, @maxppt

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist lmk!

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imaginedreamwrite · 2 years

Note

Carving a Jack-o-lantern with BBB cause those knife skills and maybe Sargent Barnes is watching the two others and practicing little flips under the table and reader gives him a loving snuggle before returning to her carving.

Halloween countdown Day 8 — carve a jack o’ lantern

“Pumpkins, why do you have pumpkins?” His observation was astutely aired when he found the large gourds sitting on the kitchen table.

“Jack-O’-lanterns, Winter.” You barely explained while passing him, dropping a few knives on the table near the three pumpkins. “We’re carving jack-o’-lanterns for Halloween.”

Winter had remained silent and observing the pumpkins you had laid out, his lips pursed when he had settled his gaze upon the knives you had set down. Without much of another word, the deadly assassin had walked toward the table and picked up one of the knives then turned it in his hands. His eyes narrowed speculatively when he observed the blade, finally concluding and setting it down again.

“These knives aren’t sharp enough to cut the pumpkins.” He quipped and drew his hand behind his back, grabbing the hilt of a knife he had on him. “You need something like this.”

“Do you…” your eyes narrowed slightly, and with a tilt of your head, you stared Winter down. “Where do you hide those things?”

“You want me to show you?” Winter toyed with you, licking his bottom lip when he looked you over. “Come a little closer-“

“I’m not falling for that again, the last time I listened to you I could barely walk.” The remainder of that night was preset as warmth flooded your body and you shivered pleasantly at the thought of his hands and his lips on your flesh.

“Besides, we’re supposed to be carving these things.” You stepped around Winter and moved toward the table, grabbing hold of one of the pumpkins by the stem. “Bucky’s on a mission but he should be back tomorrow, and Sarge is gonna be back any minute.”

“A lot can happen in a minute.” Winter followed you and you had felt the cool brush of a blade against your arm, the flattened edge bearing you no real risk unless he wanted to hurt you. “I wonder how much I could cut off in a minute?”

“Winter,” you turned and faced him, your back resting against the edge of the table and your hands pressed against his chest, “use the knife on the pumpkin, not me.”

“Why not both?” He leaned in, lips barely grazing yours. He had reached around you with his knife in hand before you heard the thud of the blade hitting the top of the pumpkin, effortlessly carving the top without even having to look at where he was going. “I can do both.”

“…you’re kind of a show-off…” You grumbled under your breath, looking over your shoulder noticing the top was cut with pristine accuracy.

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sinsandsuccubus · 1 year

Text

SEVEN DEVILS - Jack Harlow (II)

Context: “See, I was dead when I woke up this morning. I'll be dead before the day is done.”

Genre: Fantasy

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairings: Priest!Jack Harlow X Witch!Fem!Reader

Warnings: n/a

A/N: Long time no see, but I am back with Seven Devils after a long delay. There is one more part after this, so stay tuned.

Click here for Part 1!

Masterlist ☽☾

☽ ☾

Static electricity flickered throughout the room, the fairy lights cascading the room being the only source of light. Pages turned through the book, fingertips emulating deep blue between each flick.

“You know honey, sneaking up on a witch is never ideal.”

She flicks her wrist, spinning around and settling on her feet, her husband facing her with a gust of wind.

“I always forget you can do that.”

“Yeah, you do.” She chuckles, bringing him into a long, loving kiss. They part at the sound of feet rumbling down the steps, the books displayed around the room being tucked away with a flicker of blue light.

“Girls! What have I told you about sneaking up on mommy and I? More importantly, about coming into the basement?”

“But daddy! We’re hungry!”

“How does chili sound for dinner?”

“Come on dad, we had that two nights ago!” The littlest one of out the two followed her towering father up the steps, the man ducking his head to avoid the beams.

“Mommy, why aren’t we allowed in the basement?” The two moved towards the stairs, the woman crouching down to meet eyes with her oldest child.

