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peachpitfics · 6 months ago

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Cruel Summer

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Following your romp with Benedict Bridgerton in his art studio, he asked your brother for your hand! Now you're on your honeymoon, and you're getting a little bored, posing for him. A lady must find ways to amuse herself!

Length: 2.1k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, light bondage, food play.

a/n: This is an anonymous request for a continuation of 'Guilty as Sin'.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Benedict Bridgerton escorting you to view his artwork, at his private studio, was just the beginning of your story. After sneaking around behind your family’s backs for a small while, Benedict gathered enough courage to ask your eldest brother’s permission for your hand. This seemed strange to the y/l/n family, not one of them had ever seen the two of you together, which showed how much attention was paid to the middle child. Benedict made sure to ask you in the Bridgerton drawing room, just before family tea, for everyone to see. He made such a big to-do, confessing his love to you, before every member of the Bridgerton family in attendance. It felt particularly safe there, amongst people who took interest in who you were as a person.

It was bittersweet to have siblings who offered their time, their attentions, and their hobbies freely. You learned so many new things from each of them, from pall-mall, to sewing, even horse riding. In six months, you were married and moved into the Bridgerton house for the meantime, until after your honeymoon. You would never outright tell Benedict you did not want to move out, but he felt it, he knew.

“My love” Benedict whispered, shaking your shoulders gently. Honeymooning in Paris was something the two of you had instantly agreed upon. So far, two weeks of sleeping late, making love, and eating copious amounts of divine food was your only concern. Of course, there were a lot of other lovely things Benedict had planned for your honeymoon – river boat rides and romantic dinners, every moment between locations filled with fine bread, wine, and cheese.

“Yes, my love?” You grumbled, rolling away from him, clearly having not had enough sleep.

“You must wake up, it is midafternoon!” Benedict exclaimed with a chesty laugh, rolling you back into him and tickling your sides. You howled with laughter, pushing him away playfully, leaning up to distract him as only you knew how. His lips were warm and wet against your own, seductive, and luscious.

“You must come downstairs! The housekeeper has left us a feast and I wish to paint my gorgeous wife” Benedict slid his hands around your naked body, lifting you out of bed as you groaned.

“Again?!” “My darling, I’ll be painting you until death takes me” Benedict chuffed, sliding sideways between doorways and down the stairs to the sitting room.

“What if death takes me first?” You smirked back, figuring you had him cornered here.

“I have made God promise I am to go first. And even so, I’ll have every detail committed to memory and these paintings and sketches of you now to keep me company” Benedict squeezed you in his arms, he didn’t like to joke about parting ways, in any sense. It was his truest nightmare, his deepest fear.

Benedict set you down in the sitting room and gestured to what he and the house keeping staff had readied. Paint, canvas, a staging area - littered around the room were bowls of fresh fruit, bottles of wine, candles surrounded by plates of cheese, oil, and bread. You relaxed back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you, cupping your breasts sweetly. You giggle a little, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He nodded to your position for the rest of the day, a chair with the back faced to a very high window, casting a streak of sunlight down upon the spot.

There you sat, for hardly an hour before your mind began to wander, circling Benedict in your mind like a shark in open water. You had learned to become comfortable being nude for long periods of time these days, however Benedict had learned nothing of your persuasion or power when your attentions were dashed. Your movements started slowly, daintily taking your hands to your knees, and spreading your legs wide upon the chair. Resting a little, relaxing your back and cupping your own breasts. Your fingers gently grazing your nipples. But nothing, no attention from your husband. He sat close to his canvas, squinting into the detail of his work, his realm of perception clearly inhibited. With a huff and a light moan, you continued to palm at your own breasts, fingers trapping your nipples in a pulling motion- you decided to pretend Benedict wasn’t here. Suddenly, taking notice, you watched as his brush left the canvas, his mouth hung open a little and he removed his glasses, almost tossing them to the floor.

“What are you doing, darling?” He mumbled, swallowing hard. Your hands ran down your mid-section, over your belly and down your thighs sensually, soft mewls slipped from between your lips. Benedict loved the sounds you made.

