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#jean: hypothetically
brambletakato · 6 months
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Ok so in an ideal society Des fans would have their Des centered game, but now I’m genuinely curious… What do you want to see in a Des-focused game? Like pretend Level 5 made Des from the Professor Layton franchise have his own spifoff series (either similar or different from the origin), what would you love to see?
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between that spine bowing and getting dropped like ten feet, the land mine, and the concussion, important thing Nathaniel, Jean, and Beatrix are doing after Fourth Pharos is searching Jean's house for painkillers
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cola-vampire · 6 months
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Hypothetical Singing Voices for Layton Characters List!!
Edit: I included alternatives too for some as I couldn't decide. Hence why Flora got a bucket full of voice options.
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Layton: DAGames
Adult Luke: CG5, Kuraiinu
Luke: ??? (I'm so sorry child Luke I got nothing for you...)
Descole/Desmond: Stupidium, Will Wood
Claire: Lollia, Madame Macabre
Flora: AJ Michalka
(Flora has several options in this frfr)
Adult Flora: Olivia Olsen, Mitski, Halsey, Olivia Rodrigo, Penelope Scott, Stephanie Beatriz (based off songs that remind me of Flora)
Clive: Will Stetson, Lemon Demon
Alfendi: Luke Spiller (The Struts), Gerard Way (My Chemical Romance)
Katrielle: Rachie, Or3o, Chi-Chi
Emmy: Chi-Chi, Lenka, Jayn
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whatimdoing-here · 7 months
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When the primary parent is up and down and all around and helping kids do different things and about to fucking lose it and the other one, who's been sitting and watching or playing something, goes "well why didn't you ask for help?"
It's like telling an angry woman to "calm down"
It ain't great
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"Omg I can't stand when people try to use the intersectional feminist argument to include men. Like when they ask if a homeless man can be misogynistic to a rich woman. I'm just worried for the (poor helpless weak females) homeless women AROUND him!!"
So you just suck at intersectional feminism. Okay.
#Jean rambles#The bioessentialism. The genderessentialism. Y'all are so close to getting the point#Like. Sure okay let's look at a homeless encampment that has men and women (and for the sake of argument - no genderqueer people of any kind#On a purely gender basis yeah sure there are risks for misogyny#But what about the racial aspects of the encampment. What about the religious aspects. Hell what about the economic aspects#What about disability - physical or otherwise - aspects. What about age aspects. What about family aspects.#There are SO many goddamn aspects to look at in just this one hypothetical homeless encampment#That can determine and influence how people there interact with each other#Especially given outside influences such as police and civilians#If you only focus on the most cis-centric gender binary perspective of this hypothetical homeless encampment#Then you just suck at intersectional feminism. I'm sorry but you do. You just suck at it#Get better and do better before thinking you can pull a seat up to this table#And yeah. Obviously these different aspects can fall on the women too#A homeless muslim woman is highly likely to experience a tougher time than a homeless white christian man#But then the homeless latino man with a physical disability is highly likely to have a tougher time than a homeless white woman with-#No disability at all#It's not about who is more oppressed or any of that shit#It's looking at all the pieces that make up a whole and seeing the issues that can come from some of those pieces#One of the biggest points of intersectional feminism is to not make the oppression olympics#It's to give a voice and a name to the tool that's being used to beat countless of us into the dirt
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chelseahotel2004 · 3 months
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just made the best dnd character ever.
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jean-heron-viq · 6 months
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Care to share your type in heterosexual partner? 🎤🎤
Ah, um. *cough* okay. I guess I can. Someone who sticks by your side through the tough shit. Someone who you can joke around with and party with and have a good time with. Someone who knows you and pushes you outside your comfort zone. I also guess you could say bears. 🐻 but uh,,, yeah. Is that a good enough answer?
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waybrightgender · 9 months
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is there any way that i can tell moirail that theyre definitely autistic or at least suggest that they look into it without sounding mean
#they walk with their arms straight at their sides they dont understand social cues their special interest is definitely herpetology#(hypothetical or otherwise) they tv talk all the time (although the tv is usually memes) they use scripts for most interactions they get#overwhelmed by loud noises and screw their eyes shut and cover their ears and rock back and forth when they happen#they dont like being touched all that much (which kinda sucks for me since thats my love language but its ok) idk their opinions on#eye contact but ill ask. ive just been taking notes for a while plus their mom is autistic (self diagnosed good for her) and idk if that#plays into anything but theres that#some more surface level things are that they like dragons and are ace and wear the same outfit every day basically or the same type at leas#(collared shirt and a skirt or leggings. or both. i saved them from jeans under a skirt at least) they like dnd and basically all their#friends are nd. ive observed that they drift to the neurodivergent ppl in a group and make fun of the neurotypical ones#so yeah. help. also a mean kid at golf camp called them autistic as an insult so idk how to say it w/o it sounding like that#like they were like “haha a kid called me autistic. isnt that crazy. im so neurotypical” and went on to call some reptile a “crocodilian”#and make everyone at the table watch multiple minute long videos of the same lizard they saw in hawaii#oh oh and ive noticed that they have hyperempathy but low emotional intelligence like they wont notice if im like super depressed but theyll#burst into tears if a lizard is held wrong. or if someone like throws a toy at a wall#and they hate little kids because theyre overwhelming and unpredictable
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oaky-dokey · 1 year
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*through gritted teeth at myself in the mirror* you may have no clothes but you also have no income. one sewing project at a time.
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vvussyboy · 11 months
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Reasons I’m told I’m a man:
- my bed is on the floor
- messy room
- my sheets don’t fit
- how I dress is apparently akin to “man with no respect for his girlfriends desire to date a well-dressed adult business type” lol lmao
- I don’t celebrate my birthday or holidays
- I’m the lizard catcher
- I look like I smell (thanks)
Reasons I’m told I’m a woman:
- nice to animals
- soft spoken
- kind
I hate some of you. Just admit you’re as weird as every gender-obsessed cis person and go.
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quibbs126 · 2 years
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I’ve been looking a bit into the whole bauta mask/costume and honestly, the very idea of it is so fascinating, and the fact that this was actually real is just really cool to me; I would love to see more about it
I feel like we need some media (preferably a video game since I got here from Layton) where there’s a town where nearly everybody is in this outfit, and you can’t tell who’s who and everyone looks like a ghost of some kind, while the whole place just has this eerie atmosphere
If we ever get another Layton game, I would love to have the setting of that game be a place like this, with the cast wondering why everyone wears costumes like this and what this town has to hide, all the while Layton (and perhaps anyone else from the prequels if they’re there) is being constantly reminded of Descole, since the outfits look awfully similar to his (as they seem to be what it’s based on)
I dunno, I just think the bauta is a really cool concept and it should be used more. I mean you can literally have a mysterious town where everybody dresses like they’re in a carnival, why wouldn’t you use it?
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It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.
I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.
I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.
I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)
I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.
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paper-mario-wiki · 9 months
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i love most technology catastrophe hypotheticals (Roko's Basilisk, Gray Goo, etc) because dorks who talk about how science and logic are cold and absolute wet their little jeans in their reddit threads about how we need to work on preventing them from happening because they're an existential threat to humanity, while the people who actually wrote the articles these hypotheticals are from are like "by the way, we definitely don't have anything even close to the technology we would need to create something like this, and even if we did we would have absolutely no incentive to do so in the first place."
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honeybleed · 3 months
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— ★ TRYNA THREEWAY WITH HIS ROOMIE // JEAN KIRSTEIN & CONNIE SPRINGER
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content & warnings: fem!reader, reader is kinda ditzy bimbo x sunshine, modern au, reader, jean and connie are all in their mid twenties, jean and connie are roommates, reader is in an established relationship with jean but connie has a crush on her, porn no plot, smut mdni (breastplay, groping, oral. f & m receiving, piv protected sex — backshots from connie lawl, cum swallowing, degradation — connie n jean both kinda mean calling reader a whore n slut but not overboard, they both compete during it) look at them 😵‍💫
author’s note: fine, i’ll do it myself cos some of yall forgot jean and connie are best friends! also this is just kinda smutty so not my best work 🚶🏽‍♂️ also dis was inspired by a tiktok edit of connie n jean to paper soldier by brent faiyaz but i lost it 😔😔
word count: 2.4k
“Oi, oi, where are you going?” Jean asked, lips swollen and smeared in lipgloss as Connie got up from the couch.
“I’m tapping out for the night bro. I promise you I got better things to do than watch you eat your girl’s face off.” Connie replied in a wry tone.
Saturday nights were always movie nights for Jean and Connie. Well, it was originally Jean, Connie and Sasha but Sasha moved in with her boyfriend.
Ever since you and Jean began to date, they were always cut short since Jean just could not for the life of him keep his hands to himself if you were in the same vicinity as him.
Connie thought you were a good match for Jean.
Jean had a stick up his ass the majority of the time, but when you swooped in the perpetual scowl etched into his features gradually faded away.
And there was no denying you were sexy.
He had pangs of guilt when he bumped into you in the kitchen Sunday mornings, Jean fast asleep and you were at the coffee machine.
It was out of his control, the way his mouth went dry and his cock twitched at your ass and hard nipples peeking through one of Jean’s baggy shirts that draped to your knees, but managed to settle just above the curve of your backside.