“You’ll learn soon enough my love. One day mommy will tell you what she doesn’t down here. But for now, let’s head upstairs. Maybe I can convince your father not to make that chili.”

“Thank god mom. I was starting to get sick of it.”

☽ ☾

Memories flooded your vision as you stood in, your once, family kitchen. The aroma of beef stew filled the kitchen, a plethora of herbs laying on the counter. Weeks had passed since the night of the ritual, and you had only seen Jack a few times in passing; you and Diana spending most of your time preparing for a ritual that was due soon as it took place during the full moon. Smiling to yourself, you brought the steaming broth to your mouth, blowing the steam away before swallowing the liquid.

“It’s missing something…. potatoes!” You exclaimed, flickering your wrist, drawing your tote bag over your shoulder, keys flying into the other hand. Swiftly, you shut and locked the door, standing back to look at it as you thought about your sister.

“She has a key.” You mumbled before moving your way along to the market.

☽ ☾

Chattering fluttered from each stall as you browsed through the market, some of the patrons waving as you passed. One older gentleman drew your attention, your legs moving you to his stall.

“Good evening Miss. Y/N.”

“Good evening Mr. Johnson. How are your sales today?”

“They’re going pretty well dear, everyone seems to be fond of my wife’s pies. Although I think we should keep them for ourselves.” He leaned in and whispered the last statement, a chuckle leaving your lips, his wife then popping up from behind the booth.

“Andrew! You know we can’t do that! Our produce alone doesn’t just bring home the money. And what about Y/N? What would she do if we kept the pies to ourselves?” The woman winked at you, you picking up on what she was putting down.

“Yeah, Mr. Johnson! What about me? Are you just gonna abandon me… what about my needs?” You spoke in shock, head hung low to resemble pain, and hurt.

“No, no dear! Of course, I’d save some for you.”

“Mhmm. That’s what they all say.” Mrs. Johnson mumbled, to which you both burst out in laughter, your hands clutching your stomach as you doubled over.

“It’s always a pleasure stopping by your stall.”

“It’s always a pleasure to see you Y/N. Is there anything you’d like to purchase?”

“Yes, of course. Some of your red potatoes? And a few spices, I’m making beef stew tonight for Diana and I.”

“Ah, that does sound good. Why don’t you take some of the fresh rolls my wife made this morning, free of charge.”

“Mr. Johnson-“

“Please, dear. Take them. Besides, if you don’t eat them, I will.” The old man spoke with a smile, causing you to shake your head in slight laughter.

“Yes sir.” You handed him the money to pay for your original items, receiving a medium-sized bag full of potatoes and spices, alongside a large bag of bread.

You smiled at the man before noticing his gaze trail off, your eyes following his gaze.

“Ah, Pr-“

“Please, call me Jack.”

“Ah yes. J-Jack. What a pleasure to have you here.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir. Y/N.” He turned to you and kissed your knuckles with sincerity, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Have you and Jack already met?”

“Ah yes, in the-“

“In the town square. She was the first person I stumbled upon when I arrived. I was mesmerized by her beauty.” Mrs. Johnson looked at you, a smirk hinting on her lips.

“She offered to show me around town. Right Y/N?”

“Y-yes. Thank you for the groceries, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.”

“Of course dear! Have fun! And use protection!” The elderly woman yelled out, laughter heard from behind you as you and Jack walked away.

“I’m so sorry for those two.”

“It’s quite alright Y/N.”

“Mesmerized by my beauty huh? What a great response.”

“I like how you remember that outside of our fake meeting.”

“Touché.”

“So… where are you taking me?” Jack mouthed like a kid, making you let out a sigh that turned into a chuckle.

“A secret.”

“Oo~ Some place secretive. How do I know you’re not kidnapping and plotting to kill me?”

“First off, it’s not kidnapping if you’re a willing participant. Second of all, I could say the same thing about you in the woods the other night.”

“Touché.”