“I’m just amusing myself, continue on with your painting my dear” Your replying comment was nonchalant in the best way. Benedict almost looked offended that you would suggest he could go back to painting.

“How do you suppose I paint, while my wife ravages her own body before me?” He blinked at the audacity of you.

“Well, dear one, this is what you have chosen for this afternoon’s activities… Now, you must endure” You smiled, sliding your hand between your legs, dipping your finger in the wet warmth there. Benedict shuddered, wishing any part of him were exchanged with your finger.

If there was anything you had learned about Benedict in the last six or seven months, it was that his desire for you was consistent and all encompassing. Benedict watched on as your fingers circled your clitoris, you moaned and exhaled gently - his paint brush never did return to the canvas. Beads of sweat formed on his brow line, the hot, French summer finally taking its toll in the late afternoon. You reached to the small stool next to you, extracting the tiniest jar of honey. You looked into Benedict’s eyes, holding the jar above your body, dangling your head back and pouring a steady stream of honey over your chest. The sun glistened, reflecting little pools of light off your sticky, sweet skin.

Taking your finger, you swept up your belly from your navel, placing your finger on your tongue in clear view of him, and that was his very last straw. Benedict threw his paintbrush to the ground, thrusting himself up and out of his chair, to march across the room to you.

“What do you think you are doing, wife?” Benedict’s voice rasped, his eyes were so dark, the colour had all but gone.

“Playing, my love” You replied cheekily, sucking another nip of honey off your finger. He all but growled watching your finger slip between your lips, his breath quickening in sheer lust for you.

“Are you punishing me for getting you out of bed?” Benedict’s face was so close now, his nose tip to tip with yours. There was such tension in his jaw, his teeth clenched hard in his fierce need of you. You fluttered your lashes back at him, refusing to answer with your words.

“Do you have even a semblance of an understanding of what you are doing to me? This is unbelievably cruel,” He breathed heavily down on you, desperation flooding his body and adrenaline surging behind, “You can’t begin to imagine the things I want to do to you right now” His stubble gliding across your ear and cheek, making you shudder.

“Show me then,” You challenged, “You are my husband after all”.

Benedict’s hands slowly moved to his shirt, shedding it, and throwing it somewhere behind him. He acted with a sureness and a strength you hadn’t yet experienced, but it was drawing you in. Undoing his pants, Benedict took his hard member into his hands, stroking himself against your chest, lathering it in honey. His other hand wove into your hair, tangling the perfect hold, bringing you forward.

“Oh. Goodness. Seems I’ve made quite a mess of myself… Wife, help me clean it up” He smiled smugly down at you.

Something feral, untamed, was unleashed inside you, your eyes darkening, “Certainly, my lord”. As your tongue reached out to meet his tip, his head lulled back in pleasure, his hand still wrapped around the base of him. Your lips parted slowly, encasing his first inch, and swirling your tongue around to suck the honey from him. Benedict exhaled headily, his breaths deep, but quick with the slightest grunt mixed in. The way he sounded, even now, made you wetter and wetter.

There was something maliciously keen in Benedict’s eyes as he watched from on high, your pretty mouth sucking all the honey off him and then some. His body gently rocked forward, his hand heaving your head forward, onto him in a more perverse manner. His head hung back in greedy caution, grasping to the very last straws of his gentlemanly nature as you sunk to the base of him, your tongue wriggling slyly underneath.

His fingers grew taut in your hair, reefing you backwards. His laugh was low, both impressed and challenged by your ministrations. In the next moment, Benedict had hauled you up and over his shoulder, he was charging up the stairs, mad with temerity.

Entering the bedroom, he threw you down on the bed, scrambling for any piece of material in reach, he began ripping. Four pieces of silk fabrics in his hands, he loomed over you in profound ownership. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, Benedict taking each wrist and ankle, tying them to each to their respective corner post of the bed.

“There” He stood, hands on his hips, proud of his work, “There’ll be no more of that”. Clearly touching yourself had had a dire effect on Benedict’s work ethic.