It was just difficult not to stare. He settled on trying to be cold and distant but when you said as a passing comment to Jean you thought Connie didn’t like you, he nearly kicked his ass.
“You make my girl upset and I’ll break your jaw.” Jean hissed.
“Jeez, I got it!” Connie grumbled, rolling his eyes as his thumbs whirled over the joysticks of the controller. He knew Jean could do that but he never took him seriously.
“I’m being serious, Con. She was real torn up about it.” Jean said sternly.
Connie was getting sick of Jean. He let out a sigh as he paused the game to turn to face his best friend.
“Hypothetically speaking, why is it such a big deal if I didn’t like her? Huh?”
Jean groaned.
“She’s a little sensitive. But that’s just how I like her alright? How’d you feel if I was being a dick to your girl?” Jean responded, scowling.
Connie pursed his lips together. Jean did have a point.
Back to current events, he eyed you as you were perched on Jean’s thigh.
“You jealous, Connie?~” You teased in a sing-song as you ruffled Jean’s sandy brown tresses.
“He got a pretty girl and don’t know how to act no more.” He chuckled to himself. “Try n keep the noise down.”
“I’d let her fuck you, y’know.” Jean said with a smirk.
Connie’s jaw went slack, disbelieving what he had just heard right now.
“…Huh?”
“Well, yeah.” Jean shrugged. “My baby thinks you’re cute, and I’d let her do anything she wants. Right, honey?” Jean said airily, as he leaned in to bite your neck, causing you to jolt and giggle in his lap.
“Jean..!” You whined, sensitive to the graze of his sharp teeth.
“You’ve gotta be messing with me right now.” Connie said, struggling to keep composure as all his prior fantasies of you hit him like a truck.
“No, Con..”
Why do you say his name like that? Connie internally cried to himself. It wasn’t helping douse the flame of his attraction to you whatsoever.
“I think you’re a cutie pie. I wanna have some fun too, I think you’d both do a good job of spoiling me, huh?” You beamed, your hand on the nape of Jean’s neck as you raked your fingers through the ends of his mullet.
Jean dug the heel of his palm into your clothed core, eliciting a moan from you.
“See how sexy she sounds, Con?” Jean grinned wolfishly as he continued to apply pressure, making you squirm and involuntarily buck your hips into his hand, seeking more. “You wanna make her moan too?”
Connie was in a state of complete and utter disbelief. Regardless, his eyes glazed over as he nodded.
“That’s my guy.” Jean said triumphantly, within an instant, he threw you into the air and caught you bridal style, laughter overtaking your body as you draped your arms around Jean’s neck.
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The dim light of the bedside table in Jean’s bedroom illuminated both of the men’s eyes.
You were just so damn gorgeous, they stood side by side as you looked at them coquettishly through your lashes.
You began to pull down the straps of your romper, sliding it off until it was around your waist.
Connie felt as if he died and gone to heaven when he gaped at your bare chest.
“Which one of you wanna start..?” You questioned, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, thrilled at the idea of both of them about to treat you.
Jean patted Connie’s back.
“Go on. Make my princess moan, hm?” He chuckled, as he began to tug his navy blue shirt over his head and tossed it across the room, revealing his lithe and toned figure.
Connie’s tongue dragged over his lips as he fully took in your appearance.
It wasn’t as if Connie was some inexperienced virgin with no play. It was just an uncanny situation.
Jean and you were so eager to do this, he felt as if there had to be some sort of catch.
“Hi handsome…” You cooed as Connie got on his knees on the carpet of the bedroom, between your legs, you gently smoothed his head and rested your hand on the nape of his neck. “Strip for me?”
He nodded, instantly discarding his shirt and shrugging out of his shorts until he was in his boxers.
“Ah, so there is a bit of muscle here?” You smiled as your palm slid down Connie’s broad chest. You raked your nails across his skin, earning a soft grunt from him.
“Not as good as mine though, huh babe?” Jean chuckled.
“Shut. Up.” Connie said through gritted teeth, then turned his attention back to you.
Testing the waters, Connie settled his hands on the bare skin of your hips, it wasn’t some sort of wet dream. This was reality, so he gripped your flesh, as his brown eyes took you in.
You were gazing at him so fondly, his heart was racing and the tips of his ears went red.
“Just do what comes naturally, okay?” You reassured him as you stroked the back of his neck again.
“…Okay, Y/N.”
Connie fluttered his eyes shut as he began to gently peck upwards along your soft stomach.
You let out a content sigh.
“Con…” You breathed out, revelling in his soft touch. It spurred him on, and Connie felt accomplished that something small already made you so reactive.
Jean grinned as he leaned in, standing next to the bed to press his lips against your neck, his hand wandering down your body to cup your breast, rolling your nipples between his fingers.
“Keep goin’ Con, she’s liking it.” Jean chuckled as you mewled and scrunched your eyes shut.
Connie nodded and latched his mouth onto the other breast, flicking your nipple with the tip of his tongue as his hands still gripped your hips.
He felt more bold now, and he yanked the romper off completely.
“No panties?” Connie chuckled darkly, as he licked his lips at the sight of your pussy, slightly slimy from your arousal from both of their ministrations. “Who knew your girl was so dirty?”
“Why do you think I’m all over her?” Jean responded as he wrapped his large hand around your throat, his thumb and forefinger gripping your jaw. “You’re such a little slut, aren’t you honey?”
You nodded, mind dazed from the pleasure and dirty words.
“Mhm, yes…I’m a slut.” You mustered out.
Connie felt a bit more eased in, his apprehension and frigidness fading away.
He looked up at you with a grin, big brown eyes sparkling with excitement as he spread your legs apart, giving your inner thighs a gentle lick and kissing them.
“Please…” You whimpered.
Jean grinned against your neck.
“Please, what, baby? You want us to keep going?" He took one of your earlobes between his teeth and tugged gently. “Tell us what you want."
“Want you both…make me feel good.” You breathed out shakily.
“You heard her, Jean.” Connie grinned.
Connie was in his element. He loved going down on a girl. He was smiling from ear to ear as he was given a front view of your slick folds.
His breath fanned over your wet heat, and your eyebrows furrowed together in impatience.
“Stop teasin’!” You whined.
“Jean, is she always this impatient?” Connie snorted, amused by how desperate you were.
“It’s cute..” Jean shook his head laughing. “But yeah, my princess is pretty spoilt.”
Connie delved in between your legs, his tongue flicking over your clit eagerly, weaving expertly within the crevices of your wet flesh.
Your moans only spurred him on even more, he latched on and sucked harshly. Connie grinned deviously at the sound of your desperate pleas.
He teased you more before leaning down to lavishly kiss and lick between your thighs.
Jean still palming and kneading your breasts, sliding his large hands along your sides pinching your nipples as he worked to fulfil you.
Connie’s tongue played along your folds, circling your clit a few times, he was overjoyed with the way your body reacted to his every touch and tease.
“Don’t forget about me, baby.” Jean murmured as he tilted your head up to meet your lips hungrily, moving against you as he sucked your lower lip.
Pleasure circulated through your veins as the two men were consumed with satisfying you.
“Con…” You groaned as you felt your high approach you. “S’close.”
Connie grinned and quickened his movements, licking and sucking on your clit, sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body.
"Just let go, princess," He whispered against you, his tongue and lips still working away. "We've got you."
Your voice was hoarse as you sobbed, and your hips bucked violently. Body shuddering as a stream of clear liquid gushed into Connie’s mouth.
“That’s it, there we go…” Jean grinned triumphantly as he felt your body go limp in his arms.
He continued to lick and suck at your sensitive spots, drawing out every last drop of your orgasm.
“Let it all out for me." Connie murmured encouragingly.
“Alright, alright. Get to the back.” Jean chuckled. “How sweet does she taste?”
Connie stood up from his knees, savoring your essence.
“Nothing like it.” He chuckled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
You and Jean shared a look, and you immediately despite being shaky from the intense orgasm, got on all fours on the mattress.
Jean crouched to cup the side of your face as he pecked your lips.
“Eyes on me, baby. Remember who you belong to.”
“I know, Jean…” You mumbled.
“Good girl..” He smiled as he kissed you once more. “You’re doin’ so well. Isn’t she, Con?”
Connie nodded, as he fumbled for a condom and rolled it over his length throbbing.
“The best.”
Connie trailed kisses down your back, stopping at the small of your back causing you to shiver.
Pulling down his boxers, his hardening cock springing free Jean stroked himself a few times.
“You ready for us, angel?” Jean whispered huskily.
“Yes, I want you both.”
“Course you do, you little whore.” Connie cackled as he smacked your ass, biting his lip at the recoil.
Your eyes met Jean’s as you fisted his girthy cock, your thumb rubbing and giving kitten licks to the sensitive skin earning a guttural groan right from his chest.
You almost paused as from behind, you felt Connie teasingly rub his latex-covered length along your slit.
“F-fuck! CONNIE!” You gasped out, pussy still sensitive from his mouth earlier.
“Shit, Con..” Jean chuckled, voice strained as he felt your breath on his slit. “You’re behind and she’s still calling your name.”
“Guess I’m her fave.” Connie smirked as he finally slid into your warm, wet walls.
