#anyway the point is that someone should come lay on me and nibble on my shoulders until i fall asleep | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Text

harmless (v)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, ghosts, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, rats

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: why did i like this chapter sm someone explain. anyway!! y’all are so passionate about these two i love it mwah

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He dislikes the subway.

Other than his other valid reason to have disdain for trains, the subway is dark, it’s shady and he’s sure he’s seen rodents fight to the death here on several occasions.

Still, he’s following you down the stairs of the station, watching as you whistle along to the song blasting through your headphones. There’s a backpack swung over your shoulders, hands stuffed into the pocket of your hoodie and converse doing a skip every now and then. There’s a bandana that’s tied across your face, acting as a mask to hide your identity.

He realises that you’re dressed like a commuter. Were you going to dress the part every single time?

You walk along with the crowd. He follows, a few feet away.

Until you stop. He abruptly stops too, leading someone to walk right into him.

“Watch it, dumbass,” they hiss with the courage of someone who has no idea who he is. He ignores them.

He looks on as you dig around your backpack and pull out a roll of paper. A poster, he realises soon when you peel off a layer from the back and press it to the wall.

Was it legal to put up posters in the subway? He wasn’t quite sure.

He observes as you turn around and continue down the path. He waits a few seconds before trailing up to the poster.

Volunteers needed!

If you’re interested in being turned into a ghost for a couple of hours, this is your chance! Should be okay with being on camera so that we can make money off of taped paranormal sightings.

Paid opportunity. You get to pick your outfit. Randos don’t apply.

He yanks the poster of the wall before continuing down the same place you did.

He finds another poster along the way. He doesn’t hesitate in pulling it down. You were advocating to kill people.

He knows he’s going in the right direction because more posters creep up along the wall.

The both of you are on the platform by now but to him, something changes about the placement of the posters. They were growing in frequency, the distance between them decreasing as they were situated close to each other.

He pauses in front of the next one, hand hovering over the paper.

All it reads is ‘STOP’.

He furrows his eyebrow, pulling it down before peering over at the next one.

‘TAKING’, is all that it says.

It doesn’t take him very long to make his way through all the posters in the hallway.

‘THESE’

‘DOWN’

The train’s arrived by now but a quick scan over the crowd and he knows that you haven’t entered. That, and he knew that you were too dramatic to leave without a trace or a small conversation with him.

‘DICKHEAD’

Tasteful, he thinks.

“It took effort to make them, stop ruining it,” you whine from the end of the hallway. It’s empty, given that rush hour was over a while ago.

Even though the mask covers half your face, it’s obvious that there is mischief etched under it. The twinkle in your eye is telling.

“You’re literally killing people.” He holds up the poster. Not the ‘dickhead’ one. He pockets that for later.

He knows there are a few minutes before the next train arrives and more people flood the station. The eccentricity of today lay in the lighting from the incandescent lamps and acoustics of the platform. It made his voice echo like a movie scene.

“I very much am not,” you huff.

“You’re turning them into ghosts. That’s what a murderer does,” he says pointedly.

“Well, only if you keep saying it like that. You’re making me look bad.” You cross your arms across your chest. “What are you, Fox News?”

A scurry next to him earns his attention. Two rats nibble at a piece of fallen food. He wonders when they’ll starting brawling.

“Explain this.” He waves the poster around. He isn’t taking it too lightly he hopes. If it’s actual murder then it’s going to be an issue.

You pull out a black cylinder, slightly bigger than a pen. He can’t really see any more details, but you hold onto it like a wand.

“I’m turning them into ghosts. I’ll post videos of them doing stupid shit. I get famous and then boom, cash money.” You rub your index finger and thumb together. “I’ll give you a share if you volunteer.”

“You’re not explaining the death part.”

He can feel it. You’re about to start derailing.

“Winter Soldier, the ghost story. Literally.” You grin, yanking down the mask from your face to prove it. It pools around your neck. “That’s so funny, c’mon, it’d be amazing.”

It’s been years since he’s heard that. Never in this context.

“No,” he says sternly, “and I’m going to have to bring you in if you’re going to kill people.”

The rats were ignoring everything that was going down like the hardened criminals that they were. They had probably seen worse. He can’t stop paying attention to them.

“I’m not killing them, bro.” You raise your hands in exclamation. “I’m just moving some molecules around, some frequency shit. They’re alive, just ghosts.”

He’s always been one for science. Straight As throughout high school, attended science conventions as a hobby, alive even at 100 through some mad experimentation, definitely seen some weird shit during his lifetime.

But this doesn’t make sense.

“No,” he repeats. “Give me the thing.”

“Fine, I’ll show you.” You roll your eyes. “Since you have absolutely no faith in me.”

He does a quick review of his surroundings.

No one’s around, which is good.

But that just leaves him in front of you, which is bad.

“Don’t you even thin-” he starts, muscles tensing as he shifts into a defensive stance.

You whip out the little pen thing from beside you but before he can react you turn around and duck.

The click of a button releases a bright light, small but intensely stronger than the fluorescents in the station.

He reels back, feet carrying him away from where you’re crouched. His eyes quickly look down at his body.

Nothing’s changed.

He lifts his hand to check, runs it over his face. Still alive. He thinks.

“Behold,” you declare, “Ghost rat.”

He looks to where you’re pointing. The two rats from earlier were still nibbling on their food but something was off about them.

He could see the faint outline of the tiles on the wall behind them, almost like they were... translucent.

You aimed at the rats, not him. He doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed at the fake threat.

He watches as they move. They don’t look hurt or injured.

“Cool, huh?” you say smugly.

He can’t stop staring at them.

“Bring them back.”

“They’re fine, look how abstract it is.”

“Bring back the rats.” He can’t believe this is what his life has come to.

Bucky Barnes, Rodent Protector.

You aren’t fazed by his indifference, instead wonder filled eyes gaze at the animals. “Astral mice, sarge. Embrace the miracle of modern science.”

“You killed them.”

“They’re alive, they’re just ghosts.” You raise a finger to point. “Look, they’re still eating. Biological functions are still taking place.”

Which was true. But still. He doesn’t know what is going on.

“Bring them back to... non-ghost alive.”

“You sure you don’t want one? That one kinda looks like you.” One hardened glare after you realise the answer. “Jeez, alright then.”

You dig through your bag before pulling out a matte black replica of your current invention.

“Sexy colours, right?” You hold them up. “I modelled them after your arm.”

He looks down. Sure enough the gold and black matched his cybernetic limb. It was oddly flattering.

“Say thank you, Y/N, for letting me be your muse-”

“Un-ghost the rats.”

“Ungrateful,” you narrow your eyes at him.

Still, you comply with his demands, ducking down to their level again.

A click of the button, a bright light and the rats are back to normal. Non-transparent normal.

“Okay, give me that.” He takes a step towards you.

“Nuh uh.” You pull your arm back. His mouth twitches at your response; what are you, five?

The black one is stuffed back into your bag but you wave around the gold like a threat.

He sighs, making a pass for it. In a second his arm is twisted and shoved against his back, forcing him to spin so that he’s facing away from you. His eyes widen.

What the fuck?

“Now we’re having a good time,” you whisper into this ear.

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist to rotate his own out of your grip.

“Since when can you fight?” he asks.

“Are we getting to know each other now?” You raise your leg to give him a semi gentle kick in the side, using his momentary distraction in blocking it to give him a knock on the head with your free hand. “This is so romantic, sarge.”

There’s a low rumble in the distance and he knows the train would soon start pulling into the station. It was still a distance away, but his heightened senses warned him that it wouldn’t take much time.

He groans. How much longer would he have to go at this?

He could easily win this fight and he knew it. But something in him itched, pulled him back from doing it.

He blocks another attempt at his head. “Stop that.”

You grin. “You know what’d be fun?”

He knows you’d reply even if he didn’t encourage it. The lights from the train light up the tunnel around the corner.

“This.” You don’t give him a second to recover before you flick your wrist away from him.

The device flies out of your hand and right onto the track. The both of you watch, you in glee, he in horror, as the train runs right over it, unleashing the brightest light he had ever seen. His eyes shut instinctively before it blinds him.

He forces himself to pry open his eyelids, look at the damage caused.

The train, sure enough, is translucent. He can see the posters on the other side of the platform through the carriage, through various people holding onto the poles for support or seated on the seats.

“Ghost train!” you cheer. He’s mortified.

“Fuck no,” he mumbles, yanking the backpack off your shoulder. He rummages through it, looking for the gold version.

“You lookin’ for this?” you ask nonchalantly, holding it up in your hand like it isn’t the solution to stopping a bunch of ghosts from wandering around New York.

“Turn them back.” He gives you a chance.

“Do it yourself, coward.” You grin, holding it above your head. The train is going to stop and he needs everyone to be alive and non-ghost before they leave.

He doesn’t wait this time, instead turning to you. The thing is still held in your grip above your head. He rolls his eyes, doing a quick assessment before grabbing your free hand, tugging you closer and plucking the device out of your hand before you have the opportunity to retract it.

“Great, now figure out which button to press.” You’re dangerously close to him. He can feel your hoodie brush against his tactical jacket. “Also if you wanted to be all pressed up against me, you could have just asked.”

He furrows his eyebrows, letting go of you as you give a loud laugh. He looks down at the device. It has several buttons, littering up and down the side. Each look the same.

The train’s slowing down.

“They’re both the same device; this version is not a magical solution to the other one. If you press the wrong button then both of us are going to be fucked.”

The last carriage is getting closer.

“Say I win this round and I’ll fix it.”

There’s a gleam in your eye. He knew this was exactly what you wanted.

He wishes he was as stubborn as Steve, just run through each button until the right one worked.

“You win this one.” He hands it back. He wasn’t like Steve and judging by the number of items the idiot jumped out of planes without a parachute on a daily basis, Bucky was glad about it. At least Bucky did it sporadically.

“Yay, two each for the both of us, then,” you say, taking it from him and twisting, eyes running down the sides. “Close your eyes, old man, or else your cataract’s gonna get worse.”

Right as the train pulls to a stop, you press down on the button before throwing it and the blinding light that emanates from it. It lands on the top of the train right as the doors open.

The passengers start stepping out. Some of them are looking at their hands and legs in a little disbelief, most just push through the crowd to leave.

He can’t see through them. It’s a good sign.

He turns to look at you but you’re not there. Instead, the weight of the small device weighs down in his pocket.

The sound of a thud on glass draws his attention.

He looks up at the train. The window of the carriage in front of him has a bit of fog on it. You trace a heart in the condensation and blow him a kiss before pulling your mask back on.

The train starts moving, leaving him alone in the platform again with your invention.

He lets out an exhale, wandering outside to grab a sandwich before waiting to catch the next train to go home.

Later in the evening, he catches hold of a bit of tape and the ‘Dickhead’ poster finds a place on Sam’s door.

He doesn’t appreciate it.

So now it’s tucked away in the shelf of Bucky’s bedside table along with a freeze ray, a ghost-inator, and some discount Pym Particles.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

949 notes · View notes

classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years ago

Text

Meeting and Dating Kenickie Murdoch

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You never really cared about social classes or what people chose to wear. In theory, you didn’t mind greasers; you’d actually been quite fond of them at your old school. You just didn’t like the greasers at Rydell.

- Your family moved houses during your senior year and since Rydell was much closer than the school you’d been going to for the past three years, your parents chose to enroll you there instead.

- Fast forward to your first day at school. Coincidentally, you ended up on the same bus as Patty Simcox, who enthusiastically took it upon herself to become your tour guide.

- The minute you stepped foot into the schools parking lot, her eyes zeroed in on a group of boys who were stood near the front of the school. You glanced over and asked if something was wrong. Her response was to warn you about “the T-Birds” and the other greaser/delinquent groups in the school.

- You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and assured her you would, mainly to change the subject. You hadn’t really intended to avoid the kids, well, up until you got your first real look at them.

- Greasers started trouble at your old school, but it was always with people who either deserved it or were willing to fight back. This; you watched as the group of boys teased “Eugene”, wasn’t the same. You shook your head and made your way to your first period class, realizing that it was probably good to stay away from these delinquents.

- But alas, that would prove to be quite difficult. Kenickie was in; at least, one of your classes; he could have been in more considering you were sure he cut half of them that day. And he seemed to take a liking to you the moment he walked in; late, to class.

- You could feel him burning holes into the side of your head and when you finally glanced towards him, he gave you a small crooked grin. You rolled your eyes and turned away, intent on ignoring him for the rest of the period. He didn’t like that.

- Throughout the period, which was filled with first day “fun” activities, he became increasingly bothersome with his attempts to garner your attention. Tapping his fingers, tapping his foot, dropping a textbook “on accident”, making loud jokes. You accidentally chuckled at one of them and were immediately met with a grin and wink once you snuck a glance at him.

- The bell chimed and you picked up your things, making your way out of class quickly, hoping to leave him in the dust. You had no such luck as he seemed to be hot on your tail, matching your pace as he uttered his first words to you.

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“Maybe you haven’t looked hard enough.”

“Believe me, I’d remember a face like yours.”

“Well maybe you should try and forget it.” You told him just as you entered your next class, leaving him standing in the doorway; a determined look plastered across his face. This wouldn’t be the end of it.

- For the next few months, Kenickie would do everything he could to get you to acknowledge him. Teasing, flirting, complimenting, peacocking, playing it cool; you name it.

- Going to hang out somewhere? He always just happens to be there, catching your eye as he enters the room. If you go to walk past him, he’ll block you with his legs, making you stop and speak to him; if only to say an exasperated excuse me, as you wait.

- Waiting outside for someone? Well so is he. Hey, it isn’t his fault that you’re stood in a popular place that his friends always meet at …but while you’re here, why doesn’t he buy you a coke or something?

- It’s not that you hated him. Sure, he annoyed you and could be a real jerk when he wanted to be but you didn’t hate him. A part of you even liked him and his attention, but you also knew that it probably wasn’t in your best interest to be interested in him.

- Ever since you came to the school, all you ever heard about was how him and his friends did this or how him and his friends did that. Watch out for Kenickie. Oh can you guess who Kenickie parked with last night. Some of it seemed exciting and he was certainly handsome, but he was also trouble and that was the last thing you needed, wasn’t it?

- Unfortunately for you, Kenickie wasn’t keen on giving up and your resolve was beginning to break. His flirtation took a less obnoxious turn, it even started sounding sweet and soon enough you had to admit that he’d wormed his way into your heart.

- It was after school one day, you were sat in the nearly empty courtyard, reading a book and enjoying the sun. After a while, you heard boots scraping slightly on the concrete behind you, the noise getting closer and closer until you heard your name. You immediately knew who it was.

“Kenickie?” You asked, turning to look at him.

- He locked eyes with you for a moment, looking as though he really wanted to say something before he glanced up. His eyes scanned over the five people who were sat in the courtyard around you, his teeth nibbling anxiously at his bottom lip.

“C’mon, I gotta talk to you.” He said, taking you by the arm and pulling you out of your seat, dragging you behind him as he walked to a totally deserted area behind the school.

- The two of you stopped short and you watched him as he turned towards you. He was acting …strangely. Was he sick? Was he on something? You were about to say something when he finally spoke.

“Y/n? You know how I’m always messin with ya?” He tugged at his collar, his eyes darting around, moving from the ground to your face and back to the ground again. “And how I- How I’ve, well, you know. How I’ve been messin with ya.

- Listening to him ramble, it took you a minute but you finally realized what was going on. The Kenickie Murdoch …was nervous.

- The thought flattered you more than anything. The tough greaser of your school was getting genuinely flustered and it was because of you.

- His eyes landed on you for a long moment, his words coming to a stop as he seemed to mull over what he should say. Finally, he looked to his feet and spoke, his voice so low that you almost didn’t hear what he said.

“Well, I like you and I wanted to know if you, maybe, liked me too.” He gazed into your eyes once he’d finished, an uncharacteristic vulnerability lingering inside his baby blues.

- You felt yourself begin to smile, butterflies fluttering inside your stomach as you tried to think of how to respond. Simple seemed like the way to go.

“Yeah,” You said softly, smiling up at him. “Yeah, I like you.”

- A big grin spread across his face, his nerves leaving him in an excited chuckle as he gripped your bicep and gave it a gentle push. Biting his lip as he smiled, his hand moved at his side as though he were banging it against something, before realizing he probably looked like a big goof.

“Great,” He cleared his throat. “Good. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

- Your first date was at the drive-in theater. You don’t know how hard it was for him to not make a move on you. If you ever noticed him suddenly stiffen, it was because he was willing himself not to reach down and touch your boob or lunge across his center console and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. You’re a lady, he can’t do that! Bad Kenickie! Bad!

- Knowing his reputation, you chose to make him wait a little and anticipate your first kiss. So the two of you kissed for the first time on your fourth date. But believe me, he tried to smooch you before then.

- The two of you had gone to Frosty’s palace for a shake and after you were finished, he drove the two of you to “makeout point”. He tried to act innocent when you gave him a look but he wasn’t fooling anyone. You rolled your eyes as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, uttering out a “come on” and smiling as he dove to connect your lips.

- Well, now that you have him, you won’t be able to get rid of him anytime soon. Not that you want to.

- Pda? All the time baby. You’re his girl and he’s gotta show it …just no goo goo ga ga stuff. He’s got a tough greaser reputation to keep up, ya know?

- His arm is wrapped around your shoulders 90% of the time.

- He likes gripping your chin and tilting you into a kiss. That lovey dovey look in your eyes as your gazing up at him gets him every time.

- Sitting between his legs and leaning back against his chest. He’s a serial lounger so it’s either that or he’ll just drape himself across you.

- He uses a lot of nicknames with you. Most of them are used in a sarcastic tone, unless they’re generic or the two of you are alone.

- Playful threats, sarcasm, and snide remarks.

- He will nap on you, laying his head in your lap and crossing his arms over his chest. Hope you don't mind the grease too much.

- He’ll deny it until his very last breath, but he’s a snuggler and is definitely the one to initiate cuddles 90% of the time. He complains and practically pouts whenever you pull away from him.

- The two of you usually cuddle facing each other, your arms wrapped snug around each other and your legs tangled together. He can’t help but smile whenever you sleepily tell him he smells good; which he always does.

- He insists on walking you to class, not caring about when he manages to get to his own. He’s late everyday anyway.

- Sneaking out to go see him. There’s always a smile on his face as he watches you make your way outside, though he’ll; weakly, scold you if you do anything dangerous. You just tell him that he could always stop coming to see you. He never takes you up on that offer.

- Late night drives.

- Parking in dark areas.

- Desperate makeouts. He always trails after your lips every time you pull away, moaning your name like the two of you were doing a whole lot more than kissing.

- One word: insatiable. His hormones are racing. Testosterone is pumping through his body. His pelvis is leading the way wherever he goes. He can force himself to wait until you want to do something but boy is it hard when you look so good.

- The more heated things get, the sloppier his kisses become; though you’re usually too far gone to really care.

- “Sneaky butt grabs” and blatant grinding against you.

- He definitely air humps your backside and makes grabbing hands at your butt/chest when you aren’t facing him, pretending like he wasn't doing anything when you turn to look at him.

- Hickeys.

- Soft pushes when he makes wisecracks. He’ll knock shoulders with you and smirk or waggle his eyebrows, until you smile and roll your eyes.

- Anytime he does something; especially something big, he’ll ask what you think or look towards you for your reaction. He seeks your praise. Your opinion means a lot to him, even if he doesn’t outright say it.

- He probably got your name tattooed on him at some point. I wouldn't put it past the sucker.

- Not so deep down, he’s a softie and a pushover; especially for you. Try not to give him too much lip when he gets all goo goo eyed with you.

- As suave as he may seem. He hasn’t made it with all that many girls; at least not all the way. Sometimes, you’re gonna be genuinely shocked with some of the confessions that he makes to you because they all just make him seem so much more …cute.

- Momma’s boy. You think it’s sweet when you go over to his house and she dotes on him, usually prompting him to give an embarrassed “ma” with a mouthful of sandwich and/or reddening cheeks.

- He doesn't have a whole lot of spending money so; generally, the two of you go on fairly cheap dates, and usually go Dutch when buying things.

- Sock hops.

- Sharing and stealing food. If you can’t finish something and ask if he wants it, be prepared for him to grab it before you can even finish your sentence.

- He’s always got a beer for you if you’re into that sorta thing. He was probably the person to give you your first, amongst other firsts....

- Double; and more, dates with the couples in his gang.

- Your boyfriend is also Danny Zuko's boyfriend so expect to see the greaser a lot. He’s pretty fond of you and much sweeter than you anticipated.

- You’re only allowed to wear the jacket when it’s late at night and he catches you shivering; or when you’re completely alone. He won’t let any of the other guys see you wearing it, they can’t know that he’s gone soft.

- He’s not the best at comforting you but he’s pretty good at cheering you up and distracting you from what’s bothering you.

- Dangerous displays and daredevil antics. Whether he does them to impress or spook you is still up for debate.

- Harmless pranks, usually when you’re alone because he’d have to kick someone’s ass if they laughed you. He’s the only one allowed to tease you.

- He likes looking through your things. Your purse, your shelves, your locker; he’s a curious boy and his questions must be answered through scientific observation. He’s also looking for your compact mirror half the time so maybe just take your bag back and get it for him.

- Sometimes, a womans gotta stand her ground and you’ll have to every now and again to make sure he doesn't walk all over you. He loves you but he can also be a jerk so give him a little hell when he’s giving you trouble. He learns that you aren’t to be toyed with or disrespected pretty quickly, and to be honest, you putting him in his place kinda turns him on.

- You once went to see a movie with him and offhandedly mentioned that one of the actors was handsome. He spent the whole night criticizing the movie and glancing at you when the actor was on screen to see your reaction. He was also extra handsy and kept trying to make a move, which prompted you to shrug him off. He was genuinely offended that you’d rather watch the guy then fool around with him.

- He can; obviously, be quite the jealous man. The only problem is that when he’s jealous, he usually tries to make you jealous too; especially if you’re fighting. It usually culminates in him failing to keep himself under control, finally just snapping and trying to beat the other guy bloody which is pretty much how all of his bouts of jealousy turn out.

- He’s protective as all hell in all meanings of the word. He doesn’t want you getting hurt feelings, a hurt body, sick; nothing. He always jumps to your defense, immediately telling people to shut up if they even try to insult or hint at something unsatisfactory about you. Believe me, anybody who messes with you is cruisin’ for a bruisin’.

- The two of you probably argue quite a bit but you don’t always have full blown fights. He’s usually a pretty blunt and sarcastic boy and doesn’t mince his words very often; especially when he’s angry, so things can get pretty heated whenever you do have a fight.

- If you storm out on him, he’ll follow, even if he knows you’re about ready to kill him. He’ll take all the abuse you want to throw at him but you’re going to settle and square it right then and there, dammit!

- If you don’t wind up resolving things immediately after, then he’ll linger where he knows you’ll pass, hoping you’ll come up to him and forget everything that happened. He’s shy when apologizing but he does give you one when he’s in the wrong.

- He shyly mumbles out a “love you” after you say it, especially when it’s in front of the guys. He’ll knock their blocks off if they even so much as smile at his expense.

- He proposes to you straight out of highschool. Some may call him crazy but he knows that you’re the one and he’s ready to spend the rest of his life with you.

#grease imagine #grease headcanons #grease x reader #grease headcanon #70s movie imagines #70s movie headcanons #70s movie headcanon #70s movie imagine #kenickie imagine #kenickie x reader #kenickie headcanons #kenickie headcanon #kenickie murdoch imagine #kenickie murdoch headcanon #kenickie murdoch headcanons #kenickie murdoch x reader

1K notes · View notes

cal-puddies · 4 years ago

Text

Run Your Hands Through My Hair // Calum Hood

I made a joke about writing this. But there was enough requests that I finally did. Of course @kindahoping4forever was a champ in helping me with some of these ideas. <3

Warnings: Scenes including unprotected sex, female oral sex, slight bondage but mostly just sex.

