#being in an old ass house means there are old ass books | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kyri45 · 20 days ago

Text

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 16/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: i absolutely adore your shadowpeach bio-parents au comics they flow really nicely from post to post, and i looove the balance between angst & fluff i feel as if with shadowpeach, its always either angst or fluff- no inbetween, but somehow you've found a really nice mixture of both thanks for singlehandedly keeping me in the LMK fandom haha

Thank you! Fluff and angst keep going around each other like a microwave ahah

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like with mks monkey form does he have to deal with shedding during summer I think it would be funny if macaque and Mk got fluffier during winter. Wukong wouldn't complain about a fluffy macaque though probably like sleeping with the best plushy.

Oh man I think they do indeed haha. Pigsy would scold MK bc he keeps finding fur hair everywhere in the house

Anonimo ha chiesto: You seem like someone who knows a lot about the LMK fandom, so I must ask where does the idea of Princess Iron Fan and Macaque being sworn siblings come from? Like, is it from JTTW, and im just not aware of it, I'm still trying to learn as much as I can, and I need to actually read the book. The fact that people assume I know a lot about the fandom is so hilarious (not in a mocking way, I'm just very surprised) bc like- I watched the whole show in 1 day, speedwatched Overly sarcastic production recap of JTTW and read half of the book in a week. All of this in July. That's everything that I know from the fandom.

I think it's an headcanon. in JTTW Wukong, Macaque and DBK are all part of the brotherhood so.

Anonimo ha chiesto: First off I LOVE your comic but I have the animal autism and wanted to share some Monkey facts: monkeys don't sweat like humans do they mostly sweat on the palms and feet, areas they have no fur. For overheating monkeys mainly seek shade staying under trees , increase respiration (panting), seeking water sources. Also some species might shed for a thinner coat during summer. Sweating is an exclusively human thing and why humans have been so successful humans are persistent hunters. We would often follow herds for miles waiting for them to tire and overheat while sweating keeps us perfectly cool. Humans are also the only animal to blush. Lol Again no hate love the comic I love me some Flustered blushing gay monkeys. I just have the animal autism and wanted to info dump.

Thank you for the animal fact dump! Those were actually super interesting facts!

@draxeanlxia ha chiesto: Hey question that I have no idea if you already answered but how old is MK in your BIO Parents AU? I know people (usually) believe him to at least 18 due to China’s minimum driving age but others believe him to in his early 20s. Also Mac in your AU said was ‘grown ass man’ during the baby arc. So in your AU, how old is MK?

So. in the AU he's 21 y/o. Meaning that when he arrived to Pigsy door they saw him and went "yeah, he looks around 2/3" and from then they counted on. Buut there's also the thing that he looks a little younger than that age. I wont say anything else.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Who your Favorite Lmk character??

mmmmmmm... MK bc he's monkey now. Before season 4 probably Macaque or Wukong. But I have a "thing" for characters discovering they are actually a different species and slowly gaining new/different body features bc of that, so when I saw him flickering at the end of s4 I flew to a different universe. Literally the whole reason this AU exist is because I would die for this trope

Anonimo ha chiesto: What inspired your Human Wukong & Mac designs? Mostly because my brain looks at Macaque and thinks “Cranky middle aged pirate” meanwhile Wukong’s is “That chill gay uncle” (this is based off of purely looks by the way)

Macaque is drama queen so of course he would wear a trenchvoat during fall. plus he's old inside and outside bc of all Wukong bullshit. Wukong is your friendly neighbour who lives in a sketchy house and survives on peach sodas and chips (oh wait that's just canon Wukong.)

ainnur ha chiesto: You know I like how Wukong in your comic just compare something hot with Laozi's furnace. Like with spicy food and time he help MK created the weapon. Mk: You know Wukong you mention Laozi's furnace a lot. Must really tough 49 days for you... Wukong:Yeah worst 49 years *eating peach* Mk: Can tell- wait- years..? Wukong: Yeah a day at heaven is like one year here or so..Do the math, bud *continue to eat the peach* Mk:.... what..? Wukong just casually and accidently recall his trauma because he thought it never effect him like his other trauma. Also the brotherhood have 49 years to help him but they didn't do anything. "Yeah because normally you would rush into my rescue"

Thank you for giving me this traumatic info I didn't know about. Now I will never look at Wukong the same (why did my boy have to suffer so much)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Macaque: I think I'm in love with Wukong . . . Any thoughts. Chiyou: and prayers you're going to need them.

me too bitch, the fuck

@mirror-queen226 ha chiesto: I agree about the last ask you posted (about Wukong surely wearing a dress on a date), and I just couldn't help but say my own headcanon too (with a little bit of knowledge about the ancient times that Wukong was just a child on the jttw and lmk): I dunno if you agree but okay. Honestly, both Wukong and Mac/Mihou (like i usually call him) does not care about clothes, if they feel comfortable with them, be it for woman or man, they'll wear it, especially Wukong though, I feel like he'd act like a famous diva in a on a runway showcasing new high-class clothes from Victoria Secret, Channel, or something, whilst Mac is much more discreet but not too far from that too. And considering Wukong was wearing WOMAN clothes when he was in the brotherhood in the season 4 lmk flashback, it just made me believe in that headcanon even more :) Also, I am really loving your au, it's just so perfect the way you develop every character slow and patiently, keeping their personalities untouched, not changing but instead expanding and showing them a bit more, how they are really trying to improve (Wukong and Mihou in this case) and how satisfying it is to see. I always rush to see the new updates you post about the Biodads au every time i see too, and honestly, one of the 5 best au's ever, you draw so good too, it's adorable! That's all I wanted to say, have a nice day, drink water and take care of your health! 🥰🥰🥰

Yeah true! Like they are shapeshifter, they wouldn't care what species they are, even less the perceived gender norms

Anonimo ha chiesto: Little question, while the monkeys where at Chiyou's forge, shadowpeach where still sleeping together or not?

They were all sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor (but they all were close to each other.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Generally curious what you think would have happened if MK had not been woken up and the stone wasn't broken what do you think would have happen. would he had grown up on FFM?

Aww he probably would have been raised by Wukong. I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

@wolfsonic ha chiesto: I have question! Does Rumble and Sabage have sentience in your stories? Like, do they have their own personalities like MK clones do? If yes, what do they think of WuKong and MK? Also, will we see more of them? Cause I'd love Mk to meet them when he wasn't stuck as a cub and not remember.

Yeah I think they have a littel bit of personalities. They like both MK and Wukong, but would also do prank on him.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think I won't say I'm in love from Hercules fits macaque very well

The little monkeys are the muse doing backup choir

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we see what a courtnapping room typically looks like?

Courtnapping rooms are made specifically for the courted one, so they are all different. Basically, the room should include everything the courted person would need to live comfortable and also a collection of things they like / to pass the time /love.

It must show that the person courtnapping them is able to provide, care and protect for them. And also knows what makes them happy.

So it can be a huge castle full of jewerly and elegant clothes/ornaments or just a cozy room with some chips and video games.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Is LBD going to be a topic in your au again ?

maybe

@wolfasketch ha chiesto: We need MK interacting with his new found Auntie and Uncle please(we also new to see Red being flustered by MK while his parents are around and PIF being like "Ooohhhh")

We are VERY luky Red Son and MK didn't grew up together or we would have thier parents playing love-matching with them while they are toodlers

Anonimo ha chiesto: could we possibly get a traffic light trio and shadopeach grooming train at some point, i would love to see some bonding time between them all <3 and i would love to see mk grooming redsons hair since there's so much of it

Wait who would be the second person to be groomed? I assume RedSon hair are too hot to touch. (when he's flustered, at least)

Anonimo ha chiesto: So like how does Redsons hair/ fire work. Does it just feel warm to MK and Mei. Will it only burn/ hurt you if he doesn't trust you. Another note it must be nice having two fire demon friends during winter.

I think when he's relaxed, the hair is just- a little bit warm, then with his feelings and emotion it can go up to a bigillion degrees, so it's not harmful as long as he can control it.

#ask box #shadowpeach bio parents au

336 notes · View notes

shes4twnksinatrnchct · 28 days ago

Text

Rascality

Jake Kiszka x fem. reader

Words: 3.2K (oneshot)

Summary: (Dad!Jake) After your child with Jake is left unsupervised for a moment too long, you attempt to clean up the mess she makes out of one of his guitars, only resulting in a bigger mess.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, fluff (Jake being a whole father), explicit language, SMUT (Dom/mean Jake if you squint, spanking, fingering, rough sex, orgasm denial, a little overstimulation, unprotected sex, p. in v., cream pie)

***Please keep in mind this is a work of fiction and enjoy!

You’re scrubbing away at the plate stained in marinara sauce, gritting your teeth together as you try one last time to eliminate the red hue from the typically sparkly white ceramic when you hear it.

That dreaded sound that you typically relax in when your daughter isn’t in your care…

Silence.

Quickly putting the plate in the sink, you rinse the soap from your hands and immediately call for your three year-old, padding around the house and looking into every room.

Panic nearly takes you when she remains quiet until she no longer can.

“Uh, oh.” She says to you.

Your eyes fall on her, the black crayon in her hand, and the back of your husband’s acoustic guitar that she’s decided is her canvas.

Your heart falls to your feet.

Holy. Shit.

Attempting to keep your composure, you clear your throat and put on a stern but calm expression, approaching her while she hangs her head low—knowing she’s in trouble.

“You know you’re not supposed to mess with Daddy’s things.” You tell her, gently plucking the crayon from her hand as she pouts at the floor, brown eyes glaring at your feet as her little fists curl up by her sides.

She mumbles under her breath, her version of back-talk, and you crouch down and get on her level.

“Where do we color?” You ask her and she shakes her head in defiance, only you keep your eyes on her and she finally relents with a begrudged, “Our coloring book.”

“Okay, so why did you color on Daddy’s guitar?”

Because he left it out like I told him not to, you say to yourself, waiting for the smaller spitting image of him to give her reasoning.

“I don’t know.” Is all she can offer, twiddling her hands together.

“He’s not going to be happy with us.” You sigh, looking down at the shining lighter brown that’s covered in large, black scribbles.

He’s not going to be happy with his daughter, but he’s going to be livid with you for not keeping an eye on her.

“Let’s fix it.” You grab it and the two of you step to the kitchen where you pluck a fresh erasing sponge from under the sink, wetting it and getting to work the way you’ve done to the walls that have fallen victim to her artistry multiple times.

She watches you do so, her hands resting at the edge of the counter trying to see you, but she knows you’re cleaning it off because when you’re done you show it to her and state, “Do not color on this again, got it?”

“Got it.” She answers, and you’re carefully walking it back to your room and placing it in its case and shutting it—thanking God that she doesn’t have any access to Jake’s prized Gibson.

When Jake gets home, you and your daughter play innocently, greeting him as soon as he steps into the door.

Of course she beats you to him, getting all the hugs and kisses she can before you get to him.

He’s holding her on his hip, her arms wrapping tightly around him while he hugs her just as snug, greeting you with a smile and a soft, “Hey, baby,” before his lips press to yours briefly, his free hand coming down to pat you on the ass.

“So, I was thinking I’ll cook dinner, you can get a shower and relax…” He says lowly to you, leaning into your ear to add, “…Then when we get her to bed—”

He doesn’t have to even complete the sentence before you’re nodding with a grin, causing him to laugh.

You take your few moments of quiet granted to you once he starts cooking and your daughter insists on watching him do so, ever the little shadow of his that she is…and while she’s assisting him (more so asking him a million “what’s that?”s), she starts telling him about her day, and says two words in one sentence that pauses his heart briefly: Coloring and guitar.

“What?” He asks her for clarification, seeing her face slowly shut down with the feeling of being in trouble again.

Even though he has no idea what she was trying to say or what she means, he prepares himself for the worst as he takes the food from the hot burner momentarily and asks, “Hey, can you show me what you colored today?”

It seems this perks her ears up, causing her to wiggle to get free of his arms and head toward your room with a pep in her step.

He dreads opening the guitar case that he now remembers he never even returned his acoustic to before heading to the studio.

Opening it, he glances down at the seemingly spotless finished wood, then he hears, “Mommy cleaned it.”