Kneeling between your thighs, his naked body unjustly out of reach, Benedict’s supercilious smile sick with goofy dominance. He thumbs over your folds, his finger descending, extorting whines of pleasure you never knew existed within you. Broad strokes of the most painful, unapologetically evil gratification. Benedict’s tongue flicked over his lips hungrily.

“I need you” The words escaped you violently, the thrill of his touch, his charming smile becoming all too much for you. He ignored you and continued another moment or two, reducing you to a begging mess beneath him.

“Shall I oblige you, my marvellous bride?” His grin was jubilant and all knowing, his hands came down on your wrists, pressing them into the bed. Benedict’s brutal, familiar kiss sown into your lips permanently, as he pushed inside of you with surprise.

“Y/n” He groaned, growled with unrepentant lust. Your eyes cast wide, the length of him stretching you mercilessly while he thrust in and out. His villainous face claiming your entire consciousness as he used your body to his pleasure, decadent facial expressions, and damnable sounds he was delivering straight to your right ear.

“You feel unimaginably perfect” Benedict groaned, your moans joining in alongside his.

Hands grasping for silk to hold onto, you longed for your own release, grinding your hips back against Benedict’s. His movements became more ferocious, keeping up with the sounds you were making. Frenetic energy began to move through your body, your ravenous thirst for him finally quenched. Every muscle in your body engaged in vivid contortion, Benedict pressing into you as deeply as he possibly could before his own body found its own powerful release.

Covered in sweat and honey, you laid tangled together for a moment before Benedict recalled your wrists and ankles were tied. He chuckled with giddiness, sitting up to admire his knots.

“You look fantastic like this, perhaps we should do this more often” He suggested sweetly. His thumb caressed the side of your face, your panting, tired body unable to give a response. Benedict littered your face and neck with loving pecks.

“We could be one person and I still would never be close enough to you. No amount of time with you will ever satisfy me. You are the centre of my world” Benedict whispered gently. Every day you were reminded of the intoxicants his poetic mind dabbled into every sweet thing he said to you.

In another instant, Benedict had sprung from the bed, running downstairs. You laughed, thinking he must be returning with some of the food the housekeeper had left strewn about his romantically planned afternoon. Instead, Benedict returned with a new canvas and his implements. Your mouth fell open all on its own, blinking furiously in his direction as he set himself up off the side of the bed.

“If you could just stay there, like that, that’d be great!” Benedict’s grin, excruciatingly exquisite, and concocting. He held himself with such pride in his agendum, cockiness seemed to fill the room in a potent manner.

“BENEDICT!?” You squealed, tugging frantically on his bindings, your laughter filled with rich resolve.

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tagging: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

If you'd like to be added to this tag list, please let me know!

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vidavalor · 1 year ago

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Crowley actually says a barely-coded "I love you" to Aziraphale back in 2.03

In his proposal in the S2 finale, Crowley told us that he and Aziraphale know they're in love and have known it for damn ever but they pretend they're not a couple. This, by default, means that they've not specifically said the words "I love you" before, by Crowley's own admission. They've said I love you in their own little language and we've watched it before. It's little demonic miracle of my own. It's don't go unscrewing the cap. It's just a little bit of a good person and just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing... But what Crowley says in the S2 finale is that they've never-- ever-- said in 6,000 years is just I love you in those normal people, human words. It has always been too dangerous for too many reasons to count so they have euphemisms for it and whole conversations around it and have made that be enough. Why do I bring this up? Because Crowley found a middle ground between the words and their coded language with one another in S2 and it's flying under the radar.

So you know that scene when Muriel has shown up and interrupts Crowley and Aziraphale talking in the back room? The one where while Crowley is speaking, Aziraphale suddenly looks like he's about to pass out with sheer want? Yes, our angel always looks at Crowley like he hung the damn moon (which he did but lol...) but this scene is different. This scene is like... someone get Aziraphale a chair and a glass a water because he is pupils-dilated, audibly breathing, and eyeing up Crowley with naked want. More than the lust? He looks happy. He looks delighted. You can basically hear his heart race from that look on his face. Why here? Yes, Crowley looks hot. Yes, he's in profile in a way that is a visual parallel to Before the Beginning (which was an inspired choice for this scene.) Yes, he's here with a Plan and taking charge of the Muriel situation and swaying his hips a bit while he speaks. It's not any of that. Those are nice bonuses. Aziraphale likes them. He gets them all the time. It's what Crowley said in this moment. To Aziraphale. Through what he said to Muriel.