Word Count: 5389

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist

Let us know what you think!

Cal groans from the hallway.

You wrap the blanket from the bed around your naked body, annoyed that your boyfriend got up to groan and make too much noise in the hall.

“Bubba.” You say, standing in the hallway to look at him, “what’s up?” He's clad in only gray sweatpants, slung too low (or perfectly low for your preference, but no one else needed to see him that way), on his hips.

“The curls are too much.” He groans.

“Excuse me?” You ask.

He turns and looks at you, recognizing your tone. “What?”

“The curls? On the top of your head?” You clarify.

“Yes baby, it’s a lot, want you to shave my head.” He says, running his fingers through the thick curls trying to prove his point.

“No.” You say, swiftly turning back into the bedroom. You get back in bed and pull the blanket over your head.

“What do you mean, no?” He follows you in the bedroom, and sits on the edge of the bed, resting his hand on your side.

You pull the blanket down, “I won’t do it.”

“Yeah I heard you, but why not?” He lays against you and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Baby… if you wanna shave your head, you’re gonna have to call someone else that doesn’t like to yank on your hair when you’re eating their pussy. How about that? Or someone who doesn’t think our sex has been more bomb with your hair grown out.”

“What? How is our sex more ‘bomb’ when my hair is longer?”

You scoot away from him so you can turn and face him. “You probably don’t notice the way your hips drive harder when I pull your hair, or that you moan louder when we fuck, or you man handle me more. But I notice and enjoy all of those things. So if you shave your head, then we both lose.”

“I… don’t think that’s true.” Cal challenges.

“And how do you propose we test this theory?” You cock your eyebrow at him.

Cal smirks and pulls you to him, and under him, “I’m sure I can come up with a couple ideas to restrain you so we can test it.”

“And what if I’m right?”

“If you’re right, and the sex is more ‘bomb’ as you said,” he stops to press his lips to yours briefly, “then I’ll reward you with more bomb sex, and I’ll just get it trimmed.” He pecks your lips again, “but if I’m right and the sex is the same bombness, then you still get bomb sex and you’re shaving my head.” He pecks your lips again.

“When shall we commence?”

“You gotta eat first. I’ll make ya breakfast.” He kisses your cheek and rolls off of you, he grabs his tshirt from the day before and tosses it to you before adjusting his sweatpants higher on his hips.

He walks out of the room leaving you in bed alone. You have half a mind to go back to sleep and he can wake you when whatever he cooks is ready, but you eventually give in, throwing his shirt on and heading for the kitchen.

“I’ve decided on a two tiered approach.” He informs you as you pour coffee. He sets some already crispy bacon near you, “after breakfast, we’ll try the experiment, and after lunch, we’ll try with your hands untied.”

“If you wanted to fuck all day, why didn’t you just say so?” You smirk, grabbing a piece of bacon.

“Well, it wasn’t my original plan for the day, but I can work with what you need.” He explains, taking his eyes off the pancakes long enough to pull you in for a hug and a kiss.

“Is this all you’re making?” You ask, looking at the bacon and pancakes.

“Is there something more you’d like?”

“I mean… if we’re fucking, might need some protein.” You shrug, kissing his jaw.

“Oh I can give you protein.” He grabs your ass and his lips find yours.

You both smirk, “yeah, I was thinking like food protein, not a protein shot from your cock.” You wink, pulling away to get eggs.

“You might get one of those anyway.” He makes room for you at the stove, and nods when you hold the egg up, “2 please, the normal way.”

You nod and set to work making eggs, while he focuses on the pancakes and bacon. “I mean you’d probably deserve a blowie with how many times you’re gonna have to eat my pussy.” You shrug.

He wraps his arms around you from behind, “no no no baby, I want to eat your pussy as much as possible. There’s no room for ‘have to.’” He presses soft kisses to the back of your neck and you shiver. He gently bites the skin before moving away so you can make the eggs and he can finish the pancakes.

He stacks plates for the two of you under the plate with the pancakes and bacon and grabs both coffee mugs while you grab the syrup, forks and pan with the eggs. Cal’s already got plates made up so he grabs the pan from you and serves eggs.

You eat quietly, enjoying each other’s company. When you're done you take it upon yourself to climb into Cal’s lap, straddling him, you tuck your face into his neck. “You ok?” He murmurs against your ear.

“Just wanted to be close to you.”

“You’re gonna spend all day close to me.” He says quietly, moving the hair off your neck so he can kiss behind your ear.

“Not like this though.” You murmur, lips tickling his neck.

“Should I reschedule the experimental fucking? Is this what you need today?” He wonders.

“Mmm… just want you, however I can have you.” You pull back from him, sliding your hips forward as you lean back against the table. You rest your hands on his bare chest, and his fingers tease under the hem of the shirt on your body,

Cal leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You hold his face and deepen it, swiping your tongue across his lip so he’ll open up. He keeps it short between the two of you, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “You can have me however you want. You just say so.” He reminds you.

“I know… but right now, I’m more curious on how you’ll have me.” You smirk. “For the sake of science, I need to know what the plan is so we can make sure we’re recreating correctly.” You gently run your fingers through his hair.

“Gotta eat…” he murmurs, “and figured we’d do something chest to chest.” He preens a bit as you run your nails against his scalp.

“Sounds logical,” you respond quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before draping yourself over him again.

Cal takes the opportunity to hold you, you don’t spend a lot of time like this, he wants to take advantage of your willingness to sit still with him.

Cal doesn’t rush you, he lets you sit with him like that.

And then you’re doing the dishes together, flirty banter continues. He grabs a couple bottles of water from the fridge and then your hand. “C’mon beautiful… we’ve got work to do.” He mumbles, pressing his lips to your cheek and then pulling you toward the bedroom. You sit on the bed and watch as he goes to the closet and pulls out the toy box, you watch curiously, because toys weren’t part of the plan.

He pulls out the silk ties you vaguely remember buying together. “Shit, I forgot about those.” You chuckle. He hands them to you so he can put the box back.

“I only thought of them during breakfast. I was gonna do the belt but that hurts too much after one round and I can’t have you walking around with bruised wrists again.” He grins before slipping in the bathroom to grab the lube.

“You mean you didn’t enjoy explaining to our friends why it looked like someone tied my hands behind my back with a belt and had their way with me.” You call to him, obvious smirk in your tone.

“Ash knew. He just knew.” Cal smirks, coming back in “Luke took a little explaining.”

“Oh god, you corrupted the baby?” You tease.

“No Love, I’m the baby, and you corrupted me.” He leans in for a kiss, pulling the ties away from you.

“Bullshit! If anything we further corrupted each other.” You giggle into the kiss.

“I can agree with that.” He murmurs, crawling on the bed with you and laying you back.

You enjoy the slow make out session, handsy but not overly eager. Cal slips his shirt off your body, and rolls you on top of him. He sighs as you pull back and hold your wrists out for him. He gently but firmly ties your wrists together and then helps you get comfortable on the pillows before tying them to the headboard.

“You’ll tell me if these need loosened?” He asks quietly, looking at you.

“Of course.” You nod.

Cal leans back for a kiss. He cups your face when he pulls back, just looking at you for a beat, and then his plump lips are on your neck, and he kisses down your body. He stops to pay attention to your tits, gently squeezing one while his mouth engulfs the soft flesh and he sucks, his other hand gently teases your other nipple, he kisses across your chest, doing the same on the other side, you let out a breathy moan and he looks up to you. “Doin ok, m’love?”

“You better be planning to be this loving about it later.” You bite your lip as he gently bites just below your tit before swirling his tongue over it.

“I will… I’m sure you’ll remind me.” He grins before continuing his trail down your body. Cal nibbles at both of your hips, and then he’s pushing your thighs up. He kisses down the back of one and gently bites, and then kisses down the back of the other, his hand soothingly caressing the other. He gives a bit harder of a bite and he’s surprised by your minor moan instead of a squeal. “You feelin it baby?”

You tug at your hands because you already wanna run your fingers through his fluffy curls, Cal notices, and before you can answer him, he wraps an arm around your thigh and licks through your folds, you watch his head dip and feel his mouth setting to work to please you. He stops and you whine, he notices it’s the loudest sound you’ve made thus far.

He grabs the headband off the table and quickly puts it on, you usually hold the hair out of his eyes. He quickly sets back to work, listening for your whines and whimpers. He watches you close, he always does, but this time to see if you’re right. He notices you pulling your hands and getting frustrated, and he’s ready to give in, he’s just started and you aren’t having the reaction he’d hoped for, usually tieing you up is a fun thing for the two of you.

He tries not to think about it as he lets his fingers start working you, two in and thumb on your clit while he kisses on your thighs. He sucks a hickey into your thigh, and finally as he curls his fingers into your g-spot you have a reaction he expects, it’s a breathy moan of his name as you start bucking your hips. “Finally,” he mumbles gently biting your thigh and using his mouth to replace his fingers.

“Cal… please.” You moan.

He focuses his tongue and lips over your clit, bringing you to what he determines to be a lackluster orgasm. Not a lot of whining or whimpering, he can’t tell if you’re being stubborn or it really just isn’t as good, and he doesn’t know if that is his fault.

He kisses his way back up to your lips. “You ready for my cock or do you wanna wait a bit?” He murmurs.

“I’m ready.” You assure him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Cal situates himself between your thighs, sitting on his knees. He runs his palms against your thighs and grins at you. “Your arms ok doll?”

“Yeah, handsome, I’m good.” You smile softly at him.

He grabs for the lube, slicking his cock up before teasing it through your folds. He takes it slow to start, pushing in as far as you’ll take him before pulling out and pushing back in, this time getting a bit further.

He watches you bite your lip, enjoying the fullness as he settles all the way in. Cal runs his hands along your thighs and up over your belly, you hum. “I love the way you feel.” You murmur, dopey smile crossing your face.

“Me too, love.” He murmurs, leaning forward to kiss you. He gently starts rocking his hips, building his rhythm. He listens for you, hears your breathing pick up a touch as he moves a bit faster. After a few more minutes and several kisses to your neck, he turns his mouth towards your arms, kisses and little bites along your skin. “Still ok?” He checks.

“It’s actually getting a bit uncomfortable.” You admit.

He stops what he’s doing and sits up. “Do you need it loosened?” Pushing his hands up your skin soothingly, to the ties.

“It’s not too tight, my arms are just burning from being like this.”

He undoes the tie holding your arms up and lets them come down, resting against the pillows above your head. “Better?” He watches you nod, “mmmkay, no hair pulling.” He reminds you and you nod. He leans forward and works back up to his pace, but he can tell something still isn’t quite working for you. “What is it, gorgeous?” He murmurs.

“We just don’t do chest to chest a lot and when we do it’s not for something like this so it feels a bit weird. Do you not feel it?” You ask, getting a bit self conscious about it.

“No baby I do, but I thought you were just being stubborn because you wanna be right.” He smirks.

“Oh I am right, but I’m not trying to ruin your experiment.” You tease.

“Let’s switch this up then.” He grins. He pulls out and pushes you onto your side and settles behind you, putting your back to his chest. His hand skims down your side, grabbing at your knee to spread you. He slips in and works up to his previous pace, he can already tell it feels better for you.

“Calum,” you moan, turning your face toward his. He presses his lips to yours. “Fuck.” You whimper against his mouth.

Cal likes that this is better. You’re definitely into this more. He watches you pull your arms down so you can start rubbing your clit, and he decides to step up his game, pounding into you. “Feels so fuckin good.” He groans in your ear before biting your shoulder.

“Oh fuck… I’m gonna cum.” You whimper. “Please please please.” You beg.

Cals hand replaces yours at your clit, his other hand comes up to massage your tits, and he leans in to groan in your ear, “I knew this stubborn little pussy couldn’t hold out for much longer.”

“Cal…” you moan.

“C’mon… squeeze that cunt around my cock.” He growls.

“Holy fuck…” you whine, letting the orgasm wash over you.

He thrusts a few more times, “milking my cock so good.” He groans, “you love it when I fill you don’t ya baby?” He moans in your ear, pressing his hips hard into yours as he finishes.

You turn your face into his and desperately kiss him, “I do… I really fuckin do.” You moan against his lips.

Cal stays buried in you, wrapping one arm around your waist and using the other to cradle your head, keeping you in the kiss. He lets you catch your breath and then unties your hands, “told you the sex was still good when you couldn’t pull my hair.” He gloats.

“That wasn’t the argument.” You grin, “I said the sex was better, but that was not to insinuate that it wasn’t good in the first place.”

“Fair point.” He hums, kissing your shoulder, “c’mon let’s get cleaned up and we can watch a movie and rest up.”

Cal likes it as you immediately cuddle into him on the couch, he pulls a blanket over the two of you.

“I like our choices for the day.” You hum, turning your head up to kiss along his jaw.

“Oh yeah? What do you want to do tonight then?”

“Depends on how our afternoon goes, I suppose.” You shrug, smiling innocently while pushing your fingers into the waistband of his underwear.

“My little troublemaker.” He murmurs, resting a hand on top of yours, stopping you from going further, “I forget if you wake up for sex youre horny all day.” He chuckles.

“Used to be something you liked about me.” You tease.

“Oh, I love that about you. Just didn't factor it in for today.” He chuckles.

“Hmm.. that’s too bad, because I have this scene in my head of sitting on your face and threading my fingers in your hair… pulling it so you’ll groan into my pussy and lick up into me the way only you can.” You smirk.

“Oh?” He nods, “I’m sure I can accommodate you.” He pinches your ass. “But we’re supposed to be resting.”

“How am I supposed to rest against your half naked bod when all I can think about is how hard I’m gonna get you to fuck me?” You chuckle.

“I don’t know where this doubt comes from that I won’t take care of you but I honestly don’t like it.” He chuckles.

“If you don’t, there are plenty of toys that can.” You wink.

“And I bought us most of those toys… see still taking care of you.” He grins.

You smile, letting out a little laugh, one that Cal loves, “I like you.”

“I like you.” Cal grins, pulling you in to kiss your forehead, holding you tight to his body. He feels you relax into him and within a few minutes you’re asleep. “Knew you’d be tired.” He murmurs.

You sleep for about an hour, and when you get up to go to the bathroom, Cal gets up to make some sandwiches for lunch. He meets you back on the couch and he sits right next to you. “Did you have a nice nap?” He checks, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“I did.” You grin, “thanks for the sandwich.”

“Anytime love.” He hums, “Ash invited us for dinner. Do you think you’ll wanna?”

“Probably… taco night?” You grin

“I’ll request.” He chuckles.

The two of you keep watching tv until Cal gets up to clean up. He comes back and pulls the blanket off your lap, dropping to his knees in front of you, he pulls your underwear down over your ankles and grins while watching your eyes light up. He kisses over your thighs, helps you pull your t-shirt off.

He leans up, pressing his lips to yours for a kiss before murmuring, “finally, what I really wanted for lunch.” He smirks and works his lips down your body.

You bite your lip and gently grip into his hair, pulling his head up. His tongue briefly lulls out of his mouth. “No one was stopping you.”

“You'd let me use your body till you starved if I let you.” He smirks.

“Mmm, I’d still be happy, but youre the same way baby boy.” You smile coyly.

“I happen to know what I like.” He winks, and in one quick motion pushes your legs wide and angles your hips up.

You adjust your grip in his hair, gently running your fingers through the curls before gripping.

Cal takes his first lick, flattening his tongue against your wet opening and then up over your clit, he uses the tip to tease your clit a bit before fully sucking on your clit.

Cal makes sure to pay very close attention to your body. He notices the way you tug his hair and grip into his skin, grabbing his bicep or forearm, reaching for the back of his neck, pulling him and closer as you get louder for him and arch your back off the couch. He quickly realizes how much he enjoys your touches and your sounds, and he starts thinking you might be right.

“Damn baby, so sweet.” He murmurs, working his fingers in, kissing up over your belly to your mouth. “Think your mostly right though, think you just like to touch.” He admits against your lips.

“I won’t concede on this. I like your hair.”

“I hear you gorgeous.” He promises. “But I’m still gonna get it trimmed. Is that ok with you?”

“Just make sure I can still pull.” You murmur against his mouth. “I like how you conceded before the experiment was over.”

“Well, I’m not done yet.” He promises, giving a quick open mouth kiss before kissing back down your belly. “Actually…” he grabs a pillow from the couch and lays back, “someone wanted to sit on my face.”

“Oh fuck yes.” You moan, jumping up from the couch to get on your knees over Calum’s head. “Baby boy.” You coo, looking down at him as he pulls you down on his face.

Cal’s an enthusiastic eater, it’s one of the things you love about him. And he adores having you over him like this, or spread for him, his tongue curiously exploring every inch of you even though he’s had you like this a thousand times.

Cal is immediately moaning into you, talking about your sweet cunt. You love watching him like this, his hands move between your ass and your hips, wrap around your thighs to pull you closer, his hands push up to your breasts to squeeze and pinch your nipples. As always, him eating your pussy is a full body experience. You cum as soon as Calum starts licking up into you, the tip of his tongue pushing into you instead of just fluttering around your opening and and teasing your clit, he recognizes it immediately, the way you shudder and pull his hair, he loves it, pulling you closer and not letting up, letting you feel every bit of his tongue he can get inside of you.

“Oh god.” You moan, “so good handsome,” tugging his hair between your fingers. You try to push away but Cal’s not having it, and before you know it, “no no no no Cal… I’m gonna..” and before you finish the sentence, you’re squirting on his face. He finally lets you go and he’s grinning so wide as you push away from him, landing on your ass next to him. “I’m so sorry bubba.” You say, slightly embarrassed.

He hums in amusement, grin spread wide across his face as he sits up, one hand immediately reaches for you while the other grabs for the shirt you were wearing so he could wipe his face. His hand pushes up your thigh, and he gently teases your clit for a moment before pulling you in at the waist, “I knew you were getting there.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek. “I love when you do that.”

You pout, “I always feel bad for making a mess.”

“It’s always a mess I’m glad you made.” Cal counters, “why don’t you head to the bedroom and I’ll clean this up. Then… I’m aching to get my cock in you.” He smirks and you stop pouting.

Cal takes a little longer than you expect cleaning up, and you’re laying on your stomach facing the door, humming to yourself, just kind of staring off into space. He walks in and you can see the way his hard on strains against his sweatpants and you reach out for him, licking your lips. He moves closer and even as well as he knows you, he still wasn’t expecting you to pull his pants down and get your mouth on his cock. His fingers thread into your hair as you lick the smeared precum off the tip of his cock.

“Love the way you taste.” You grin up at him.

“You’re not supposed to be doing that.” He coos.

“Can’t help myself.” You wink, rolling over onto your back and hanging your head off the edge of the bed. You push his pants the rest of the way down and pull on the back of his thighs so he’ll step closer. You open your mouth and without thinking, Cal’s doing exactly what you want, putting his cock in your mouth. He waits patiently while you slick him up, tongue lavishing over every part of his hot, hard cock. “C’mon baby boy… you know what to do.” You murmur, gently pinching his thigh.

Calum begins to move his hips, gently at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling of his cock in your throat. His body shudders when he feels you moan around him. And it eggs him on, his mind is blank but he can hear his own labored breathing, he doesn’t remember exactly what is supposed to be happening at the moment, but as he looks over your body, he can tell you’re turned on, and enjoying letting him fuck your throat. Your nipples are hard and you keep opening and closing your legs, trying to find a way to get friction. He uses one hand to trail his fingers up from your belly button, over each of your breasts, letting it stop at your throat. He holds it gently, groaning while feeling his cock as it pushes into the tight space beneath your skin. He pulls his cock back as your face turns red and tears spill from your eyes. You grab his slick cock in your hand and start tugging, moving your mouth to his balls, Cal enjoys it briefly, before realizing, “hey… I’m supposed to be fucking you.” He accuses with a slight chuckle, running his fingers through your hair.

You pull off his balls with a pop, “technically you still are.”

He rolls his eyes and casts a disdainful glance down at you, pulling out of your reach. “You know what I mean.”

“C’mon baby boy.,. Just want a taste.” You whine, rolling back onto your stomach, reaching for him.

“I’ll make sure you get a taste… when it’s dripping out of you.” He decides. He gets his pants off the rest of the way and steps to you, “com’ere little one. Show me your sweet cunt.” You turn your body on the bed, bending your knees and spreading your thighs. Cal kneels on the bed, “I never ever get tired of this sight.” He grins, gently swiping the head of his cock through your slick folds. “Dripping for me, pretty girl.”

He’s barely sunk himself in before you decide he’s taking too long, using the leverage you have from your feet to fuck yourself on his cock. Cal smacks your thighs and you moan out, grabbing your breasts, pulling at your hard nipples, “fuck… yessss…” you moan.

“I’m supposed to be fuckin you, naughty little one.”

“Then fuckin come here and do it, Calum.” You reach out for him.

Calum lowers himself so he’s against your chest, his chains dangling against your skin. “So mean when you want it.” he chuckles, kissing you.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling his hair and his head away from you so you can attach your lips to his neck, while his hips pound against yours. “Harder.” you whimper, digging your fingers into his skin.

Cal grunts in response, but his hips respond in the way you asked.

Each request of “harder” is met with harder thrusts, his hips ultimately hitting yours hard enough to bruise both of you.

“Harder… deeper….” you whimper, tugging on his hair, nails digging into his bicep.

“God dammit.” He groans, knowing you don’t get this way often. He easily lifts you from the bed, surprising you, he bounces you on his cock a couple of times while deciding between the wall and the bedside table. He makes a split second decision and holds you still against him, swiping an arm across the bedside table. It’s not the first time he’s replaced the lamp and it won’t be the last. He sets you on top of it, moving you so your legs are pressed against his chest.

You immediately grip into him, “fuck… that’s perfect,” you whimper and it’s met with a growl from Calum and his grip on your hips tightens. He watches your head fall back against the wall as you mutter breathy confirmations about how good it is around his name and just general utterances of ‘fuck’.

He watches your body, he knows you’re close. He lets one hand trail up your body, cups your tit and pinches your nipple, and then he lets his hand rest gently at your neck. He gently moves his hand up higher and grabs your jaw, pulling you to look at him, “cum” he growls, and you do… loudly, long drawl of his name as you clench so tight around his cock. He pushes your legs to either side and you do your best to wrap them around Calum. You keep your eyes on him while he works on finishing, and he holds an intense gaze with you.

“C’mon baby boy, fill me with cum.” You coo at him. His face falters for a second and a growl leaves his mouth, and with two more thrusts and a grunt, he’s cumming. “Fuck that feels so good.” You murmur. Cal pulls you in against his heaving chest, “see, I told you.” You kiss his chest.

“Well then.” He kisses the top of your head, “you were clearly correct, though I think the data may be skewed, but I’ll allow it.” He murmurs.

You grin at him, and then kiss the middle of his chest, you kiss over to the right and flick your tongue over his nipple and he grabs your hair, pulling your head back. “Mmm mmm baby, four in one day is a lot for you, if we go for five you’ll be cranky at dinner.” He tsks.

“No, I won't!” You protest.

“Yes you will.” He nods at you, “you get cranky when you're tired and i've been working this body all day. Maybe when we get home and I put you to bed.”

“You’re gonna put me to bed?” You challenge.

“Yeah, ‘cause your tired ass won’t do it yourself. So I’ll do it.” He nods, “now,” he gently trails his thumb over your lips, “put this sassy mouth to work and clean my cock.”

You lick the tip of his thumb as he pulls out and away from you. You get on your knees and clean the mixed cum off his cock, squeezing the last bit of his cum out onto your tongue. Without saying a word he reaches down and picks you up under your arms, once you’re on your feet he turns you around and bends you over the bedside table, dropping to his knees to clean the cum from your pussy. He shares it in a kiss before tucking you in for a nap.

“Wait, where are you going?” You murmur, exhaustion taking over.

“I’m gonna shower and go get my hair trimmed. I’ll be back quick, love. You’ll probably still be asleep.” He promises.