His brows furrow in confusion as he’s removing the guitar from its case, and when he subconsciously smooths his fingers over the back of it in the process, he snatches his hand back and turns it around to see why it feels so textured.

He damn-near faints at the sight of the patchily stripped finish.

“Y-You colored it?” He stumbles it out, still taken aback by the monstrosity of it.

Jake feels a slight incline in his blood pressure, but doesn’t dare let it show in front of the little eyes looking at him while she nods guiltily.

“And mom cleaned it off?”

Again, she nods.

“Okay.” He breathes out, offering a painful smile to his child as he puts the guitar back and pats her head when she says, “I’m sorry.”

“Just, uh, don’t do that again, okay?”

She agrees, smiling up at him.

The two of them return to the kitchen, finish making dinner and eat, Jake making you a plate for whenever you get done before he’s cleaning the little girl up and getting her tucked into bed.

In the midst of him cleaning up the kitchen, he goes to throw scraps in the trash can and sees evidence of the crime.

Putting the plate aside, he picks up the sponge you scrubbed the crayon from the guitar with and lets out a deep breath.

Once he returns to your room, he steps into the ensuite bathroom that’s filled with steam and smells of your shower products and the lotion you’re putting on.

He leans against the door and watches you, part of him wanting to lick every inch of your soft, glowing, naked body while another part wants to press you about what the fuck you did to his guitar.

“Can you put some of this on my back, baby?” You ask it so sweetly, while pausing to pin your damp hair up, that he can’t even stop his feet from following the sound of your voice.

Stepping toward you, he drinks in the view before he’s settling behind you in the mirror.

You put some of the lotion in his hands and he rubs them together before working it into the skin of your back—massaging your shoulders, going down your spine with his thumbs, grasping the base of your spine with both hands the way he does sometimes in the middle of fucking into you.

The tightness of his black jeans isn’t easy to hide when his hands roam around you to greedily squeeze at your chest, a giggle leaving you when he pulls you back into him and kisses at your neck.

“That’s not my back.” You tease, soaking up his attention while he chuckles into your skin, his tongue coming out to lick at you while his fingers roll your nipples.

At this point, you wouldn’t care if he bent you over the bathroom sink.

“I missed you.” You say softly, your back arching and your bare ass rubbing against the mouth-watering tent of his pants.

“I missed you, too,” He says gently while you take your lip between your teeth as one of his hands smooths down your stomach…

“Can you be honest with me about something?” He asks you, your mind already having thrown the craziness of your day out to focus on him.

“Mhmm,” it’s breathy and weak, his fingertips sliding between your legs to ease through your folds before finding your clit.

You rest your head back on his shoulder, his lips still ghosting along your skin as he continues, “What the hell happened to my guitar?”

You nearly pause but decide that will look more suspicious.

You scrubbed the crayon off—there’s no way he saw any on there, right?

Remembering that he was alone with the culprit of the artwork in the first place, she probably confessed.

You wonder how frustrated he is that you let her wander off while you were busy, and decide that perhaps a little white lie in this instance won’t hurt anything…

“I don’t know, baby, I haven’t messed with it.” You say to him calmly.

Jake nearly laughs at how stupid you must think he is, but keeps himself together, instead untangling from you to step to the door.

“Wait right here.” He tells you, your heart pounding in your chest.

By now, you obviously know that he knows the truth.

He returns with his guitar in one hand and the worn-down eraser sponge that’s littered with black wax from the crayon and pills of the finish of his guitar.

The light reflects the shift of texture along the back of the instrument from where you ruined it apparently.

You hadn’t noticed that.

Shit.

“This is like fucking sandpaper, y/n.” He waves the sponge, and you go to talk but feel as though you can’t. “Why did you lie to me?”

You can’t bring yourself to answer.

“That’s what I thought.” He turns to leave you, and you follow after him to your bedroom, watching as he puts the guitar back in its case and tosses the sponge into the trash.

“Jake, baby, I’m sorry.” You say to him when he goes back to the bathroom to scrub the residue of shed finish from his hands.

“Go get on the bed.” He tells you, not even bothering looking at you.

A part of your brain that knows what his words mean has you nearly racing back to the bedroom, and when he returns, you hear the clinking of his belt being undone and the ring of it being pulled from his belt loops.

Jake smirks at the sight of you damn near jumping for joy, bent over the bed with your back arched and your ass up, legs parted just enough for him to see your dripping pussy that’s painfully awaiting his punishment for you.

Wrapping the leather of his belt around his hand, you go up on your tip toes and have to stifle a moan when the first lick of his belt stings your skin.

“Fuck.” You whimper out with the second one, hurting more than the first.

The third hurts the worst thus far, Jake admiring the stripes on your ass as he goes for a fourth.

This one pulls a moan from you, your pussy throbbing and your ass aching.

The fifth lick is the last, at least he plans for it to be until your hand slides between your body and the bedding to aid in some relief.

He’s hypnotized momentarily while watching your painted nails and sparkling wedding ring catch the light while your fingertips delicately playing with your clit.

Your voice cracks out a cry when he grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back to grit into your ear, “You’re such a fucking brat.”

And you are.

It's his own doing, honestly, the way he always ends up giving you exactly what you want even when he’s not happy with something you’ve done…

His belt falls to the floor and he hits the already sensitive skin of your ass as hard as he can with his hand, muffling your scream with his hand while the hand pleasuring yourself juts out to brace in the covers underneath you as a shudder shakes through you and tears prick your eyes.

Examining the red handprint that’s already starting to form on your swollen skin, he smooths over it gently, leaning over you once again to push your hair to one shoulder and tsks, “You can’t even keep the one kid that we have out of my things, and you want me to give you another?”

You shamelessly nod, his lips gently planting to your shoulder blade as you deliberately arch your back further downward to lift your ass higher and grind the apex of your thighs along the fabric of his jeans.

The friction has you desperately chasing the shocks it sends up your spine.

“Baby, please, I’m sorry.” You whine out lowly, your mouth falling open when he reaches between the two of you and picks up where you left off, his own lips parting in awe at how wet you are, teasing your clit before running his fingers to your slit.

“You’re sorry?” He asks you sarcastically, slipping one finger into your hungry cunt.

You squeeze around him, a little noise leaving you that has him adding another finger.

“Fuck, Jake, I’m so sorry,” You repeat at nicely as you can, squeezing your eyes shut when he immediately pushes them further into you to brush against that spot.

Your toes are digging into the rug at your feet when he repeatedly presses into you, taunting you with a, “What’re you sorry for?”

“Ly—oh!” You can’t get it out, not when he picks up his pace, your eyes rolling back.

“What’re you sorry for, y/n?” He demands from you, his other hand coming up to wrap in your hair again and pull your head back when you try to bury your face in the sheets.

“Lying.” Is all you can squeak out, your back hurting but he feels too good to try to get out of this position.

Instead, you once again creep your hand under you, trying to find your release as fast as possible, and he humors you for a moment, grinning as you grow louder and louder, your legs beginning to shake as the overstimulation of his fingers and your own starts to become overwhelming with the white-hot approach of your orgasm.

It’s taken from you before you can hit it, however, his fingers leaving you.

“Jake,” You’re crying, frustrated and guilty, falling on your back, and he raises his brows as he looks down at you while you silently beg for him.

“Jake,” He mocks your voice, unbuttoning his pants. “I blatantly lied to you…” He grabs his cock in his fist, a quiet groan leaving him while he slowly strokes himself a few times, before running the head of it along your clit—eliciting a sound from you that has his knees weak. “…But I still think you should let me come…” He carries on his impression of you bitterly as he lines himself up with your entrance, quickly sheathing himself into the hot silk of your pussy.

You gasp, your eyes rolling and your hands finding his as he adds, “…Because I look so pretty when I do.”

And boy do you, your fingers lacing with his, your eyes struggling to stay open as your walls already start to spasm and grip at him.

It’s a trap that landed you two with a child in the first place.

“That’s why you’re so fucking spoiled, now.” His jaw goes slack as he watches himself disappear in and out of you to the hilt, the soft skin just above your pelvis bulging slightly with each deep stroke into you.

You can’t deny it because you know it’s true, and you’ve used it to your advantage every now and then.

Anything you’ve ever wanted, you’ve never had to ask him for it twice—whether it be material things, more time spent together, or even a baby.

He can’t help himself, not when you look the way you do, sound the way you do, taste the way you do and feel the way you do.

You could probably say you want the world at this moment and he’d go out and get it for you because how could he possibly say no to you?

He knows he’s rewarding bad behavior, but he’s just as greedy for you to cum as you are, his hands grabbing your hips to pound into you as you arch off of the bed and spread your legs wider, feeling as though he’s in your stomach.

“Fuck, it’s so good,” You try to catch your breath, your voice shaky when you get it out.

Sweat rolls down his chest, and you lick your lips at the sight of him over you, the tight grip of his hands moving to your thighs to keep them spread when he hits your cervix and you yelp with the nearly uncomfortable ecstasy of it.

It’s his target, anyway for his own orgasm, and as he hits it again and again you start seeing stars as another pathetic, “I’m sorry, baby—I—ah! I’m so sorry, it won’t happen again,” leaves you, hoping it’s enough for him to give you what you want most right now.

He doesn’t pull away this time, caught entirely in your trap as you strangle around him in a vice-hold, your whole body overtaken by your ending.

Jake contemplates pulling out this time just to prove a point, his thrusts growing less rhythmic, but then you force yourself to prop up on your hand, your other hand tangling in his necklaces to pull his lips to yours.

Sloppy and satisfied, you wince as the change in angle tightens you either further around him, and a slew of curses leave him when he breaks from your lips.

“You want another baby?” He asks you, knowing the answer because the two of you had been actively trying ever since the last tour wrapped up.

“I want another baby.” You struggle out, hiking your spread knees up to give yourself your own view of him ruining you in the best way either of you can think of.

Your mouth gapes open when he forces himself against your cervix for a last time and empties into you, the hot liquid warming you inside out as you gaze at each other with dopey heads and exhausted bodies.

After the two of you clean up without speaking, you finish your dinner and return to the bedroom to see he’s changed the sheets and is on the bed, shirtless and examining his ruined instrument.

You crawl onto the bed and settle behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his shoulder.

“I really am sorry, Jake.” You say softly, not realizing just how badly fucked the guitar was when you tried to get the damn crayon off of it. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her.”

“I can get it fixed.” He assures you lowly… “And there’s been times she’s torn through shit before I could stop her, too, so don’t feel bad for not standing over her all the time.” He adds in reference to your daughter, turning to look at you. “I think with this next one, we need to split up and have one-a-piece that we keep strapped to us at all times.” He suggests with the thought of a second kid running you two just as ragged as the first one is.

“Deal.” You nod, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Masterlist

Tag list: @lizzys-sunflower

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x you #jake kiszka x y/n

157 notes · View notes

sweetercalypso · 1 year ago

Note

Please can you write about being catcalled when you’re with Joel? Like what do you think he would do?

wc: 0.7k cw: threats/slight violence, suggestive comments

Life in Jackson is quiet.

It’s reminiscent of a time that not many remember. Fit with a heavy artillery of patrolmen and a clinic and a working bar, Jackson made it easy to pretend that danger was no longer a concern.

Some of the men in the community weren’t so well-adjusted to easy living, and learned to find the familiarity of violence wherever they possibly could.

Walking back from Tommy’s house one evening, you’re reminded of how pervasive the threat of humanity can be.

Joel leads you home after dinner with his family. Ellie had stayed behind at Maria and Tommy’s with promises of hot chocolate and a new book that Tommy had procured on patrol the week before. You’re wrapped around Joel’s arm, giggling at whatever nonsense story he was murmuring into the quiet air when a sharp whistle kills the hazy warmth of the night.

Standing alone in the pale-yellow light of a streetlamp, one of the men from a group of newcomers stares darkly at you and Joel as the two of you pass by. His eyes had been stalking you from the time you turned the corner, like he was waiting for the perfect time to make his move.

“Lookin’ good, baby. I’d love to get a piece of that ass.”

Joel stops dead in his tracks like he’d been scorned by the man’s words. It was obvious the stranger was looking to pick a fight, and Joel was not the type to let a remark like that go.

“The fuck did he just say-”

“Ignore ‘em, Joel. He’s just trying to rile you up.”