“Y-you wish.” You mustered out, but you couldn’t deny Connie had surprised you.
You took Jean into your mouth and his fingers tangled in your hair.
“Shit, princess…” Jean heaved out as your tongue swirled around, making his cock slick with your saliva.
Connie began to move, his hips thrusting hard and fast, you were reduced to incoherent babbling.
“You like that, baby?" Connie growled hotly against your ear, wanting to one-up Jean. "You want more?"
“S’much more..!”
“You're so fucking sexy." He panted out between thrusts.
Jean moaned softly as you sucked him off, his fingers tangling violently in your hair.
Connie grunted as he continued to thrust into you, his hands leaving bruises on your hips.
"Fuck, angel," Jean growled through gritted teeth. "You're so damn good at this. That mouth of yours."
Jean’s fingers gripped with each bob of your head. His eyes were dark with desire and he watched you hungrily as Connie fucked you relentlessly.
“Let me finish in that mouth, honey.” Jean stuttered, feeling his high approach him.
"I'm gonna cum. Swallow it, baby. Take it all." Jean’s teeth sinking into his lower lip as he reached his climax, his warm seed spilling into your waiting mouth.
He panted and stroked your cheek gently as he came down from his orgasm, his softening length sliding out of your mouth with a wet pop.
Without hesitation, you swallowed his cum. Jean gave a greasy smile as his thumb slipped past your lips, prying your jaw open.
“All gone, huh?” Jean grinned, admiring your tongue. “Such a dirty girl.”
You screwed your eyes shut as Connie drove deeper inside of you, your walls pulsating around him.
Your fists bunched up the sheets as Connie groaned.
The both of your moans blending simultaneously reached the peak of their pleasure, Connie spilling into the latex.
He gasped as Jean pulled you towards him, the loss of warmth making you whimper as Jean pulled you close onto him.
Your arms draped over Jean’s shoulders as you felt overwhelmed in a good way.
Jean began to kiss your temple and rubbed small circles into your back.
“Feel good, princess…?” Jean smiled as he stroked your cheek. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
You nodded, then turned to Connie with a lazy grin.
“But he was my fave.” You giggled, Jean pinching your hip.
“Hey!”
author’s note: showed connie a bit more love in this since i barely write for his ass & we have enough horse cock in this blog. if u reached this far tysm for reading, reblogs & interactions r always appreciated
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lisired · 1 month
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waiting game
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pairing: best friend’s dad!johnny x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, dilf au, age gap, unprotected sex (dont b silly wrap yo mf willy!), orgasm denial, edging, half the fic is just johnny & mc teasing each other to death, oral (f receiving), fingering around people
summary: Your best friend’s dad is a smoking hot dilf seeking vengeance after you’ve spent the past couple of years teasing him, but it seems that you can’t handle a taste of your own medicine.
word count: 9.1k
a/n: ¼ of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!
Time was something ironic to you. It flew by quickly when you were having fun, yet seemed to drag on when the moments were dull. If you had to give a prime example, it would be now.
This current moment, with you listening impatiently to the vexing sound of your clock ticking while counting down the minutes before you got to see Johnny again. You had a study date with your best friend - his daughter - in over half an hour, and you were beginning to wish that you hadn’t planned your outfit so far in advance. Now you had nothing to distract you from your throbbing heartbeat in the meantime. 
To say the least, every moment with Johnny was nothing short of thrilling, no matter how brief. He had the power to summon a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with a mere smile - unbeknownst to him, of course. As far as you knew, Johnny knew nothing of your silly little crush on him and you wanted to keep it that way. It was fun to imagine what it would be like if he reciprocated your crush, but that’s precisely all it was—your imagination. Hypothetical situations you could only fantasize about. You had to give yourself the tough reminder that he’d never be into his daughter’s best friend. He could never.
Still, you liked Johnny. He was friendly and though he told his dad jokes, he was funny. He was confident. He knew how to cook and he was smart, and you liked that he always knew how to direct conversation. You and Johnny talked sometimes, usually whenever you stayed for dinner, or breakfast. He had never let you feel invisible, or like you were invading a space that wasn’t yours. He welcomed you.
But of course, he was also smoking hot. Smoldering, even. You recalled the first time you laid eyes on him, when you were visiting your best friend and he was in the front yard, mowing the grass. Sweats and a tanktop. Hair stuck to his forehead like a second layer. Drenched in sweat as he battled the summertime heat. Sometimes you still wondered if he caught you gawking, whether it was when you first saw him looking like that or when he told you that he was your best friend’s father and not her brother.
(You were even more surprised to hear that he was in his forties. He could have passed for late-twenties, and you almost scanned his head for a sight of a single grey hair but decided that would have been rude).
Yet as attractive as he was in every sense of the word, there came again the rough reminder that he was equally out-of-bounds. It always slammed roughly against you whenever you daydreamed about him, forcing you to remember that there was a boundary between you both. You could not have Johnny. And even if he were to want you, he couldn’t have you, either. God forbid you thought about how unrequited this was.
None of that ever stopped you from liking him, though. In your heart, there was still an ounce of hope that maybe something could blossom between you, weeding its way through the cracks of the invisible boundary.
What were those cracks? Easy: temptation.
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Like any other day, Johnny looked absolutely mouthwatering. He wore a satin shirt and dark jeans, brown hair parted and his skin gleaming beneath the kitchen light. You desperately wanted to make your move right then, but your best friend crashing into your arms forced you to remember why you couldn’t.
“Gosh, I missed you,” Jessica cheered as she wrapped her arms around you firmly.
“It hasn’t even been three days since you last saw me,” you replied amusedly, nonetheless hugging her back. Jessica wasn’t your best friend for no reason. She was closer to you than anyone else, even your own parents. She knew everything there was to know about you. You knew that you could tell her anything, but this was different. You’d rather take this one to the grave.
She rolled her eyes as she loosened her embrace and let you go, “Whatever. Three days, three weeks, it all feels the same,” she said dramatically, making you both snicker. “But for real, my dad was like, just making dinner. Wanna join us?”
It had smelled delicious all the way from the front door. But that was Johnny for you, with cooking being one of his favorite habits. You would feel bad about eating their food though, so you leaned towards declining.
As if he could hear your reply before you said it, Johnny chimed in from the kitchen, “I made your favorite.”
That shut you up before you could reply. Your mouth hang open then closed, and after a moment of self-debate you opened it again. “Shit, pass me a plate,” you’d have to be running a fever or replaced by a shape-shifting alien to turn down Johnny’s chicken Alfredo.
You rested your backpack for now, ignoring their laughter as you strolled inside the kitchen.
By the time dinner ended, Jessica had to unexpectedly leave, mentioning something about a work emergency that you failed to completely catch. You didn’t mind too much, of course. It gave you the perfect excuse to stay in company of Johnny, and you even offered to help him wash the dishes as a thank you for dinner.
“Thank you for helping me with the dishes. You didn’t have to,” Johnny said, stretching his arm to put one final dish away in the cabinet. His sleeves were rolled up so you eyed his biceps like they were the meal, but forced yourself to look away before he could notice.
“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do after you made such a wonderful meal, sir,” you replied respectfully. In the same breath, it took everything in you not to let your eyes trail down his body. His shirt was unbuttoned, leaving all the good stuff out in the open.
“Don’t flatter me,” Johnny joked. “Do you know how to cook?”
You couldn’t stop your laughter. “Of course not. I’m a safety hazard in the kitchen.”
Johnny snorted, “Why do you say that?”
“Sir, my expertise extends to instant noodles - hardly even that. One time, I burnt them and nearly killed my microwave.”
Johnny’s eyes crinkled. He knew now to keep you at least six feet away from his microwave, maybe even forbid you from touching his stove or oven. He also thought about giving you lessons. “How in god’s name did you do that?”
“I forgot to put water in them!” You explained, tone laced with shame. “Even if I did know how to cook, my skills are no where near yours. You’re like, the cooking connoisseur. I can’t imagine you forgetting to do something as simple as putting water in noodles.”
“It was an honest mistake,” he replied sympathetically. “But I like hearing about it. Tell me more about your failed cooking escapades.”
“God, where do I even begin? Let me tell you how I got banned from contributing to Thanksgiving dinner,” you said, and went on to explain the whole ordeal.
The way Johnny was snickering at you, it was almost like your conversation had the Victorious laugh track - except his giggles were genuine and the frequency of them didn’t irritate you. He had a beautiful laugh, one that made you simper. It went without saying that Johnny found you entertaining. He knew that he could never drink anything as long as he was around you, in fear that you’d have him spitting out his drink at every funny comment you made.
Johnny also let his eyes linger on your frame. Never had he ever seen anyone make skinny jeans look as stunning as you did, and it helped that your body was highlighted. You could feel his gaze burning into you, but chalked it up to your imagination running wild again. There was no way in hell Johnny Suh was checking you out.
Little did you know, that was exactly what Johnny was as doing. He so desperately wanted to fuck you then and there, but resisted. The opportunity would surface some other day, and to be honest he wanted to see where things would go. You weren’t half as subtle as you thought you were but he was going to play dumb until you quit these little games of your own.
“I’m an excellent cleaner, though,” you added once you concluded your story. Your lips curled into a smirk for the most brief moment, yet Johnny still caught it.