“Cal..” you whine.

“Rest you up love, if you’re not your normal sassy self Ash is gonna know something is up.” He chuckles.

“Hopefully it’s you.” You grin sleepily at him.

“Insatiable huh?”

“Sometimes it be like that, Hood.” You reach for his hand, “I love you. Thanks for hearing me out before shaving your head.”

“Well you saved me from the biggest mistake of my life, so I should be thanking you.” He kisses your palm, “love you too baby girl.” He murmurs.

#calum hood smut #5 seconds of summer #5sos smut #calum hood #5 seconds of summer smut #calum and the curls #run your hands through my hair

524 notes · View notes

infernalrevenge · 3 years ago

Text

The Greatest Show

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G

Summary: Donna and Angie attempt to cheer Reader up after a bad day.

Notes: A little bit of domesticity and comfort from our resident dollmaker. Yes, Reader is still a servant in the house while also being her partner -- because why not HAHAHA. Just thought this would be a fun silly thing to write.

----------

This day was not going the way you thought it would. Well, that was putting it nicely -- this day was going to shit.

It was bad enough that you had a hard time falling asleep last night and woke up in a sour mood, but then you had an argument with a new vendor at the village who not only exclaimed that there was no new shipment of vegetables that morning, but also had the gall to try and throw you out of the store under virtue that they "didn't want the freak servants of one of the freak lords tainting their good establishment." The fucking nerve!

When you got back to the manor empty-handed, fuming but attempting to prepare lunch (sans vegetables), you accidentally burned your hand on the hot stove. As if that wasn't bad enough, when you jumped back in pain, you knocked over a few plates onto the floor and had to clean all that up too. You had to complete all your other chores with just one usable hand, the other one wrapped in a loose bandage. Fantastic.

You wanted to scream. Just let out a long scream to let the frustration out.

But you didn't. You couldn't. You still had other things to do, and you weren't going to let a few setbacks ruin it all. You went about your day as usual -- or at least you tried to, because you didn't quite notice how you would grip onto cups a little tighter, with your jaw set and locked as your grit your teeth, and had a perpetual furrow in your brow that worried Donna and Angie.

"What's up with them?" the doll muttered as she watched you slam a tray down in the kitchen when you thought no one else was around.

Donna didn't reply, only looking at the tension you held in your posture -- like you were set to burst with just one wrong move.

Your thoughts were consumed with tasks to perform for the rest of the day, chanting "Just get through it, you'll be fine" over and over in your head like a mantra. You didn't want to worry Donna over such trivial matters. This was just one bad day. You were better than this! You could do this. Just get through it. Just push! Just do it!

It was close to evening when you found your last task for the day before supper: Tidying up the library. Maybe you'll see Donna and Angie there and they could help lift your spirits. Finally, something to look forward to! Angie would probably make some quip about your bandaged hand, and Donna would be winding down on the couch and picking out a movie to watch after supper while you could talk about something to take your mind off the stress. But when you were greeted with a dark and empty space, neither of them in sight, you only sighed in disappointment.

Just get through it, you'll be fine.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked away the blurriness in your eyes, picking up the duster in the corner.

Just get through it, you'll be fine.

You looked up at the clock. Half an hour until supper. Right on time. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and headed for the kitchen.

You were already going through the menu in your head when you felt an insistent force collide onto your chest, nearly knocking you over.

"Angie?"

Donna wasn't with her, and didn't seem to be anywhere nearby either. She was merely floating on her own. "Y/N, just the person I'm lookin' for! Come on, I gotta show you something!" She seemed rather urgent and excited at the same time. What was she planning now?

She took your uninjured hand and started pulling.

"Wait, but I have to get ready for supper--”

"Supper schmupper, this is way more important!"

"But--”

Angie dragged you by the pant leg to the living room, leaving you no choice but to hop along and follow. There, you saw a table laying on its side covered in a shiny silky cloth, obscuring your view of what or who could be behind it. You could just barely see a familiar veil-clad head crouching underneath. Before you could ask, she yelled at you to sit down on the short stool in front of the set up.

"Angie, what's going on?"

"You'll see, I promise. Now be quiet, the show's about to start!"

With that, she waddled away behind the table, seemingly greeted by a chorus of soft giggles. You tucked your knees close to your chest and waited for the commotion to settle down... whatever this was. You were used to Angie's antics at this point, but what kind of show was she talking--

Suddenly, three puppets dressed like the lords popped up from behind the table, with another one looking like a smaller replica of Angie. They all had cutesy and somewhat exaggerated features, completely made out of felt, cloth, and stuffing. Like plushies.

What the...?

"Don't be sad, Y/N!" they said in unison, their voices remarkably similar to each respective lord, if not much higher in pitch.

"Welcome to the village, we're so glad you're here! Turn that frown upside down and give us a cheer!" they sang, each of the dolls moving along to the beat they made.

"Donna, Angie, w-what..." you started, but they kept singing. You weren't quite sure who exactly might be providing these voices -- the dolls themselves, maybe even Donna -- but you were getting more and more amused by the second.

After their short number, introducing each lord to you (Big Sister Dimi, Mr. Heisenberg, Moreau the Fish Man, and Angie, as you recall), they proceeded with the show proper. Apparently that song wasn't all the two of them had up their sleeves.

"Okay, everyone! We have something very important to do!" the doll that looked like Angie spoke up (probably played by Angie herself) "How do we cheer up a loved one?"

"A loved one?" Doll-Moreau repeated.

"Yes! When someone we care about is sad, we should help in any way we can to cheer them up, right?"

"Right!" Doll-Dimitrescu agreed.

You felt a small smile start to crack your facade. Was this all for you?

"But how do we do that?" Doll-Heisenberg chimed in.

"Well what are things that they like? What makes them happy?" Doll-Moreau asked, who turned to Doll-Angie.

"They like cookies! Chocolate chip are their favorite!"

As if on cue, you felt something tug on your leg, and you looked down to see a porcelain doll in a sailor suit lifting up a plate of cookies to you, littered with chunks of chocolate in the dough. "Thank you," you said softly, giving the little one a gentle pat on the head before they ran off back behind the table. You placed the plate on your lap and started to nibble on one as the show went on.

"What else can we do to make them happy?"

"They also like tea with their cookies!"

You could just barely hear someone whisper "Tea? Ew, why not milk?" before they were swiftly hushed. On cue again, another doll emerged with a cup of hot tea for you. You whispered another thanks before they went back, taking a sip of your drink.

"We can sing their favorite songs!" Doll-Heisenberg started trying to sing before Doll-Dimitrescu interfered with a swift knock to his head. "Not with your voice, you can't."

That was a little mean, but you couldn't help but laugh anyway. You would've choked on your tea if you had been drinking it still.

"Why don't we ask them?" Doll-Angie said, turning to face the audience -- you. "What would make you happy, Y/N?"

The smile on your face only widened, tapping a finger on your chin as you made a show of thinking deeply. Might as well play along if they put in so much effort. "Well, what would make me happy is to have my lovely girlfriend here to share these cookies with."

"You heard 'em, Donna, get over there!" The real Angie peeped from behind the table, with the puppet lords cheering on as well as she emerged from her hiding place. You didn't even need to see under her veil to know she was blushing madly at the attention, even though it was just you and the dolls in her company right now.

You moved the plate of cookies from your lap to make room for her. "Y/N..." she was about to protest, and you pouted in response, giving your best puppy dog impression and opening your arms. "I thought you wanted to cheer me up, love?"

With a sigh and a shake of her head, she settled herself on your lap, your arms wrapped around her waist to keep her steady. You looked up at her fondly and pulled her against you -- it suddenly felt like the day's worries had melted away, and all that mattered was having the woman you loved so close to you. That in itself was a great comfort.

Angie seemed to have taken the reins now, the show getting louder and more chaotic as it went on -- the dialogue was reminiscent of the banter you had with her, and some jokes were made at the expense of the other lords (and sometimes Donna), much to her embarrassment. You rested your chin on her shoulder and couldn't help but laugh along.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Donna whispered, tilting her head slightly to look at you.

"You... noticed then?" Your shoulders sagged, head weighing heavier onto hers, feeling like you wanted to hide.

"I did. It was a little hard not to." She gently took your bandaged hand in hers, pressing a tender kiss onto it. "But I didn't want to stand by and not do something about it, so... I hope this was okay."

You felt your heart swell with affection for her -- when did you get so lucky to have such a thoughtful woman by your side? "More than okay. This was very sweet of you and Angie."

A moment passed before Donna spoke again, "I just want you to know that... if there's anything you want to talk about, anything at all, know that I'm here for you, love. Always."

You could almost feel a tear come to your eye at that, "I'll keep that in mind."

You caught a glimpse of her smile at this angle, "You know I'd do anything to see you happy."

And she could see yours, "You already do."

(After learning of the existence of these "lord puppets", it became a game between you and Angie to hide them in plain sight whenever each lord would come visit the estate and bet on how long it took for them to notice it.

Lord Heisenberg almost never seemed to see his -- you weren't sure if he just didn't care to look around, or found it once and opted to ignore it, muttering something about it being "creepy".

Lord Moreau took a while to find his too, but when he did, you couldn't forget the look of joy and flattery on his face. It was quite adorable, and it turned to how quickly he could find the doll in a new room instead.

Lady Dimitrescu never visited, but when you and Donna went over to her castle, you always made sure to bring it with you. You would catch her daughters trying to hide their snickers when you would just stand around carrying the doll like Donna did with Angie, but whenever the lady tried to find out why, she never thought to look at you to see the commotion. Your girlfriend sometimes scolded you for it, but Angie always had a high five ready for you at the end of every visit.)

#donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento #lady beneviento x reader #lady beneviento #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #re8 #gender neutral reader #gn!reader

168 notes · View notes

gentlemancrow · 3 years ago

Note

idk if you’re still taking requests so no pressure but maybe jmart 18 about jon’s scars? or,,, honestly however you wanna interpret that lol

Hehe bet you thought you weren't getting one. But of COURSE you're getting one! <3 HERE YOU GO!! Sorry it is late I am not a fast writer haha! This was a VERY interesting one to interpret and I got a little wonky and metaphysical there for a bit WHICH I LOVE and THE IDEA MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BIT LONG FOR A DRABBLE BUT! It's soft and I'm soft and I enjoyed this one SO SO MUCH ; w ; I hope you do too!!

Jon had Seen enough. Martin had decided that long ago. He had witnessed enough, been forced to witness enough, been the vessel into which literally everything had funneled into in an unrelenting typhoon of unspeakable, unfathomable horrific knowledge comprehensible only to him long enough that he damn well deserved the luxury of imperception. He had earned the right to not notice when Martin accidentally bought the wrong brand of chai, the one he insisted tasted like someone rubbed a stick of cinnamon on plasterboard and jammed it in a cardamom pod, but honestly tasted just like the one he preferred. The universe, whichever one they happened to be in now, owed him not realizing the buttons on his cardigan were one off until they were about to head out and Martin had to fix them, fingers humming with the warmth of him lingering in the cashmere every time. He deserved to forget his keys and then also have to go back to check that their flat door was locked twice, just to be sure. He deserved tossing cabbage in the trolley at the market, only to get home and realize it was a head of iceberg lettuce instead, and also he had completely forgotten the onion anyway so back he would have to go. Tiny and insignificant, patently human foibles that any normal person might tally up to a really rotten day overall and gripe about over a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape he had won as gleaming, pyrrhic badges on the ruins of his humanity yanked back from the claws of the yawning, devouring dark matter of the cosmos and stitched painstakingly back together with love.

But mostly Jon deserved to not notice the way people looked at him.

He need not see the painted-on expressions of strangers that ran the gamut from quiet pity, to voyeuristic curiosity, to outright revulsion that Martin could not help but see everywhere they went. They had no idea. Not even the slightest inkling of what, exactly, had composed that magnum opus of horror and pain scarred resplendently on his flesh, his bones, his sinews and synapses. To even try know was to go mad, the mind looping through and around and between consciousness and logic and love and fear and philosophy and metacognition until it squeezed into an ouroboros black hole singularity of dense unknowing that collapsed in on itself and perished in cataclysm. They had merely gotten lucky that being extruded through the plumbings of creation seemed to straighten out their fibers enough to be woven back into the fabric of reality, but they were too kinked and snagged and gnarled to ever lay fully flat again. And that was why they stared.

The invasive beings of Jon and Martin had come to mutual terms with it long ago, but they also knew they would be forever incongruous with an innocent world, with a world where they did not belong and that collectively looked at them both like an ontological cancer, benign but festering and ugly. They would never know the thing that crouched behind the stars with pointed knees and elbows that even then, groped to find their new world in the lightless vast, and Jon deserved to not perceive any hints of that either. He deserved their quiet, their peace, their wordless human acceptance.

Jon deserved to be innocently chewing a periwinkle-painted thumbnail in front of the ice cream counter, just as he was that gossamer spring afternoon, turning woeful and forever mismatched brown and green eyes at his husband and asking if he should get mint chip or rum raisin before deciding, actually, could he have a sample of the salted caramel ribbon first? He pointed eagerly at the various frozen tubs behind the glass with his gnarled right hand, where the fingers never did quite open or close properly again, and missed in his wonderment at the veritable cornucopia of sweet delights available to him the mingled look of pity and horror on the cashier’s face as she doled out samples at his request. Martin lurked protectively behind, silent, sentinel, seeing it all, a hot brand of fury boring its way through his chest as he glared icy blue daggers at the clueless young woman, who only compounded her crimes by complimenting the permanent white forelock in his ginger curls as she took his order.

Martin snatched his double scoop of rocky road and pralines and cream out of her hand with a withering scowl and said nothing. Jon, frowning in the dread shadow of Martin’s hushed wrath and finally deciding on just the mint chip, took it upon himself to pay while the poor young woman skirted around both their gazes. They took their ice cream to enjoy in the balmy sun on the metal patio tables outside the shop under a cloud of unspoken insults and slander which Jon was more than happy to pop open the conversational umbrella beneath before the downpour.

“Something wrong?” he asked solicitously.

“Nope. I’m fine,” came the curt answer, suspiciously also lacking in eye contact as Martin stabbed his pink spoon into the rocky road.

Jon’s mismatched eyes narrowed shrewdly. There was one thing that never escaped his notice, even now, and that was the painfully obvious way Martin always broadcast his inner hurts and the physical language of his turmoil he had become fluent in over the years.

“Okay, yes you are probably fine. And I’m guessing it has nothing to do with you actually, because you’re angry and you rarely get angry on your own behalf, which means it’s probably something to do with me or some perceived slight. What happened in there? Did someone make a snide remark about my eccentric ice cream selection? The long skirt on a warm spring day? Oh, no, I’ve got it. It was probably the earrings, yes? I knew I should have gone with the feathers instead of hoops, matches the outfit much better.”

The corner of Martin’s mouth quirked up in a hapless, crooked smile as Jon coaxed a laugh out of him, and he looked up into his gaze adoringly to grant him unspoken conciliation.

“No, no not at all. Nothing like that. It’s nothing, love. It’s not a big deal. Just low blood sugar or something. Just eat your nasty mint chip or rum raisin or whatever that unholy concoction is,” Martin snorted, gesturing at his cup.

“Liar,” Jon crooned with loving reproachment, reaching out to thumb a little bit of rum raisin on the tip of Martin’s nose as punishment.

Even breathed with such unfettered, undying affection, Martin hated that word. He hated how transparent he still was to the man he loved, how much he still truly saw him, saw through him. At least all it took to compel him now was a little melted ice cream rubbed clean off his nose and a winsome smile with love-puddled green and brown eyes.

“Okay, okay… fine,” he admitted with a resigned smirk and a sigh, “I don’t like the way they look at you. Okay? That’s all.”

Jon’s brow knitted together curiously.

“Hmm? Who? What do you mean?” he asked.

“Everyone!” Martin finally effused in frustration, “Everywhere! They look at you like you’re… like you’re damaged goods! Like you’re some pitiful beaten animal on the street, or worse, like you’re some sort of- some sort of um…”

“…Monster?” supplied Jon, lips pursed and lids drooping.

“…I wasn’t going to say that,” Martin stammered.

“What other word is there?”

“Fine, they look at you like you’re a monster. They take one look at your face or your throat or your… your hand. And I can just see it on their faces. They look at you like you’re a monster, and I hate it. You don’t deserve that. You never did! They don’t even know you! They don’t know what happened to you…! And sorry, Jon, but I get angry about it because it’s not fair, and I can’t exactly go about lobbing right hooks into the faces of everyone who even looks at you cross-eyed, now can I? Much as I’d like to…"

Jon went quiet as he listened, dabbling first in the rum raisin, then indulging in a little mint chip chaser, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully as he nibbled on the plastic spoon.

“Is that what you see?”

The color rolled out from Martin’s freckled cheeks along with the very spirit from his eyes in a fog, his entire mien awash in pallor.

“What? How could you say that to me? I would NEVER think that about you, Jon! How could you ever think I would think that? I-I know I said some awful things in the past about your scars, but I-“

“No no! Martin, no! Of course not! I know you would never!” Jon cut in, reaching across the table to snatch his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, rubbing his knuckles and over his wedding ring, “You misunderstand! I was asking if that’s what you see in their eyes?”

Martin clung to Jon’s hand, heart palpitating and breath easing.

“Oh…” he blurted dumbly, flushing with lively hues of reds and golds once more, “I-? Of course I do, what else could it be?”

“I don’t see that. I don’t see that at all,” Jon answered simply, “It’s… hard to describe but, damaged goods, disgust, morbid curiosity, those are all… Hard things. They have sharp edges. And when people here look at me, I don’t feel anything hard or sharp, it feels… soft? It feels gentle.”

Shaking his head, Martin frowned.

“Gentle? How is openly gawking at someone’s scars in any way gentle?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. I suppose,” Jon mused, thumbing at his beard with his free hand as he constructed an analogy that would make sense in his mind, “Mmm… Think of it like this. Humans, life, we’re all very visually oriented creatures, right? We respond to visual cues in our environments that are universally understood. We wear these rings so that everyone knows we belong together, just the same as bright colors usually mean poison, or how specialized feathers, or horns, or dewlaps and the like let others know they’d be a good mate, or how some things look like eyes or like entirely different creatures to scare off predators, and so on.”

The creases in Martin’s forehead only deepened in confusion.

“Okay sure, but scars aren’t a natural adaptation? We don’t look at scars the same way we look at pretty eyes on a moth wing or something.”

“I know that, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jon reiterated tenderly, “What I’m saying is I’ve always felt like my scars are a visual cue, but one that says to others ‘treat me gently’, because clearly I haven’t been. And it’s… well it’s been quite nice. You were about to tear that poor girl’s head off, but didn’t you see how she not only gave me about six samples when the sign clearly said two per customer, but then she also gave me the rum raisin ‘by mistake’ and then conveniently forgot to charge for it?”

“Wh-did she?” Martin gasped in shock, rewinding the transaction to remember that indeed, Jon had only asked for mint chip, but there was clearly also a generous scoop of rum raisin in his cup, ”She did… No I… I guess I didn’t notice…”

Jon let Martin’s hand go to cup his cheek pointedly in his scarred palm, running his thumb over the soft curve of his cheek and the spray of his ruddy freckles comfortingly.

“You want to know what I think? I think what you perceive as disgust or aversion or even pity is just fear, like you had. Fear of pain, fear of disfigurement, of fallibility. People are always afraid of seeing what can become of their mortal bodies, but that has nothing to do with me, or being disgusted by me. People are, at their cores, good and gentle, Martin. I know they are, we both do. They see me, my cane, my limp, my hand, my gray hair, my face, and they don’t even ask, they just know, on some primal level, that life was not kind to me. And so in some tiny way, like free rum raisin, they almost always try to give something back to me.”

Jon had known. He had noticed. It had never escaped his perception as Martin had assumed. Jon had known all along, but it was only Martin who still saw daggers in the smiles of strangers while he had taken the last vestiges of his powers irrevocably branded on his body and soul and sowed something delicate and beautiful and blossoming in his new earth. Martin had made a weapon. Perhaps no less delicate and beautiful, but still cold and sharp and deadly. The razor white edge of the sun through frigid fog.

“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Martin choked, his throat pinching shut with the threat of tears, “I-I had no idea…. I-I only thought…”

“It’s alright, please don’t cry, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. You only thought you were protecting me. I protected you for so long, when you were desperate to do the same for me, to save me, but had no power to do either. Now you’ve got your turn to do the protecting in earnest, and honestly, it’s a… can I- can I say hot? Can I say it’s a hot look on you? Or is that weird?” Jon asked, tips of his ears blushing coyly.

Martin managed a laugh as he sniffed back the tears and thumbed both sets of lashes dry under his spectacles.

“It’s a little weird for you, in particular, to say it, just because it’s you. But I’ll take it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Perhaps then, Martin thought as Jon leaned over their whimsical little metal table outside an ice cream parlor by a park with a striped canopy above them and birds singing and kissed his tears away and then kissed his lips into a smile, that sharp things needn’t always be weapons. Perhaps his sword was, in reality, a spade, or a hoe, something to tend and nurture the new and fragile happiness Jon had tilled. Gentle things deserved gentle protection, and he was still going to devote every iota of his being to protecting Jon until the end of their days. After all, as they finally got to enjoy their slightly melted ice cream, Jon still dribbled a bit of rum raisin down his beard and carried on none the wiser. Martin let him go on like that, blissfully unaware, talking about Polyphemus moths and the myth of the cyclops and something about someone going about as Nobody, until he finally reached out with a napkin to attentively wipe it away.

Other than a gracefully paced ‘oh, thank you dear,’ Jon never missed a beat.

#The Magnus Archives #TMA #JonMartin #Jmart #Fan fic #Crow Writes #Ask Drabble #Fricklefracklefloof

72 notes · View notes

billysahoe · 3 years ago

Text

(I feel I’m) In The Mood Also on AO3

Steve goes into a corn maze to find Billy, they get high, they hook up.

Steve felt like shit. Nancy had called him bullshit and broke up with him, out of nowhere. Steve didn’t get what he had done wrong. They were supposed to go to Tina’s halloween party together tomorrow, but now he didn’t want to go anymore. He couldn’t show up without a date, right? No, he couldn’t. He needed to clear his head. Going for a drive would help.

Steve got into his car, pushed his Foreigner tape into the player and turned up the volume. I Want to Know What Love is started playing. Steve turned it up even more. He drove with the windows open, not really knowing where he was going. He kept pushing the pedal, singing along to the music. he was probably going too fast, but he didn’t care. it was late and the roads were basically empty. Suddenly Steve noticed a car parked further ahead, nearly in the corn. He slowed down when he got closer to the car. It had Californian plates. Inside there was a red headed girl sitting in the passenger seat, looking upset. Steve had never seen the car or this girl before. Tourists maybe? Steve parked his car behind the Californian car and got out. He softly knocked on the passenger side window. “Are you okay?” he asked the girl. She didn’t hear him, obviously. She opened the window a bit and gave him a mean stare, not saying anything. “I said are you okay?” Steve repeated. The girl rolled her eyes. “I’m waiting for my step brother. Leave me alone.” Steve could see she was shivering. “Is your brother in the maze? How long have you been sitting here?” Steve asked. The girl shrugged. “A while. My step brother is an asshole, he won’t be back before he thinks I’ve learned my lesson or something dumb like that.” Steve felt sorry for the girl. “Do you want me to go look for him?” he offered. The girl looked away. “Don’t bother.” she mumbled. Steve decided to do it anyway. He went back to his car and grabbed his flashlight. He then noticed his bat. Should he take it? Maybe the girls brother was still out there because he was being chased by some upside down shit. Maybe the guy was just an asshole like the girl had said. Steve grabbed the bat. Before going into the maze he walked up to the girl one more time. “What’s your brother’s name?” He asked her. “Billy.”