Your grip on Joel’s sleeve tightens to give the man a chance to reconsider. Maybe he didn’t mean to offend you and he’d apologize. Maybe he’d realize who Joel was and he’d run away. Maybe –

“Let me know when the old man croaks, sweetheart. I’ll show you how a real man takes care of a pretty thing like you.”

Joel whips around abruptly with rage in his eyes and tears his arm out of your grasp before you even realize what’s happening.

He pounces on the man and grabs him by the collar, pushing him backwards until he smacks into the wall of the building behind him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Joel snarls.

He slams his hand against the faded brick, barely missing the side of the man’s face with his palm. Too stunned by the scene playing out in front of you, you’re frozen where you stand in the middle of the street.

Realizing that he had made a mistake, the man puts his hands up in surrender, opening his mouth to speak when Joel cuts him off.

“If I hear another word out of your mouth, I’ll knock your head clean off your shoulders. You got that?”

He nods frantically, clearly aware that he’s not in the position to argue.

“Don’t ever talk about my girl like that again – or any woman here, for that matter. This ain’t the kinda place where people let that slide.”

Barely an inch separates the two men as Joel barks abuse at the creep until he’s red in the face. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him this upset.

“You so much as look at her again and you’re dead. D’you hear me?”

The man shakes his head in acknowledgement, too stunned to respond.

Joel yanks him forward and away from the wall, almost throwing him to the ground from the rough force he uses. He holds the man at arm’s length, speaking loudly enough for you to hear him where you stand a couple paces away. “Good. Now tell her you’re sorry.”

The man meets your gaze over Joel’s jacket clad shoulder, stammering through his dazed apology. “M’sorry, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

Joel releases him with a rough shove and backs away nodding. “You’re damn right.”

He walks backwards until he’s beside you again, your hand slinking under his outer layer to rest securely over his chest.

“My hero,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek as the two of you continue your journey back home.

Watching over his shoulder as the the stranger staggers into the night, Joel mutters under his breath,

“I’d rather deal with the damn clickers.”

#lovely anons #calypso writes #Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller hurt/comfort #joel miller fluff #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #the last of us #tlou #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal x reader

2K notes · View notes

annabelle-creart · 4 months ago

Text

The 13 Prime Au

It´s so funny how bots see the Primes at these days, like, powerful beings with great knowledge and energy, like, dude, they´re not, they doesn´t even were as you think on the old days, like

Prima was a paranoid bitch, I mean it, that man and his angsty and anxious look made everyone thought he was The Thirteenth and not Prima, he created Ghost-stories,

Megatronus was a depressive bear who depended on Solus to have at least 1% of self-esteem on himself,

Solus as the only female was who supported the whole team when Prima couldn´t, but that doesn´t mean she didn´t did stupid gadgets because she was bored and let everyone to use them,

Vector was the one who tested her gadgets because he didn´t fear death, he was so fucking hyperactive and uncontrollable, the most infantile of the team, a man kid, to be wise didn´t mean he didn´t wanted to have fun,

and the there was Quintus and his autistic ass going one way to another in the galaxy, studying the planets and life itself and then coming back home to sit because he got energy-drained,

Micronus trying to deal with all the thoughts of the team and also being A FUCKING GOSSIP MESSENGER, everyone knew about Solus and Megatronus relationship because of his anti-silence mouth,

Onyx was both the grandpa and the pet of the team, when he´s not relaxing with a cup of hot energon and drawing he is in an astral travel with Quintus, he´s Quintus' special info dumping guest, probably they´re the favorite brother of the other,

Liege, as we know is an asshole and everyone knew that, but what not everyone knew and just his siblings was how a CHICKEN he was, he was the tinnest of the team just after Micronus and was always distracting everyone when they were angry, he´s like Starscream but 10 times worst,

Alchemist was an alcoholic but no one pay attention to it till he almost fall from the planet, how? Primus is still trying to figured out that,

Alpha Trion was a book worm, put a book in front on him and in one hour he will know everything about it and the author, and he was a book worm because his social skills were pure shit, the anxiety didn´t let him live out of his magic library,

Amalgamous is still a mystery because no one on the house could comprehend why with all that power he just made spectacles for the rest and the new cybertonians, even liege called him once a buffon,

Nexus was constantly treated like a crazy bot because he was always talking to himself, well, he wasn´t, he was a whole system of various bots, it was actually one of the bots talking to another with the same voice, but the rest didn´t get how it felt, so, they tried not to talk much with them, that´s actually why Nexus system is so angry at their siblings now,

Thirteenth is dead...

Primus is an absent father,

they all literally fought against their uncle

so, now, you can imagine how out of control that house was...

---

The Garden is my new project, please, take a look at it

161 notes · View notes

writingoddess1125 · 11 months ago

Note

Ok, I just have to ask you. Can we have more daddy Mihawk? 🫠🔥

Please 🥺

You Got is Sugar!

Mihawk x FemReader +OOC Children

Liniște! {Be Quiet!}

Since Mihawk is Romanian 🇷🇴 I thought him speaking the tongue/culture would be fun!

If I got shit wrong PLEASE tell me!

• Most people do not realize this, because Mihawk keeps it behind closed door. But- He is very heavily tied to his culture of birth.

• Most of the time at home, Mihawk has developed the habit of just speaking his native tongue. Feeling comforble enough to do so- As well as wanting to pass it on to his children.

• Mihawk summoning Alucare to his study one frosty morning, humming a song from his youth as he has a stack of papers and books before him. The gloomy teen stepping in and raising a brow at his father-

• "Închide ușa" (Close the Door-) Mihawk said calmly waving to his child who stares at him confused. "What language are you speaking old man?-"

• "From now on I'm only speaking my native language to you. So you learn or you starve-" He says calmly as he hands his son the book. "You've got to be kidding-"

• "Nu glumesc" (I'm not kidding-)

• He adores you and will speak with you privately in his native tongue, teaching you important words that will only ever be used for you-

• Does not use tradional physical punishments. Truthfully he doesn't believe in them- Yes he will be a harsh teacher in training since that is different.

• Laying next to you in the soft silks of bed whispering "Te iubesc" Softly to you. Teaching you the meanings of every word, as well as being more vocally affectionate in this language.

• "Well at least youre learning the language" Mihawk said with a heavy sigh looking at Alucare who got his ass handed to him-

• "Face din nou" (Do it again) Mihawk says calmly tapping his sword clean as Alicare laid on the ground trying to get up.

• "Du-te dracului!" (Go to Hell) Alucare growls out.

• Mihaela is constantly in his arms. He truthfully refuses to let her go, doting on her heavily and seeing her as his star in his sky.

- Mihawk walked into his father's study, raising a brow at seeing the man holding Miha still while going through papers. Mihawk glancing up at his eldest rather quickly-

• He is delicate and handles much of Mihaela nightly upkeep. Letting you sleep throughout the night since you worked so hard during the days.

• Changing diapers, getting bottles, dealing with any midnight fussiness. He handles it all with grace and making sure you sleep- As well as takes this time to clean up the nursery or the bedroom so it's something you don't stress about.

• He will immediately wake up at the first sounds of his darling daughter fussing. Walking calmly to her nursery and always greet her the same way-

• "Scumpa mea~" (My treasure) Mihawk smiling at his fussing daughter. "So beautiful, like your your mother-" before scooping her up in his arms.

• Spoils Mihaela fucking ROTTEN- The whole house does really but Mihawk is the worse..

"Seems girls ate favored in this family" Alucare muses, his words having no mallace and just a simple jest at how his sister was so heavily spoiled. Mohawk raising a brow at this and staring at his child-

"Favored?" He questioned rather calmly.

"Yeah like favorite chil-"

"No-" Mihawk said calmy but firmly, cutting off his son. "Miha is my Sun, Bright, Innocent and Sweet but clearly with a fire of an attitude. You are my Moon, Smart, Ambitious and Loyal but can be cold. And your mother, She is my sky. Day or Night she guides me and holds the two most important things in my life. You are all equally needed and important to me. Without one or another all would be lost" He clarified rather sharply.

Alucare face getting a hint of pink at the rather kind words his father spoke. Now unsure how to respond or explain to his father he was just making a joke.

Bonus!-

Mihawk notices his cigars are missing- While he doesn't personally smoke he does have expensive cigars for guest or have gifted to him as gifts-

He knew he had counted 30- yet he had only 27 in his collection. Irritation hitting him as he closes the box and calmly grabs his hat-

On the otherside of the Island, Alucare is sitting on one of the old abandoned pillars- a place he had turned into his hide out were he could relax. Currently with one bottle of wine he had snuck from his father's secret stash and a cigar.

This had turned into his favorite pass time. Drinking directly out of the bottle and taking a mouthful of smoke as he sat there looking over the gloomy island-

However this was soon to end when a menacing shadow with glowing yellow eyes stood behind him- Alucare feeling his hair stand up on end as he slowly turned to see the invision of the devil himself there.

"O să număr până la trei-"

(I'm gonna count to Three-)

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #dracule alucare #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk

452 notes · View notes

winstonsns · 4 months ago

Note

i read your cuteness aggression for the curtis!reader and i’m in love! can you maybe do preferences with a curtis!reader who’s a year younger than pony? thank you and have a wonderful day/afternoon/night! ☺️

the gang and 13 year old curtis!reader (request)

pairings: ponyboy x reader, johnny x reader, soda x reader, darry x reader, dally x reader, two-bit x reader, steve x reader

warnings: cussing

authors note: this is strictly platonic guys!! i feel like i’ve been falling off lately LMAO. i hope u guys enjoy though 💗

word count: 1.0k

PONYBOY CURTIS

the two of you are the closest in the gang, being the closest in age and him being a protective older brother to you

he doesn’t always feel the closest to his siblings because him and darry are always arguing, soda’s in the middle and doesn’t interfere anymore

but you’re always one to comfort pony after he gets into a heated argument with his oldest brother

he helps you with homework a lot since you’re not far behind him, he helps you study and get super high grades so darry isn’t on your ass for shitty grades

pony also reads you books when you’re stressed, it’s also just something he enjoys doing in your presence

quality time means a lot to him because his brothers are never home, he’ll read a magazine or do homework in a room with you, it gives him a sense of safety

JOHNNY CADE

the two of you aren’t exactly the closest in age but you talk to each other about everything

you and johnny hang out at the lot and sometimes fall asleep there, when you wake up, you direct him to your house so he can sleep there too

sometimes he’ll give you little gifts for fun, remembers a lot of things you tell him

if you talk about a book or item you want once, he’ll get it as soon as he can

he really appreciates your friendship and will do anything to keep it and strengthen it

probably let’s you borrow his switchblade even though he always has it on him, has backups too

SODAPOP CURTIS

he’s the most annoying but loving brother to you, always asking you if you have a partner yet and teasing you if you do

“ooooh.. who were you hangin’ out with today, y/n? you like them?”

“soda, i’ve been friends with them for years!”

“yeah, but do you like them?”

he’s the embodiment of the trend ‘i know love is real because (name) is real and they are full of it’

soda makes sure you have a lot of attention and love, doesn’t necessarily try to replace your parents but is somewhat nurturing to you

he doesn’t rant to you often because he knows it can be overwhelming, you’re just a kid, as he puts it and shouldn’t be dealing with others problems

sometimes he’ll take you to the DX after school so you can gossip and you can learn about working

DARRY CURTIS

darry’s your eldest brother and is extremely protective of you, always checks up on you and asking about your day

he has the same expectations for you and ponyboy, he checks over your homework but is calmer with you

he wants you to be with some sort of guardian wherever you go, even if you’re walking down the street for fun

he knows it’s not the safest for you to be alone, especially at night

because he doesn’t have the best relationship with his brothers, he makes cake with you more often than he does with the others

he does not let you participate in rumbles, he says it’s way too dangerous for you to fight

DALLAS WINSTON

he fucking hates kids so it’s a surprise he enjoys your presence

you remind him a bit of himself, you’re a bit of an ‘outcast in the outcasts’ because you’re the youngest and told you can’t do anything

so dally teaches you how to live in case you ever get put on the streets, teaches you what to do in the worst case scenarios

he’s hard on you though, it’s tough love and he can get really frustrated if you get hurt or in trouble because he’s taught you how to protect yourself

steals random stuff for you, most of the time it’s candy or random sweets like popcorn from the drive in, sometimes it’s a drink

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

you remind him of his younger sister, he feels obligated to protect you in some way

most of the time, soda and darry are working so they aren’t home most of the time, pony’s hanging out with johnny so keith watches over you

sometimes he calls himself your babysitter because he thinks it’s funny, it’s even better that he knows you’re fully capable of taking care of yourself

he’ll tell you super inappropriate jokes and when darry’s there, he’ll smack him on the back of the head

“two, knock it off. she doesn’t needa hear that stuff!”