He also didn’t fail to catch the flirtatious undertone. “Yeah? Is that how you secured an extra slice of peach Cobbler versus all your hungry cousins?”
“And siblings. And uncles. And don’t forget my aunt’s seventh husband. But yeah, you get it. Favoritism also goes a long way.”
Johnny was amused, to say the least. He was still stuck on the fact that you had practically just offered yourself as a housewife to him, although it wasn’t necessary. He could think of plenty other ways to use you, other ways that you could put in work for him. It was tempting, but he was more determined to make you wait. He wanted to bottle you up until you exploded, and only then would he bother to clean up your mess.
The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway ended your conversation abruptly. He seemed quick to wrap things up once he heard the car door lock. “That’s Jess. Thank you, again, for your help. You two are probably about to study now so have fun, and make sure to tell her I’ll be working in my study!”
So typical of Johnny to drown himself in work. A workaholic if you knew one. You were disappointed by the conversation coming to an end, then aroused by a thought in even less time. You knew that he had to be exhausted and could only think about letting him take his stress out on you, bending you over his desk and fucking you with his entire being.
Shaking the thoughts away, you replied, “I will.” Inevitably would you revisit them (or they would revisit you, rather), but for now you had to focus about studying with your best friend.
You weren’t slick at all, and Johnny wondered if you knew that.
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In the following week, you had been coming over more often. That in itself wasn’t suspicious, but he noticed that your clothes became shorter by the day. Nothing completely out of line, yet he couldn’t help but catch how the inches decreased day after the next. He noticed that you became less shameless in flirting with him. At one point he thought that the only way you could be any more obvious was if you confessed the truth, but then you started lying to him. You made up silly excuses as to why you showed up when Jessica wasn’t there, and he had a different plan.
As always, excitement flowed through your veins when you walked through his door. You were always eager to see him, and even more thrilled to show off today’s outfit - one of your favorite skirts paired with a cute top. To be honest, you didn’t know why you were doing this when you had nothing but your intuition to support you, but something told you to dress nicely today.
It was no shocker that Johnny did too. His sleeves were rolled up yet again, muscles peeking through the fabric, and you could only wonder if you’d ever have the luxury of seeing him completely shirtless. Jessica had mentioned earlier inviting you and another friend to chill in the pool this Saturday, but that didn’t mean her dad would be involved. You could only hope, though you were pulled away from the thought when you heard him call your name.
Cluelessly you blinked, asking dumbly, “Did you say something?”
The presence of a smirk was on Johnny’s face for a sliver of a second. You had caught it, and felt your cheeks warm at the thought that you had been caught staring - much worse spacing out - at him.
He repeated, “I said, what’s it today?” And you flushed some more. You obviously knew that you had been over more recently, that was the entire point. But something about him acknowledging it was thrilling yet frightening.
“You say that like I come over every day.”
“It sure feels like it. You might as well keep a key and put some of your things in the spare room,” Johnny retorted. Your heart sank a little at the thought that maybe you really were overdoing it, and sensing a drop in your mood, he added, “Hey, I’m just messing with you. How may I help you today, princess?”
Princess. He had no clue, you could be such a sucker for pet names. You didn’t even know if it was the pet name itself that had your knees wobbly or how it sounded rollling off his tongue, but you didn’t care. You were losing your mind and hardly covering it up.
You cleared your throat. “I left my notebook here, and I just wanted to pick it up.”
Johnny furrowed his eyebrows. “Jessica said that she dropped it off at your place this morning.”
Well, that backfired. It was true that you had left your notebook, and intentionally, but it wasn’t apart of the plan for Jessica to bring it back to you. Now you could only play dumb and pretend that you hadn’t known about it.
“Oh, um,” you were caught, and damn Johnny’s suffocating gaze for not helping at all. You felt like wilting beneath him while he stared at you like that - cynical and inscrutable.
Instead of giving you time to form a reply, Johnny only walked forward, and you had no where to run but backwards, until your rear hit the wall and you were grounded in place. “You wanna know what I think?” He crooned, hardly containing a laugh at how bewildered you looked. “I think that you haven’t been forgetting anything this whole time. I think that you wore this pretty little skirt, all for me.”
You gasped when his hand landed against your skin, raking up your thigh and underneath your skirt. In that moment, you were thankful that you had worn it. Johnny had complete access to your body, and you liked it. You liked how his gaze rooted you in place, still as though he would have somehow punished you for making any sudden movements. It was clear that you could have moved if you wanted, but even clearer that you liked the feeling of power he had over you. You wanted him to control you, to maybe push him to any surrounding limit to see just how commanding he could be.
“I think that you just want my attention, baby girl. Is that right?” He asked, as though he wasn’t feeling the answer. With his fingers circling your panties, you knew he was only asking for any other reason than confirmation.
You whimpered, “Sir, please.”
“Please, what?” Johnny questioned, playing clueless. He knew what you wanted. He had definitely known much longer than expected, you realized. All those times where you were so obviously flirting with him, he was choosing to play dumb and ignore your antics.
“Please touch me,” you begged.
Johnny smiled softly - condescendingly - but he still wore that fake confused expression on his face, “I am touching you though, aren’t I?”
Fuck, were you already getting tired of this. He knew damn well what you meant by touching you, and this wasn’t it. You wanted more. You wouldn’t care if he manhandled you right now, you just were in desperate need of his contact so then, and only then, would you be satisfied.
You could sound no more desperate as you whined, “Sir, please, I need more.”
He only laughed - dead in your face. “I don’t think that you deserve it.”
“I’ll do anything,” you knew that you sounded pathetic, but you had been waiting far too damn long for him to be teasing you like this. You couldn’t think of one reason why you wouldn’t deserve it, but there was already a mental list brewing of things you were ready to do to convince him. If a blowjob was what it would take, you’d be on your knees in an instant.
The offer tempted Johnny and he would be lying if he said that it hadn’t. But you had been teasing him for years now, and he wanted you to know how it felt when the tables were turned. If you were going to play games with him, then he was determined to beat you, to push you to every edge until you caved in to defeat. Johnny wanted you on your knees begging, and he was determined to have that. What better way to play than to give you nothing at all?
He liked the premise of you can look, but you can’t touch. There was no better way that he could punish you than by giving you a taste of your own medicine. Restraining himself was much more difficult than he had let on, but he knew you had half his patience at most. With the tricks he had up his sleeve, he’d have you caught inside his net in no time.
He tilted his head. “You want this?”
“Need it,” you replied without missing a beat.
Just as quickly, Johnny pulled his hand away from underneath your skirt, and therefore followed the little relief he had permitted you. An instant whimper fell from your lips, but it was clear as day that he didn’t care. His laugh mocked you, teased you, and you couldn’t fathom why he was playing with you like this. You wanted to ask him why he was toying with you, but he would beat you to any words.
“That’s too bad,” he replied, nonchalantly. “I want you to wait for it.”
You whined, “Haven’t I waited long enough?”
You didn’t realize how close he was to you until then. Nevermind how his eyes pierced holes through your skin and made you swallow hard, instantly making you regret saying anything. How you could feel the warmth of his body radiating onto you without him touching you - even if he practically was. How he towered over you and made you feel so much smaller in comparison to him, how he made you feel frozen in place with nothing but a mere glance. It was power. It was prominent in his eyes, whispering, You’ll do anything for me. You couldn’t tell if it was a simple statement or a demand, but it was true.
“Don’t you think that I’ve waited long enough?” His eyes were cold. You wanted to move backwards, but there was no escape. You were trapped beneath his gaze with no where to run. “Don’t be so selfish. You’ve been playing your little games with me for the past couple of years. Don’t you think it’s my turn now?”
It was then that you realized what this was. It was revenge - sweet to him, yet so bitter to you. Karma really was a bitch.
You heard a car pulling into the driveway, and Johnny finally stepped away from you. “See you later,” a day, two days, a week - whatever amount of time defined the wait of later, it was too much. Call it greed. Call it selfish. But you just couldn’t wait. You wanted him. You needed him. Your body was yearning for touch, but you could feel nothing but cool air.
You needed Johnny now, and yet he refused to give himself to you.
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It was finally Saturday, and you were nothing less than thrilled. The days in between now and the last time you’d seen Johnny felt closer to weeks and now that you had an excuse, you were going to be downright insufferable. As if you weren’t going to be insufferable either way. With the way things turned out during your encounter with him, you realized than instead of wallowing in defeat, you needed to play back harder. That meant leveling-up and making it known that you weren’t going down without a fight.
As you hoped, Johnny was also in the backyard. Jess had invited you and her crush Mark over for a pool day, and Johnny insisted on grilling for the three of you. You were ninety-nine percent convinced that you were half the reason, with him simply wanting to get at you - and that he did. He looked more mesmerizing than he usually did, sweat making his skin gleam, and it took you back to the first time that you’d seen him.
You shoved the memory into a dark corner in the back of your brain. Determination filled you to the brim, and you had just the trick up your sleeve to make Johnny lose his mind.
“Ready for the pool?” Jessica asked as you both stepped out onto the patio.
It was difficult to hide your smirk as you replied, “Born ready.” You had been planning this moment out for days, and you refused to let reality not match your expectations.