Steve turned on the flashlight and stepped into the maze. It really was dark in there, how could that guy -Billy- see anything? “Billy? are you here?” he called out. No reply. Also no creepy rustling in the corn. Steve took it as a win. He got to the first split and decided to go left. How big was this maze even? Steve took a right turn the next. He called out for Billy again but no reply. Maybe the guy could hear him but just decided to not respond. It was probably kinda creepy to be in a maze and then hear a stranger shout out your name. Stupid. “Billy, your sister sent me!” Steve tried. Still no response. He kept walking through the maze for what felt like hours. The maze seemed really big. Or maybe he had just passed the same spots multiple times already, but everything looked the same so Steve had no idea. What if he couldn’t find his way out of the maze? What if he couldn’t find his way out of the maze and there was a demogorgon in the maze? Steve shivered. He came to a dead end with a pile of corn in the middle. Someone was laying in the pile. “Billy?” Steve tried. The guy sat up. “Who the fuck are you and why do you keep calling for me?” He groaned. Steve pointed the flashlight at him. Billy was tan, blonde curls and bright eyes. He was dressed in a leather jacket and tight jeans. Steve had to admit, the boy looked good. “Don’t fucking shine that at me.” Billy growled. He got up from the corn pile and slapped the flashlight out of Steve’s hands. it turned off when it hit the ground. “Dude, I needed that! And your sister is waiting for you. She seems kinda cold. You should head back.” Billy snickered. “The little bitch couldn’t even come out and get me herself, huh? And she isn’t my sister.” Billy pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. He looked at the bat in Steve’s hand. “So, you’re saying my sister asked you to look for me and you decided to bring that creepy ass bat? Wow, she must have said some really nasty shit about me.” Steve scratched the back of his head. “Not really, just eh, precaution.” He picked up the flashlight and tried to turn it on, but it was dead. Neither of them said anything for a while, the only sound being the wind softly blowing through the corn.

“Well, you found me, you can now leave me alone and tell that shitbird that I’m not coming until I feel like it.” Billy said to Steve. Steve shook his head. “I didn’t go in here for that. At least give me your keys so your sister can turn on the heat.” Billy cackled loudly. “I’m not giving you my keys. And my STEP sister is not getting them either. She will just drive off. Hell, maybe you will kick her out and drive off in my car. I don’t even know who the hell you are.” Steve figured that was fair. Billy didn’t know him after all. “I’m Steve Harrington.” he said. Billy didn’t reply, just sat down in the pile of corn again. “I’m not going anywhere, Harrington. And you’re going back to wherever the hell you came from. Leave me alone.” Steve shook his head and sat down next to Billy in the pile. “What are you doing out here anyway?” he asked him. “None of your business.” Steve nodded. “Alright. Well I’m out here because I went for a drive. To clear my head, you know? I got dumped.” He could hear billy huff. “That sucks.” he said. Steve hummed. They sat in silence for a bit again. “I had to clear my head too. Maxine, my step sister, is driving me crazy. She keeps blaming moving to this shit town on me.” Billy softly said. it was now Steve’s turn to say that sucks, and Billy’s to hum. “So Harrington, do you smoke?” Steve nodded. “Yea but I left my cigs in my car.” Billy laughed at him. “Not what I meant. I got the good shit, from California.” Oh, Billy had meant weed. “How good is it?” Steve asked with a grin.

Billy had rolled the joint while Steve had held up a lighter so he could see what he was doing. The joint didn’t look so bad and it smelled great when Billy lit it. Steve hadn’t smoked in a while, and the last time he did the quality wasn’t even that great. he was excited to try Billy’s Californian weed. Steve coughed after the first drag. Billy laughed at him. Steve took another drag, and it felt less irritating on his throat this time. He passed the joint back to Billy, who took a drag like it was nothing. Billy was going to have a tough time finding weed this good here in Hawkins. “I appreciate you sharing the good weed with me. You’re not gonna find anything this good around here.” Steve said. Billy passed him the joint. “Well, guess you owe me then.” “Owe you what? good weed? Because I just said we don’t have that around here. He passed the joint back to Billy again. “You just owe me, Steve. I don’t care what.”

They finished the joint in what felt like minutes. Steve’s toes were getting a bit cold though. How long had they been sitting here? “Maybe we should head back? Maxine is waiting.” Steve tried. Billy groaned. “Don’t ruin it now, pretty boy.” he said. Pretty boy? Steve sighed. “It’s cold out here, you know.” A chuckle from Billy. “Yea, it fucking is. California was better.” Steve stood up and held his hand out for Billy. “Come on then, let’s go.” Billy grabbed Steve’s hand but then pulled him down. Steve planted his hand above Billy’s shoulder just in time, before crushing him. “You should plant your feet.” He grinned. Steve huffed. “I’m high as fuck, let me be.” Billy licked his lips and stared up at Steve, not letting go of his hand yet. “Me too. And I have a good idea.” He let go of Steve’s hand and Steve rolled sideways to lay next to Billy. “Is it actually a good idea?” Steve asked. Billy nodded and rolled on his side to look at Steve again. “I know a way that will get you warm, AND get you over your ex. Two bird, one stone!” Steve raised a brow at Billy. Was Billy going to summon Nancy and set her on fire to keep them warm or something? Steve laughed at his own thought. “What’s funny?” Billy asked, seeming slightly offended. Steve shook his head. “I just imagined you setting my ex on fire.” Billy started laughing too, what triggered Steve and made him laugh even louder. They laughed so hard they actually had to catch their breath after they quieted down.

“So what’s the plan?” Steve asked. Billy moved his lips close to Steve’s ear. “We could fuck.” He whispered. He softly bit Steve’s earlobe after. Steve nervously giggled. Billy had to be fucking with him, right? “You’re playing a dangerous game, Billy.” Steve warned him. Billy looked him in the eye. “Why?” he asked. Steve couldn’t read his expression. “Because Hawkins is a small town with close minded people.” Billy swallowed. “Are you close minded, Steve?” Steve shook his head. “I’m not, but you can’t just ask boys if they want to have sex with you, Billy!” Billy nibbled Steve’s earlobe again, and Steve had to admit he quite liked that feeling. He liked Billy being close to him. “I didn’t just ask any boy tho, I’m asking you, pretty boy. Do you want to fuck me?” Steve needed a second to think about it. “Please, Steve.” Billy moaned in his ear. Steve’s dick kicked with interest. “You might have to convince me.” Steve said. If Billy was joking -which Steve didn’t think he was anymore- this was the moment he could admit it. But Billy didn’t laugh or make fun of him. Billy didn’t say he was just fucking around. Billy sat down on top of Steve and bent down to kiss him.

The kiss felt like fire. Billy was immediately all tongue and teeth and he even moaned. Steve had never been kissed that dirty before. Billy softly bit Steve’s lip and pulled at it before letting go. “Have you done this with a guy before?” he asked Steve. Steve shook his head. “I’ve been with plenty of girls though, I will figure it out.” He then winked at Billy. Billy pressed his hips against Steve’s and rolled them, pulling a moan out of both of them. “Have you?” Steve asked while putting his hands on Billy’s hips and grinding up against him. Billy bent over to whisper in Steve’s ear again. “Yea, I have. I just love having a cock up my ass, Steve. So get on with it and unbuckle your belt.” Billy stood up and Steve let out a little whine. He watched Billy pulling down his own jeans. The boy had a fine ass. Steve grabbed Billy’s sleeve and pulled him down to his knees. “Are you a bit kinky, Harrington?” Billy asked while laying his head on his arms and pushing his ass up in the air. Steve swallowed. “I- I don’t know.” He started unbuckling his belt. Billy had his dick out, it was only fair if Steve undressed right now too, right? “I want you to pull your belt out completely, and then fold it in half.” Billy told him. “And then you’re gonna spank me, alright Stevie?” Steve’s cock felt impossibly hard. God, he wanted to spank Billy. He pulled his Belt out of the loops and then pulled his jeans down so he could free his own cock. He stroked it a few times before folding his belt. “Say please, Billy.” He said. Billy moaned loudly at that. “Yea, just like that baby. Please hit me!” Steve did as Billy asked and let the cool leather hit Billy’s warm skin. The sound of it was loud. Billy’s moan was too. “Please, Steve, again.” Billy begged. He sounded so needy. How could Steve say no to him? He swung the belt again, and he could see Billy’s ass jiggle a bit after impact. It was too dark to see if his ass was getting red though. Steve didn’t know why, but he hoped so. “Again, please.” Billy sounded like he was crying. Steve hit him one more time, as hard as he could. Billy cried out. Steve got on his knees behind Billy and bent over him. “Do you like that?” he whispered in Billy’s ear. Billy sniffed. Steve was sure the boy was crying now. Shit, did he go too far? “Yes. please give me more. I want your cock.” Billy whined. Steve felt a bit confused. Did Billy get off on pain? Steve didn’t just want to hurt the boy. He put his hands on Billy’s asscheeks and Billy hissed at that. “Sorry, I know my fingers are cold.” Steve sheepishly said. “It’s okay.” Billy mumbled. Steve spread Billy’s cheeks and licked a stripe between them without warning. Billy jolted, crying out again. “Fuck Steve! Fuck fuck fuck!” Steve went back in and messily licked Billy’s hole again. Billy pressed his ass back against Steve’s face. Seemed like pain wasn’t the only thing that got Billy off, luckily. “My god Steve you’re so good at this. Don’t stop, please!” Billy babbled. Steve did as requested and kept eating Billy’s ass. He had done it once before with a girl because she asked him too, Steve had figured boys would like it too, and he had been right. Billy’s thighs started shaking and his moans got higher and breathier. “Fuck fuck fuck, Steve I’m gonna-“ Billy didn’t finish his sentence and let out an obscene moan instead while pressing his ass even harder against Steve’s face. Billy was coming. Steve hadn’t even touched his dick. And speaking of dick touching, Steve was in desperate need of touch too. He sat up and wiped his mouth. “I’m close too.” he said while gripping the base of his dick tightly. Billy rolled over so he could look at Steve. “Fuck, just cum on my face.” he said while trying to pull Steve closer. Steve moaned. “Are you serious?” he asked. Billy nodded. “Please please please, Stevie please.” And Steve couldn’t say no to that. He moved closer to billy and started rubbing his dick. “You’re so fucking huge.” Billy said. “Let me have a taste, please?” Steve nodded. He carefully slid his dick between Billy’s lips and moaned at the warmth. it felt really nice. Billy moaned around Steve’s dick and started bobbing his head. Steve was so close already. “Fuck Billy you’re so hot you know that?” he told the boy. He grabbed him by the hair and started guiding him. Billy followed Steve’s rhythm. Steve carefully tried going deeper and Billy didn’t resist. He just seemed to open his mouth even wider. Steve could see drool sliding down Billy’s chin. It should be gross, but instead it turned Steve on. “You like choking on my dick, don’t you?” Steve hummed. Billy moaned around Steve’s dick in response. Steve took it as a yes. Steve thrusted into Billy’s mouth a few times and then pulled out. “Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He grunted. Billy opened his mouth wide and closed his eyes, ready to receive. Steve stroked himself two more times before shooting his load all over Billy’s face. Some got into his mouth, some stuck to his lashes and some dripped down his chin onto his chest and jacket. Steve moaned at the sight. he flopped down next to Billy and rubbed his face. “Fuck, that was amazing.” he smiled. He heard Billy snicker next to him. “It sure was, pretty boy. But my step sister is waiting for me in my car and I have nothing to wipe my face with.” Billy replied. Fuck, Steve had totally forgotten about that. How long had they been here?

They walked back in silence. Steve had offered Billy his sweater to wipe his face. He still looked like a mess after. Steve almost said something about it a few times but then decided not to. Billy had been whiny and needy, but as soon as it was over he was back to the guy that told Steve to fuck off and leave him alone. Steve didn’t want to risk getting punched in the face or something.

When they exited the maze Billy went straight to his car, not saying anything to Steve. Steve gave him a little wave even though the other boy wasn’t looking at him anymore. Steve got into his car too and drove home.

“Jesus christ, Billy, what took you so long!?” Max shouted when Billy got into the car. “Does it matter?” Billy asked. Max studied him closer, from the way his lashes clumped together to the stains on his knees. “You’re a whore.” She said, face scrunched up in disgust. “First day here and you already fucked the first guy you came across.” Billy turned towards her. “You shut the fuck up, Maxine.” He hissed. Max pulled back. “Don’t get so close to me with your fucking dick breath!” She screamed. Billy groaned and started the car. “Shitbird.” “Slut.”

#steve harrington #Billy Hargrove #harringrove #fanfic #ao3

31 notes · View notes

prideymcprideface · 4 years ago

Text

This Can’t be Happening (Levi x F!MC)

Warnings: NSFW!, Strong language

Word Count: 1363

I glance at the time on my laptop, 2:34 am. Ugh. I slam it closed, the screen never changing from the home screen of the game I was playing. Everything I had done to distract myself was failing. I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering. The kiss (M/C) and I shared a couple of days ago was haunting me. No matter where I go, what I do, it’s always playing at the back of my head.

I plop myself onto my floor, laying down to gaze up at Henry 2.0, “I wish I was like you. You wouldn’t be afraid of her, would you? You’d march right into her room and tell her how you felt.... show her even.” Henry waves his little fins in understanding. I smile to myself.

What am I so scared of? Rejection? No, (M/C) has been clear in her feelings for me. So why can’t I just be straight forward with her? Tell her I love her. Levi. Just do it. You can’t keep stressing like this!

I run a hand through my hair. My thoughts are racing, still, all revolving around (M/C). Fuck it. Just try, you dumbass.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I stalk towards the door, heart pounding. If I don’t tell her now, I never will.

*Knock Knock* Even my knock sounds unsure. I turn from the door, now that I was moments away from seeing (M/C), I wasn’t sure I could do it.

“Levi? You okay?” (M/C)’s voice stops me dead in my tracks. I gulp and turn to look at her. I can’t meet her eyes.

“Ha.. yeah, I was gonna see if you wanted to hang out,” I nervously scratch the back of my neck, “But it’s late so I decided to just... leave. Sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered.”

Her eyes narrow, she obviously doesn’t believe me. “So, you ding dong ditched me? Kinda rude.” She joked.

“I ding dong what now?” (M/C) laughs at my confusion.

“Just come in here, Levi. I was about to come see if you were down to watch a movie, anyway.”

“Really?!” Dude, chill it’s a movie, my smile falters “I mean, you were?” I say this time with noticeably less enthusiasm.

“Yes,” She rolls her eyes and grabs me by my arm, pulling me into her room, closing the door behind us. “I was thinkin’ about you, and thought ‘hey maybe we could cuddle and watch somethin’!’ And here you are, like you read my mind or something.”

“Yeah I was thinking about you, too.” My face flushes, 10x more than it should have at such a simple confession. But once I glance to (M/C) and find her smiling so brightly, my bravery is fueled. “Ever since we kissed, I can’t really think of anything else.... but you.”

“It was quite a kiss, wasn’t it?” She scoots closer to me, placing her arms around my neck. The human playfully twirls a strand of hair between her fingers. “Very. Memorable?”

“Mmm, very.” I’m caught up in her presence. The way she’s tilting her head while studying my face, the gentle caress of her fingers through my hair, the way a small smile is seemingly always on her lips. Everything pulls me in.

“I love you, Levi.”

That didn’t just happen. No way. No way! Someone like her would NEVER say something like that to me... a demon. Nope.

“Levi?” (M/C) Is holding my face, inches from her own. “Levi! Hello, earth to Levi!”

I blink, once, twice, “Holy shit you really said that..... I- I thought I imagined it, oh my heck.”

“Do you not-”

“Yes! No! Yes!” What are you saying, Levi?! “I love you! So much. Too. I love you, too!”

I would’ve have spent the next 5 years drowning in self-pity if (M/C) hadn’t pulled me in - drowning me in her scent, instead.

She loves me. Ha. She really loves me.

I pull back from her hug, only to smash my lips into hers. I scoop her into my lap, leaning back onto her bed. My every sense is focused in on her, and I can’t get enough.

We separate to catch our breaths, our hands still gliding over each other, exploring.

“I’m bad with words,”

“Levi, that’s okay,” (M/C) tries to comfort me.

“No it’s not, but let me make it up to you,” I bring her ear down to me, so I can whisper, “Let me show you how I feel.” I can hear her breathe hitch in response to my words. She only nods.

Once again my lips are on hers, more intense this time. Devouring her, exploring her more than I ever have before. Our bodies move together perfectly. When I grind up into her, she’s pushing down onto me. Our rhythmic movements get me harder and harder, until I’m straining uncomfortably against her.

In one swift movement, I trap her underneath me. She still manages to rub against my clothed dick, driving me crazier with each movement.

“You did this to me,” I lay down on top of her, roughly pressing myself into her abdomen. “I want you so badly, (M/C). Can I have you?”

“I don’t know, Levi, can you?” She looks at me through her lashes, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Please.”

“Of course you can, Levi.” She rolls her hips into mine drawing out a small groan from me. “You can have me however you like.” Fuck.

Without another word, her large pajama shirt is discarded across the room. I eagerly tongue my way across her exposed chest, her scent causing me to lose myself in her. I suck across her collar bones, I nibble and lick her nipples, I leave mark after mark up and down her stomach. She’s wriggling underneath me, and I love it.

She palms against my erection, reminding me I’m still confined by my pants. I raise myself from her for just as long as it takes me to rid myself of my clothing, then, I’m right back on her. It’s her turn now to wiggle out of the silky pair of panties she has on. The whole time, she pumps my dick in one small hand, teasing my tip with her thumb.

I feel her line me up with her entrance, my cock twitches in anticipation. She notices and a small hum shows her appreciation for my readiness.

“Ready?” Her smirk is back. But before she can get the satisfaction of once again teasing me, I thrust into her. A load moan escapes her, her head falls back onto the pillow. With every drive into her, an equally satisfying sound meets my ears.

(M/C) can barely speak, aside from various moans and my name. And all I can do is watch as her cunt practically sucks me in, I go faster and faster, chasing my release, my thumb rubs circles on her clit. I can feel (M/C) tense, her breathing picks up, cueing me in that she’s just as close as I am.

“Cum with me, (M/C).” I speed up, and unapologetically slam into her bringing us both to our breaking points. “Fuck!” My thrusts falter as I spill my seed into her. Her nails dig into my arms as her walls pulse around me, the extra stimulation has me seeing stars. We come down, both panting and heads spinning. I collapse next to her, pulling her small frame against me. Her hair tickles my nose, but I just nuzzle closer.

“Mm, I love you, (M/C).”

“Levi, you’re awake? It’s about time, dude, I thought you were dying or something, you started breathing so weird.” (M/C) wakes me.

My eyes snap open. I’m in (M/C)’s bed... She’s typing at her laptop. I had fallen asleep while we were studying together.... Which means-

“It was a dream?” I ask, my heart drops. I dreamt that, of course I did, she would never love you back.

“By the way,” (M/C) meets my gaze, a knowing smile written across her face, “I love you, too.”

#OBEY ME #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me levi smut #obey me levi x reader #obey me levi x mc #om! leviathan #swd leviathan #leviathan smut #obey me fic #obey me imagines #obey me short fic #first person levi

421 notes · View notes

kinsurou · 4 years ago

Text

Forgive me Lord, for I am sinning

Pairings: Dabi (Touya) x Reader

Word count: 5.4K

Warnings: Smut (18+), Incubus!Dabi, Swearing, Dirty talking, Alcohol, Oral sex, Unprotected sex, Hair pulling, Slight mentions of breeding, Dabi being a little shit, Slight comedy.

Part 2 of the Incubus!AU. This one's a bit different from the first part. Special thanks to @dragonhrte for beta reading this monstrosity for me, and my friends @hawks-senseis @shoutogepi @honeytama @gr0vndz3ro @wakaoujisenhime @sailor-manga for listening to my non-stop ramblings as I worked on this piece! ❤

If somebody had said that after visiting your stranded family, you would end up coming back home bonded to a demon after getting laid inside the same church that brought nightmares upon you for years. You would have laughed at them before asking them to hand over some of whatever it was they may have drank.

But now, as an all too familiar weight drapes over your body, emitting such heat, that it covers your body with a thin layer of sweat despite the intensity of the air conditioner. Followed by a pair of warm lips slowly kissing the back of your neck, as they descend all the way to your lower back. Lastly, the pair of hands squeezing their way in between the mattress and your front to play with the soft mounds in your chest.

It all makes you think twice about everything you once believed to be nothing but myths and bedtime stories a parent would tell their child so they would behave.

An eyebrow twitched in annoyance as those hands pinched your nipples teasingly, tracing a small pair of piercings adorning the erect nubs. But you made no effort to move from your position in bed, trying to get as much sleep as possible before the start of the day.

“...What do you think you’re doing?” But your tired, sleepy voice was simply ignored, and the owner of those hands leaned down to purr softly over your ear as they started biting the lobe softly.

“Well...I firmly believe there’s no better way to start the day than with some nice morning sex.” Sharp fangs nibbled gently over your neck, right over the spot where a burgundy mark branded the sensitive skin. ”C’mon little one, I’ll be quick.”

Taking a deep, tired breath, a hand reached out for a small spritzer on the bedside table. Without even bothering to open your eyes, you quickly proceeded to spray the creature looming above your previously sleeping self, who by the way, started hissing painfully by the moisture damping his face.

“What the fuck is that?!” This time, you actually rose half-way from bed to glare at the demon rubbing his smoking face as if his life depended on it. Teal eyes were dangerously lowered into a glare, but honestly? After spending nearly two months stuck with Dabi, he didn’t scare you one bit anymore.

The demon that took you under the eyes of God and the little shit in front of your bed are two completely different individuals by this point. Now, every single day was spent being followed around the apartment by a horny demon trying to either seduce you or feel you up in order to satiate his hunger. Of course, it always backfired on him.

“Holy water.” The spritzer was pointed at him yet again, and he flinched back slightly, glaring at the plastic bottle with nothing but disgust “When I said I was mad at you, It was serious! Why are you still here anyway? Didn’t you get your own place next door?”

“Not really, just used my hypnosis on the old lady to get in.” He shrugged “If it makes you feel any better, I gave her back the keys some time ago. Told her I found them laying around.” He followed with a sly grin, that somehow riled you up even further “By the way, she thinks I’m your boyfriend.”

He got spritzed again, Much to his chagrin.

………

“So, ‘Touya’...” At the mention of his “name”, Touya looked up from his spot on the couch, frowning slightly after what happened that morning. Those little tantrums of the devil’s spawn usually lasted a few hours before he was back to his casual, lazy, and annoying self. “How did you become trapped in the church in the first place?”

“Why? Want to send me back? Sorry doll, but there’s no way I’m going back.” He got up from his seat and slowly approached while you were busy having some food. Coming up from behind, his face came from one side to give an alluring kiss to your jaw. “Especially now, that I have such a nice, little vessel all for myself.”

Even though you kept ignoring his approaches, those small shivers that went through your body with his every touch, were more than enough to nourish him for a while. But it’d be a lie if he said he wasn’t expecting a full meal like the one from that night.

“And what’s with this ‘vessel’ shit? Why me? There were plenty of girls back home, so why did you pick someone like….me of all people?” You jerked away from him, much to the demon’s disappointment, and picked up the empty dish, getting up from the chair to let it sink into the soapy water from the sink before turning to look at him with a frown.

“It’s just like I said before.” He twirled a lock of your hair between his fingers. “There’s something different about you. Besides, all of them are just like those instant meals you like, full of artificial shit. Like that cousin of yours, what’s their name again…? Meh, doesn’t matter, you know who I’m talking about, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed knowingly, fully aware of who he was talking about. The family’s golden child. The one who’s never disappointed the family and is their little star. But behind closed doors? They were probably worse than you.

“But you’re different, want to know why?” He got so close, that you could feel the heat of his body through his clothes. His face was so close as well, and it was strange looking at him without all those stitches and scars. Now that you think about it, it’s been a while since he stopped using this “Glamour”.