“i didn’t even do anything, super—“

he steals stuff for you too, whether it’s something related to your studies or a random item you want for some reason

STEVE RANDLE

originally didn’t want to be around you, he doesn’t want to be around ponyboy and you’re with him all the time

but eventually, steve warms up to you and lets you hang out with him and the gang sometimes

he’s actually pretty smart and not many people expect that from him, he helps you with homework even though he can get frustrated at times if you don’t understand

if you’re into cars, expect him to teach you all about them and for him to invite you to the DX

maybe he lets you help him fix some of the cars, of course you won’t get paid money, instead snacks he gives you for free

soda will come up to you in the morning as you’re barely awake, talking to you

“steve said to come to the DX after school, gonna teach you some stuff about cars.”

206 notes · View notes

zepskies · 11 months ago

Text

Smoke Eater - Part 15

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁

**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.

If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!

Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.

Part 15: “The Good Part”

“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.

His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.

“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.

“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.

Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.

The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s” men busted for all manners of bullshit.

“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”

“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”

Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”

Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.

“Dad, it’s your move.”

Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.

“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.

Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Daniel just smiled.

It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.

Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.

Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.

You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.

If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.

“How old were they?” you asked.

Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”

You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”

Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.

“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”

Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”

Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.

Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.

“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.

Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”

Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.

“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”

Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.

“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.

He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.

“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”

Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”

She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”

You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.

“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.

“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.

You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.

You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)

Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.

“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.

“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”

Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.

“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”

You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.

“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”

“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”

Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.

“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.

“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”

You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”

He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.

“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.

Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”

Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.

“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”

“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”

You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.

“What model is this?” you asked.

“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.

He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.

What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.

“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”

Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.

His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”

It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.

“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.

You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.

You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.

“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.

“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”

He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.

You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.

“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”

Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes.

“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.

It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.

“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.

Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”

When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.

In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.

John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”

“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.

There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.

“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.

“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.

“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.

Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.

“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”

You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies.

“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.

You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.

Or as Dean would say, Your people.

To you, that was life.

“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.

You shot him an amused look.

“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.

Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.

“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”

Your brows raised. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”

You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”

“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.

You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.

“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.

Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).

“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”

You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.

Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.

He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.

But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.

Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.

“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.

You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.

“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”

He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”

“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.

You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.

“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”

“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.

You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.

“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”

Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.

“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.

John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.

In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.

Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.

By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.

You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.

Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.

You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.

Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.

“Are you asking?”

He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.

“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.

He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.

“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”

“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.

“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.

You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan.

First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.

You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.

By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.

Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.

“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.

You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”

He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.

“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.

“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.

Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.

You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”

You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.

“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.

Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.

“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.

Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.

Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.

“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”

Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh.

“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”

Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.

“Just relax.”

You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.

You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.

Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.

He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.

…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.

When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.

He groaned deep, surprising even himself.

Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”

Dean chuckled. “Never.”

You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”

“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.

Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.

You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.

You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.

“I love you, you know?” you said.

Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.

He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”

You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.

He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.

You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.

Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.

You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.

You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.

But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.

There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.

You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.

You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.

You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.

But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.

“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”

He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.

Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.

It was a heady feeling, and you needed a moment just to recover. Even though you were on birth control, every time he came inside you still felt like a dangerous, delicious game.

But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.

It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…

“You like kids, huh?”

The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.

Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.

He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.

Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”

“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”

He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”

Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.

“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.

You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.

“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.

“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”

You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.

“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”

He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”

You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.

“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.

Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it.

“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach.

“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”

He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”

He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.

And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”

Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.

“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”

AN: All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?

...Ready for some more drama? 😏

Next Time:

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

Keep Reading: PART 16

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#The Good Part #Smoke Eater #Part 15 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #Sam Winchester #eileen leahy #john winchester #zepskies writes

470 notes · View notes

scentedpepper · 5 months ago

Text

Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter

BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER

Summary: Max Mayfield hosts a pool party.

Content Warnings: Use of the F-slur, Use of Queer in a derogatory manner, Injuries, Verbal Abuse, Abusive Household Dynamics, Reader makes a 'if I wanna kms' joke

Other Pairings: Nancy Wheeler x Male Reader, Jonathan Byers x Male Reader, Max Mayfeild x Male Reader, Mike Wheeler x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Oh brother we got a chatterbox

Had a dream about this ya'll

Readers a little sassy

Reader has a little brother

Reader has a bit of savior complex

Readers also kinda impulsive?

It's 3 am

_________________________________________

The grass was rough and patchy in the backyard, filled to the brim with wilted daisies and weeds crawling through the sprinklers. It was hardly worth a note of much consideration, as there had been nothing of great importance to discuss. There were many trees boarding the house. Pine or oak, maybe. And one dying cherry tree that was a stand alone in the yard. That was about the extent of anything substantial past the old silver fence that matched your shoes.

Nearest the house, under the shade, were several lawn chairs designated for the so-called "chaperones". The older brothers and sisters of the tweens. But really, it was nothing more than a cover-up.

Something to appease the parents' of the Hargrove house because Max knew it was odd to be friends with a group of kids the same age as her brother. Even her mother, who'd tried to remain impartial to any situation, narrowed her eyes and shifted her purse tighter when the suggestion of more than a couple 17 year old's parading around her house came.

Your mom was just happy you got along, let alone made some real friends outside the books, and encouraged the notion. More parental control, she reasoned. Less chances you were off with someone who intended on trouble.

Of course, all the shit about fighting monsters and being on the brink of death with these same friends wasn't factored in.

But no one besides them and the sheriff's deputy needed to know that.

The first time you had met the kids was, admittedly, what one would refer to as a kerfuffle. Riled up and trying to be dominant. Of course, because Billy was there, it spiraled even farther, and someone's head nearly got bashed into a rock.

That someone being you of obviously, after you'd been goaded into the fight and decided to step up. And boy, did Billy hate to lose. Hated being talked down to by a smaller kid who barely had pimples left on his face, let alone bulk.

You put up a good fight. You had a mean hit, especially the lick you gifted to Billy's chest, knocking the wind out of him when it connected. There was a bruise on his ribcage for days after and all the satisfaction he could possibly imagine at knowing it was from you.

But then he nearly killed you so, things turned sour rather quickly.

Which led to a rather impromptu welcome into the group of misfits, the lot of them. Unannounced and unexpected, you marched into the party after your small break down. Ready to be let in and accepted.

Finding out about the Upside Down was a mere accident.

You hadn't gone out of your way to befriend a group of children. Hadn't expected much in regards to friendship period even after getting your ass kicked by Billy Hargrove. Let alone a lifetime, one built from the shared experience of the horrors that lurk just underneath town, attached to one particular boy of the group.

But here you were. Standing in the backyard of Max's home like an idiot with the sun bearing down at your back. The late summer day nearly reached over 100 degrees as the clock neared the noon hour. Something you might have missed otherwise if it wasn't for the black analog watching you closely every time you renetered the house for a drink.

The main gaggle of kids swam and screamed every few seconds, trying to drag you into a half-baked game of Marco Polo that had the older Hawkins teens eyeing each other with concern.

You tapped the top of your can to ease the anxiety, looking around the edge of the yard again, past Max's mother, who waved awkwardly and would come around every so often, offering drinks or food to you, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Nervous?" Jonathan prodded in his way, looking up from the half eaten sandwhich Will had taken two large bites from, making sure he had gotten his fill and packing it away when he received two big thumbs up from his little brother before he rentered the pool.

"Ah. " You leaned against the lawn chair, rolling your neck before looking over. "Expecting Billy to jump out from one of these corners, " you gesture towards the many hiding places you have spotted in the yard. "cause a scene. "

Nancy shifted uncomfortably, twisting her skirt slightly. "Not yet, at least. " She added while fidgeting with the button over the waist. "I thought he'd show up at least half-way through this thing. "

"Yeah, " you agreed, "thats why I'm–"

"On edge?" Jonathan filled in for you, a soft smile gracing his lips as Will looked over.

"Ready, he means. " Mike piped up, his hand was fully plunged into the cooler chest, blindly shifting around the ice as he looked over at the three.

Something in the tension held firm in the pit of your stomach, because the only times that this happened was whenever a confrontation was supposed to take place.

And judging from all the past events that had occurred, however mundane or fantastical they may be, this was probably going to end badly in more than just a couple of ways.

You'd managed to keep pretty calm in the past concerning Billy. Kept a level head about whatever shit he'd decided to cause that week. But something felt wrong today. That air in your gut had been hard to shake.

And the fact he had yet to make an appearance so far, did very little in easing you. And apparently everyone else involved.

"Don't know what his fucking problem is. " You curse, sitting up in the chair, "Never waits long to start shit."

In fact, you can almost pinpoint the time he entered the premises, an excuse to blame him for the sudden tightening in your gut and the goosebumps on your skin. Yet, he hadn't entered the backyard once since he got home. He stayed holed up in his room the entire day and that much was evident every time you, or Nancy, or Jonathan or one of the kids entered the house and heard the rock music blasting from his bedroom.

He hadn't even made a shadow to have showed his face.

For hours you waited.

Hours of worry and unease ate away at your gut while the rest of the party commenced unhindered.

And yet, it seemed all but for nothing in the grand scheme of things. Because as the sun started to lower from its zenith, you and the rest grew more tired and eventually, the temperature started to cool to a point where splashing around in the pool was no longer appropriate.

The kids came clamoring out, dripping in more chemicals than water, screaming and laughing in the process. It was getting near the five hour mark by then.

Your mind was heavy when you stood up to go inside, nearly tripping when your eyes clashed with the eldest person in the home, the both of you freezing awkwardly in the middle of the walk.

Both you and Max's mother were silent in each others presence. Stoic if there was ever a word for it.

Neil always seemed to be staring off into nothing, zoned out to some far away place only those who drowned themselves in alcohol and other momentary pleasures existed. They didn't interact, besides maybe the occasional conversation starter, or nod in passing whenever a person came too close for an inch of comfort. Not unusual in your opinion of strained marriages.

You began to speak, went to get yourself out of this weird positioning you've seemed to found yourself in. But Susan beat you to it.

"Can you do me a favor?" She beckoned before turning around and trotting off into the kitchen. Already assuming you would listen. You usually did. There weren't any hidden agendas for her actions and nothing against you personally.

She held some power that you wished wasn't. You would take just about any job that required you to be away from the current obstacles of your personal life. But as she turned back to look at you with that indescribable air and knowing nod, she had beaten you.

"Whats up?" You replied, voice more gravely then you meant it to be as you walked up behind her. She was sticking something into the microwave.

"Bye, Y/N/N. " Nancy had emerged from the Hargrove bathroom when she stood on her toes to place a friendly kiss on your cheek before joining Jonathan.

"See ya, Nance. " You say as the dark haired girl glided away, passing a wave to Jonathan and then they were out the front door.

The house was mostly empty now with nearly all the kids back home, and Dustin and Max tucked away in her room, waiting for Dustin's mother. There was enough silence now that you were itching to leave. The house had settled quiet, but you couldn't describe it as comfortable. There was a ribbed blanket across the couch that had obviously been sat on by its dishelved look.

The TV was on but the volume had been lowered so much that you were better off listening to Billy's faint music from down the hall for entertainment.

Water rushed from somewhere on the other side of the house and the distinct slam of a door being pulled shut gave you the visual to what you were hearing. Your little brother, most likely. You'd seen him dip down the hallway like he was about to shit himself the moment Nancy exited the bathroom.

You shifted around, placing your backside agaisnt the counter as you found new things to look at. Languidly, you watched, senses picking out different things around the house to latch on to. The light green walls, the ugly brown patterns on the carpet, the hum of the refrigerator that, strangely enough, harbored no family photos, just magnets with various corny sayings.

Your eyes lingered on the fridge.

Everything here was simple. Blank like a fresh canvas of dry paint. Apart from the dishes left in the sink and the few items of clothing to be picked up off the ground, it felt oddly wrong for an occupied residence.