She rushed to get inside the pool with Mark, but you took your sweet time, waiting for the moment when you could feel Johnny’s eyes on you to drop the towel. It revealed a bright red bikini, and the look on his face when you glanced up to capture his reaction was worth a million bucks. He was looking at you like he wanted you, and that alone was enough to satisfy you.
Don’t burn the food, you mouthed cockily, just before sending him a week and diving into the pool with your two friends.
The rest of the afternoon consisted of mutual stares that lingered far too long, and by the time the day began to fade dull you had been in and out of the pool and Johnny had gone inside. With Mark and Jessica being equally sprung for each other it was easy for your third-wheeling adventure to begin, and you were yearning for more excitement, running out of battery from earlier’s thrilll.
Some time later, you all agreed to end the night here and Mark and Jessica decided to go on a walk before he went home. It being implied that you were going home, you all bid your good farewells to each other and headed out of the pool.
But when they left, there was Johnny standing on the patio, eyeing you as you stood by the edge of the pool. “Heading out?”
“I was,” you replied, but if he intended on staying out here then maybe you’d charge your mind.
“So not anymore,” Johnny smirked as he put the pieces together. “Let me join you.”
You shrugged, as a sign of not caring what he chose to do, in spite of the fact that your heart was racing. You sank back into the water, preferred it over the feeling of freezing air prickling your skin. Johnny’s eyes never left yours as he made move for the pool, but yours left his the moment he tugged his shirt above his head.
Of fucking course, he was ripped.
Feigning nonchalance was becoming difficult - your mouth watered and you could hardly stop your eyes from popping out of their sockets. To make matters worse, he looked even better in the water with his skin golden, water gleaming in the moonlight. The cocky look on his face proved he knew it all too well, and you were struggling now more than ever to restrain yourself.
“Bet you thought you were slick for what you pulled this afternoon.”
You smirked at the memory. Of course, you didn’t. The whole point was to provoke him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” Johnny groaned. It sounded hotter than it should’ve, and now you were ready to clip the conversation and cut to the action. “You walking around trying to provoke me.”
You retaliated, “I wouldn’t have to if you would just fuck me.”
It was clearly the wrong answer, you concluded from the way his eyes seemed to darken. He’d put you in your place right then and there if that wasn’t exactly what you wanted. But it was, and Johnny knew that in spite of your front you were crumbling. It wouldn’t be very long before he had you bowing down at his feet.
He seemed calm, though the look in his eye was anything but. “I told you, you don’t deserve it,” Johnny replied patiently. You were a pain in the ass, but he still enjoyed making you wait. It was so obviously driving you crazy, and the day what little patience you had remaining dissipated, he was going to have so much fun with you.
“How can I earn it?” You asked meekly. It was slowly coming to you that Johnny had a resolve of steel, and it would take more than flaunty outfits to get under his skin. You didn’t know what to do and it was making you want to yank your hair.
“Behave,” he said, like you were a toddler. “And maybe I’ll consider it sooner.”
He was climbing out of the pool before you could even think of a response, and even when you called out his name he never turned around. You wondered what he was getting out of this. You knew that all your teasing played a major role, but it seemed to have the opposite effect of what was intended. Instead of wrapping him around your finger, Johnny walked further away from your spell. A part of you kind of liked it. Another part of you wasn’t sure how to adapt. Most boys came to you in a flock at the sight of skin, a little flirting here and there and they were your pawns. But Johnny was so much more complicated, and for once the instructions were unclear to you. You winded up frustrating yourself further instead in your attempts to frustrate him.
He was a puzzle with a million pieces and you couldn’t figure out how to put him together. A stranger you weren’t to challenges, but he was the toughest competition you’d face and the worst part was that he seemed to have you all figured out.
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You always used to think that people were exaggerating when they expressed their desire for someone else. No feeling could ever be so strong as to tear someone apart that way. Yet now that you were in a position where something so close to you felt so far away, you finally understood. You finally knew what it meant to yearn for someone, and it was killing you slowly.
You craved Johnny. It didn’t matter if you were in the same room because he’d pretend as though everything was normal between you and you couldn’t fathom how he could ignore the tension so easily. Especially when it was all you could feel whenever you were in the same space together.
Next Friday was when things began to stir up. Jessica had invited you and Mark over for dinner and considering their obvious crush on each other, they sat beside each other. That left one seat remaining - the one across Mark, directly beside Johnny.
That’s how you landed yourself in this predicament. Johnny’s long fingers plunging in and out of you from underneath the table. It started with his hand simply resting on your thigh but then he started rubbing circular patterns, until he inched between them and underneath your skirt. You were fighting back noises and expressions, yet in contrast he joined in enthusiastically on the conversation like there was nothing happening beneath the table.
“Johnny, they’re right there,” you whimpered when no one was watching. You were thankful that Mark and Jessica were so invested in one another, it decreased your chances of getting caught sneaking around with Johnny since they hardly paid full attention.
“Guess that means you’ll have to be quiet then,” he whispered without a care in the world. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
You could only give a casual, slight nod. If you spoke, you were at risk of letting out moans and that was the last thing you wanted.
Johnny purred, “Good girl.”
Fuck, that was hot. If it weren’t for your two friends sitting at the table with you, you would have moaned right then. All the titles and names Johnny called you made your skin feel hot and made your desire for him multiply. It felt like a test on your patience and you were failing.
In his attempt to act as though nothing was wrong, Johnny asked to no one in particular, “Any plans for the weekend?”
Jessica didn’t miss a beat. She announced excitedly, “Mark and I are going bowling. He sucks and wants me to teach him.”
“I do not suck!” Mark instantly protested. “I got a strike once!”
“Once, as in one time,” Jessica giggled.
Any other time, you would have leaped at any opportunity to tease Mark, but you couldn’t even focus on the rest of the conversation. Johnny’s fingers felt too good inside you, reaching impossible places with precise angles. You couldn’t lie, he did a magnificent job at pretending he was completely engaged in whatever conversation, but you could tell he had shifted most of his attention to you. Even without looking at you directly, it was almost like he could see your reaction and Johnny was determined to steer you right off of the edge.
Whenever a moan approached you, you bit your lip, hard. Or shoved a forkful of spaghetti into your mouth. Whatever you could do to prevent yourself from moaning. The brief glimpse of a smirk you saw on Johnny’s lips confirmed that he was enjoying this, but you couldn’t be mad. You were enjoying it too - especially considering this was probably the most you would get from him for a while, you could only be satisfied.
You were only snapped out of this trance when you heard your name called, snapping your head up in the direction of Johnny.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Huh?” Oh how familiar this situation had felt.
“I said, do you have any plans for the weekend?” Johnny reiterated, looking at you so normally that even you started to believe he wasn’t fingering you right now.
Oh, did you. If Johnny insisted on not fucking you any time soon, then you were going to have a good ole time with your pal, your vibrator. You couldn’t exactly say that though, and even if you could you wouldn’t dare speak more than three words at once. Not when you were so close. So you opted for simply shaking your head.
“Perfect. With Jessica gone I’ll need someone to help me repaint the walls,” Johnny joked, yet you could see right through what he was saying.
Jessica grumbled, “Dad, no. I told you I’ll help you when I get back.”
You forced your voice up as front as you could, “I don’t mind. It’s not like I’m doing anything anyways and,” you fought the sound back into your throat before you continued, “-and it’s the least I could do after leeching off you guys.”
“You’re not a leech,” your best friend reassured. “But if you really want to help him then suit yourself.”
If only she knew you couldn’t care less about the walls, not when you were focused on a completely different type. You wanted Johnny to paint your walls, simple as that.
Conversation didn’t die, but neither did the feeling between your thighs. They were trembling as you approached your orgasm, and you could feel it creeping up on you. You were about to duck your head to hide the pleasured expressions on your face until you couldn’t feel it anymore.
You nearly whimpered, staring at Johnny with only shock. It wasn’t really surprising considering everything that had happened since that day, but you were disappointed. Johnny kept dropping you off before you got to your destination, and you were sick of his teasing and being unable to do anything about it.
“Sorry, princess,” Johnny murmured, but he didn’t look the part even slightly, with a grin playing on his lips. “I’ll make it all up to you tomorrow.”
You guessed you could wait one more day.
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730 days.
365 days.
2 weeks.
The countdown was done. The stalling and wait was over. The amount of days you had been waiting for this one specifically you had no clue, but none of that would matter to you anymore once you finally tested on your tongue the sweet taste of victory. You were ready.
You could feel nothing but nerves and exhilaration, but you liked it. You liked how you weren’t sure if you were breathing when you rang the doorbell, but you knew that you weren’t the moment Johnny opened the door. If you had a quarter for every time Johnny had left you breathless, you’d be rich. You couldn’t fathom how a man could look so attractive, and it wasn’t like he always put extra effort into it like you sometimes did. It was something raw.
Johnny smiled when he saw you. “You made it.”
“Of course,” you replied. You sounded relaxed, although you were anything but calm. The mere thought of the events bound to happen in the following moments had you overjoyed.
Johnny let you inside and shut the door. You didn’t get far down the hall before he pinned you back against the wall, the way he did the last time you had been in this scenario. But you knew the outcome would be different this time.
His stare was still hard and deep, but his grin never left. “Ready to paint some walls?”