“Because you’re not someone who’s afraid of speaking your mind, so what if you’re not their golden child? You’ve always stayed true to yourself.” A hand made its way inside your shirt, claws roaming seductively all over your back. You couldn’t help closing your eyes and gasp quietly as ‘Touya’s hand kept grazing your body with that burning, lust-filled touch.

But as soon as his lips grazed your own, the loud shrill of your phone caught the both of you off guard and nearly caused you to bump ‘Touya’ in the face.

Flushed face turned away from the demon, you turned all your attention to the device. The caller’s ID made you smile in excitement once you saw the name of your best friend, there was only one reason she would call you this early during the weekend.

“Hey, What’s up!” Her cheerful voice made you walk away from the sink, leaving a frowning demon behind. Touya only glared at the device as he saw you talking happily with the girl on the other side of the line. He caught the word “party”, and couldn’t help but smirk smugly once he realized just what that meant. He was really going to enjoy this.

“Alright, I’ll go get ready, see you there!” Ending the call with a squeal, you ran into your room to look for a proper outfit and do your makeup. He just followed behind silently and leaned against the open door, watching you get undressed with a hungry glint in his eye and a devilish smirk.

“Ugh...Which one should I wear?” You mumbled to yourself, looking at the two tops in the bed with a pensive look. Black or Blue top?

“The blue one looks better.” The demon’s voice surprised you for a bit before a loud shriek was heard as he got the other top thrown at his laughing face, but you had to admit he had good taste. The top he suggested had been sitting at the bottom of the closet for a long time anyway, so it was the perfect time to use it!

Grabbing a pair of black jeans, you quickly got dressed and began putting on makeup, just enough to make your eyes stand out with the lights from the club, and a beautiful shade of red that complimented your skin just perfectly. Lastly, a pair of boots that fit the outfit just perfectly. From his place, Touya gripped the fabric thrown at his face strong enough to slightly tear through it with his black claws. Pupils dilated at the sight of those boots adorning those beautiful legs of yours.

Checking the hour, you still had some time before meeting up with your friends. Snatching a small handbag nearby, you made sure everything was in place. Money? check. Keys? check….A condom, just in case? Check.

“I’ll be back later. If I find any of the neighbors at the door, I’m exorcising you myself!” You looked at Dabi with an annoyed squint, remembering the last time he got in trouble for scaring one of the nosy neighbors from the other building, claiming they had it coming for trying to peek through your window.

He said nothing as he saw you rushing out, a wicked grin appeared on his face as he thought of the surprise you might get tonight. It was going to be so much fun.

Two hours later, you were having the time of your life with the others. Taking shots, dancing to the loud music, and sharing looks with one of the hottest strangers you’ve ever met in your life while sitting at one of the barstools. Too intoxicated by the high from the party to notice the burning sensation around the skin of your neck.

“Sooooo, why haven’t you texted these past weeks?” Your friend sat down at your left, resting for a bit from dancing her heart out with this other girl that kept making eyes at her, much to her flustering. “She’s totally checking you out! Atta girl” She couldn’t stop giggling like a teenager at your remarks.

“I’ve been busy, lots of stuff that needs to be taken care of.” Like how to get rid of the demonic hobo that keeps stealing the instant ramen. But your friend only gave you a look while downing another shot of some liquid courage.

“The last time you said that we had to take all of the stuff you dropped at your ex’s home after you broke up with them. You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” She gave you a knowing grin. This girl knows you better than your own family, but what were you supposed to tell her?

Yeah! I went to visit my family and ended up fucking a demon at the church, who just happened to move in with me and won’t stop trying to get laid!

At this rate, you’d probably end up locked up if someone could hear your thoughts.

Downing another shot, she stood up from her seat and made her way back to the dancefloor and into the arms of her admirer. Thinking about the situation back home left you thinking about Dabi, and that day back at the church. He may try to get into your pants nearly every single day, and yet, he usually stopped his approaches after a while.

Despite all the stress he caused, sometimes he'd go out of his way to help out, even though most of the time he kept messing with your stuff...Maybe...he wasn’t so bad after all…

“Gah! What am I thinking?” Shaking the thoughts out of your head, the drink in front of you was quickly downed.

“Something troubling that pretty face?” Another voice came from your right side before you had the chance to order another drink. Looking back quickly made your face get warm. The same guy that kept looking at you was standing right there. Just having him this close made something stir inside, as well as a burning sensation at your neck that was brushed off in favor of admiring this beautiful stranger.

“You can say that again, haha….” He sat down beside you, before ordering two beers and handing one over to you.

“Well, hearing a pretty one out is my specialty. Cheers for our troubled lives, am I right?” He raised the bottle before taking a big gulp of the cold, bitter liquid and you followed after him, the night passed by with some small talk and laughter as your face began getting warmer because of the alcohol.

And by the time the clock struck past 1 am, you were already close to this stranger at the far corner of the club.

….Or at least you tried to.

Another two hours passed by, and the sound of the door being slammed loudly caught Touya’s attention as he read one of your favorite books at the same spot from that afternoon.

“You….!” A furious growl came out of your throat. He didn’t bother looking up, already feeling the heated glare at the back of his head before hearing your marching to the bedroom, and he just grinned in realization once he caught a whiff of your scent.

Dropping the book carelessly behind him, Touya walked nonchalantly inside the bedroom, spotting you taking off all the make-up, half-ruined by your sweat.

“Something wrong, little one?” You turned to glare at him furiously, before throwing the cotton pat at him, which was quickly dodged. But he couldn’t dodge when you pulled him by the collar and began shaking him in anger.

“What did you do to me?!” He felt the frustration coming out of your body, and he also saw it on those fiery eyes of yours “I was this close, THIS CLOSE to getting laid with one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met in my life!” Your faces nearly touched each other “But right as we were about to do it, not only does this fucking mark starts burning like crazy! I couldn’t feel anything as he touched me!”

You smacked his chest rapidly, trying to let out all that pent-up anger inside, if only this bastard could actually react to your punches, it would actually be satisfying to hit him, but he wouldn’t even flinch.

Before a hand could land on his face, he quickly caught it mid-air, pulling you closer by the waist with something dark in his eyes. Bright, glowing eyes looked down at you.

“That’s just a side-effect of being a vessel. You can actually be pleased however you want, but there’s a catch.” The way he grinned gave away his answer even before he continued to speak. “As long as we’re bonded to each other, only a master can actually please their vessel.”

You pulled away from him, holding the wrist he held closer to your chest. Like he could tear off the limb in an instant if you weren’t careful enough.

“Besides, think about it. Why would you want to be pleased by a mere mortal, when you know just what exactly your master can offer? Or have you forgotten that night? When you could only scream how much you adored my cock?”

As much as you wanted to pour the contents of the spritzer on him...he had a point. Why in the world did you want someone else when someone that made you feel such wonderful things, was living under the same roof as yours?

It’s a trap.

Looking down at the floor, you bit harshly at your lip and headed towards the bathroom. After everything that happened tonight, you really needed to freshen up.

Getting undressed and stepping under the running water in the bathtub was easy. Allowing the cold stream to run down your body, trying desperately to ease the aching heat between your legs was the hard part. With each passing second, the increasing heat became insufferable, but no matter how chilled the water felt, the aching wouldn’t go down one bit.

Lust began clouding your thoughts the more time you spent under the cold bath, it was starting to become downright painful and as much as you tried pleasing yourself, it just wasn’t enough.

Walking out of the shower with a soft towel carefully wrapped around your body, you tried to distract yourself blow-drying the damp locks of hair. Trying to ignore the clenching between your thighs. Despite having just taken a shower, there was already slick running down your legs.

Whimpering, you walked out of the bathroom. Colliding with Touya’s hard chest as he stood in the way between the bathroom and the hallway. His whole body trembled as he let out a low, dangerous growl as soon as he caught a whiff of your scent. It would be a lie if you said that sound didn’t scare you…and at the same time, excited you.

Slowly tilting your head up to look at him, you were met with the same dark eyes from that time at the church. And before you realized what was happening, he had already pushed you against the wall, caging you in the spot with his arms.

“T-Touya…?”

But he just ignored you and crashed his lips upon yours with a bruising force. Sending an overwhelming shock from head to toe that nearly made your body give up and fall down on the floor. It was fierce, strong, passionate. You couldn’t even begin to fully describe it, but it was perfect.

“I could smell you from the other side of town.” He broke the kiss, allowing you to catch your breath before he kissed you again as eagerly as before. This time you were ready, and gladly began kissing him back with the same strength. Moaning into the kiss and holding onto him for dear life as his middle finger began prodding its way inside you. He swallowed your every noise happily, enjoying the way your body began trembling as his hand gave you a slight taste of sweet relief, that was so desperately needed.

Then he broke the kiss one more time, teal eyes engulfed in black as he admired your warm face and half-lidded eyes. “That sweet scent of your body, crying out to be pleased, begging to be satisfied until you become nothing but a limp mess underneath your master.”

He looked at your eyes closing with nothing but bliss, begging for more of his unholy touch. Nothing mattered to you anymore, all you wanted was for Touya to defile your whole being like he did the very first time.

“Ahhh….Please…” Lust glazed eyes fluttered open to look at him, and he almost wanted to take you right there, right now “Take my body however you want, Master…”

In an instant. He pulled his hand away from your core, yanking the towel away in the process. With little to no effort, Touya lifted your body with both hands and wrapped your legs around his waist, before taking your begging self to the bedroom. And this time, nothing would stop him from having you, and if he had to obliterate someone to ashes, in order to get what he wanted, he would.

He set you down in front of the bed and sat down on the edge, spreading his calves wide open, just enough for you to fit in at the same time that he leaned back on his lean arms. Face leaning against his knuckles as he looked at your trembling self.

“What are you waiting for, little one? Your master is waiting.”

Nothing but pure, concentrated arousal fueled your every thought. One knee bent down on the floor, the other one followed soon after. Finally, you sat in front of the demon, resting both hands over your knees, and waited for his next commands while staring at a growing bulge, easily noticeable under the layers of black denim.

“Time to worship your master’s cock, little one.”

Shaky hands made contact with the zipper of his jeans, slowly tugging it down. A small purr was heard from above you, and the room slowly began to get warmer as the demon’s pants slowly became looser around his waist.

“Look what you do to me. I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now.” He growled in contempt once his jeans were undone and his underwear was pulled down. That all too unique cock sprung out before your half-closed eyes, already dripping with precum. Having it this close to your eyes was way different from last time.

You could see every detail of the ridges at his sides, and this time, there was something else you definitely did not see, or feel the last time. He smirked widely, showing off those longs fangs of his when he saw you look up at him with curious eyes.

“This is new...When did you get a Jacob’s ladder?” Your hand grasped around the erect member, taking as much of it as it could. Thumb tracing a small vertical line at the underside of it, right in between the row of piercings decorating his shaft, all the way from the base until it stopped right below the tip. The slightest touch was almost enough to send the demon into a frenzy.

“Shortly after leaving the church. But what can I say? I wanted to surprise you.” He didn’t move one bit as he stared at you with those bright eyes. His hands cupped the side of your face, nails scratching gently at your cheek, and you couldn’t help leaning towards his warm touch. “This cock isn’t gonna suck itself. Come on little one, get those pretty lips of yours to work.”

Too lost in the haze to even bother giving the demon a snarky remark, you happily obeyed his orders.

Slowly, your hand started touching his length with cautious, but firm strokes. The more you kept touching him, the heavier his breathing became.

“Your hand feels so good.” As much as you wanted to keep on teasing him, the trembling between your legs just kept getting stronger. Desire kept growing inside you like vines, snaring themselves painfully against your very soul.

Leaning forward, your lips gave the tip of his cock a tender, delicate kiss, and not only the feeling of those soft lips against him, but the dazed look in your eyes made Touya grip the blanket with force, growing nails digging into the material underneath, much to your chagrin. But right now, that didn’t really bother you. The only thing that mattered, was worshipping the throbbing cock in the palm of your hand.

Might as well give the demon what he wanted…

“Mmmm...Is my master enjoying this?” You kept moving your hand while peppering his tip with more kisses. Starting at the head before leaving a trail all the way down to the base. Not once did you break eye contact with him, and he couldn’t really complain about the view.

“Stop with the teasing already,” His hand pulled harder on your hair, leaning down until both of your faces were so close to each other, that you could practically feel his jagged breathing fanning against your warm face, and those hypnotizing blue orbs nearly digging a hole in your soul. “Now’s when the real worship begins. You know what to do, little one.”

You couldn’t hold back a gasp as he pulled harder on your soft locks, and he took advantage of that little noise, to push that pretty mouth down on his cock, hissing in delight at the warmth of your mouth.

“Shit…! your mouth feels so fucking good, it’s just as nice as your pussy!” Both of your hands came forward to rest on top of his thighs while moaning around the pulsing length. Small vibrations made him tilt his head back with closed eyes and a satisfied groan.

He tasted so good, that the pent-up frustration accumulated over the past week because of him, dissipated in an instant, and all you cared about was showing him...just how much you loved, your master��s cock.

Not waiting for a command, you began bobbing your head immediately, taking as much of him as possible, while continuing to stroke whatever bit couldn’t fit inside your mouth. Saliva and pre-cum mixed together into a lewd mixture, slowly dripping down your chin with each bob of your head.

The grip in your hair became firmer the more your tongue kept tracing circles on his tip. Touya could hear your little, satisfied hums the more you attempted to take him deeper with each thrust of your head against his hips. Thighs shaking desperately once the taste of his precum reached every corner of your tongue.

“As much as I love the way you take my cock with that filthy mouth,” With a single maneuver, he pulled your face away from him despite the little whines you gave, wishing to taste him just a bit more. “I can’t wait to leave bruises all over that pretty skin.”

Unwilling to wait any longer, Touya pulled you off the ground, and with a grin, he threw you face down on the bed. The mattress dipped down on your side by the weight of the demon climbing over your withering body.

“Get on your knees, right now.” The authority in his words was almost enough for you to melt on the spot. Obediently, you positioned yourself just as the demon said, and felt him grab on your hips with a force that would certainly leave a path of dark bruises.

When he began rubbing himself against your soaked folds, the friction from those firm ridges sent an exquisite sensation through your whole body, it made him laugh darkly once he heard those small, silent gasps as you waited eagerly to be filled.

A sharp pain shot through your backside when his hands smacked the skin of your ass, and although it was painful, it felt so good at the same time.

“What’s the matter, little one?” Another smack was given, making you yelp from excitement “You like this don’t you? What a filthy slut!”

When a third smack was given, tears ran down your face desperately. All you wanted was for this demon to ravish you at once. Not a pinch of pride or shame remained inside. You wanted him, and badly.

“Ahh...Please, master…” A hand snaked its way underneath, spreading those slick folds wide open as an offering to the demon. “Please, fuck me already. I can’t take it anymore!”

“Good!” One of his hands pushed lightly on the head of his cock, guiding it towards your warm, little hole and with a swift thrust, Touya buried himself all the way in. “Cause I’m gonna fuck you senseless, make you feel so damn good, that the thought of being with someone else will never cross your mind ever again, little one.”

Oh god, it was even better than last time. You could feel every single ridge, and those piercings brushing snuggly against your walls as he began with a fast pace immediately. His every thrust turned you into a mess underneath him.

Why did you even want someone else in the first place when you had this? If you had to settle for one dick to satisfy you for life, then maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your face buried against the bed with a lost smile and eyes rolling into the back of your head. In addition, your hands kept gripping the sheets with a death grip as Touya began hitting a spot over and over again that knocked your breath away. Watching you squirming underneath him was truly a sight to behold, nothing could come close to how beautiful you looked in the demon’s eyes.

“I can’t get enough of this delicious pussy, it feels amazing having you taking my cock like this…!” He held your body closer to his, hands kneading your chest in synch with his every push.

Your moans became louder with every single hump of his pelvis ramming against your ass, it brought you closer and closer over the edge. Until that all too familiar knot in your stomach.

“Master!...I’m coming! I’m coming!” Your whole body began trembling from the upcoming high, inner walls clasping around the throbbing girth humping your insides so wickedly good.

But then, Touya stopped moving so abruptly that it almost made you cry out in frustration. Was this his revenge for the spritzer?

But that’s wasn’t it. Instead, he flipped you over and pulled those beautiful legs to rest against his shoulders. Nibbling softly on the soft flesh of your inner thighs made goosebumps appear all over your body, and with a grin, he once again slammed his cock inside that warm, sloppy hole he adored. Picking up his brutal pace from before caused the headboard to slam loudly against the wall with each jab of his hips against yours.

“I want to see that look on your face again. That look in your eyes as I fill this delicious pussy with my cum!” You couldn’t stop gasping for air the more he kept shoving his length into the depths of your warmth, savoring the feeling with eyes closed tightly in nothing but pure enjoyment.

"Take it you little lamb! Take all of your master's seed until you become big and swollen with my offspring!"

He gave another rough thrust, hitting that same spot from before with an intensity that made you cling onto him for dear life, wrapping your arms around his neck. The heat from his body was searing hot, a little more and it could burn you alive at any moment. When you opened your eyes again, the sight you witnessed was hypnotizing.

His body was engulfed in blue flames, and despite being so close to him, that fire around him didn’t burn your skin in the slightest, but instead, it began burning away at his skin, and you realized it was actually destroying his disguise. When he lifted his head from your neck, you saw the same scarred face from that night at the church.

But his unnatural appearance didn’t bother you anymore, too lost in the high as Touya...No...As Dabi let out a deep snarl and with a powerful thrust, that tight knot in your stomach burst. Making you scream as an orgasm overtook your senses.

The look in your face sent Dabi into a frenzy, the sound of his length sloshing into your sloppy core resonated through the bedroom, and with a couple more thrusts, he slammed himself deep inside, clinging onto you as he filled your womb with his scalding seed.

You both stayed in place, breathing heavily while clinging to each other. Slowly, he pulled out and crawled back, the motion caused your legs to plop on the mattress and he watched in satisfaction as his seed kept leaking out of your drained body, before getting up from the bed and walking out of the room.

For a good ten minutes, you didn’t bother moving, wincing slightly at the sticky sensation all over your whole body, and when every single spasm kept making your body leak with Dabi’s cum, you felt even stickier. The bedsheet laid there completely torn to shreds, soaked and slightly charred.

“Come here.” Dabi walked back inside the room without his human disguise. Carefully he picked you up bridal style and took you back to the bathroom, where the bathtub was nicely filled. He helped you get in and lean back against the edge as the steaming hot water helped your worn-out body to relax. “There we go.”

“Why are you doing all this? I thought demons didn’t care about us mortals.” From the corner of your eyes, you spotted him picking a small towel from the shelves before he approached the tub again, he soaked it slightly in the tub, before using it to wipe your face.

“Well, I need to take good care of my vessel.” This time, he used the towel on your hair, the warmth felt nice on your sensitive scalp after having your hair pulled for a good time. “And honestly? I like this. You have guts standing up to a demon. Can’t say I don’t like the thrill though. So, as long as we’re bonded, just sit back and enjoy your daily life while I make sure to give you whatever you need.”

You hated to admit it, but it was a tempting offer. Either way, you’re definitely going to hell anyway....Maybe this deal wasn't so bad after all.

@hawks-senseis @honeytama @savagetrickster @unbreakableeiji @wakaoujisenhime @fanfic-me-up @natsuosfairy @sailor-manga @shoutogepi @gr0vndz3ro @divinewhimsy

#bnha imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha smut #dabi smut #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi is touya #touya smut

700 notes · View notes

duskamethyst · 4 years ago

Text

not a bad thing.

a/n: we often see fics involving cats turning into a human hybrid but i wanted to switch it up. i wasn’t sure if i wanted to make him full on quadrupedal or just half human-cat. spoiler: i chose the latter.

word count: 2.8k

genre: fluff

warnings: n/a

pairing: catboy!shinsou x gn!reader

summary: shinsou is infested by a quirk that turns him into a cat. how is he going to turn back?

you and shinsou are on patrol before suddenly alerted that there is a robbery from the jewelry shop nearby. the both of you quickly get into offensive mode and spot the running criminal, one that you’ve never seen or known of– probably making their debut tonight. they have the physique of a human but the head of a cat. none of you have any idea of what their quirk is but judging from their figure, you probably have the gist of it.

“okay, they’re running into an alley!” you inform shinsou who’s running right behind you. “i’ll try to get them from the back while you try to distract them.”

“hey, wait–” he calls but you already left him when you turn to the other side of the building to execute your plan.

you stalk the criminal behind the wall who’s running towards your direction before jumping in front of them and startling them. your quirk allows the ground to turn into clay and objects to molt into shapes you desire with a touch. the ground between you melted once you activated your quirk, but the offender is quick to stop and turn around and face shinsou instead.

“we got you cornered. please don’t resist.” shinsou says, activating his quirk at the same time. realizing that they have no other options, they sprint forwards into shinsou’s direction to make a break for it. shinsou swiftly uses his scarf to grab a hold on them but unfortunately, they’re so much quicker and are able to smoothly avoid the restraints– thanks to their feline capabilities and senses.

“shinsou!” the culprit is closing in and before shinsou can defend himself, he’s met with nothing but a soft peck on his lips. the both of you are surprised and they easily take the opportunity to escape and disappear from your sights.

“are you–” concerned, you run up to him who is still baffled and wiping his lips with his sleeve.

“fine,” he grunts. “but they got away. hopefully the police are notified by now.”

“i’m sorry, it’s my fault. i didn’t think it through.” you sigh defeatedly. “but hey, at least someone got a kiss!” you joke, eliciting an eye roll from the male.

“shut up, it’s not funny. what am i gonna write in our report? ‘got kissed by a villain’? goddamn it.”

you laugh, “it sounds romantic, though.”

a loud banging on your door suddenly interrupts you from your sleep. you glance sleepily at the clock from your bedside table– 2:24 a.m. maybe turning on sleep mode wasn’t a good idea.

you look through the peephole and open the door to a very distressed shinsou in his hoodie.

“what’s going on?” you move to the side to let him stomp in before closing the door behind you. it has only been a few hours since the incident earlier. he stays silent as he stands in the middle of the room and it kind of starts to make you feel worried. “shinsou?”

he turns around with a glare and he sighs to recollect himself, “promise me you won’t laugh.”

you blink at him once, twice. “i was in the middle of my sleep, i don’t think i’m in the mood for a joke right now.”

“promise me.”

“okay, okay. i promise!”

once he gets your word on it, he slowly pulls the hoodie down from his head– and you can’t believe what you’re seeing; shinsou now has cat ears!

“what– what’s that?!” your hand finds its way to your mouth as you try to hold in your laughter. is this a joke? was he forced to do this?

“you promised–” he pulls back the hoodie on his head to hide his new ears that hold the same shade as his hair.

“i know! but– but it’s a good look on you! you look so cute!” you start giggling and walk up to him. “oh my god, can i touch it?”

“what?! no!” shinsou steps back, protecting his new ears with his hands.

“oh, come on! you trust me with this, right? i bet i’m the first person you looked for!”

“y-yeah, but–” he stammers, “but that’s only because you were with me! i bet it was their quirk that made me like this!”

you manage to corner him to a wall and you quickly take off his hoodie to reveal his ears again that are pushing backwards as some sort of sign of defense.

“i promise i’ll be gentle.” you coax, hands already reaching up to his ears before he could answer. you scratch behind his ears like you normally do with cats and he slowly relaxes to your touch.

before he feels like he’s about to purr and humiliate himself, shinsou smacks your hand away, “cut it out.”

“why? i thought cats like that?”

“and i’m not a cat.” he looks away to hide his face, feeling like his cheeks are turning warm. “anyways, i don’t know what else it’s gonna do nor how long.”

“but we gotta tell the hero’s commission about this. i don’t know if you wanna stay over or something but i really wanna see what’ll happen tomorrow.”

“so you can laugh at me even more? when my tail shows up?” he snorts.