"Y/N?"

A shift in the environment rippled over your skin and something felt charged but not in a fearful sort of way. You're pulled from your small internal worry by the same woman from before.

"Billy hasn't come from his room all day, mind taking this to him?"

Susan's got a glass plate in her hand, slightly extended our towards you. It's filled at every turn with food she'd transfered from the tupperware after the ding of the microwave you hadn't quite heard.

That same gut feeling crawled up your insides again, but you blamed the way your throat tightened on the anxiety. Why it was something now and not earlier, you can't be sure.

But, if there's one thing you learned from movies and popular tv shows, it's never to interrupt the motherfucker when he's listening to rock. But, here's your excuse. So, with a small nod and the plate in your hand, you try to shake it all away.

Because the worst that could happen is you get your ass beat again.

Stepping up to the wood slated door gave your lungs a run for their money. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the atmosphere and the pressure collapsed the walls around you. Only breathing through your nose you shook the fear away with a raised fist to the door, clenched the plate in your opposite hand.

Bass rattled through the floor and past the wooden door, you're graced with the faint sounds of the guitar on the stereo. There were bits of vocals in the background, a baritone voice that spoke. And perhaps that was part of the appeal. Your fingers danced on the metal that resided at the entrance. It felt cool on your skin.

You knocked again after a few seconds. Nothing sounded on the other side of the door but you were still unsure if Billy could hear you above the music. Maybe he'd turn it down once his father returned from whatever place he'd ventured off to in the night. But you didn't exactly have that time to be waiting around, despite your own fathers late tendencies.

You took a moment to think if you should just leave the plate on the floor, let him pick it up, and try to call a ride. You exhaled quickly, shifting your balance onto your other hip.

Before you even touched the doorknob with a single digit, the music turned down significantly and suddenly the atmosphere was more intense than you'd anticipated.

Which, was the new normal.

But, still.

Things felt off. The pressure in your bones caused your limbs to rise upward, to defend yourself, to at least put yourself in some position that wouldn't leave you open to attack.

For what?

You didn't know.

Because all Billy did was peer up at you from the crack in his door. Nothing significant yet his stare was nothing less than striking. Those blue things could put the oceans to shame, rivaling even the sky in its vivid colors. They were a mirror.

They shifted to the food, briefly. Then immediately returned back to you as the speaker could barely emit its sound.

You watched as the boy straightened, sighed and then opened the door wider, leaving the frame unguarded as he trailed off into his room.

The door held open but his gaze disappeared into the space on his mattress, and the music lowered a touch, no longer loud enough to break the door from its hinges but loud enough that Billy had to raise his voice over it to be properly heard.

You took a cautious step forward after staring at the boys backside, his attire didn't leave much to imagination but his half nude state was the least of your discernment seeing as one, you were fashioned the same way and two, Billy Hargrove was wordlessly inviting you into his room.

You thought maybe this was some kind of trick, a ploy to get you cornered, so your eyes danced over him in brief, consistent glances as you proceeded forward.

He was sitting by his window, a cigarette stuck between his two fingers as he silently stared off into the the darkness the world outside offered.

It was strange. Seemingly off guard as he propped the knee of one leg against the window, giving a free range to his left to lean. Hair swept over the shoulder to show part of his sharp jawline, which dimmed only with each intake of the deadly nicotine.

The room was bland save for a few posters, white walls, brown dresser pressed against a corner and a night stand tucked at the opposite. Clothes were tossed about, either on the floor or hung up half assed on something that you could only guess as a proper hanger.

His nightstand was covered in trash and empty beer cans and you thought of shoving them away before deciding to place the plate on his bed instead.

You spared him a last glance after the action, perplexed by the fact he was just so— quiet. Which, was certainly odd to everyone at least within half a mile from here. Usually the moment you entered his space, his bubble, he erupted like an animal defending its territory.

You decided not to push your luck. Because right now, it felt like the deadly cat across the African plains simply hadn't noticed you. And so your steps were as carefully placed as they had been when you entered. It was almost relaxing despite the looming feeling from the boys demeanor.

Billy felt a wave, a sort of ripple through the air as the presence of another remained in the room. He didn't bother to speak, only raised the unlit cigarette to his lips in a curious manner and took an unsteady puff, letting the wind carry the smoke out the screen. There was a storm, one he had sensed earlier but was hard to make out amongst the many things that had clouded his mind with anger.

Luckily, the only thing he could blame his outburst on earlier this morning was exhaustion, a clear sign of his lack of sleep from the night before which would easily explain his half dead posture and irritability that had pissed off nearly everyone around him.

Another explanation for his hideout in his room but one you couldn't quite understand.

You neared the exit when the floorboards creaked just as they had before and you almost wanted to freeze in your place. Like the cat would come pouncing now, mauling you to death.

"Not gonna make a show of it?" Came Billy's voice, it was low and calm but you caught the slight strain of it. As if he needed a clear of his throat to even be fully heard.

"A show of what?" You cast a glance over your shoulder, brows knit.

The blonde gestured with his lips, the subtle shift in his elbow drawing attention to the stick of tobacco. "I was waiting for some goddamn spectacle, L/N. "

"I don't know what you're talking about, Billy. " You sounded exasperated already and you stepped over a black shirt with a design you couldn't quite decipher from its crumpled up state. You made sure not to add anymore scratches to the ground and turned around, placing your back firmly against the door frame.

Billy's muscles became tense with the new body turned on him and he felt the wave again, the stirring of new energy entering the atmosphere.

But you had simply done so so that your back wasn't uncomfortably to him when you left.

"Whatever. " Was all Billy seemed to say before shutting you out, shoving that fucking piece of shit plate away from him. And in the split second your brain focused on how fast food was supposed to get cooled and not nearly three seconds after swallowing his cancer stick Billy must've caught the attention of the devil himself.

There was no denying the jagged yell, the shuffling in his voice like someone was gripping his head and holding it under water. You jumped away, eyes as wide as saucers as Billy's bedroom door flung open, smacking the adjacent wall with a loud slam that nearly cracked the plaster from the force.

And yet, his voice was a lot less louder than his grand entrance. "Hey, shit face. Why don't you make yourself useful instead of sitting around all day, having our guests, " he gestured to you, "bring you your own fucking food. "

You moved a step back, almost tripping on your own footing from your struggle to balance yourself without the solid sense of feeling. Your eyes darted frantically between the two people within your viewing distance, and you could barely make out Susan a few feet away who had her hand clasped on Max's shoulder.

She was ushering her daughter to their bedroom but Max refused, and the red head stood beside the door with a wary look.

"Get up. And give him a ride home. " Another gesture to you and when you looked towards the entrance of Billy's room again Neil was taking up the entire frame.

"That's really not–" You began but stopped as both of the parents turned to look at you with an appalled look. It was nothing personal but you doubted Billy even knew where you lived and the only time you ever rode with him was pervious to when he'd beat your ass.

"My dad–" You tried again.

"He won't answer the phone, much less pick you up. " Susan jumped in, though the hesitation on her voice made you doubt if that was her plan all along. "Your brother got a ride with the Henderson's. "

"Put on a shirt, stop acting like a balless queer, and go. " Again Neil thrust a drawn out, mocking tone, like his son couldn't comprehend basic sentences and he stepped out of the way to make room for your departure.

Billy's got a storm brewing in his expression and there was one moment where his eyes met yours and you were sure you'd drown in all the hate there was.

You didn't get a chance to argue about the amount of time it would take to get there and about how you would manage on your own. In fact, something in Max's eyes told you it'd be better not to. So you pressed your lips against each other as Billy grabbed his keys and pushed past you.

You watched Billy stalk past everyone, a gruff 'Yes, Sir' leaving his lips that you almost hadn't heard as he passed his father.

You exited the room shortly after, not sparing Susan or Neil a goodbye as you gingerly took your shirt from Max's hands.

She made a comment, something quietly spoken that not even your heightened hearing could make out over Billy's obnoxious slamming of the front door that he knew he would pay for later. You watched the young girl as she returned to her room.

Silence welcomed you when you first stepped into the driveway, stretching across the cement with a sense of uncomfortablity that didn't seem to fade as you entered the car and were met with a chilling quiet.

Billy didnt look at you as his ignition roared to life, nor did he speak to you as he pulled out the drive way. He stared ahead, chin down as he leaned just slightly forward, supporting an arm on the side door, palm rubbing soothing circles into his temple.

He was going 20 above the speed limit. You assumed you two were trying to get as far away from the house as you could. But, the further into the neighborhood you went, the lower the numbers on the radio dropped and the more the car filled with quiet music.

Hargrove was completely out of it, lost in some other space where you weren't welcome. And the car had filled with a tension you doubted he'd meant to cause, but given his current mood, you didn't think he could avoid it either.

Despite this, you chose to press yourself against the door with a turned head, the muscles in your body growing taut with discomfort the more you tried to make it seem as if you weren't even of existence in the passenger seat.

You wanted out of the car.

That much you could draw from your mind when you found that the speedometer was at 55 and increasing.

"Billy. " You tore your gaze from the meter, flickering over the silent boy who was intent on looking only at the road ahead.

No answer. His jaw was tightened and set. There were lines buried in the skin.

"Billy. " Your voice held a certain firmness that he didn't quite like.

Silence still and he tightened his grip on the leather, knuckles turning white. The streetlights were getting ready to cast those obnoxious eyes and like a perfect chain of events the little hairs of a certain song burst from the speakers.

His hand, fast with anger, whipped across the volume dial, ceasing the tune and replacing it with the rumble of the engine.

An inhale, then a single word. "What. "

Somehow you think that's the opposite of an answer. It's barely a question. With the tone of voice he held he shouldn't have phrased it that way because he clearly didn't want to know what you had to say, what you thought.

"Stop the car. I'll walk. " It was simple enough and on any normal occasion Billy might've done just that rather than wasting his gas on you. But tonight was different, and Billy, seemingly fueled by his own agitation, just blew past the stop sign and sent the speed at which the Camaro rolled up with you at dangerous levels.

The car vibrated lightly beneath you, air whistling as you tore through the neighborhood at an alarming rate.

"Oh for fucks sake. " It was a mutter to yourself because you hadn't exactly expected the boy to be cooperative but you didn't think you'd be forced to jump out of a moving car again. Yet, here you were; gripping the handle, poised like a god damn animal, eyeing the road as you built up your goddamned gallantry.

You didn't catch the surprise on Billy's face when he noticed you push the door open against the harsh winds.

Fuck it.

You fell with ease and with a soft oof! your limbs were somehow able to stand the blow rather than becoming mangled chunks of meat against the pavement. You could hear the car skidding to a stop five houses down as you took a moment to roll around in your own pain.

Your shirt had rode up on your torso, back pressed against the heated road as your skin made contact with the tar. You had a few scrapes along your spine, one over the delicate hip bone. And you were pretty sure the road had peeled the skin on your forearm all the way down to the elbow but hey, at least it wasn't your fucking face.

A few drops of blood gathered on a pebble directly to your right. Your nose gave a sharp twinge of pain.

"Dick. " You said that in regards to him, for every aspect of his personality. Because Billy Hargrove was what others considered a giant dick.

If you hadn't suspected it before you were sure when you heard the wheels start to turn again, the shift of a gear springing the Camaro back to life. And then footsteps, louder than the car itself, were slapping against the asphalt.

"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" You raised your head, eyes coming to focus on Billy's very fucking pissed form towering above you. Arms crossed defensively, face twisted with irritation as he glared down at you with something close to— well it looked a lot like anger but Billy only knew one of three emotions and that was definitely not concern.

"Fuck you. " You managed through a puddle of blood in your mouth that you promptly spit out, only having realized it was there the moment it began forming bubbles when you tried to speak.

Billy's voice stuttered in reply. "What the fuck is your problem? Do you want to fucking kill yourself or something?! "

"Better than death by fucking vehicular manslaughter on the account of Billy fucking Hargrove. " You muttered, hands pressing into the road to give you leverage when you attempt to stand up. Your body immediately yells a no to this action and you lay right back down on the road.

"What?" Billy is completely distraught in the sense that his brain has seemed to burst due the sheer incomprability of your actions.