Damn the walls. You weren’t even remotely concerned about anything that wasn’t on Johnny or in between your legs.
You held his gaze and smiled back as you joked, “Isn’t that your job?”
“I see you brought your jokes with you,” Johnny observed. Then his hand scooted underneath your skirt and squished your thigh. “And another pretty skirt.”
Melting into the warmth of his touch was your only option. You were so starved that you weren’t sure if the smallest touch was enough to get your gears in motion, or if your greed for more was insatiable and it would never be enough. Though it was certain that you wanted him, and concluding from the way Johnny was eyeing you like you were his prey, the feeling was mutual.
His hand crawled closer in between your thighs and the whole time you felt as though you were holding your breath. Johnny had a way of effortlessly making you defocus on anything that wasn’t your desire for him. You weren’t concerned about what was right or what was wrong. You weren’t concerned about the consequences. All you cared about was feeling his skin on yours and meeting him inside of the sheets.
“Just for you,” you murmured, somewhere on the verge of breathless. Johnny knew you weren’t lying or saying things just to make the moment. With your history, it was easy to believe you had picked it out especially for his taste.
The skirt was a personal favorite of Johnny’s. He had never stated it outright, but the way his eyes were constantly on you was more than enough confirmation. Of course you would use your speculations to your advantage - the moment had been dragged out enough and by now it was established that you were beyond impatient.
“Yeah?” He cocked his head. “Wanna show me what’s underneath?”
More than anything. You wanted to lift up your skirt right then and there. Instead, you opted for nodding your head, unable to come up with any words let alone a sentence. 
Johnny took no time to toss you up in his arms. He carried you into his bedroom and launched you onto his sheets, eyeing you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you, princess,” he cooed.
For once, you had no smart reply - you just let him move on his own accord. You could feel the tension in the room soaring as he crawled above your body, silent and sly as he slithered between your thighs. Johnny could feel his mouth water as he pushed your skirt up, finally getting a full view of what was underneath. Your panties - pretty, lace, and blue (and drenched.)
He pushed them to the side. “Did you wear these for me, too?”
He honestly didn’t even have to ask. The two of you had been down this road before and it was simply a given that you dressed to impress him particularly. Keeping in mind his favorite color plus how much he fancied your wardrobe on you came naturally when you were this desperate.
You nodded again, then asked, “Do you like them?”
“Love them, baby. You look so pretty in blue,” Johnny murmured. His distracted fingers teased your folds and made your breath hitch. You were already wet, but his touch had you melting into a puddle on the mattress. “You ready?”
There was no hesitance in your voice as you whined, “God, yes.” The moment had already been dragged on too long and though you understood that Johnny would probably want to take his time with you, you needed things to pick up the pace, even if just a little.
“Good, because I wanna taste you.”
Johnny pushed your legs out a little more to give himself the room to roam between them. Then he started with pecks to your inner thigh, gentle and sweet and arousing. As if you weren’t aroused enough already. He admired the way your folds glistened with wetness - he knew that you most likely assumed he was taking his time out of being hell bent on teasing the life out of you, but that was only half of the truth. You were just so pretty that he wanted to savor the moment forever.
His tongue teased back and forth over your slit, almost tentatively as though he was only taste-testing you. When you needily bucked up your hips with a whimper, Johnny decided to quit his games and went in for the kill. He ate you out like there was no tomorrow, slow enough to pay attention to detail yet fast enough so that you weren’t left hanging. You bit your lip when you felt him on your flesh. It didn’t subdue your sounds completely, but enough to where Johnny could tell that they were being muffled.
He drew back, dissatisfied by your lack of volume. “Don’t bite your lip. No one’s hear with us so I wanna hear you.”
You were a little dazed when you nodded, present physically yet mentally beginning to tune out. His lips distracted you, coated with a glossy layer of your slick. Minutes ago it was an image that had only seemed to exist when you closed your eyes, imagining this moment as you had longed for its arrival. Now it had become a reality and you were beyond blissful. You wanted to freeze time and prolong the pleasure for as long as possible.  
The only thing capable of sucking you back out of your mind was the feeling of Johnny’s lips reattaching themselves to your skin. You couldn’t suppress the moan that fell from your mouth then even if you tried, caught off-guard as you were absorbed in your head. You could feel the smug grin dashing upon his lips but it was hard to care when he was practically sucking the life out of you. This was all you had ever wanted and needless to say Johnny didn’t disappoint not one bit. He was everything you imagined he’d be times two.
“F-feels so good,” you stammered. There was nothing to fake even if you wanted to, it genuinely felt good and he was serious competition for anyone that had ever gone down on you before. Your brain felt clouded and your skin felt hot and you liked it. Loved it.
Johnny would have been insufferable with the dirty talk if it wasn’t for the fact that his mouth was currently preoccupied between your thighs. You could already hear the words he’d probably say if he didn’t have a mouthful of pussy, “Yeah? You like that, princess?” Oh, and the never-ending pet names. You were usually fond of them, but he made them seem next level. Maybe it was his voice or some other factor, but you knew that you were attracted to it regardless. 
On his end, Johnny was absolutely wrecked on you. From the way he’s going down on you, with an eagerness that only a starved man could possess (and in a sense, he was one), it’s no secret, either. With how well he managed to hide his desire it got difficult for you to remember that he wanted you as much as you did him, and that was an unsafe amount.
You could feel your orgasm creeping up on you steadily. Your gut was practically screaming it at you, and god you couldn’t wait to cum on his tongue. Every day after the next wasn’t simply edging, but plain orgasm denial. Today was the day the torture was meant to stop.
“Close,” you moaned, as if it weren’t obvious enough, “gonna cum.”
He hummed a muffled, “Yeah?” Johnny knew that you wouldn’t last much longer. Aside from the sensation tearing through your stomach, all the outwardly noticeable clues were the tremble of your thighs and the sounds you made. Though much to your misfortune, the next would be of disappointment instead of delight as he moved away from you yet again.
“Sorry, baby,” he for once sounded decently apologetic. “But I want you to cum when I’m inside you.”
“Fuck me,” you pleaded, although you didn’t have to. Johnny was set on his goal the moment he brought you into his bedroom.
“Trust me, I am. Come here.”
Your movements showed no hesitation as you crawled onto his lap. His lips latched onto your neck and aroused a subtle, soft gasp of surprise from you. You made no attempt to fight his actions though, his hands attacking your skin simultaneously as he tugged at the remaining articles of clothing. As his fingers went for your bra, yours came for his own clothes, unbuttoning his top and slipping it down his shoulders.
Johnny chuckled with amusement at how eager you were. Nevermind himself; he was pinning you back down against the mattress roughly, lips attacking your flesh as his hand slinked beneath your skirt. It wrenched your panties down your thighs and found your clit seconds later, meanwhile his mouth was practically glued to your skin, sucking at your chest, neck, and collarbone. Your neck was most likely covered in hickeys and you knew that, but it felt too good to get concerned over. You figured Johnny would probably have wanted to see them anyways.
The sounds you made each time were cute, but only made Johnny yearn for more. He was going to be an animal the moment he got inside you, wild, untamed, and hunting.
Johnny drew back one final time, knowing what he wanted and that he needed it now. He rummaged throughout the drawers of his dresser swiftly.
You crooked your head to the side. “What are you doing?”
“Finding a condom. Practicing safe sex. Unless, you don’t want me to wear one. I’m clean.”
At that, you were chewing at your bottom lip. Your mind was filled to the brim with dirty scenarios you had thought of before, Johnny cumming inside and making you feel full. You knew the sex would be good either way, but damn it, your imagination had won today.
“I’m on the pill. You can go bareback, if you want,” you murmured, in your attempt to appear as though you hadn’t daydreamed about him fucking you raw.
And of course, he saw right through you. But he only grinned smugly and replied, “Say less. Get on your hands and knees.”
As expected, you took no time to comply. You crawled into position as soon as you heard the command, resting on your palms and knees with your back in an arch. Johnny grabbed a pillow and placed it underneath you, ensuring your comfort first. “You good, baby?”
You nodded. “All good.”
Johnny hummed. He positioned himself behind you not much longer, one hand clutching your waist and the other holding his dick as he then slid inside you. The two of you sighed out immediately in relief - you could feel his grip on you tighten the moment he entered you, and he heard the moan you chirped. There was no doubt that the little waiting game only made this moment better for the both of you, wanting each other in a way that was incomparable to any other feeling you’d ever experienced.
“Fuck, so b-big,” you stammered. You were as aroused as you could have possibly been, but Johnny still had a size you knew would leave you breathless once you saw it through more the print against his pants.
Easing in and out of you, Johnny cooed, “Dick too big for you, baby?” He wouldn’t pick up his pace until he was sure that you were entirely comfortable, and would give you the time to adjust if you needed it. He wanted you to enjoy this as much as he would.
You shook your head. “N-no, I can take it.”
Johnny sported a grin, proud. He whispered, “Good girl.”