“pshh, no.” shinsou squints at you for a moment before you groan defeatedly, “okay, maybe?”

he rolls his eyes, “don’t mind me then.”

if your sleep last night was disturbed by knockings from the door, this morning you’re woken up by a frantic shout of your name from the living room. you quickly get out of bed to check out what’s happening.

“shinsou– oh my god!” you squeal both in amusement and shock as you notice a fluffy indigo tail coming from shinsou’s back. shinsou, however, looks beyond unamused.

“ït’s getting worse.”

“aw, shinsou.” your lips feign a pout. “you look ador– ack!” he throws a pillow at you. “fine, i’ll report this to the commission.”

“could you, maybe...” he mutters before you turn back to your room. “leave out the details? i feel embarrassed.”

you tilt your head questioningly, “but isn’t that the most important part? to find out how to undo their quirk?”

shinsou just remains quiet, his eyes staring down onto the ground. feeling as if you don’t want to make his day any worse, you comply. maybe you can find something out by the end of the day or maybe he can only hope that the quirk won’t last much longer anymore, that there should be a time limit for it like most quirks do.

you leave the room to take a quick shower and write in your report. a couple of hours pass by and you think about cooking for your guest today. shinsou is still laying on your sofa, looking very much in despair while his fluffy tail wags up and down, making you feel nothing more than mesmerized by it.

failing to fight the urge, you quietly sneak behind him and tug on his tail. the startled male turns to you annoyingly.

“at this point i just wish claws would come out so i can put a scar on you.”

“and i will throw a bucket of water in your face.” you tease. “anyways, i’m gonna cook for both of us now. you can do whatever you like. you’re a cat anyways, i can’t really tell you what to do.” he glares at you while you stride off towards the kitchen laughing.

you call out to eat once you’ve finished cooking. nothing too special, just fried rice and stirred veggies that are enough to fill your empty stomach. you’re not going to take any complaints and you’re not the best cook either but it’s the most you could do right now.

“ack!” shinsou coughs after taking the first bite of his meal and quickly gulps down some water.

you look at him dejectedly, “hey, i know my cooking isn’t that good. don’t need to rub it in my face!”

he shakes his head, “no, it’s just– i think my taste buds aren’t working well.”

“you’re just trying to make me feel better.” you scowl playfully but shinsou only chugs his drink each time he tries to put food inside his mouth. “don’t tell me you only want to eat fish now?”

“i hope i don’t. but– meow?” realizing what slips out from his mouth so casually, he puts his hand over his mouth in shock.

“meow?” you repeat.

“shit, i– meow.”

“shinsou, are you okay?” you look at him curiously.

he shakes his head again, his cat ears pushed back. when you stand up from your seat to check on him, he quickly dashes to the corner of the room and faces the wall. you carefully walk closer to him but as you are about to put your hand on his shoulder, shinsou turns around and hisses at you– his tail slightly fluffed up.

you take a step back in wary, “oh, um, okay? i’ll get you a fish? is that what you want?”

shinsou only growls lowly, his irises narrow and tail wagging in annoyance as he watches you walk back into the kitchen to get food for him.

oh boy, this is bad. he lost his speech abilities.

thankfully, you have some raw salmon in your fridge. while you wait for it to defrost, shinsou only curls up in the corner defensively. each time you try to get closer to him, he’ll either growls or hisses at you. as much as you want to be offended (he’s close to you after all), you can’t help but think it’s rather adorable to see him like this– behaving like a cat though you can see that he still has his attitude.

you then try to sway him with the fish, gently placing down the plate in front of him before he sniffs his food and crouches down to eat it without using his hands.

“that looks... so inhumane.” you sigh. “maybe i should feed you?”

you take a slice of salmon from the plate and bring it in front of his mouth in an attempt to feed him. he looks at you warily for a brief second before sniffing it again and opening his mouth to nibble on his food.

“that’s a good boy!” you giggle, reaching to pat his head but he shies away as he chews his meal. okay, he probably needs some time.

you patiently feed him until the plate is empty and give him some water to drink. you then finish up your brunch and do the dishes while shinsou lazes around on your sofa. to your surprise, shinsou is quick to warm up to you when he sits up and scoots from his seat, giving you room to sit next to him. even more surprising when he lays his head on your lap right after that. it makes your heart throb and embarrassed at the same time.

“uh...” he looks content but you’re unsure if he’d allow you to touch him. however, you decide to try your luck and begin to gently caress his hair.

shinsou flutters his eyes open at the touch and doesn’t fight back but instead his eyes slowly shuts again as he leans into your hold. his head nuzzles against your hand as you continue to stroke his hair. you take it as a sign that he has finally loosen up and you waste no time to scratch him behind the ears. over time, you can almost hear him purring on your lap. your heart squeezes in glee at the thought that shinsou finds comfort and warmth from you.

“you’re not hard to please, huh?” you chuckle as you watch the male endearingly; maybe he should just stay like this so you won’t have to put up with his smart mouth so much. you’ve heard about how cats are able to provide humans oxytocin but currently you’re not sure if it’s because he is partially a cat or because it’s shinsou himself.

the both of you stay in the position for quite a time as you idly flip through channels on the tv screen. truth be told, shinsou is the only one that feels comfortable right now. you want to move because your legs are starting to feel numb but you feel bad if you wake or move him. fortunately, you are saved by the bell when there’s a knock on the door.

shinsou’s ears perk up as his attention is drawn towards the door.

“hold on, i think i got a package.” you stand up from the sofa and head towards the door to greet the delivery man.

shinsou watches you as you stand there and engage in little unnecessary chats while you sign on the paper. the man gets excited when he recognizes you as one of the pro heroes and somehow it drags into a long conversation before he realizes that he’s running out of time and needs to deliver his packages to the other customers. with a brief handshake, he finally leaves your doorstep and you turn towards a vigilant (half) man from your sofa.

his indigo eyes narrow down at you as you walk up to him, gaze piercing through you as you find your seat next to him again.

“what?” you look at him in unease. he shifts closer to you and scrunches his nose as he takes a sniff from you and a low growl rips from his throat as if something unpleasant just flared through his nostrils. and to shinsou, it is– the scent is still you but it’s somehow tainted now and he doesn’t appreciate it.

“hey, i already took a–”

shinsou suddenly jumps on you, his hands pushing you roughly by the shoulders as his bigger and muscular build hovers over you. your heartbeat is running a mile once your eyes are locked with his. you hung around him a lot before and there were some unintentional brush of the hands here and there, but this is probably the closest you two have been and you’re starting to feel nervous.

“shinsou? c-cut it out.” you whimper but the male doesn’t budge at all and instead his lazy eyes just continue to bore into yours.

if only you have a water quirk, you probably would spray his face by now.

once shinsou’s grip softens, you try to wriggle away. however, he leans down closer to you and stops an inch away from your face. you want to brace yourself for what’s to come but you have no idea what to expect either, but there’s an unshakeable feeling inside you that wishes to feel his soft lips on yours. you blush at the thought– you probably shouldn’t feel such way towards your colleague and especially when this is the work of the criminal’s quirk, you should keep this professional and not let your personal feelings be involved.

however, your little wish is granted.

your eyes almost go out of their sockets when shinsou gently presses his lips onto yours so tenderly. you can see that the absurd fury he had has subsided and he turns rather calm as a soft sigh escapes from him. slowly, your own eyes close as you give in to the kiss.

it feels all too quick before he pulls away and gazes at you with those half-lidded eyes. it’s a dreamy sight and you just want to pull him back but you notice that his ears are slowly disappearing.

he blinks a few times before letting reality finally hit him and realizing the compromising position the both of you are in. a tinge of pink creeps on his cheeks and he quickly pushes himself off of you.

“your ears and tail are gone!” you squeal, voice masking the dread inside you that he’s back to normal but you’re also glad that the quirk has worn off.

“thank god.” he sighs. he tries to remember the details of how he even got on top of you but nothing pops in his mind. he might have the slightest idea but he doesn’t want to believe it. the thought of it makes his ears and cheeks burn hotter. even if he did kiss you, he doesn’t want it to be like that– not when he’s under a damn quirk.

“do you remember what happened?”

“the last thing i remember is when we’re having brunch.” he murmurs, still trying to put one and one together.

“oh, boy. you should’ve seen yourself! you suddenly started acting like a–”

“listen. you are to forget what just happened.” he cuts you off immediately.

he’s so used to putting up a stoic attitude around people. he always deliberately tried to look cool especially around you and made sarcastic remarks to annoy you but that was one of his confusing ways to express his liking to you. and now the fact that he might have looked so vulnerable in front of you, it’s just too humiliating.

“but–”

maybe this time, shinsou thinks it’s okay to finally use his quirk on you.

#shinsou hitoshi #hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinso x you #shinso x reader #shinsou x you #shinsou x reader #shinsou fluff #bnha fluff #my hero academia fluff #shinsou fic #shinsou #mha fluff #r; writes #pro hero shinsou

167 notes · View notes

ffakc · 4 years ago

Text

Pony - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

I’ve always wanted to write a story from JDM’s POV, especially when it comes to eating 🐱, because I imagine he’d be really good at it. I also got really lost in this when writing it and got insanely turned on, so I hope y’all feel the same way!

@negans-attagirl @happysgal @iluvneganandjamie @mrsnegan

I had grown out my beard for the newest season of The Walking Dead. Negan was going to be in prison for the next year, so I had to look the part. I also hate shaving, so this was my dream come true. I was also promoting my new movie Rampage with my buddy Dwayne. Dwayne Johnson, that is.

My gal also loved the long, grayness of it all. She had been texting me flirty things all day from the hotel room and it was absolutely driving me wild. It’s damn near impossible to do press junkets with a raging hard on.

“Reading the script, this is exactly the movie I’ve always wanted to-“ my phone pings loudly, “Aw, shit. I’m sorry, man. I meant to turn my phone on silent. Cut!” I joke and glance at the text from my Princess: I want to ride your beard like a pony, Daddy. I exhale loudly and shove my phone in my pocket.

“You good, homie?” Dwayne asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks! Just family stuff,” I reply. My pants were painfully tight in the crotch at this point. “Anyway, where were we?” I place my glasses on top of my head. “It’s just one of those classic popcorn flicks, you know?”

The interview seemed to drag on as my phone silently buzzed with filthy messages and pictures. What a dirty girl I had.

***

“What the fuck was that?” I smile at my gal. She looks adorable in my hoodie and her short shorts.

“Did I do something?” she replies, feigning innocence as she slides her legs between mine, running a finger over my lips and kissing me. My breath quavers as she moans into my mouth.

“Teasing Daddy while he’s trying to work. Bad, bad girl,” I groan as she grips my balls gently as she nibbles my neck. She reaches into her back pocket and I hear a jingling sound. A puzzled expression takes over my face, “What do you have there, Princess?”

“Since you’re going to prison for the next year,” she giggles and pulls a pair of handcuffs from behind her, “Maybe you should get used to wearing these bad boys.”

“You think you’re in charge, hm? Might I remind you who your Daddy is-“ I smirk. She grips my throat, cutting me off by making me lose my breath.

“I’m in charge tonight,” she growls. “Lay on the bed, Daddy. Flat on your back, come on,” she commands, snapping her fingers.

“Yes, Mistress,” I do as I’m told. My gal meant business. I look up at her as she walks around the bed.

“Good boy. Don’t move,” she praises. She strips her clothes, revealing a skimpy, crotchless number. I hold out my hand to pull her into a lustful kiss. “I said, ‘don’t move’. Did you not hear me?” Her stern tone sends a chill down my spine. She sucks my finger and throws my hand back on the bed. I giggle like a little kid, her dominant streak was amusing. This role reversal was going to be fun. “Is something funny, Jeffrey Dean? Take your shirt off.” I follow her orders and she grabs my arm and cuffs one hand to the headboard, then the other. She pulls my glasses off, folding them and placing them on the nightstand.

“You sound like my mother,” I smirk.

“Oh, so I’m ‘Mommy’ now?” she bites her lip, trying not to laugh and stay in character. I glance at my cuffed hands.

“What are you going to do, baby gi- I mean, Mistress?” I ask. She leans down and laps around my nipples. I suck my teeth, god that felt good.

“I’m going to make you my fuck toy tonight,” she moans in my ear. She climbs on the bed, straddling my chest. I could feel the slickness of her dripping pussy, leaving a small damp spot in my chest hair. “If it’s too much, just tap my thigh hard three times”. I felt like I was about to bust out of my jeans, but she made it clear I only existed for her pleasure. I felt more submissive than I ever have in bed with her and it was so fucking hot.

“Baby doll, I don’t think I could ever get enough of your pussy,” I moan. She inched closer to my face. My breath was hot against her inner folds, giving her chills. “I’m ready,” I murmur. She smelled utterly scrumptious. The Tommy Hilfiger perfume coupled with her salty, sweet wetness was intoxicating. She pressed my head between her deliciously thick thighs as she rocked against my mouth. I wanted so bad to squeeze her ass to bring her closer, but I wasn’t allowed.

“Jeffrey,” she whimpers my name. I’m lost in a sea of bliss. I love making her feel like the goddess she is. “Your beard feels so fucking good. Oh Daddy!” I smirk and go back to work. I circle my tongue around her clit, sucking it between my lips. She grasps my hair as my head gets squished a little tighter. I chuckle softly to myself, I know that means I’m doing my job right. I lick a stripe from her entrance to her precious jewel. “God, your gray hair drives me insane,” her hips rock faster and I try to match her movements with my mouth.

“Does it now? You love that I’m old enough to be your dad? You love with age comes,” I kiss around her drenched inner lips, “Experience. You love that I take care of you, don’t you, Princess? Daddy loves you.”

“Fuck yes, baby. Oh my god!” her thighs begin to tremble and the familiar throbbing sensation begins like a faint drumbeat from deep inside her walls. I squirm beneath her, wanting release so bad, but I’m not allowed. “Please let me cum, Jeff! Please!”

“You’re in charge, remember?”

“Jeff, I’m going to drown you in my-“

“Fucking drown me, doll. I won’t waste a single drop. God, you taste so sweet.“

“Jeffrey!” my gal screamed out as her juices soaked my beard. I lap my tongue like someone who hadn’t drank water in weeks. She shakily slides down my chest, grabbing the key from the nightstand. She unlocks the handcuffs and collapses onto my chest. I pull her into a kiss.

“Making you feel good,” I say in between kisses, “Makes me feel good. I would go wash my face, but tasting you in my mustache turns me on all over again. You sure have a yummy little treat there, sugar. I love the shit out of you.”

“I love you too,” my gal is still catching her breath.

#denny duquette #fanfic #fanfiction #greys anatomy #jeffrey dean morgan #negan #the walking dead #older man younger woman #john winchester #supernatural

117 notes · View notes

fotiathymos · 3 years ago

Text

Idk if I'll ever draw the Gueira and Meis prequel story comic I have in my head but here have snippets I wrote of it and tell me if it's any good lol

uh warning its kinda long, three separate moments and not written like a book as I am more so plotting out how I’d draw it or envision things. Also has a lot of Gueira crying. Like he’s always crying. I’m sorry Gueira.

Meis grumbles and ups the volume on their music. Staring into their mirror, make up dark and black and bad. Angry singing along with a brush comb and then using the same comb to tease at their hair violently. Hair visibly comes out. Their bedroom window bursts open due to the wind. Meis jumps, startled.

The dust storm is rolling by hard and Meis notices the stable door open in the backyard. Their eyes go wide and quickly climb out their bedroom window running towards it.

(Continue in color)

Meis runs inside the stable closing the doors behind them and the storm gets worse. They glance around and count three horses, Ophelia is outside of her stall yet everything else seems fine. They sigh with relief. Meis walk over to Ophelia. "Did you open the doors again cause you were nervous?" Meis pats the horse's nose. Their hand leaves a dust print on the horse. Meis crouches down to look at themselves in a mirror nearby thats leaning on the floor.

Meis is covered in dust and their hair and make up all messed up. They grumble a bit and smudge their eyeliner down their cheek.

Through the mirror Meis sees a foot from behind them poking out of a hay stack.

Meis bolts up. Their first instinct is to kick the hay, hard.

Gueira screams. Followed by Meis screaming. Every single horse starts acting up.

They both are screaming at eachother at the same time.

Meis, "Who are you?! How'd you get here? Get ya fuck out of here!!"

Gueira, "Wait! Wait! Please don't kill me! I can't stand up! They kidnapped me! I had no where to go!"

Ophelia is pushing herself to get in front of Meis. Meis steps aside and the horse goes right for Gueira. Gueira lights his hands on fire and reaches out, "Please no!" Ophelia panics backwards. Meis gets in front of her this time. Gueira's still lying on the floor with his hands aflame, he doesn't attack.

"You’re fuckin’ Burnish! You stupid Burnish! Everything here is flammable don't even fuckin’ dare!" Meis screams and suddenly Gueira has a bucket of liquid tossed on him. His flames don't go out but are duller. He hugs his legs to himself and the light glow of flames surround his body. "I'm.. I'm not in control of this. But I.. won't.. I won't burn the place down.." he stumbles over his words as his body shakes.

Meis stops and takes a better look at Gueira and sees how distressed he is. They calm down Ophelia then look back towards Gueira.

"You're just a kid."

Gueira sniffles, “I’m not a kid!” The flames brighten.

“How old are you?”

“Just turned 16.″

“Thats a toddler. How’d a toddler get into my backyard?”

“I don’t need this from someone looking like that!” Gueira motions to Meis, still covered in dust, half teased hair, shirt torn and barely on and smeared make up. “How old are you?!”

“Gonna be 17 in two weeks.”

“Also toddler!” Gueira points and grins at Meis, his flames disappear for a moment.

“I’m pretty much an adult!” Meis waves their hands in the air. Then stomps a foot towards Gueira. “And you still haven’t answered me!” Ophelia acts up again as Meis is yelling again. Gueira recedes back, nervous.

“Please don’t call Freeze Force on me..” Gueira hugs his legs and hides his face.

“You’re in the wrong place then kid. My pa is training in Freeze Force.”

Gueira’s head shoots up, eyes wide.

Meis plops a seat down next to him. “I’ll hide you for the night though.” Meis leans their arm on their knee and rests their head on their arm. Eyeing Gueira carefully.

Gueira stares at Meis, tears forming but trying not to cry again. “Seriously?”

“I’m not gonna call the feds on a kid.” Meis pulls the nearby mirror close and starts fixing themselves up. “You're lucky my pa didn't catch ya, you'dve been swiss cheese.”

Gueira hides his face into his legs and arms again. “Can you just help me get home.. I don’t recognize any of this place.”

“Sure. Probably for the best you head out after the storm. It gets extra hot after a sandstorm passes ‘round here, even at night. Where you live?”

“Uh, near the Liberty apartments.. maybe you could just point me to a bus or I could hitch hike.. somehow.” Gueira is talking into his arms.

“...I don’t know of that apartment building. Most places near here are just horse people’s homes.”

“...horses?” Gueira’s head peeks out.

Meis points at Ophelia. “That?”

“I know what a horse is!” He glares at Meis. His expression softens as he looks down towards the foor. “Am I not in Miami?”

“Miami?” Meis stops what theyre doing and whip their head towards Gueira.

“Yeah!” Gueira looks happy.

“You mean like Florida?” Meis’ expression is really confused.

“Yeah?” Gueira looks concerned.

“You’re in Texas, kid.” Meis finishes fixes themselves up and pushed the mirror away. Gueira is silent for a moment.

“...how?” Gueira looks back at the ground again.

“I should be asking you that.” Meis pulls out a cigarette and lights it. “You ran from the Foundation real far you got lost, huh?” Meis takes a drag and doesn’t look too concerned till suddenly Gueira’s shaking again. Meis lowers his cigarette. “What.. happened to you, kid?”

Gueira squeezes hard on his own legs. “They...they just bagged my head and threw me in a van. I didn’t know where they were taking me. They talked about the other city states but.. but how'd I get into the middle of the Burnish desert lands..”

Meis frowns. “We’re not in the middle of the Burnish desert lands. we’re in human civilization.”

Gueira starts crying again and leans back towards the hay. His flames grow. Meis panics and grabs Gueira away from the haystack.

“Can you stop that!” Meis grips onto Gueira’s shoulders. “You are surrounded by tinder!”

“I won’t burn things! I swear!” Gueira yells back at Meis through his tears.

“You’re currently on fire!”

“And you’re not burnt are you!?” Gueira screams it this time. Flames spark off him. Yet Meis is still unharmed. Meis finally notices how they’re grabbing Gueira and the flames are on their arms as well.

“See!” Gueira grabs Meis’ hands. “I’m not some monster, please. I’m just... just a kid.. like you said.” Gueira stutters through tears more. Lets go of Meis’ hand and falls backwards into the hay. The hay is unaffected as the flames around Gueira’s body persist. Gueira goes back to hugging his knees and crying. “Please don’t turn me in.. I just.. I didn’t want this.. I..”

“Okay, Okay hey!”, Meis moves towards Gueira. They hesitate reaching out towards him. Then Meis touches Gueira’s shoulder again. They take a moment to register how the flames aren’t hurting. Gueira’s still crying and hiding his face. Meis then grabs Gueira’s other shoulder and pulls him into a hug. Gueira’s surprised.

“I’m not turning you in. I promise, okay. You can stay here as long as you need.” the focus is on Gueira’s face as his scared eyes soften and he hugs Meis back, tightening his grip and starts sobbing into Meis’ arms.

---------

Both of them are laying on the stable floor, smoking lazily. Meis is letting Ophelia nibble at their hair.

Gueira takes a drag on his cigarette and coughs it up violently. Meis laughs a little. Gueira huffs, "You know,” cough “I always thought it funny how my parents can.." .....he sighs.... "..could look at me and not see I'm gay."

Meis ignores the hidden implications in Gueira's words. "Heh. My family sees me all the time looking like this and still thinks I'm a cis male."

Gueira shifts to face Meis and takes another drag of his cigarette, blows out smoke properly. Meis looks a little proud. "Yeah but you don't know what you are anyway." Gueira picks Meis' hair out of Ophelia's mouth.

Meis ponders a moment.

"I'm.. I'm an unlit match in a haystack. Full of potential to destroy it all but stifled and buried alive."

Gueira raises an eyebrow "Poetic. Is that a song lyrics of yours?"

Meis laughs, "Hoho-noooo. You think I'm that kind of song writer?"

"It's just... if you keep talking like that you'll catch the Burnish from me." Gueira snickers and puts out his cigarette on the barn floor.

Meis smiles falters, "I always thought those things weren't human. I mean.. not that you're a thing. Or not human.." Meis turns to Gueira now. "You can't catch the Burnish.. right??"

Gueira smirks "Come closer and find out for yourself."

Meis flicks Gueira's nose.

"Oooowwwwwwyyeeeee"

Meis puts out their cigarette and stands up, dusting off themselves. "I better get back before Pa comes pounding on the barn door looking for me." Meis kisses Ophelia on the nose and pats Guiera's head, ruffling his hair. Gueira doesn't bother to fix his hair and mutters under his breathe "fuck that guy"

Meis pulls a match out of their pocket and flicks it into a nearby haystack. Gueira rolls his eyes at the gesture, unamused.

---------

Gueira's talking fast and stifling sobs. "It's so lonely and so crowded. It's feels like my head is inside a fire. Numbing and loud. These voices just talk constantly, scream at me to burn. Burn. Burn. Burn. They’re real. They’re my thoughts. But I don’t like them. And I don’t want them to be real.. I.. I understand why the Foundation wants me. But what do they want with me.. why did they choose me. They make me want to burn you alive, Meis." He sniffs and Meis seems unfazed at the concept.

" ..just consume you.. in all of this fire.. all the flames in me."

Meis reaches out to grab Gueira's hand. They're both still not looking at each other. Just staring at the barn on the floor.

"I'm an unlit match in a haystack, Guiera. Maybe I just need to be set aflame."

Gueira starts crying harder. "You don't want this.. you really fucking don't."

Meis drops Gueira's hand and grabs his face to look at him sternly. They’re both facing each other now. "You don't speak for me. I could be a Burnish!"