"Oh I don't know, Billy, maybe the next time I feel like killing myself I'll call you and we'll go a hundred miles an hour off the fucking side of a cliff. "

The boys eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline as he stared at you.

"Watch me die like an old school movie where they're surrounded by bubbles and colors and shit. "

You spit the last remnants of blood from your mouth and Hargroves face ran red and blue. "Can you fucking shut the fuck up and get up already before anyone sees you. " He demanded, practically dancing around your form. Arms stretched out with a stance that reminded you very much of a gymnast.

"No. No. I think I'll lay here for a sec. " You roll onto your backside, a groan in your voice, arms folding over your body, posed like a corpse.

Billy stops in his antics and stares at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious, yes. " Your voice almost comes out like a sigh.

Billy reels, and if it wasn't for the fact your eyes were sealed shut now, you'd be able to see the absolute bewilderment of the teen as he stood there in the middle of the empty street. Arms half poised over you but not touching your form. As if he didn't know what do with you.

"...Get up. " He demands, standing straight again, his hands on his waist. This time he's not commanding you in that cold manner. There's a little rise to his voice like he's beginning to lose his patience, his forehead furrowing with anger.

You take another few moments to enjoy the silence. You swear you hear a cicada or something squeak from a window sill nearby and the air felt cooler than it has in weeks. Until it all becomes overbearing and your chest burns from a lack of oxygen. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath.

You open an eye to test the waters.

Billy's scowling now, a hand on his hip and the other resting across his forehead in disbelief. At you or the situation, you weren't entirely sure. Both you imagined. But there was a certain look on his face like he was ready to pull some kind of theatric, a reaction, throw a punch to knock some sense into you but ultimately decided against it.

"Where do you live?" He asked the question in such a manner that you couldn't help but be wary of his intentions.

"...Why?" You asked, the caution obvious in your voice. As he loomed over you like that... it wasn't doing a whole lot of trust building.

You almost hear the growl of frustration from his throat as he began rocking on the balls of his feet, hands swinging like he wasn't able to grab hold of something. "So we can fucking go. Before someone calls the fucking cops. "

You still hesitated.

"Before I fuck you up so hard they'll have to identify you by your fucking sperm. " Okay there were his threats. But they lacked the substance of his normal demeanor. He didn't seem overly angry like he typically did but still, his body gave some kind of look as though he couldn't quite will himself to control the way it trembled with adrenaline.

"Nice one, but you're not my type. " Another bite and a second of Billy looking absolutely befuddled as he tried to keep his voice down. His glare had weakened but only because he was taken off guard, and his cocky expression fell to a tight line.

You watched as he took a moment to look around the empty street. The lights weren't too bright so you couldn't make out that typical, telltale flush of his skin that you've grown accustomed to in his anger.

Your eyes flickered across his face, scanning every inch like a beacon. Curiously, you looked at him the same way he always did. Maybe you'd find some sort of answer hidden somewhere behind his icy blues.

The look on his face was strange. Pensive.

"Get up, Y/N. " An even voice this time. Calming maybe. And to think, all it took was a slightly gay comment in order to simmer the violent bastard.

You half wondered where the fag-bashing erratic moron went. Maybe he'd packed his bags and runaway. You could hope.

You did more than that infact, you put that right there on your bucket list, and with a frown, more for yourself than anything else, you looked away from the boy above you.

"Fine. Alright. " Your movements were stiff with pain as you moved to push yourself up by the palms of your hand, your arms trembling beneath the weight. The skin on your hand and forearm burned with a stinging sensation.

Billy watched at your pathetic attempts, a sneer or two on his face but he didn't seem to offer much help until it'd all get too pathetic and he had to reach out and aid you.

"Idiot. " His lip curled as his palm met yours, his fingers holding onto the back of your hand tight as possible.

You stumbled slightly upon becoming fully upright, teetering against Billy for a moment as you took a minute to regain your ground.

"Yeah, well whose fucking fault is that. " You've developed a lovely habit of hissing through your teeth with an unnecessary amount of spite. You're surprised Billy hasn't knocked you on your ass and left you for dead by now.

He scoffs, trying to put as much distance between the two of you while still having your arm linked through his, helping you along. To the ignorant eye, you suppose this would look platonic enough but anyone that knew the two of you well would certainly think otherwise.

Billy's all rigid limbs and stunted movements. Even when you'd finally started to walk on your own and your grip on his arm began to slack, he held firm with a grip like a vise.

And by the time you're at the passenger's side, he's shoving you into the seat and you nearly knock your head on the top of car.

You didn't bother giving a remark when he practically seethed through his teeth, slamming the door in your face. He strode around the car like a man on a mission.

"If you go more than 5 over the speed limit—" You felt the warning die on your tongue when you saw the look of pure anger etched onto Billy's face.

"You'll jump out. Yeah. " His hand came down on the shifter. "Got it. "

There was a part of your brain that you didn't recognize that was screaming in terror, completely and totally convinced you were going to die tonight at the hands of the ever brooding Billy Hargrove.

But much to your surprise, Billy maintains that 5 mile leway the entire drive home even when there's barely a car in the streets. He hadn't muttered a single word since throwing his angry body in the driver's seat.

Instead, he'd cranked up the music all the way as if it'd some how compensate for the lack of speed and conversation, not that there would be much to say anyway.

You hadn't bothered looking at him. He hadn't bothered looking at you. But somehow, in one way or another, the feeling as if you were watching each other was even more abundant in the silence.

Whatever hostility had remained from Billy's mood in the first half of the night had receded back into his depths for later. Though the occasional frown on his face never quite leaves no matter what, his eyes are softer now.

And by the time he's pulling into the dirt driveway of your home, the soft beams of amber and yellow from the streetlights dimly hitting half his face, there's no sign of anger or any real semblance of emotion. It's oddly quiet, and the only thing to really speak up was the steady rumble of the engine.

"Thanks. " You beckon quickly and with reluctantance as you awkwardly grabbed at the door handle, trying to turn as quickly as you could while still maintaining balance. Anything just to get out of his car and away from the guy.

"Y/N. " He voices and the moment you pull at the handle you come to find it's resistance. A dull tingle shoots up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck raises with tension.

You turn, facing the teen who kept an unconcerned façade. He was a calm still pond with blue eyes flickering like small waves in the face of a strong wind, and although most times they were ice and snow that held such a cold, unforgiving passion of arrogance, there were times they were the ripples of a breeze.

Now was one of those times.

"Don't go around pulling fucking stunts like that. "

That was definitely closer to a warning than anything else that had come from his lips the entirety of the night.

"This is coming from the guy who beat my ass into the concrete two months ago. " And at this point, you were too exhausted to be filled with spite for the boy.

His posture falters and not just figuratively. There's a shift to the way he's sitting but the flicker of his eyes remains. Even with you half turned, his stare remained. In fact, it seems to have gotten all the more intense.

"What's it to you anyway? " The way he tilted his head might have been endearing in another life. Now, it seemed to hold meaning, the way a predator stalks its prey with such observant behavior before sinking its teeth into its jugular.

His gaze on you could have bored into your brain, much like a drill for how quick your defenses seemed to start dissolving.

He'd always looked at you like this. Whether or not you caught his eyes on you was by chance.

In class, in the halls, it was all the same to him. He'd get one look and that was about all it took. He'd stare with the attention like an interrogation, as if trying to decode some secret behind your stature, trying to pick you apart bit by bit with those watchful baby blue's of his. And if there was no easy route to doing that he'd dig his little meat hooks into you until there was.

You were all he'd focus on. Not you in particular. More so the idea of you.

Whatever that meant.

Of course the only instance Billy looked at you without fail, hard looked at you like the blue was about to spill out of his eyes and swallow you up like a tsunami, was when he was a little tipsy or riled up with heat and fury. But like most of Billy's emotions, they were very intense. Too intense for something as simple as just a fucking stare. It almost gave you the illusion of a dangerous threat that made your skin buzz with goosebumps, your nerves rattling in their sockets.

He was doing the same now, except, the only difference was that he wasn't pissed faced or smoldering with alcohol this time. In the confines of his car, beneath the yellow white shine of the nearby street lights, he couldn't tear his gaze away even if you begged.

Billy was the sort of thing to stop you mid thought when you glance and feel your limbs freeze, suddenly petrified with all this uneasiness and sudden confusion as to why there was only one sort of definition to put on why you felt such things whenever his presence was met with a hundred paces of distance.

"I..." He starts but his voice falls flat. Something beyond frustration, something between anger and concern. The sort of look that told you he was working something out in his mind. Or he just couldn't find the proper word choice that didn't end in an f-bomb at the end of his sentence.

He's still staring, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, like a candle wick in the night. Wavering. Stuttering. Inconsistent uncertainty.

Like he's just asking for guidance to fill his barren vocabulary, the words never existing like an undiscovered civilization in his brain, unable to conjure up the sort of speech that would get him what he wanted.

An abrupt sense of panic washed over you. You inhaled sharply and you didn't let the breath go until your next move was placed in front of you like a chess piece on the board and you couldn't take the time to think out any future moves on your part.

All of your attention was pulled to him, focused entirely. The way he moved, the way he breathed, it left a tingling feeling trailing behind him like some faint breeze of emotion.

Everything stilled, it was him and you. Him. And you.

And he's just looking at you like that. Mouth halfway opened and the noise of shallow heavy breaths were the only sounds falling from his lips while he's looking at you all wide-eyed, like some fresh-faced virgin whose never seen one in person before.

You cursed yourself. Cursed the wind. Cursed the ground. Cursed Billy and his stupid face. And every corner of his stupid car and everything else about him. You can curse the sun but that'd probably be a step too far. Especially the moment you met those watchful pools of sea foam.

Fucking Billy Hargrove and his stupid, fucking car and his even more stupid...

Lips.

Lips and teeth.

Teeth, pale pink lips.

Blue eyes, long lashes.

Stupid fucking curly hair.

The sort of curly where it always managed to get you by the tips, tangling its brambles in your fingers and refusing to let go.

Which is why the second Billy made a small noise– not even really a noise, it's a breath. A single exhale that hits your nose, hits you the way nothing has before, and it causes a wave of heat to wash over you, overtaking your senses.

You grab those curls, your fingers entwine them and his breath is alot heavier, alot hotter as his hands grip tightly onto your shirt, like he's a frightened child.

His lips are wet.

He's messy.

Sloppy.

Like he's never kissed before in his life. Lips that keep moving, and his tongue is too sensitive, too eager.

Every sharp inhale of breath reeks of sweat and chlorine.

There's no time to stop and make sense of the situation.

He's scrambling over the middle console, desperate hands gripping on your collar and in any other scenario, this would've been the step before he plummeted his fist into your face. But there's hardly anything suggesting that. At least not without the time to see the tiny trail of tears lining Billy's eyes, glossing his cheeks.

He tastes as he looks. Like liquid gold with his tongue rubbing against yours in a hot mass of burning motion. And any semblance of a rational train of thought was chucked out the window.

There was enough room in the front seat for a teenage boy and then some. Billy Hargrove was not such a teenage boy. There was barely enough room to shift and breathe and wriggle around in this half straddle.

You can faintly hear a heavy car pass over a mound in the road, an off balance tire or perhaps someone forgot to inflate it and the uneven troll on the road, not entirely deafening, but it's there. And Billy hears it and he jumps from you, leg grazing the shifter, head knocking into the top of the roof.

His ears are steaming red as he all but falls into the driver's seat, face flustered and hair slightly disheveled.

He's looking around like a wild animal caught in a trap and he can't escape, eyes flickering back and forth; from the gearshift all the way to the rear view mirror and then to your face.

Pupils shot open, dark and wide, and a hand coming up to press on his forehead, eyes squinting.

"Billy‐ " It's a start, but it doesn't stay long enough to be deemed a full sentence, not with his name lingering on your lips while you try to swallow down the heat in the pit of your stomach. Billy's looking at you, breathing heavy.

"Get out. " He mutters forcefully, the lock clicks open and when his hand comes up to rub across his face, it's shaking.

"Billy. " More insistent this time.

He looks a few shades redder than when he was before, his head snaps back to meet your stare, hair curling beneath his ears in a gentle mess, curls threatening to fall into his face.