The two of you burst out into laughter once more, you taking in Jack’s face. Noticing the crinkle of his eyes while he laughed.

His eyes were a beautiful shade of crystal blue in the light, his curls forming a beautiful aura around his face, almost like a halo.

You could say he was a saint.

Except for the fact he was watching you in the woods.

“You’re staring gorgeous.”

“You’re the one who just called me gorgeous.”

“Well, you are.”

“Are you bold about everything?”

“Pretty much. In fact…” He came to a complete stop on the path, looking between your warm eyes and your plump lips.

“May I?”

“I-“ You pondered the decision before the crunch of a branch startled you, noticing a bunny hopping along the treeline.

“We’re here.” You followed the bunny through the trees, ducking under branches as you turned towards the tall man, who had hung back with a pondering look.

“Trust me.” You held out your hand, which he gracefully grabbed, as you pulled him into the scenery before you.

It was stunning.

Trees towered over the two of you, their leaves colorful for the fall. The sounds of water trickling sent goosebumps over your skin, a ring of stones lining the pond that the water fell into.

Jack watched as you skipped along the edge, fear striking up his spine, visions of you slipping into the pond flashing before him, electricity flying up his hands.

However, it was when you settled on a high-sitting-flat-stone, that he calmed down. He followed you swiftly, sitting down next to you, feet swinging next to yours.

“This is beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You paused.

“I’d like to show you something.” You stood, standing up on the rock. Jack's eyes grew wide as you began to strip, folding your clothing into a neat pile that you set next to him. Once having come down to your bra and underwear, you dove into the water, Jack standing up on his two feet to look for you.

Once your head appeared on the surface, you could see the sigh he let out, a smile spreading across your lips.

“Come on in, the water’s just fine.”

“I don’t know Y/N.”

“Come on Jack.” You spoke softly and seductively, Jack’s eyes instantly filling with lust as he began to strip down to nothing but his boxers, jumping into the water less gracefully. You smiled at him as he swam towards you, his curly hair falling within his face. You brushed it out of the way softly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Follow me.” You spoke softly, swimming out further. He followed you a short distance before the two of you stumbled upon a waterfall. Smiling back at him, you swam through, waiting for him to follow, which he did.

Brushing past the water and vines, you two made it to the cave, light reflecting off the walls.

“Wow…” he spoke almost in a whisper, eyes darting around the area.

“I said the same thing when I first found it. Enchanting isn’t it?” You spoke, pulling yourself up onto a smaller rock. He climbed beside you, plopping down.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Because I trust you. For some reason, even with the very short amount of time we've known each other, I seem to trust you.” He smiled at you faintly.

“Thank you Y/N. For trusting me.”

☽ ☾

The two of you reached the clearing, bodies slightly damp from the water the two of you swam through to leave.

“Don’t you bring a towel or something with you?” He spoke, attempting to fix his damp curls. You laughed, cheeks hurting with humor.

“Usually yes. But when I don’t…” Your voice faded before Jack looked at you, noticing a spark in your eyes. Suddenly purple energy surrounded your body, the water evaporating off your skin. You reached out to Jack, who didn’t hesitate to your touch, as you dried his skin off.

“I practice magic, Jack. I’m a witch.”

☽ ☾

The walk back to town was quiet, neither of you two speaking since your revealing of your powers. Jack had simply thanked you for his drying, however, had said nothing to you since. You began to wonder if you had done the right thing. You thought you could trust Jack, you had a sense you could.

Right?

Suddenly, the two of you were approached, a small crowd forming around you.

“Priest! Priest! Thank god you are here! Why are you with this wretched wi-“ The noise of the crowd turned silent, ringing filling your ears as you looked at the man you thought you trusted.

The man you had taken to your secret cave and clearing.

The man you were beginning to develop feelings for.

Then, you were brought out of your trance by your neighbor shaking your shoulder.

“Y/N. Diana has gone missing.”

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#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow fic #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow fantasy #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you #jack harlow series

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