Between sobs "You don't need this."

"Burn."

"Stop it"

"Burn for me Guiera."

"Shut up"

"Burn me alive"

Gueira pushes away and stands up. "Stop it! Stop it! You don't want this! You don't need this burden! It's useless! It's just trouble! It's just crying and running away and ..and.. I could get you snatched up and killed! Why do you even care about me!!"

Meis slowly stands up. "So we're not talking about the fire anymore, huh?"

Gueira's tears are little fires. He's shaking and trying to hold himself by wrapping his arms around his body in a grip. Legs wobbly and feet shifting to try and stay standing up. Meis doesn't approach him. A gentle smile appears on their face and they reach out a hand.

"Burn."

Gueira closes his eyes tight and suddenly bursts into flames. The flames stay around Gueira’s body and don’t spread.

“Breathe in the fire for me, Gueira!” Meis holds out their arms. “Burn properly!”

“It burns my throat!”

“Scream!”

“I can’t! I’ll really explode!” Gueira opens his eyes to look at Meis. Meis looks excited.

"Burn this whole barn down!" Meis’ eyes are wide and is grinning big.

"You're losing it too now. You're not even Burnish and you're a pyromaniac." Gueira looks concerned for Meis.

"You think I care about this place?" Meis’ laugh is almost evil.

"You care about Ophelia! I'm not gonna burn her house down just cause I'm being whiney and having a break down! You sound like them. Don’t make the voices in my head external! You shouldn’t encourage this!” Gueira’s yelling and the flames aren’t stopping. His hands are in fists and close to his chest, holding back.

Meis walks up to Gueira and puts a hand on his cheek. Their voice is calmer now. “You need to actually let it all out. You need to burn or it’s all going to eat you up inside. Just scream and burn all your fears away.”

Gueira’s eyes shut tight. His hands open up and to his sides as flames burst around him. Two flame like horns are above his head. He screams. His eyes are enflamed and he glares at Meis, smacking Meis’ hand off his face.

“You want fire?!” Gueira practically growls and smoke comes out his mouth. Meis is smiling big. “I hate you Meis. I can’t stand this fucking barn. I smell of horse shit.” He’s throwing flames with every sentence. Meis doesn’t move away still. Gueira’s anger starts leaning into his sadness. “I can't just be lazy around here forever on you. Just because I'm scared. Just because I’m so fucking scared!” Gueira roars flames. “I always felt so fucking useless and lazy. I was always a burden on somebody. And I ruined everything for my family, their hopes, their dreams, all their money went to their goddamn useless hospital child. I ruined everything for them! I ruined my own dreams! I can’t even kick a fucking football!” Gueira’s sobbing. “I already lost everything. I can't.. I can't even have you, Meis. When I know this will all be lost too."

------

ono/

#boop merps #uh uh do i put in the tags #im gonna #promare #guiemei #guiemeis #idk ship names bro im tired and hungry #my ideas are too big for my hands and full time job so if anything #you got this at least #even if i dont make comic #or whatever it is i end up making

21 notes · View notes

youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years ago

Text

A Grave Life Part Sixty Four

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone has a good week 💖 Warnings: ….Angst. My bad. (Again) Summary: Something about it had sounded familiar, but it seemed so distant— like hearing a song that you knew by heart muffled and muddled, from another room.

“Take your time,” I let him steer me into a chair, shook a little as he patted my shoulder, waved him off as he apologized. He nipped off to the kitchen; I vaguely registered the sounds of him moving around— making tea if I had to guess. His reappearance a few minutes later with a mug of earl grey and a plate of toast confirmed at least some of my suspicions.

I had been good at guesswork once— hadn’t I?

“...What’s the last thing you remember?” The man asked. I lifted my eyes to him warily.

Thomas, he’d told me his name was— Thomas Pembrooke. Something about it had sounded familiar, but it seemed so distant— like hearing a song that you knew by heart muffled and muddled, from another room. I was disinclined to believe him, considering the way he’d found me, but he’d shown me a picture: one of myself, himself, someone he’d called his wife, Matilda, and someone he’d called Percival.

Those names had sounded familiar, too. I took my time in answering his question, taking a sip from the mug of tea. It was piping hot, scalded my tongue a little, but I preferred that to answering too hastily.

“Before I answer that, Thomas, I… Must ask you something.”

“Of course.”

“...May I have your wand, please?”

Thomas’ brow furrowed.

“You don’t have your own?”

I gave a small shake of my head, mumbling, “Seem to have misplaced it.”

Thomas reached into his pocket slowly, wary as he passed the piece over. I took hold of it just as gingerly, careful not to make any sudden movements that might alarm him. I stood, walking over to the door and raising it, murmuring a revealing charm. Then I stepped back, opened the door, and waved him out.

“Just— step out and back in, please.”

Thomas stood slowly, still watching me with trepidation. I held his wand back out to him, handle-first.

“I won’t close the door,” I promised, “I just need to see something.”

Thomas nodded as he took his wand back before he stepped out of the apartment. He made a show of turning around slowly, meeting my eyes, and stepping back in.

Nothing. No change, no trickling transformation from head-to-foot.

That was the last thing that I remembered: a man pointing to the front door, repeating the charm name as a question— and then a sinister smile overtaking his face as I reached for my wand.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, shutting the door behind him.

“...Might I ask what that was for?” Thomas asked.

“I… Fought with someone. That’s the last thing I remember before things go all,” I waved toward my head, “Fuzzy. I don’t remember… What happened, or when, or—”

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know. I don't know his name, just what he looked like.”

Thomas nodded, gesturing back toward the living room. I sat back down at my appointed place, picking up one of the pieces of toast and nibbling on the end.

“You’ve uh… You’ve thrown some things into quite the tizzy while you’ve been fuzzy,” Thomas informed me, picking up a newspaper and holding it out to me. I took hold of it, eyes scanning the page before landing where Thomas was pointing: Graves and Sweetie Break Engagement!

My brow furrowed at the name.

“...Graves,” I mumbled softly, eyeing the picture of the imposing man beside the article, “...He was in the other picture you showed me, wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” Thomas nodded, “He’s your fiancé— Or, was.”

“Why did you come looking for me?”

“A mutual friend reached out— Queenie. Does that… No?”

I shook my head. The name wasn’t familiar at all.

“Well,” Thomas pressed on, grimacing, “She’s been worried, and she has not been able to get into contact with you.”

“For how long?”

“A few weeks.”

“Weeks,” I mumbled, “That makes no sense. I’ve been exactly where I was meant to be— working as a librarian in Brooklyn, at the Schermerhorn branch.”

Thomas’ brow furrowed, shaking his head, “The Schermerhorn branch has been closed since ‘21.”

It was my turn to shake my head. Now that I was out of it, now that I was coming back to myself, my memories of my everyday life for the last few weeks were beginning to fade, too.

“How did you find me?”

“I uh—” He cleared his throat, “Well, Matilda, before she...She left for work, she mentioned that you’d taken to carrying mints in this old cigarette case from a case you worked before— and she still had the map— hang on,” Thomas stood, walking back to the kitchen. He returned a moment later, unfolding it and laying it across the coffee table.

I could see a couple of dots labeled with a date and time.

“What are those?”

“That’s you. You and ‘Tilda—” His breath seemed to catch in his throat after he said her name, “You configured this to send up a sort’a signal when the map’s open. Quite a tricky piece of kit, too,” He smiled sadly, “She spent days testing it out on my sketchbooks, pencils.”

I was quiet as I turned back down to the map.

“Anyway,” Thomas cleared his throat, “I started at your apartment— tried to. I couldn’t apparate in like we used to. Once I got in, well, it was in a bad way. Things thrown everywhere, furniture flipped, like someone was looking for something. You’ve been staying at some boarding house, taking daily trips to the abandoned library branch, stopping for meals at an automat here,” Thomas pointed to each of the places on the map. Only the last two were demarcated by dates and times.

I hummed, thoughtful, and leaned back, the newspaper crumpling in my lap.

“You should rest,” Thomas said softly, “You uh— you may remember more in the morning, as the charm wears off. I can take the couch out there— The boarding house you’ve been in hasn’t been the best, so I’m insisting that you take the bed. I’ll, um… Let me see what clothes you could sleep in, excuse me,” He muttered, standing and leaving the room. I glanced after him before I looked down at the newspaper again.

Maybe something else would jog my memory?

I turned the newspaper pages, skimming articles and ads.

Noel Coward’s This Was a Man premiered on Broadway; an ad for Dommik Killoran’s robe shop—

I froze at the sight of a photo.

“Um— This may be a little big, it’s one of mine—… What is it?” Thomas asked, taking in my confused expression.

“This man,” I pointed to the newspaper, “Who is this man?”

Thomas grimaced, “Grindelwald. A dark wizard. He’s been gaining power. That's who Matilda—”

“That’s him. That’s the man I fought.”

Thomas rounded the couch, stunned.

“It can’t be—”

“It was, I know it,” I insisted.

Thomas plopped onto the couch beside me, stunned.

“Grindelwald...In New York,” He mumbled, voice quivering, “And what on Earth would he charm you for?” Tag list: @myplaceofheavenorhell ; @britishfajita ; @terrainhead ; @thatkidofwarandpeace ; @rvgrsbrns ; @maaaaryx ; @remmyswritings ; @flostvs1508 ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo ; @paintballkid711 ; @knightsimp; @hypnobananaangelfish ; @tardis-23

#A Grave Life #percival graves x reader #percival graves imagine #Percival Graves/You #Percival Graves/Reader #Percival Graves x You #Percival Graves fic

49 notes · View notes

impala1967dwinchester · 4 years ago

Text

Sam Winchester: Glasses

*Credit to gif owner*

Pairing: Sam W. X Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings: Sam because he’s always a warning, the reader fantasizing about Sam, implied smut, the reader has a crush on Sam, Sam playing clueless, little tiny mention of Dean, Dom!Sam, Sub!Reader

Summary: When Sam brings his glasses out to be able to read the lore, the reader does nothing but stare at him.

Word Count: 1.5k

Main Masterlist

Talist: @sweetdetectivequeen

We’ve sat here a million times. Sitting looking over the same lore books, trying to find anything helpful for a hunt. A million times I sat with my nose stuck in the book, and I couldn’t care less if the bunker was burning down.

Just sitting here and reading through lore was enough for me. It was enough, but it was all I was going get from Sam. I don’t think Sam knows what kind of effect he truly does have on me.

That look when he thinks he has found something, or when he comes back from one of his mornings runs. The slight sweat lays across his skin. The way his eyes have so many different shades to them.

Like after a hunt they are dark brown, the adrenaline still running through his veins, his chest rising and falling fast as he tries to catch his breath. At the bunker, at home sweet home, his eyes shined bright green like the color jade.

When we are all sitting together drinking and talking about the best parts of our pasts, or even basking in the glory that we’ve saved the world just a few times. Sam's eyes turn this magnificent shade of teal. They glimmered as he’d laugh, his huge smile only dragging me in more.

Like I said millions of times we’ve sat around each other in almost complete silence. This time... this time I wasn’t ready for the shock of what Sam was pulling.

Sam had gotten up from the library table the chair scratching the floor as he pushed back. I didn’t do anything besides bring my gaze up to look up at him. He looked over at me, smiling, and then walked out of the library.

Wondering where he was going, I stayed seated. If Sam had found something helpful, he would have made a scene about it. He wouldn’t have just gotten up and said nothing.

Regardless I continued reading. Going over the same material, I wasn’t entirely sure anymore what we were looking for. I needed to stretch anyways, so I got up from my seat. Pushing my chair in, I reached up and stretched my arms.

I heard the harsh pound of boots on the bunker floors. I reached down to touched my socked covered toes. My ass on a full show for anyone who was to walk into the bunker's library.

I heard the harsh sound of the boots on the floor until I didn’t, looking between my legs as I continued to stretched. There was Sam staring at me, with an eyebrow raised as to ask me a question.

I wasn’t uncomfortable about my current position; I was more worried about what was on Sam face. “What are you doing, Y/n?” Sam asked coming over to the library table to sit back down.

I took that as my signal to stop stretching and go back to my seat. I was trying to find my words, my mouth opening and closing. “Are you okay over there?” Sam asked.

Stop asking me so many questions....

Actually, don’t stop, please keep talking. Damn I could listen to your voice over again. You could be yelling at me, or soothing me after a bad hunt. Just keep talking please Sam.

“I was just... umm stretching my back was starting to hurt.” I spoke. “You look like you were having a hard time reading.” I said pointing towards Sam's face. He crossed his eyes in a silly fashion and then started to take them off setting them on the table.

“Look don’t make fun me, i get that enough from Dean. But I used to wear these when I was doing research at law school. Not to mention I am not getting any younger.” Sam said spinning his glasses in his hands and then putting them back on.

“We should back to work don’t you say.” Sam said opening the lore book back up. It went to being dead silent. I scooted my chair closer to the table cracking my neck getting ready to read all over again.

This pattern went on for a while. Sam and I would stop for a few moments talk about something, or get something from the kitchen, I’d stretch. It was a comfortable pattern.

We’d sat back down, but this time when I opened my current lore book, I couldn’t stop from staring at Sam. HIs hand gliding through his hair and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

I clinched my thighs together, pushing back of the chair. Trying to brace myself. Sam is just so damn hot. I don’t think he knows it either.

I watched as his eyes grew wide and his face lite up, his hand coming up to take his glasses off and putting the end of his glasses between his lips. Then a smile crossed his face, Sam looked up at me.

“Come over here. I think I found it!” Sam said

I got up and walked over to Sam seat and was hesitate to out my hand on his shoulder, but I didn’t have time to think because Sam was already talking. The problem was I wasn’t listening, I was daydreaming.

Sam scent filling my nose, and the thought of my hand landing on his shoulder feeling the pull of muscle. My hands on his body. God all I want is his hands on me please. All I want is for Sam is pull me into his lap, his lump kissable lips on mine. I want to Sam to take me on this library table. I want our clothes spread across the room.

I want the fear of being caught. I want so much to just be with Sam. Do I tell him? Will that just make things weird? Will I overstep a boundary? That I don’t even know exist.

“Y/n? Did you hear me?” Sam said puling me from dirty questionable thoughts. “Umm. I’m be honest no.” I said starting to walk away from Sam back to my side of the table. But of course, before I was able to step away from Sam. His hand was around my wrist pulling me into him.

Specifically, into Sam's lap. “Oh shit, I didn’t... I’m sorry.” Sam stuttered. “It’s fine Sam. Just let go of my wrist.” I said forcing myself to get up. “Wait... What’s going on?” Sam asked worry in his voice. “Nothing is wrong Sam.” I said trying to end the conversation.

“Y/n... Y/n all you’ve done today has been quiet. You may not think that you being secretive but I caught you staring multiply time just today. So, explain it to me? Because it seems like someone has a crush on me.” Sam said as he stiffened puffing his chest out.

I was at a lost for word, stuck in the spot that I was standing in. “See the no words tells me everything I need to know. Maybe you should have just asked me if I like you.” Sam said starting to get up from the chair. I shallowed hard. I could feel his body pressed hard against mine.

Clinching my thighs together as another imagine went past in my brain. With the rest of my confidence, I leaned my head back against Sam right collar bone. “Okay then, I like you Sam. I have for a while. You have realized though...” I said, but was cut off by a passionate kiss.

It was as if Sam was waiting much longer then me to kiss. His tongue intruding my mouth, we battled for dominance and eventually I let Sam win. His tongue explored, his hands reaching around and landing on my hips, grinding me back into Sam's strong and board figure.

Pulling from my lips, Sam bit slightly on my bottom lips and let it pop back. Whispering into my ear. “Can you feel that?” I hummed and clinched my thighs together. “You know you kinda have a horrible poker face. You let all those fantasy play over your face. Don’t think I can’t feel when you clinch your thighs together.” Sam said moving his other to hold my rib cage.

Getting the little bit of courage, I had left, I whimpered out. “Can we go to your room. I’m really hoping this isn’t a dream right now.” I heard Sam grunt, and then I felt his tongue lick a strip up on my outer ear, nibble afterwards.

“We can go wherever you want Baby girl. Wouldn’t want someone to catch now would you.” He spoke spinning me around, so we were facing each other. “Just to clarify, I like you, and you like me? And this isn’t a one-time thing either?” I asked as Sam rubbing his much larger hands up and down my sides.

For just a split second I saw a different side of Sam. “Yes, to your first question, and of course. Because I don’t think I want to kiss anyone else besides you. And if I’m thinking right, I’ll fall in love with the rest of your body.” Sam said leaning forward for another kiss, but this one was slow and more precious.

I heard the sound of the book slam. “Let’s go because I’m pretty sure these clothes aren’t going to come off by themselves.” I said winking and smirking. “Baby girl, you read my mind.” Sam said smirking and picking me up my legs wrapping around his hips.

Completed on: 04/09/2021

#sammy #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam fluff #fluff #supernatualfluff #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #samwearingglasses #samneedingglasses #cuteness #implied smut

113 notes · View notes

bucketslutz · 4 years ago

Text

Godspeed

Summary: You've been working as Marcus Moreno's assistant for years, but during all this time you've also been hopelessly in love with him. You're unsure if he feels the same way, but as of late you've been catching him stare at you. He's said things that have seemed to have an ulterior definition and it's made you suspicious of his feelings. When a pipe bursts in your apartment, leaving your home unlivable while it's being renovated, Marcus invites you to stay with him and Missy till it's fixed. Will you fold and finally confess your feelings for him?

You can read Godspeed on AO3 here.

Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, Marcus takes reader’s v-card, fluff, domestic-ish, AFAB reader, bisexual reader.

If Marcus was good at one thing, it was making your job a million times harder than it needed to be. He didn’t do it on purpose, he just tended to be more forgetful than you’d expected someone of his reputation to be. Whether it’d be meetings with the Heroics, grocery shopping, or even Missy’s parent teacher conferences, everything always managed to slip his mind. You suppose it is your job to keep track of all these things for him, remind him, and make sure he stays on top of all of his responsibilities. When he hired you, you were still a junior in college and his wife had passed away only a year prior. You didn’t expect that you’d be using your BA in international relations to be babysitting a grown man, but you don’t mind. He pays you substantially and he’s taught you so much over the years. You’re thankful that he even considered you for the job, the leader of the Heroics, when you’re far from interesting yourself. But he’s always been so kind and patient with you. Your first day you were fumbling over everything; you spilled coffee on his white button up, you accidentally packed Missy a peanut butter sandwich in her school lunch when she has a severe peanut allergy (luckily Marcus had glanced inside the unzipped lunchbox and swiftly threw it away), and you forgot to go grocery shopping that day. You hid inside the half bath off of the living room and cried from the stress, feeling like an absolute and complete fuck-up. Marcus knocked ever-so-gently on the door and you choked out a measly “I’m fine. Be out soon,” as a response. He didn’t buy it, obviously as he heard your sniffling from down the hall, and opened the door with a concerned look on his face. You were sitting on the floor, absolutely spent from the emotionally exhausting day. He got down with you and comforted you, talked you down from the breakdown and explained that he knew his schedule will take some time to get used to, but you’re a capable and strong individual who will catch on quickly.

“Cariña, I’m not disappointed in you. Mistakes will happen, you’ve gotta break a few eggs sometimes to make an omelette,” he told you with a wink, which caused you to snort at his very dad-ish remark; at that point, you had already forgotten about all the things you screwed up that day and was ready to start fresh tomorrow. And he was right, you caught on quickly. He’d begun saying a million times how life has seemed to have gotten easier since you entered it. You could’ve sworn there was a glint of something behind his eyes when he’d say it, maybe admiration, respect, perhaps even love. But you’d brush it off with a modest smile, trying to soften the weight of his words by saying you’re just doing what you’re being paid to do. He’d shake his head, trying his best to make you understand how much you’ve impacted his life. But you’re not used to someone insisting you deserve more respect than you give yourself, and Marcus showers you in praise every single day. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the compliments flattering, especially coming from someone like him. You’ve always found him very attractive, even before you started working for him. A lot of your friends in college would tease you about it, not finding him nearly as charismatic as Miracle Guy, but you stuck to your guns. You’d hoped that when you met him you wouldn’t be disappointed, praying that he was just as kind in person as he appeared to be on the news. But now that you know him, he’s more than kind...he’s considerate, caring, patient, and a wonderful father. You’re beyond lucky to have met someone like him. He’s changed your life for the better, and you’ll never stop being grateful for his generosity. He makes it too easy to fall in love with him; his warm smile, chocolate brown eyes, his dad jokes. You even love the parts of him that wouldn’t necessarily be that interesting to anyone else, yet they are to you; the way he eats sandwiches by nibbling all the crust off of the sides then working his way to the middle in a circular pattern, or the way he hates to make his bed because he’s “just going to get back in it at the end of the day anyways,” or how he sometimes takes a minute to get a joke in a movie or TV show and will laugh for way longer than he needs to. You’ve been hopelessly in love with him for years now, and it’s made your job uncomfortable from time to time.

Once he started going back in the field, he’d come back to his house in immense pain every day. And for a little while, you just gave him some advil and a heating pad to leave him to his devices. But the pain and discomfort got worse, and he suggested a massage would relieve the pain. Which of course it would, and you should have no problem doing that for him. He wasn’t even necessarily asking you, he just said that a massage would feel better and he should go get one. But you still took it upon yourself to give him one anyways, perhaps as an excuse to touch him, but you care about him and you wanted him to feel better. He protested, of course, not wanting to inconvenience you, but he ultimately succumbed when you straddled his back and began rubbing his sore muscles. You did everything in your power to not seem as turned on by his groans of pleasure as you were; trying to hide the way your breath hitched when he choked out a “Yes, right there. Perfect,” between his shallow grunts. He had you in the palm of his hand, and he didn’t even know it. Your best friend has been telling you to make a move for months, but you’re too shy, and you’re not even sure if he feels the same way. He could very well want all of his assistants to stay for dinner, or movie night, or offer to let you stay in the guest bedroom when a pipe burst in your apartment leaking water all over your living room. You didn’t want to accept at first, feeling like you’d be overstepping, but Marcus insisted. He said he and Missy didn’t mind, especially considering you were way better at cooking meals than he was. You finally accepted the offer, figuring it’d also be way easier to work when you’re in closer quarters. You’d be cutting out commute time, and you wouldn’t have to get up so early to get there in time to make breakfast before Missy leaves for school. And you do love sleeping. So you accepted, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like you’ll confess your love for him while you’re staying over; so long as you stay away from the alcohol.

You knock gently on Marcus’ bedroom door and call out his name softly, coffee cup and newspaper in hand. You hear a muffled groan in response, and take that as your cue to enter. Cracking the door open, you see him laying on his stomach tangled up in his sheets with a pillow covering his head. He hated mornings.

“Marcus, it’s time to get up. You have a meeting this morning,” you coo as you enter his bedroom. He rolls over and pulls his head out from under his pillow, sporting the worst bedhead you’ve seen on him yet; you bite back a laugh.

“It’s early,” he grumbles, obviously very groggy from his slumber. You settle on the edge of the bed, offering him the cup of coffee to which he sits up and takes the mug from you eagerly.

“You didn’t see me complaining about the hour when I had to get up at 4 am and bust my ass here every morning, just so I could make breakfast for you and your daughter,” you snide playfully. You don’t resent him for that, and he knows that. He works hard and has a lot on his plate, and he knows you understand that. But it’s become almost like a running joke between the two of you that he can’t complain because “you have it harder.”

“Touché,” he says, pausing to say your name, “Touché.” He takes a few sips of his coffee and holds his hand out for the newspaper, which you then hand to him. He takes a quick sip, contentedly. “Mm, why is it whenever I make coffee it takes like dirty socks, but when you do it, it tastes like heaven. Are you hiding a fancy coffee maker here that I don’t know about?”

“Hm, don’t know. Maybe I’m magic,” you remark jovially, smiling warmly at him. His eyes lock onto yours for a moment and he returns the smile.