He had dreamed of moments like this. Moments where it was just you and him, shutting the world out as you felt each other as closely as you possibly could. Moments where he was pressed deeply inside you, making you moan from every thrust. Moments where he would finally taste a slice of the heaven he had wanted for much longer than he could identify. Johnny had known you wanted him since before a couple of weeks ago. Before that evening in the kitchen, before he confronted you in the hallway, and way before your pool shenanigans. You had always been anything but subtle, and even if you weren’t particularly as bold as you were now, there was always a subconscious ache for him in you that he couldn’t help but sense. You didn’t know it, but you just couldn’t hide your lust.
“Such a good girl. Taking me so well, just like you said you would, princess,” he whispered. That was all it took to make you weak. You were too dazed to tell for sure, but you knew you had probably moaned a little at his praise.
You pushed any other thought back into the spider-y corner in the deep shadows at the back of your brain. Thinking about anything other than Johnny and how he felt between your legs was nearly impossible, and you were relaxed in a way that you hadn’t been in a while. He was just so easy to melt into, someone that made you forget about every other minor and major problem and consequence you’d eventfully have to face.
While he was pounding you from behind, Johnny brought his hand right back underneath your skirt and to your clit. You weren’t surprised that he hadn’t taken it off since he was always unsubtle about his favoritism towards it, and he thought you looked lovely like this.
You whimpered needily, “Johnny.” His fingers were fast at work on you, and in the most positive way possible, you weren’t sure if you could handle it.
“You feel so good, baby girl,” Johnny growled. If anything that only made you want it more, although you already him and he had you.
Sex with Johnny was already better than either of you had ever imagined. There had always been this picture in his head, but now that he could feel you taking every inch of him, he wanted to heighten the feeling and surpass the limits. It was the same for you — your fingers and vibrator could never compare to the feeling of having him inside your walls. He was driving you crazy and you were driving him even crazier.
Even if once was already know risky enough, you were already fantasizing about the next time. You were determined that you could do this “under wraps” thing with him if it meant that you could recreate this feeling again. It was too good to pass up, too good to only have once. There was something so intoxicating about how Johnny felt in you, and how he made you feel generally. Being underneath him alone was somehow one of the most pleasurable things you’d ever felt.
Keeping things under wraps, however, was going to be easier said than done. Not only did it mean keeping this a secret from your best friend, you couldn’t afford to have anyone else find out. But with how the bed creaked, and you were moaning his name loud enough for the neighbors to know what was happening in his bedroom, you were going to need more than a good excuse. You could only hope the walls were thick enough to subdue most of your sounds. The only sounds audible in the room were skin-slapping, moans and grunts, heavy breathing and you swore that you could hear your heartbeat in your brain. You wondered if Johnny could hear it too, or if the banging in your chest was something that only you would be able to pick up on.
The force of Johnny’s thrusts knocked your body forward, enough to cause your face to crash into a pillow. He went at a tolerable pace - not too slow, yet not too fast - and yet, your heartbeat was racing. Maybe it was all the action unfolding around you, or maybe it was simply the exhilaration making your blood feel as though it was zipping throughout your veins. Whatever it was, you knew that you liked it.
There was nothing to not like — Johnny fucked you too good for that. It hadn’t surprised you not even a bit, but Johnny was better than anyone who had ever been between your thighs. He was relentless. The pressure your body felt right then was enough to make you implode.
That was when you could feel it approaching again. It was louder, even more prominent, and you were desperate for Johnny to make you cum. Now that you had finally proved to him that you deserved it, you would snap if he edged you even once more. You were tired of being denied pleasure, and you knew Johnny was tired of denying himself the sweet victory.
“C-cumming, Johnny please,” you begged, plea half-muffled into the pillow. You weren’t above it, not when your orgasm was in arms reach. Johnny had tamed you, and whatever shame or face you had to save was discarded ages ago.
“Fuck, yeah? Hold on,” he muttered.
Johnny changed your positions, moving from behind you to above you, and you underneath him. You glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows, wondering what prompted the change.
As if he could read your mind, he said, “Wanna see your face when you cum, baby girl.”
That made your heart flutter.
It was always painfully obviously when you were far from it. As long as whoever was fucking you was doing a good job, there was never a need to question it, and Johnny was doing a phenomenal one. Never had anyone had you as weak as he did and it was dangerous. You were addicted; and now that you were hooked, it was possible for you to take more of him than was safe.
Yet you couldn’t be bothered. Not now, not when you were so, so close to having it all. You didn’t care what was too much, because it didn’t seem like there was even a such thing as enough. You were on the brink of an orgasm, thighs trembling yet again and your face twisting with pleasure. Johnny hissed at how you were clenching around him, tightening his hold on your hips. He wasn’t at all very much far behind you.
“Johnny,” you cried out.
He leaned low, peppering kisses to your neck. “I got you, baby. Cum for me,” he crooned, almost as breathless as you were.
Moans tumbled from your mouth as you did exactly that, wounding your nails in the bare flesh of his back. Johnny was set off only moments after that, either by your expressions or how you were relentlessly clenching around him, painting your walls with his cum as he groaned sexily into your ear. You couldn’t move, barely even breathe as you rested against your sheets. Your chest rose and fell quickly, but Johnny kissing your skin soothed you; it made everything feel okay.
“How do you feel, princess?” He cooed beside your ear.
You answered through a shallow breath, sporting a grin as you replied, “Full.”
Johnny murmured, satisfied, “Good.” He was showing the utmost appreciation to your body and skin, kissing you and holding you and treating you so gently. It was like being beside him alone made the whole world disappear. He was still inside you, softened up, but he wanted to wallow in this feeling a little longer.
“We’ll do this again, right?” You asked. Maybe it was a little desperate, but you needed to know.
“Of course, baby girl. You thought we did all that waiting just to go one time?”
No, you wanted to say. It wasn’t that you had, but Johnny was unpredictable whenever he wanted to be. You needed a little confirmation, just to be safe.
Instead, you opted for shaking your head. “Will you make me wait again?”
“No,” Johnny shook his head back, “not unless you decide to be a brat again and need to be punished. Think you can be a good girl for me, babe?”
You smiled softly, bobbing your head. The last thing you wanted was to be put through that torture ever again, and if all it took to never experience it again was submitting to Johnny, then it was say less.
You had that out of the way. Johnny was accessible to you, and you to him. There was one small conflict now, you remembered as his phone began to ring, with the caller ID being daughter.
There was still another game that you both had to play; hide and seek.
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mortemtheraven · 1 year
Text
“The Ghost”
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Pairing: Xavier Thorne x Addams! Reader
Summary: Y/n Addams has been keeping secrets to herself lately, emotional ones. When she was asked by a werewolf to a date, a certain artistic outcast found himself burning in jealousy.
Warning(s): Angst, insecurity, jealousy, curses, mention of death (reader's pronouns is she/her)
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"Well, isn't this place cheery?" You looked up at the sound of a slightly familiar voice. It belongs to a guy, the werewolf who you helped find the book he sought in the library yesterday. He has strawberry blond hair, slicked back and soft obsidian eyes.
You were writing in your journal about your usual deep dark thoughts, adding some doodles or sketches here and there to add more vivid gore alongside your choice of words. Other than that, you were hanging out at the back of the school, where the woods of Nevermore extends to a seemingly endless range.
You snapped the black book shut, startling the blonde guy. "Is there a valid reason for me not to leave you here and seek another solitary place?"
"My name's Mason, do you remember? The guy–"
"–who was finding the encyclopedia about Moon Phases, yes." You interrupted him.
Mason smiled in amusement. "Uh, good then. I just wanna ask you if. . . you're free this weekend? I wanted to return the favor of helping me yesterday by treating you out, maybe through a coffee date at Weathervane tomorrow?"
You went dead silent at his bold words, making him anxious whilst you stare at him with emotionless (e/c) eyes. The silence was deafening and he was just standing awkwardly in front of you, stuffing his fidgeting hands into his jean pockets.
After another minute of silence, you spoke. "Alright,"
Mason grinned brightly almost immediately, jumping on the soles of his boots. "Great! I'll see you there tomorrow. Is 9 AM, a good time for you?"
You merely nodded once before walking away and leaving him there alone.
While walking to your next class, you couldn't help but ponder about a certain artist in your mind. Things would be better if he was the one that asked you, not Mason. The werewolf is a nice guy, but you've been into Xavier since you and your twin sister Wednesday were ten years old. The first time you met him, he looked completely different. But his endearing personality and artistic skills made him your friend instead of someone you'd want to murder.
"Y/n! Where are you off to?" Speaking of the devil, Xavier jogged towards you as you passed by the quad.
"My next class." You didn't even stop to look at him, you kept a straight cold face and a quick pace.
"Something wrong?" You mentioned you weren't feeling murderous about him, well now you're taking it back. His constant obliviousness is irritating you to death. "Y/n?"
You suddenly stopped walking and faced him with an unreadable expression. "A boy just asked me out."
Xavier chuckled in disbelief. "Oh, I'm sorry for him."
"Why are you sorry?"
"Well I assumed you turned him down," When you kept silent, Xavier's eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, you said yes?"
You nodded stiffly. "Indeed, I did."
Xavier scoffed. "Why?"
"What do you mean ‘why’?"
"Because you're not that type of girl who would date anyone."
"What do you know about what I want?" You muttered quietly.
Xavier nodded in disbelief, his jaw clenching. "So who's the lucky guy?"
"Mason,"
Xavier groaned, not him. "That stuck-up werewolf? Why?"