"Get out!" His voice pitches, breaks into something close to a sob and Billy swings his arm wildly, fist connecting with the steering wheel and there's a loud honk as a warning before he shouts again. "Get the fuck out, you fucking faggot!" His voice reverberates across the entire neighborhood, shattering your ear drums in the process.

There's dogs barking from far away, probably due to the horn.

You hesitated but only for a moment before swinging the door open, just barely missing the opportunity to knock the shit out of your leg by the time Billy decided to slam down his foot on the pedal. The door shuts fast. The car speeds off before it has the chance.

You watched him drive away, with just as much intensity as the boy inside the car watched you in the rearview.

As your house began to shrink away into the distance, and the glare of the car grew smaller and smaller. You could hardly see those searing blue eyes the way you did in class. Though this time, instead of a look of hatred or scorn, it was one of fear and dread.

And maybe, just maybe, if there were more light shining on his face, it would reflect a thousand scenarios playing on his cheeks. Not that you would've been able to tell from all the way out here.

"Fuck. "

#stranger things #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #will byers #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler #max mayfeild #dustin henderson #angst #billy hargrove is gay

153 notes · View notes

queen-of-deans-booty · 1 year ago

Text

Fun and Games

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request something with Jensen Ackles, where the reader is Jeffrey daughter and Jensen wife and the fans asks Jeffrey who he find out about her daughter dating Jensen? Something fluff with funny between them

Summary: Your husband brings you along to one of his panels with your dad, and you make the mistake of telling the fans a prank you pulled on your dad. He has some stories of you, too, and everything comes to light right then and there.

Square Filled: locked in a playground (2020) for @spnfluffbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

“Why’d you have to drag me out to this thing? I could have been sitting at home in the bath reading my book,” you say to your husband.

Jensen wraps his arms around your waist and slides his hands to your ass, squeezing your cheeks before sliding his hands into your back pockets.

“What do you mean? You love coming with me to these things.” These things being conventions with thousands of screaming fans for all kinds of fandoms. You love going with him but you kind of wish you could be at home right now. “I’ll tell you what. If you endure the next seven hours with me here, I’ll give you a massage when we get home.”

“A real one?” you grin.

“Oil and all.”

“Will you be naked?”

“Is there any other way?” he chuckles.

“I love you.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth.”

Jensen leans down and molds his lips against your own. Being married to him is the best thing you could have ever done. There is never a dull moment in the Ackles house. The door to the break room opens and you pull away from your husband. Your dad, Jeffrey, steps inside to steal a quick snack.

“Come on, kids. We’re on,” he grins mischievously.

“What are you up to?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Nothing. I have a feeling this panel is about to be a good one.”

Your dad leaves and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“He’s gonna tell the story again, isn’t he?”

“Probably,” Jensen shrugs.

“He’s told everyone he knows about that damn story but never to an audience. I better not see a bunch of memes tomorrow about it.”

“Knowing the fans, probably. Stay off social media for the next week,” he laughs and walks out.

“It’s not funny! Jensen!”

You follow your husband to where your dad is, and all three of you step on stage to greet all the fans who came to watch your panel. They cheer when they see you, and you take a microphone from one of the crew members. You’re not an actor, in fact, you’re far from it. However, you love the community Supernatural fans have created, and love going to these things with Jensen and Jared.

After greetings are done, Jensen and your dad get into the groove of things. They thank people for coming out here, yada, yada, yada. This panel is very inclusive so a lot of fans have questions about upcoming episodes, your lives behind the scenes, and just funny stories of things that have happened to you. No question is off the table so you prepare yourself for whatever comes.

“This question is for Y/N,” a fan asks once the questioning portion of the panel starts.

“Hi, what’s your name?”

“Jessica.”

“Lovely name! I like your hat!”

“Okay, let the girl get to her questions,” Jensen jokes.

“I’m just giving her a compliment. Calm down, old man.” A round of laughter rolls out. “Go ahead, Jessica.”

“I know you were an extra in this last season in a few scenes. My question is, what’s been one of the funniest moments you remember from filming?”

“Oh, that’s a good question,” you grin. You’re not an actor, but you’ve been in a few scenes as a bystander when needed. Jensen loves taking you on set so you can watch, so even if you’re not filming, you’re there to witness their shenanigans. “Okay, you guys remember the episode where my dad guest stared? John Winchester comes back for an episode?”

A round of cheers lets you know they know exactly what you’re talking about.

“You’re really going to tell this story?” your dad asks you.

“I’m telling the story,” you grin. “I’m not sure this is going to make it on the blooper reel or not, but remember the part when Sam was going to crush that small white rock to get rid of John and send him back to the past? Well, we were all super serious and everyone is so in character. Emotions are high and we’re doing our best not to cry. Well, when Jared went to crush the rock, it didn’t shatter as we hoped. Instead, it flew off the table and hit my dad right in the crotch. I swear it was the funniest thing I have ever seen. Jensen, Jared, and I were on the floor in tears.”

“It took us a while to get back into character, but that was a nice break from character,” Jensen grins.

“Oh! I got another story!”

“Really? Another one?” your dad asks.

“So, this was when I was visiting Jen on set but I wanted to pull a prank on my dad since he was coming in that week to film that same episode.”

“Why are you telling them this story?” your dad groans.

“Shh, they’re gonna love it. So, I worked with the director to get him in on this prank. He gave me access to his work email that I then used to send my dad an email regarding the dress code at work.”

You can’t contain your giggles at this point.

“Keep it up, Y/N,” your dad nods.

“Shh! I told him it was dress-as-a-clown-to-work day. Everyone was going to be in costume and we were going to surprise one of the makeup artists since it was her birthday. He believed me.” Everyone starts laughing at what’s to come. “When he showed up that morning in the funkiest clown costume set with the red nose, the rainbow hair, and the big ol’ clown feet, we all died laughing. I even got a video,” you smirk.

Before your dad can protest, you had one of the crew members put it up on the screen behind you so everyone can see. Your dad walks in wearing the clown suit and realization rolls over his face when he knows you set him up. Everyone in the audience is laughing while your dad is smirking at you. You’re not paying attention to him to notice it otherwise you would have turned it off.

“Yeah, so that was a fun day on set.” The video ends. “The best part is, we kept him in that suit all day.”

“You think that’s funny?” your dad asks. Jensen can’t contain his laughter but tries to cover it with a cough. “You wanna go there? Fine. It’s my turn to tell a story.”

“Wait, Dad--”

“No, no, no, you had your fun. It’s my turn now.”

“You’re going to drag me down with her?” Jensen asks.

“You bet your ass.”

You get up to jog off stage when your husband grabs your arm and yanks you back into him.

“Nope. If I have to sit here and endure this, so are you.”

“So, would you all like to know how I knew my daughter was dating Jensen?” Everyone cheers to let him know they are interested. “This was back when I was a regular on the show. Y/N had come on set a few times and was getting friendly with Jensen. I thought nothing of it until one day when I was sitting at home minding my own business.

“I get a call from Y/N where she tells me not to ask any questions and to meet her. I figure she’s in some kind of trouble so I tell her to send me the address and I’m on my way. When she does, I get my beloved baseball bat just in case I need to beat someone’s ass. I rush over to where she is thinking she was at a bar, a friend’s house, whatever. I did not expect to pull up to a child’s playground.

“Still, I’m in protective dad mode. I hear her calling my name so I run over to where she is and stop dead in my tracks. In the child’s castle-dome thing is my daughter, on top of Jensen, naked, stuck in the arch. I mean, I’ve been a little adventurous in my day, but a child’s playground? Seriously?”

“God,” you scoff and shove your face into your husband’s neck.

“Did you call for help?” someone in the audience asks.

“Yeah after about ten minutes of laughing my ass off.”

“Okay,” you say into your mic and pull away from Jensen, “in my defense, that opening looked wider than I thought.” Your dad laughs loudly but you turn to him with a glare. “Don’t start this game with me. I know some shut about you. Better stop now before I tell them about how you mistook some young lady as mom and almost gotten the shit beaten out of you.”

A round of “oohs” sound off, and your dad puts both hands up in defense.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

That incident happened nearly thirteen years ago so you can laugh about it now. You don’t care if people know because it is a funny story. You’re just glad to have stories like that to share. It’s all fun and games, but at the end of the day, you’re surrounded by love.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

463 notes · View notes

its-your-mind · 1 year ago

Text

This is a call to action for all the PJO girlies (gender neutral) that I know are sleeper agents on this webbed site

Go read Trials of Apollo. Go do it. Do it right now.

I know what you’re thinking. “Tbh I didn’t love Rick’s writing towards the end of Heroes of Olympus” “There’s no Percy so why bother” “All of the Argo II crew are kinda OOC” and listen my friends. You are so valid to have those opinions. I felt the same way after Blood of Olympus. But listen to me. Look at me.

Now that you have had some time away, you must give these books another try. For me. For Uncle Rick. For the demon baby grain spirit who is only able to say his own name (Peaches).

Do not worry friends, I do not expect you to read just based on my say-so - I also provide:

A list of reasons why you (yes you) should go read the Trials of Apollo series right now gogogo:

(Spoiler warning - all broad plot things that you learn early on, but I know some people (including me) avoid that shit at all costs)

All the chapters are titled in bad haiku. Ya know that one scene in Titan’s Curse where Apollo just starts reciting apropos of nothing? That’s every chapter title. They’re all so bad it’s amazing.

Apollo is so up his own ass about everything, and it’s so cool to experience the same world through the eyes of someone who is not used to being in amongst the chaos

Oh yeah the plot. That’s a reason to read it.

Okay so

Basically Zeus continues his streak of being a shitty shit parent and decides to blame like… every bad thing that has happened on Apollo, and punish him by turning him mortal and enslaving him to a demigod girl named Meg who is a garbage gremlin with a little demon baby guard named Peaches (see above)

And like the A plot is they gotta save the oracles from shitty old Romans who wanna take over the world (stop me if you’ve heard this one before)

But like the B plot is about what it means to discover that you’ve fucked up, you’ve made mistakes, you’ve hurt people, and you gotta fucking own up to that shit

But also

You do not deserve to be punished for every horrible thing that has ever happened because of you, or even around you, and when a parental or authority figure in your life tells you that, they are an abuser and they are wrong

And yet

It can be so hard to fully separate yourself from them. Because for so long, they were all you had.

But that’s okay, because when you start to learn that the people who were supposed to care for you and love you were not actually doing that, there are people around you who will love you, who will support you, who will pick you up and hold you close and make sure you know that you are okay

And they can’t fix you

But they can give you the safe space to fix yourself

hmm that was an essay about themes and metaphors BUT THATS WHY YOU SHOULD READ IT

also there’s a wikipedia arrow who only speaks in Elizabethan prose (in all caps)

OH ALSO ALSO you get to see Will and Nico being a CUTE AS FUCK couple in the first book. Nico smiles. Also makes skeletons grow out of the ground when people annoy him. Fuck I love this little gay death boy so much.

AND. You get to see so MANY of your old friends. And they still! Get! Plot! And! Character! Development!! Even though they are only there for a little bit

OH OH OH there are two old lesbians who run a halfway house for people who are tangled up in magic shit with nowhere else to go

Did I mention Peaches? I did. He’s my favorite.

OH ALSO. This is “unreliable narrator” executed SO FUCKING WELL. Like, all narrators are unreliable. But Apollo used to be a FUCKING GOD. He has not had to deal with the reality of death all that much. He’s used to people praising his name and bowing down at his feet. But that ain’t happening!! And he is Unhappy about that!! But it also lets there be such a clear juxtaposition between what Apollo believes about himself and about the world and what is really true, which is such a wonderful way to write about recovery from trauma.

Ahem

Anyway it’s just real good Uncle Rick continues to knock it out of the park but he just did something different and we (at least I) needed some space from OG PJO fan brain before I could appreciate how fucking awesome this series is.

OH OH OH and if you like audiobooks Robbie Daymond (hello CR mutuals - yes, this is the one who is our beloved Blue Boi who we (Orym) so desperately need returned) is the audiobook narrator and he is. So fucking good. Absolutely NAILS the dramatic-ass-inner-monologue of this dramatic ass ex-deity. Also nails all the other voices as well. 15/10 audiobook narration I’m lichrally gonna go listen to other books JUST cuz he reads them.

okay why the fuck are you still here. GO. GET THESE BOOKS. If your public library does Libby you can absolutely get them on there. GO FORTH.