“Yeah, something about you sure is magic,” he says, that familiar glint of... something in his eyes. Then he gets up from under his covers and pats your leg with the newspaper as he exits his bedroom, leaving you feeling strange after that encounter. Not a bad strange, you just sensed there was an air of something hanging around him. You’ve been feeling that a lot with him for a while. He’s just said or done things that hinted at meaning more than what it was, but you’ve been trying to brush it off as you looking for something that wasn’t there. You stood up from his bed, tidying up his covers a little so they no longer looked like someone just rolled out of them. You shook your head at the sight of some of his dirty clothes scattered all over the floor and took it upon yourself to pick them up and toss them in his hamper for you to wash later this afternoon. Making your way downstairs, you can hear Marcus shuffling around in the kitchen, humming the chorus of Raspberry Beret by Prince. Another thing you loved about him, he was always humming something around the house, to Missy’s dismay, but you never got tired of it. It warmed your heart to see him so happy. While you didn’t know him before the passing of his wife, you could tell that it still brought him down sometimes when you first started working for him. He’d come home late from work, immediately go to the liquor cabinet, and lock himself in his office for the rest of the night. A year or so ago he finally went through her old things with you and got rid of a lot of stuff. He kept a lot of her belongings, mostly for Missy, but was finally ready to throw a lot of her things away. So the times when you hear him singing absentmindedly, it reminds you that he’s healing and it makes you happy to finally see that after so many years of grief. Entering the kitchen, you cross over to the island and finish plating Marcus’ and Missy’s pancakes; Marcus was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and sipping on his coffee. You set his plate in front of him and he glances up at you, smiling brightly.

“Thanks, these look great. Do these have bananas in them?” he asks excitedly.

“Yep, of course,” you reply with a grin, running your hand over his shoulder before turning back to cross over to the island. You know full well his favorite breakfast is banana pancakes, so you make them for him whenever he has to get up extra early for meetings.

“You know me too well,” he teases, spreading a glob of softened butter on the top of his pancake. You hear footsteps descending the staircase rapidly and the appearance of Missy in the kitchen shortly thereafter, dressed and ready for school.

“Hi dad!” she greets her father, then you, and settles in her chair at the kitchen table. You set her plate of pancakes in front of her along with a small plate of bacon. Marcus glances at you, then the bacon, then back at you, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Why does she get bacon and I get fruit?” he whines, through a mouthful of pancake.

“Because you’re susceptible to heartburn, Missy is not,” you tell him, smacking his hand as he reaches for one of her slices. Missy sticks her tongue out at her father, teasing him as she munches on her bacon. “Quit your whining, Moreno. Fruit is good for you.”

“Outnumbered and outwitted,” he remarks dejectedly, poking at the fruit on his plate. You roll your eyes at his dramatics and finish plating your own breakfast, with extra pieces of the assorted fruits that you especially love. You catch Marcus’ gaze lingering on you for longer than what would be considered “a passing glance.” Once you lock eyes with him, he turns his head back to his newspaper immediately pretending he wasn’t just staring at you. Okay, you can safely say now that he’s officially been acting weird. You don’t have the energy nor the time right now to address his behavior, so you opt to join him and Missy at the table and silently finish your breakfast before you have to drive Missy to school.

…

These chores have been kicking your ass today. You were too preoccupied with the burst pipe in your apartment last week that you weren’t able to do the laundry, so now you’re gifted with two weeks worth of laundry to wash, dry, iron, fold, and put away. It’s almost the end of the work day and you just finished folding the last load. You huff as you haul the basket up the stairs and down the hall to Marcus’ bedroom. You hum absentmindedly as you put his clothes away, tuning out your surroundings as your music blasts through your earbuds. This is the only part of laundry you really like. Firstly, because it’s the easiest part, and secondly because you get to listen to your music in peace without anyone bothering you. Being in the house alone means you can scream/sing the lyrics to your favorite songs without Marcus or Missy making fun of you. Except you didn’t realize you weren’t home alone right now, because Marcus has been watching you, leaning against the threshold of his bedroom door. You stopped dead in your tracks and startled when you noticed his presence. Clutching your chest with your hand you laugh out of embarrassment.

“Marcus, what the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” you ask, frustrated that he just completely ruined your vibe.

“I like hearing you sing. I’ve got my own concert right here in the comfort of my own home,” he half teases, half remarks flirtily at you. He’s staring you up and down, as if you were a sight for sore eyes in your ripped mom jeans and bleach dyed t-shirt. Your hair was lazily thrown up into a messy bun for convenience, some strands hanging around your face to frame it.

“Whatcha listening to?” he asks, crossing towards you.

“Um, Godspeed, by Frank Ocean. You wouldn’t know him, as his career exists post-Prince and Queen, grandpa,” you joke playfully. He shakes his head and rests his hands on his hips.

“Alright, indulge me then. I wanna listen.” Sighing, you oblige and pull your phone out of your pocket and tuck your earbuds away. You start the song over from the beginning and turn the volume all the way up as the song begins. Marcus stares off and listens intently, taking in the synthetic sounds that prelude the lyrics. Once Frank Ocean begins singing, a small smile appears on his face and he nods his head.

“I like that, reminds me of you,” he says sweetly, offering his hand out to you. You glare at it suspiciously, not really sure what he’s asking. “Dance with me.” A blush creeps up on your cheeks and you take his hand happily.

Marcus moves one of his hands to the small of your back while the other clutches yours. You bring your hand to his shoulder and begin swaying with him to the music, singing along to the lyrics softly. He’s staring deep into your eyes and trailing his hand up and down your back, leaving goosebumps wherever it goes. You’ve never felt more in love with him than in this moment. He’s content just swaying with you and staring into your soul. And this song reminds him of you. Because of what? Is this how he feels about you? There will be mountains you won’t move. Still I’ll always be there for you, how I do. He has always been there for you. He’s said he will a million times; when your dad died and your mom became estranged, he didn’t expect anything of you. All he did was text or call you ever-so-often to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. He was one of the only people who really made you feel cared for at that time. That’s when you fell in love with him. You realized that you wouldn’t have gotten through that without his support and care. He and Missy dropped off a gift bag of all of your favorite snacks and movies one night and they spent the evening with you watching movies. Missy fell asleep on your couch and you fell asleep leaning against Marcus’ chest. It was the best you’d slept since your father’s passing. The song ends, leaving you and Marcus swaying to silence, anticipating each other’s next move. Eventually you both stop swaying, your hands move up to lace around the back of his neck and his move to cradle the small of your back. His mouth keeps parting and he inhales sharply, as if he’s about to say something, but he’ll purse his lips, second-guessing himself. You don’t know how, but you know what he wants to say. You can feel it as you look into his eyes. You can feel it when you catch him staring at you. You can feel it every time he enters a room.

“Say it, Marcus,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. You stare at him desperately, you want, no--need to hear him say it. Because you both know how he feels. He just needs to say it. He stares at you lovingly, and brings one of his shaky hands up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. You inhale sharply at his touch, anticipating the words you’ve been wanting to hear him say for years.

“I’m in love with you,” he admits, his voice dripping in his signature rasp, saying your name as if he was blessed by the gods themselves to have the ability to say it. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, cariña. I always have been, and I always will be.”

Your heart beats out of its chest by his admission, your stomach somersaulting and your skin ablaze. I love you, Marcus. Truly, deeply, I do. Your eyes begin to well up, not from sadness, or even joy, but from relief. After years of uncertainty, wonder, even frustration, you finally know how he feels about you. How he’s always felt. It feels as though a weight’s been lifted off of your shoulders. You love him. You’ll shout it from the rooftops, if you have to. I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him. Tears begin sliding down your face as Marcus cups your cheek with the palm of his hand. You nuzzle into his touch, revelling in the way he so effortlessly cares for you.

“I love you, Marcus. I always have,” you finally confess, your voice shaky from the crying. You sniffle and let out a light laugh in relief. You finally said it, and so did he. His eyes look glassy, and he appears to be biting back tears. He smiles lovingly at you, clearing his throat to try and push down the lump that’s been forming. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, stroking your head with the pad of his thumb as he does so, and pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. He cradles the back of your head while his other hand wraps tightly around your back. Your arms hook under his, clutching his back eagerly.

“I love you too, cariña,” he whispers, his lips pressed atop your head. You close your eyes, revelling in his hold on you for a moment before you decide to pull away and look up into his eyes.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, your eyes searching his for the need you have to lock your lips with his. He doesn’t hesitate to dip his head and pinch your chin, tilting it up towards his face, and sealing his admission of love with a needy, gentle kiss. You sigh into the kiss, feeling sparks all throughout your body. He pulls you into his chest, your body now flush against his and your arms wrapping around his neck. He slides his tongue along your closed lips and you part them, welcoming his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues tangle, the both of you needily searching each other’s mouths. His hands begin roaming your body, sliding up and down your waist, toying with the hem of your top and grazing his fingers over the skin of your lower back. As if he was asking permission to slide his hands up your bare back. You nudge his arm lazily and he complies, sliding his hands up your spine leaving goosebumps in his wake. You gasp against his lips as his hands explore your back, pressing further into him as best as you can. He mumbles into the kiss, gripping your bare waist.

“Mm, Missy home?” he asks against your lips. You shake your head, of course he’d forgotten that she was staying over at a friend’s; you had to bust your ass this afternoon running errands and trying to drop her off in time.

“Friend’s house,” you tell him between kisses. He nods, tugging the fabric of your shirt up.

“Do you want me to take this off, honey?” he asks gently, his lips moving from yours to your cheek then your neck as he trails love bites up and down the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck.

“Yes, please,” you reply breathlessly. He slips your top over your head leaving you in your bra. Not wanting to be the only one shirtless, you bring your fingers up to his tie and loosen it before slipping it over his head, working impatiently on the buttons of his dress shirt. Soon you’re both shirtless, chests heaving as your lips lock together feverishly once again. He starts pushing you towards the bed till your calves meet it.

“Lay down--if-if that’s-if you’re okay with that, cariña,” Marcus says, trying his best to seem assertive, but in his heart he’s too gentle and caring to force you to do anything. You roll your eyes and spin him around, shoving him back onto the bed and climbing onto his lap. Supporting your weight by pressing your hands to his bare chest, you dip down to kiss him again. This time they were sloppy and needy, you wanted to savor every bit of him and memorize the way his lips melted into yours. The way his stubble poked your lip, the way his tongue glided across yours, the feeling of his breath against your face. His hands slide down to grip your ass, kneading it through your jeans. You grin into the kiss, enjoying his hands all over you and the way he’s possessively groping your ass.

“Take off my bra,” you command against his lips. He nods eagerly, his fingers fumbling with the straps of your bra before finally releasing the clasp at the back. You shrug off your bra and slip your arms out of the straps, the garment falling onto his bare chest. He chuckles once it plops onto him, he tosses it to the floor and smiles up at you giddily; he looks at you as if you just gave him the best thing you could have ever given him. You roll your eyes at his excitement.

“Why are you so excited? You never seen a pair of boobs before?” you tease, a blush creeping over his face as he realizes you’ve noticed the way he’s been ogling your chest.

“I just never thought you’d let me look at you like this,” he says, with a slightly somber tone. Did he really think you weren’t going to love him back? He must’ve been feeling the same way you have all these years; the yearning, the pining, and the pain of never really being sure if they loved you in return. But you were here now, on top of him in his bed without a shirt on. You grab his arms and pull him up towards you so he’s sitting up, while you remain straddling his lap. He strokes your face tenderly, taking every bit of you in. You turn your cheek into his touch and plant a chaste kiss against his palm, Marcus smiles at you in return. Your heart could not be full of any more love right now. The way he’s looking at you, touching you, kissing you...you’ve never felt this much love from anyone at once. You don’t think you’ve loved anyone like you’ve loved Marcus. Even though you haven’t really had a serious relationship since high school, a relationship that scared you away from love, but you still didn’t think that you’d let someone enter your heart again. Marcus proved to you from the beginning that he’d never hurt you, so you’ve always trusted him, which is something that you don’t like giving away so easily. Truth is, you’ve not even let a man look at you naked since you were a freshman in college; he was an asshole who took advantage of you and your body. And when you told him you weren’t ready to go all the way, as you’re still a virgin, he was fine with it...Till he decided to ghost you the next day. That made your experiences with men even more volatile. It left such a bad taste in your mouth that you never got around to actually having sex with a man. You got by in college with occasional hookups with women, but you always made sure to leave before they woke up, so as to avoid any festering feelings. Marcus got you to a point in your life where you could trust someone like him, finally. He’s treated you well, he’s loved you more than anyone ever has, he’s taken his time with you by being ever-so-patient. And he will always be your rock no matter what.

“Marcus, I want you to see the rest of me,” you whisper, holding his face in your hands. He smiles warmly at you, his coffee-colored eyes holding every ounce of your pain you’ve allowed him to hear and see. He obliges immediately, stripping you of the rest of your clothes, stroking your exposed skin with his feather-like touch. He’s gentle, loving, caressing your skin like you might crumble under his fingertips if he applies too much pressure. You straddle his clothed lap now completely naked, your slick lips gliding over the rough fabric of his jeans as his erection applies intoxicating pressure against the length of your cunt. Your lips are tangled together hungrily, but he kisses you slow and sensually as he searches your lips with his own, his tongue sliding inside your mouth.

“Let me see the rest of you too,” you whisper against his mouth, your fingers dipping down to his belt buckle as you pry it open. He nods his head and aids you in taking off his pants till he’s now clad in his black briefs. He groans as you palm his erection through his briefs, feeling his dick twitch under your touch as you glide your fingers up and down its tense length. He gasps into the kiss, sensitive and responsive to your hold on his cock. You tug on the elastic of his briefs and yank them down, Marcus adjusts so you can pull them down his legs more easily. His dick springs free, dripping with pre cum and twitching with need. Your pelvis settles firmly against his, Marcus’ cock sliding between your pussy lips and nudging your clit gently. You whimper against his lips as each thrust of his hips results in the head of his dick flicking your sensitive nub. Your clit aches for more friction, needing his fingers in your pussy and for him to stroke you. You grip his wrist and bring it between your legs, urging them into your dripping core.

“You want me to touch you, cariña?” Marcus grunts into your ear, his fingers tracing your entrance. His hot breath tickles your ear and makes your pussy clench with need.

“Marcus, my clit--please, baby,” you whimper against his neck. You thrust against his fingers, attempting to force them inside you, but he avoids your advances. He finally slides his finger up through your lips and to your clit, flicking the aching, swollen bud. You gasp, throwing your head back in pleasure as Marcus strokes you. He pulls his hand away and brings it to your mouth, prying your lips open with his finger, urging you to lubricate it. You swirl your tongue around his digit, then he pulls it out and brings it back to rubbing your clit. The pleasure builds inside of you, your breath hitching with each flick of his finger. You’re getting close to the edge, desperate for Marcus to let you cum; his lips trail up and down your neck, lazily licking and nipping at the skin there. He replaces his middle finger with his thumb and continues the pace of his strokes on your clit before sliding two fingers inside of you. The fullness causing you to mewl in his ear as you begin riding his fingers. Your climax builds as your pussy clenches around his fingers that are working in and out of you, curling with each thrust inside of you. The flicks against your swollen bud, your hips rolling into his fingers, his lips on your neck...the way Marcus is working your cunt right now is pushing you close to the edge. Your toes start curling and your pussy clenches around his fingers, causing Marcus to groan at your tightness.

“That’s right, hermosa. I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum,” he groans in his signature rasp. His hot breath sticks to your neck as the pressure inside of you builds. Shutting your eyes and moaning a slew of curses, you begin to see spots as your pelvis tingles and your cunt clenches hard around Marcus’ fingers. His fingers climb up to your scalp and he tugs your head back by your hair, pulling it away from where it was resting in the crook of his neck. You lazily part your eyes open through your climax, finding Marcus staring at you through his lustful brown eyes. His digits work you through the rest of your orgasm, relishing in the way he’s staring at you; your jaw slack, whimpering and moaning, your hands clutching his broad shoulders.

“You’re beautiful, my love,” he breathes, stroking the stray strands of hair out of your face. You smile lazily at him, panting as you come down from your climax. His dick twitches against your thigh as he pulls his fingers from your soaked pussy. He offers them to you and you part your mouth, welcoming his cum soaked digits into your mouth; sucking the evidence of your arousal from his fingers. He watches you, your lips sealed around his fingers and your eyes dark with lust. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and lightly grazes your jaw with his saliva soaked fingertips.

“I want you to fuck me, Marcus,” you tell him hungrily, still breathless from your orgasm. He nods eagerly and grips your hips, trying to position you above his cock. You resist his grasp, and he glances up at you confused.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” he asks, his tone dripping with concern as he cradles your cheek with one of his hands.

“Nothing, I’ve just--I haven’t really...I guess I’m--,” you pause to sigh. “I’m still--technically--a virgin.” You swallow hard, unable to keep yourself from feeling embarrassed by your admission. It’s stupid to feel embarrassed, especially in front of Marcus who would never judge you for something like that. He stares at you comfortingly, not an ounce of condescension in his eyes.

“Okay, honey, let me take care of you,” he says tenderly, flipping you on your back so now he’s hovering over you. “Do you want this?” He holds you gently, wanting you as comfortable as possible and trying desperately not to pressure you into anything.

“Yes, Marcus. I want you. I trust you,” you affirm, your fingers dancing over the stubble on his cheek, desperately wanting more of him. Trust has always been hard for you. This was more than just letting him take your virginity, it was letting him into your heart completely and earnestly; it was the first time in years you’ve let someone love, touch, and look at you like this. And you wouldn’t want anyone else to be here fucking you except for Marcus. He grins at you warmly, his eyes so full of love and want.

“I love you,” Marcus says your name, planting a longing kiss on your forehead and nuzzling his cheek against your cheek.

“I love you, too, Marcus,” you say, feeling all his love for you by simply looking into his eyes. He smiles and plants kisses along your jawline and throat, nipping at the flesh. He reaches into the drawer in his bedside table and pulls out a condom. He tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. Marcus positions himself at your entrance, your legs wrapping around his waist in anticipation.

“You okay?” he asks nervously, he seems more anxious than you even are and it’s absolutely adorable.

“Marcus, sweetheart, I’m fine,” you giggle, your hands cradling the sides of his head. “Please, I want this. I’ve wanted this for forever. Fuck me, please.” He nods, planting kisses on your forehead, and his dick prods your slick entrance. Marcus sinks the head of his cock into you and hisses at the tightness of your pussy. You mewl as he stretches you open slowly, your arms wrapping around his neck and your bare chest pressing into his. He slowly buries his length into you, his cock twitching inside of you and he revels in the tightness of your cunt. You gasp once he’s sheathed inside of you, your pussy stretched wide open for him and only him. Your clit aches for more friction, and you desperately need him to move inside of you.

“You good?” he groans through gritted teeth, his lips hovering above yours as your breaths mingles together.

“Marcus, baby, move please--fuck,” you gasp, gripping his shoulder tight. He doesn’t hesitate to begin pulling out slowly, and moving back inside your aching pussy. His thrusts are slow and gentle, trying to get you used to his length before he picks up the pace. He wants this to be as enjoyable for you as possible and he’s only able to do so by starting out painstakingly slow. After a few more slow, languid thrusts, he gauges a slightly quickened pace. You moan, locking his lips with yours, and sloppily kiss him as you begin to try and thrust against him, searching for a rhythm. Your hips rock with his, his thick cock gliding in and out of your pussy, but your clit still craves more friction.

“My clit--shit, Marcus,” you hiss against his lips. He dips one of his fingers between your bodies and begins flicking your clit gently and expertly as he continues to fuck you. You gasp and whimper into the kiss as he keeps flicking the sensitive bud in rhythm with his thrusts. You bring his lower lip between your teeth and tug it gently, Marcus groaning before locking your lips again.

“Fuck--cariña, you’re so tight--so good--for me, shit,” Marcus growls into the kiss, his thrusts keeping pace but becoming harder. You moan, the pressure on your clit becoming almost too much for you as his cock stretches you wide and fills you each time he thrusts all the way into you. “Wanted you--wanted--I’ve dreamt about fucking this tight little pussy, cariña.”

The way he speaks to you makes your body run hot, his words burning into your skin and making you flush. You moan your affirmations, wanting to urge him on to keep going.

“Baby, keep going--keep talking,” you choke out between gasps and moans. Marcus continues his pace on your clit and with his thrusts, not faltering even once as he groans in pleasure.

“I wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck the shit out of you. I--shit--wanted to eat your pussy out while you made breakfast; on my knees, my head between your thighs, licking your cunt like that’s what you were serving me,” he growls, dipping his head down briefly to lazily suck your nipple, switching between both breasts. “You--fuck--mija, you’re mine. You’re finally mine, I won’t lose you.” His hot breath tickles your breasts and he kisses his way back up to your lips locking them together again. His words were not possessive by any means, they were desperate, needing you to know how much it would hurt him if he were to lose someone else he loved the same way he lost his wife. The pressure he’s creating from the flicking of your clit partnered with his cock buried deep inside your pussy as it tickles your g-spot, becomes too much and before you know it you’re close. Your cunt clenches around his cock a few times, making Marcus groan into your mouth. You gasp and whimper, wanting to cum for him again; you want to come undone in front of him, show him just how much you’ve wanted to fuck him all these years. You roll your hips up into his, frantically searching for your orgasm as your thrusts begin to quicken and your pussy clenches around him once again.

“Marcus, I’m close,” you whimper into your sloppy kiss, clinging to his back and dragging your nails up and down the skin there.

“Cariña, cum for me. You look so sexy when you finish,” he whispers huskily against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip as he thrusts harder into you again, the slapping of skin echoing throughout the room. Your body tenses underneath him, white spots clouding your vision as your cunt clenches around his dick, milking him. Your body tingles and you spasm against his bare chest, digging your nails further into his back. Marcus thrusts into you, hissing when you clench around his throbbing cock, as he rides out his climax. His groans and whimpers growing louder as he reaches his orgasm, then promptly quieting down once he begins to come down. You pant, your chest rising and falling as you also come down from your own climax. Marcus slumps next to you, his twitching length still sheathed inside of you as your legs tangle together. He grabs your chin and tilts your head towards him to kiss you, slowly and featherlike, wanting to savor your taste. You lay like that for a moment, your sweaty chests rising and falling together as you both try to catch your breath.

“I’m so in love with you,” Marcus says your name, draping his arm over your stomach and squeezing your waist gently. “And I will show you just how much I love you every day, mi amor,” He plants a kiss on your shoulder. “I’ll never let you forget it.” He kisses up and down the length of your neck, his tongue darting out occasionally to taste you.

“You’re my hero,” you giggle, turning on your side to face him while his dick still remains buried inside of you. He rolls his eyes playfully, having heard hundreds of different women say that very phrase over the course of his career, but it strikes something inside of him when he hears you say it. “You saved me. I love you.” You snuggle into his chest and pepper kisses along the sweaty skin there.

“I’ll always be here, cariña. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll catch you when you fall, like how you catch me when I do. I would be so lost without you, mi corazon,” he says tenderly, planting a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around you tighter. He loosens his hold on you, and pulls his half-hardened cock out of your pussy. He disposes of the condom then pulls the sheets back over your bodies, bringing you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Marcus plants slow, languid kisses all over your face, wanting to make you feel all the love he holds for you. Your eyes droop shut, fatigue beginning to overcome your body as you’re trapped in Marcus’ arms. But this is a place you wouldn’t want to escape, no, you feel safe here. Marcus won’t let you go, and you wouldn’t let him go either. Marcus has your heart, and there’s no one else you’d trust to keep it. He’s your hero, after all. The hero who saved you with his love.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #afab reader #marcus moreno x afab reader #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #marcus moreno dilf #mutual pining #yearning #domestic fluff #marcus moreno takes your virginity #marcus moreno is caring af #marcus moreno marry me pls #miracle guy #godspeed by frank ocean

68 notes · View notes