"He asked nicely despite being clearly intimidated by my mere presence."
"Y/n, believe me, Mason is a stuck-up jerk. He's probably up to no good."
"You're saying he asked me out with dark intentions? Hypothetically?"
Xavier rolled his eyes. "Yes, hypothetically speaking. But I'm almost a hundred percent sure that this date would end up badly in his hands."
"Who said he's in control?" You smirked coldly. "And if you know me that well, Xavier Thorpe, is that I'm into dark intentions. Whatever Mason's up to, I intend to find out."
You turned around and left him dumbstruck. Well, at least you have something to look forward to in this date. You're going to need a dress.
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Enid squealed, making both you and Wednesday wince unpleasantly. The moment the word "dress" slipped out of your mouth, the colorful roomie of your twin sister was ecstatic.
"I have a lot of ideas! Since you and Wednesday basically have the same taste of color palette, we're gonna go badass goth on you!" Enid immediately went through her wardrobe, finding anything black she could get her hands on. You doubt it though, considering that Enid's taste of colors basically resembles a rainbow.
"I can hardly believe you're going to this date." Wednesday clicked her tongue in distaste while you sat beside her on her bed.
"I'd like to call it an experimental game, besides, I heard that Mason is up to no good. Who doesn't wanna investigate dark intentions?" Wednesday smirked at your similarities, both curious Addams sisters. Except for the facial descriptions since you two are fraternal twins.
"Found it!" Enid held up a mid-thigh length dress, with leather skirt and a fitting top. Then she pulled out a pair of black leggings, matching black leather jacket and black combat boots. Why she owns such clothes, you don't know, but at least you found yourself satisfied with the style.
Minutes later, you were looking at the mirror with your sister and Enid standing beside you. Last minute doubt washed over you, maybe you just stay here in Ophelia Hall and not go on this stupid date. But you look really well-prepared, with your (h/c) hair tied into a fishtail braid.
"You look purr-fect! Totally ready for your first ever date."
"I suppose I should express my gratitude for lending a hand, Enid. So thank you." You said, turning the face the blonde girl.
"Don't mention it. Just have fun!" You just nodded at her.
"If he turns out to be a disappointment, I'm always up for grave-digging." Wednesday said, the edge of your lips turned slightly upward and you hugged her before leaving their dorm.
You went straight to Weathervane and ordered a cappuccino for yourself, sitting on the booth at the corner of the cafe. Turns out Mason is running late.
Your phone suddenly vibrated, so you dug it out from your black purse. It was Ciara, your witch roommate.
"Any particular reason for calling me?" You greeted.
"Y/n! You won't believe what I saw!" You immediately recognized Ciara's gossiping tone.
"If it's about another affair of two students you witnessed again, I will haunt you in your sleep."
"Worse! It's Mason, I saw him with another werewolf chic. And guess what?"
You exhaled and rolled your eyes. "Does it involve eating each other's faces?"
"Yes!" Ciara squeaked.
"Hmm," You sipped on your coffee calmly, feeling a blizzard of rage form inside your chest. "That explains why I'm finishing my cappuccino alone. Thank you for informing me, Ciara."
The line ended as you hit the red button. Mason Lee, you're gonna regret wasting my time.
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Xavier got bored scrolling through his phone in his room, so he decided to go to his shed where he usually paints and keeps his artworks. Up until now, he still couldn't believe Y/n went with that asshole. But why is he so infuriated? Why is he so bothered by the fact that she's going out with someone who's not him?
Passing by the quad, he suddenly stopped his tracks when he saw a familiar pestilent face. It was that ass Mason, making out with another girl that's definitely not Y/n. Xavier couldn't help it, the immediately bubbling anger drove him to lunge at Mason and hit his face multiple times.
Everyone present at the quad gasped in surprise, and Ajax along with some other gorgons hauled Xavier away from the badly bruised Mason.
"What the actual fuck, Thorpe?!" Mason yelled, wiping the blood from his bottom lip.
"Why the fuck are you eating another girl's face here when you should be with Y/n right now?!" Xavier attempted to lunge at him again.
"Chill out, man!" Ajax hissed, pulling Xavier's arms alongside his friends.
"Why do you care if I don't show up?" Mason asked, his tone cocky and challenging.
"Because Y/n doesn't deserve to be stood up by a worthless asshole like you!"
Mason laughed. "Why don't you just admit it, Thorpe? You're head over heels for her, but she can't even look at you that way."
"Say another word and I swear I'm gonna fucking kill you!"
"Oh yeah? She's just a weirdo, Thorpe, just like her twin. They're both freaks, even in this school for outcasts—" Mason's insults were interrupted by a bunch of squawking sounds.
Everyone looked as the painting of ravens from a wall in a hallway near the quad, peeled off and transformed into actual ravens. They immediately flew and swarmed Mason, nipping and clawing at him. Meanwhile, Xavier just stood nearby, his arms now completely free from Ajax.
"Xavier stop!" Ajax yelled, gripping Xavier's raised hand.
"Now what would my sister say?" With that familiar emotionless voice, Xavier snapped out of his raging thoughts and turned to see Wednesday standing with a look of faint amusement in her eyes. The ravens finally stopped tormenting Mason and went back to the wall, becoming only paintings again.
"Wednesday," Xavier said in shock whilst Mason kept groaning on the ground. Ajax and the others pulled him up, carrying him to the infirmary (probably).
"I must say, Thorpe, you got here first to punish that pompous pest before I could even finish digging a hole." Wednesday simply stated before turning her heels and walking away, leaving Xavier breathing heavily in shock for what he just did.
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You found yourself in Xavier's shed, calmly scrolling through his artworks. When you accidentally spotted a sketch of your face, you resorted to look for other drawings of yourself. Surprisingly, you found a lot.
The door suddenly slammed open and it took three seconds before someone asked. "What are you doing here?"
"Just sulking in self-pity and plotting my next move," You stood up from sitting on a stool and walked towards him. You spotted a little scratch on his cheek and raised an eyebrow, finally observing his frantic state. "What happened? You look like you've seen death flash before your eyes."
Xavier sighed in frustration. "Nothing! Just get out of my shed."
You crossed your arms and watched him take out a clean canvas. "Not until you tell me."
Xavier looked up in exasperation. "Fine, I got into a fight."
"With whom?"
It was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "Mason,"
"Why?" You asked, though you have already have your suspicions.
"Because," Xavier turned to face you with a face of anger. "He stood you up for some random girl!"
"And why does that concern you?" he couldn't believe what you're saying.
"Seriously? I was out there defending you—"
You cut him off. "I didn't ask for your help."
"You don't have to! That's what friends do, Y/n! But I suppose you never saw me as that, did you? You're always so persistent to be alone, you couldn't care less for people who actually wants you to be their friend."
You were silent for a bit before nodding and approaching a table full of his art materials. "You're right. And no, I never really saw you as a friend, Xavier."
You heard him scoff, then exhale as if he's so done. Done with you and everything about you.
"I could not. . . not when I want more than that petty title in your life." Xavier's head snapped up as he heard those words come out of your mouth.
"What. . ." Xavier ran a hand across his face in frustration and confusion. "Stop speaking in riddles, Y/n. What do you mean by that?"
You chuckled coldly. "After all these years, you still haven't figured it out. Back since we were ten years old in your godmother's funeral."
Xavier's chest started beating faster, his breath hitching at the suspense. It couldn't be.
"My whole life I've been the Ghost of the Addams Family, though not as literal as I would've preferred. I'm always so. . . not seen. My sister is exceptional at everything, my mother just as same, and I'm–" You sighed.
"I care too much than I should, care too much than I show. Xavier, I have a. . . certain fondness for you." It was the first time Xavier saw your pale (s/c) face blushing. He swore his heart would just rip itself from his chest by the way its beating erratically.
"So no, Xavier Thorpe, I don't exactly see you as a friend. "
Xavier heaved. "Shit, are you serious?"
You felt a lump in your throat. Maybe this was a bad idea. "If it makes you feel better, rejecting me—"
You were completely taken by surprise when you felt his slender hands cup your cheeks and his tender lips on yours. "—is not gonna happen," He murmured against your mouth, his warm breath mixing with yours.
"Ew, what are you doing?" You asked with curiosity in your eyes, pulling slightly away.
Xavier laughed, his eyes sparkling. "I'm kissing you. Haven't you kissed anyone before?"
"What do you think?" You raised your brow.
Xavier grinned widely. "Then I'm happy to be your first."
You tilted your chin up, eyes still cold and proud. "Do it again."
Xavier just shook his head with a chuckle and pecked your maroon lips multiple times.
"By the way," You said, pulling away. "I've seen your paintings of me, never really wanted to pry into your things but curiosity got the best of me."
Xavier turned red, coughing awkwardly. "Oh, um, yeah. . . I like you, Y/n. Way too much that I couldn't get you out of my head so. . . you became my muse."
"Hmm, creepy," You said nonchalantly. "I like that."
"Look, I can stop if you wa—" Xavier's words were cut short by your lips.
"If I find out you're playing with me, Thorpe," You said, breathing heavily with a threat laced on your voice. "I will personally make sure you die an agonizing death."
Xavier grinned and bit your bottom lip. "Wouldn't even dream of it, Addams."
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