#trials of apollo #toa #rick riordan #uncle rick #pjo #percy jackson #pjo apollo #peaches the karpos #robbie daymond

631 notes · View notes

anonymouslosersworld · 2 years ago

Text

Thirst

Fandom: Obey me shall me date

Characters: Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beezlebub, Belphegor, Diavolo, and Barbatos.

Genre: Smut (M)

Prompt: Mc/reader gets into a magical mishap and ends up being hit by an uncomplete/incorrect spell that amplifies their desire. Their desire being a certain someone.

Mammon

You have always recognized how attractive Mammon is. His beautiful tan, firm chest, and his complimentary white hair. His tsundere personality was frustrating but adorable.

But right now his looked absolutely delicious. You could feel your mouth watering just by looking at him. you had been feeling hot and needy for a bit but you didn't want to impose on Mammon when he had company over.

but if you really had to blame someone it was mammon. He knew you found him irresistible when he showed off his demon form. You wanted to pounce on him at that very moment. but his stupid company was taking your mammon's attention for too long and they weren't taking the hint you wanted them to leave.

You bite your lip as you zero in on his abs that lead into his pants hiding the thing you wanted to take a peek at and jump for a good old time. But him having company was making you miserable, the shower you had taken earlier wasn't helping as much as you thought it would.

Your hair was still dipping wet as the droplets were falling to Mammon's black shirt you had taken hostage. It had been hours since you got hit by the spell and nothing had happened. But you found yourself in a certain mood, craving him.

Your face felt hot, in fact, your entire body felt hot. You knew what would calm you down and you were going to get it.

" Mammon~"

" Hang on Treasure."

If Mammon had bothered to look, he might have avoided, the entire situation but Mammon wasn't known for being all that smart. Being denied yet again made you angry, so it was finally time to take what you wanted, what was yours.

"I grow tired of waiting." In an instant, you were on mammon's lap pinning him to his own sofa pulling his hair to his side, and leaving his neck open. The air was thick in tension, It was hard to even swallow.

Mammon looks at you in shock, he almost mistook you for a demon. The look on your face was serious and intimidating. Something he wasn't serious about. "I own you Mammon, you are mine!"

Apparently, a demon reclaiming their stake in their partner. Mammon couldn't lie it was hot but a little embarrassing done in front of the company. well, a company he didn't want but still.

"dismiss them. Now."

"tre-Ah~" Mammon moaned as you bit into his neck " w-wait. ~hmm, fuck!" you had begun unbuckling his pants and started rubbing his cock through his pants. All while leaving hickey's on his neck.

"Leave," you demanded, " It appears Mammon needs to be reminded who owns him."

The company of witches was watching you guys, frozen until you had to address them and they booked it to the door. they knew one thing. Never and I mean Never get in between to get/stop anything done with demon biology including and not limited to claiming or reclaiming in this case between demons.

'" N~No wait! go~oh~ gotta do something. s-stop!"

"you say that but you spreading your legs, trying to wrap yourself around me."

Mammon had not realized it until now but his chest was already marked up and his nippled erected from you teasing them with your fingers. His pants were already off and the witches left had basically left a dusty figure of themselves trying to get out of this room.

His cock was fully erect ready from your teasing, the witches had left two hours ago. you had already made edged him twice and had made him cum over his pool table while you pegged him and made him stain his couch from riding him.

" y/n please~! I'm yours!"

An 8-in vibrator was stuffed deep in Mammon's ass massaging his g-spot while you had stuffed his cock into your hole. The thudding of his bed hitting the wall was heard through the house as well as his pleads. Mammon's hands were pinned to his own headboard. He wasn't able to touch you in all this time.

"Don't worry Mammon as soon as you get milked out of all your cum. I'll leave you alone"

Leviathan

Levi was an interesting case, very interesting. He knew you would be affected by your spell and it made him nervous. There was no way that you didn't want a yucky otaku like him but he couldn't provide anything you were interested in. Yet you were still around. you kept fidgeting with something and wouldn't let him see it. You didn't let him see it not even as the thing absorbed him.

He had every right to be nervous.

Levi's wrists were held by a pair of slimy tentacles while another pair kept his legs spread apart. He could feel the slime trail around his body. The same tentacle that had duplicated into 8 different tenacles, who were now playing with his body as you thoroughly enjoyed yourself looking at him get fucked by your tentacles. Levi was stunned, his body defiled and explored. All he could do was be open-mouthed while his eyes rocked to the back of his head.

"Ack~! Hmm~!"

"so pretty," you say as you cup his cheek, "and your all mine! no Ruri-chan to keep you away from me."

"AHh~"

Levi's face burned red at your words and actions.

The sounds of the tentacles fucking into his now sloppy hole and the other two tentacles rubbing and squeezing around his two serpent cocks. The splatters of his cum drenched the floor, it didn't help that you made your tentacles intertwine with his tail and mess with the most sensitive parts of his tail. He was so glad you stuffed another of your tentacles into his mouth his throat was so sore from all his moaning and declarations of his love to you. He found it a little comforting the rhythm of the tentacle throat fucking him at least it shut him up.

"I can't wait till I fuck you levi. I love you ♡."

Levi was losing himself to the pleasure you brought to him. LOved that you were claiming him. Fucking him so aggressively.

There was still a sting of pain from where you smacked his ass.

This was just like his favorite Hentai.

Satan

The library is for the pursuit of knowledge and is supposed to be quiet.

Satan panted heavily as your hand kept rubbing him in a constant motion. His eyesight was completely covered with his own tie. The cheap cat hair band squeezes his temples from the previous fuck session on one of the library tables. Your legs keep his thighs from closing as his hips rock with the motion of your hand. Satan bites his lip as you apply pressure to his tip.

His own shirt ripped open and clung to the sweat of his body. The buttons scattered across the library floor. His chest was marred with your love marks all over him.

"me-meow"

"good kitty," you say as you loom over his semi-naked body "can kitty cum one more time for me?" your fingers gripped satan's chin as you looked at him.

He shook his head. His own body now aching and cock sore.

"hmm? I guess I did milk the kitty well huh? maybe you'll give me a litter?"

Your hand rubs his stomach

"you'd look amazing full of babies."

Asmodeus

It was a little hard to sometimes tell who was egging on who put all of Asmodeus's followers now knew that there was a reason why Asmodeus was so enticed, charmed, and just utterly smitten by you. The entire day you kinda just loomed around asmo, keeping him company as you messed around and did stuff for his blog. It wasn't until a certain live stream that the effect really kicked in.

"O-ooh Fuck!~"

Asmodeus' legs clammed shut around your head. His back arched and his hand was gripping your head and his sheets. Your tongue was deep into him and your fingers had a tortures stead pace making him go crazy.

" Fuck yess! The way you show your love for me... it's enough. hmm~ to make me t-there!"

He had fucked demons, humans, and tons of other species but he could never ever get over how passionate you were when you decided to claim him over and over again. The red hand prints on his ass cheeks from when you fucking him doggy-style still stung. You kept making him melt with climaxes over and over again.

"I'm going to go f-fuck crazy!"

you raise up from eating asmo's cunt, leaving your fingers still fucking his hole."

"I want you to. I want you to be crazy over me as I am over you. " your lips connect as he tastes himself in your mouth. His legs wrap around your waist. Stopping you from going back down on him.

"fuck me, I want you close."

A lot of people including the prince of devil-dom just knew how down and lustful your claim over asmo was.

Beelzebub

Beel wasn't so sure why you wanted to be on his lap but still didn't deny you as all you ended up doing was snuggling up to his chest and ensuring you were cuddling while he sat on his bed. All he knew was that the spell just amplified your desire and if it was in his capabilities he would do it.

Your hand caressed his biceps and muscles as your nose was nuzzled into his chest.

"I'm hungry Beel." your tone was sultry as your hand played with his hair while the other was placed beside his body. he somehow knew it wasn't food.

Your hands push him down as you straddle him. Your hands slipping his sweater off his body. Your hand grips the edge of shirt of his shirt.

"~n-ngh! d-does this make you feel full?"

"hmm! so full.~"

You directed your intertwined hands on your stomach. you fingertips touch as you smile at him before making him feel your lower stomach.

"can't you feel it beel, you fill me up. s-s~oh nice." You make his fingers trace the bulge that his cock made on your stomach. HIs blush intensifies as the whimper gets stuck at his throat. Beel hips stuttered as he felt his stomach tightening but he ignores the feeling to hold your hand.

Beel has always been a romantic at heart.

Belphegor

"y-y/n!~" belphegor whined as his held your shoulders.

"hmm? what do you need princess?"

"t-this is emb-raah~ssing!~"

"awwe but you like it when I'm fucking your tight little hole sweetie."

Belphegor's back was killing him as you had folded him into a mating press and fucking his cock int that position. it made him feel so weak as you zip tied his hands and placed it onto you neck while you fucked his cock.

"nngh~" the machine you placed on his hole worked hard against his hole making sure to hit his spot. The grip you had on his balls nearly made him cream . The marks you left on his thighs woke a fire that started the whole thing in the first place. Your hand moves grips his thigh and forces his thigh to open.

"A-ah!" Belphegor moans as you smack his ass for not keeping his legs open. His cock throbbed within you as he spread his legs a little more.

"Be a good boy Belphie or else i'll have to punish you ."

Belphegor shook his head no, as he wrapped his legs around you waist.

"n-no. Make me come please!"

Diavolo

Diavolo felt responsible for what happened to you. He decided to personally watch you as you kept insisting you were fine and if someone had to watch you then you insisted it would be him.

He always felt like he missed a lot of crucial social stuff due to his royalty and barbatos. But thanks to you he wasn't missing getting fucked dumb inside the student council room on lucifers desk.

Diavolo's hands gripped your hips as you rode his cock. The things on lucifers desk were scattered on the floor as DIavolo was laying on the desk.

There was a vibrating dildo up Diavolo's ass, and nipple claps on his chest. Your sultry gaze seduced Diavolo and made him feel butterflies in his gut. The lipstick kisses roamed his body, some of them were hickey's.

You leaned down and held Diavolo's head to kiss him as you rocked your hips into your spot. Your kisses suck the soul out of him, well if he had one.

Barbatos

Barbatos was tasked to keep an eye on you by Diavolo. So for the duration of the said spell, he was to be taking care of you making sure you didn't escape your room as you previously had. Knowing that the Seven demon brothers were weak towards you they knew that Lucifer and his brothers would end up caving. The angels were out of the question due to the very fact that apparently, you had a very VERY strong corruption kink towards SImoen and Rapheal. That seemed to have a strong effect on them. Solomon was also out of the question due to some...incident. Which made him the defacto caretaker as Barbados wouldn't cave.

..or everyone thought.

"a-aah~!"

Barbato's gloveless fingers clenched your sheets as he loomed over your bed. Your panties stuffed into his mouth to keep him from being too loud. Barbatos top clothes were pushed past his shoulders and loosely flowed around his arms around his elbows/arms.

"Shh~ Barbatos the young master might hear you.~"

"hmm~!"

"unless of course, you want him to know?

Bsrbatos eyes widen as he raised his head from your bed when he felt your lubricated fingers go even deeper.

"Your so wet, do you like it that much hm~?"

Barbatos tail tightened its grip on your arm and shoulder as your finger begins to pick up speed to abuse his weak spot. He gasped as the toy you had wrapped around his cock began to massage his balls trying to seduce him into yet another orgasm. Barbatos curses his legs as they began to tremble. He blames it on his old age and works for his now weakening knees.

"The poor young master is going to hear you~ He's going to find out you fell astray from his orders," you whisper into his ear

His back arches even more as you curl your fingers within him, repeating the motion before kissing his neck. You add yet another finger in him. He was well aware of your knee placed between his legs as he spreads his legs wider so that your fingers glide easier into him.

" He's going to know that you fed into my desire for you."

"N-ngh!~"

"That you offered yourself up to me."

The firm grip on the base of his tail makes his legs give out almost begin enough to make him cum.

"O-oh!!~"

Barbatos bites down on your panties in order to quiet himself as he cums. Your tongue swirled around the swell of his tail. Your mouth sucked harshly as his hips stutter from his climax. With a pop, you release his tail.

" You poor, pretty little thing."

1K notes · View notes