Crowley cracks a dry, kinda dark joke that is meant for an audience of one: just Aziraphale. He knows Muriel won't get it. Since Muriel is cosplaying as what they think is a human Inspector Constable and they are here to verify the miracle Aziraphale has told Heaven and so are monitoring them, Crowley quips that Muriel is here to spy on them (since they, well, are, actually) and that he knows that many human police officers like to make a bit of a hobby out of spying on "people in love."

People. In. Love.

In a one-two punch in the same sentence, Crowley called him and Aziraphale queer humans and he called what they have love, using the actual word *aloud* for the first time in 6,000 years. He said he loved Aziraphale in front of an angel of Heaven in a little coded joke but this time, using the coded bit to say the real thing for the first time.

Then, just to hammer it all home and make sure that Aziraphale really knows it was very much intentional, Crowley says 'love' again in the next sentence. He starts going on about how Muriel can come to him anytime with any questions about love and he's happy to assist with their understanding of human love with all of his implied vast, vast years of experience with the subject and how he'll be here to answer their questions, in the bookshop, while Aziraphale drives his car to Edinburgh.

Go back and tell Heaven I'm here, Inspector Constable, I don't give a fuck anymore. *We* don't give a fuck anymore. You go tell The Archangel Michael that I'm who they're going to get managing Angelic Embassy X aka The Bookshop until Aziraphale gets back-- yep, me, former Demon of Hell. The Boyfriend in the Dark Sunglasses. He's asked me to, which is his way of saying he wants to stop hiding and asking me not to sneak out to my car in the middle of the night which hallefuckinglujah, Inspector Constable... Go tell Their Beatitudes that we ravish each other all over the bookshop. You won't even be lying. As Maggie'll put it later in the season: I'm done being afraid all the time. I love him. We're in love. There's your hot intel.

Aziraphale:

Aziraphale: Inspector Constable, be a dear and spray me down with all 700 of our fire extinguishers, will you?

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens meta #good omens 2

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wizzdot · 2 months ago

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*short fic alert* (fic under page break)

Hear me out. Is this….John Price?!

The 141 get home late from a mission, Johnny and Gaz go straight to the showers and Simon slinks off to wherever it is he winds down after a tough few days.

You have been sat on the proverbial bench for the past few weeks with a bullet wound to the shoulder. While rendered useless to the team, you decide to take up a new hobby. So far, the boys have been lab rats for the taste tests of whatever concoction you pull from the oven.

The burnt cookies (that you’d forgotten to put eggs in) that Kyle had whined about almost breaking his perfect teeth. Johnny managed to gobble them up and didn’t seem to understand what the problem was, leading Simon to joke that the man had no taste buds.

Or the time you accidentally used Salt instead of Sugar in the Victoria Sponge cake. Kyle subtlety threw his slice in the bin while you weren’t looking making sounds as if he had enjoyed in. Johnny ate it, making it look so delicious that you were getting confident that your baking skills were finally improving. Simon took a slice back to his room and in the privacy of his own bed, took a bite, and immediately spat it down the toilet. “Christ Almighty, that fuckin’ twat really doesn’t have taste buds” he cursed.

You perfect your skills over the next couple of weeks, with Johnny and Kyle remaining endlessly supportive of your new venture. But the entire time, John avoids your baking attempts.

“Need to watch my weight, love”

“Wish I could have a bite, but I’m on a diet, sweetheart”

“Can’t afford to pile on the pounds at my age, Dove”

They are John’s favourite excuses. You won’t admit it, but it makes you sad. You want to make all of your boys happy. Also, he isn’t even that old for gods sake.

Simon knows that the Captain is avoiding your god awful attempts. But even Simon notices that your skills are slowly improving. He keeps sneaking cupcakes and cookies into his room and this past week, especially, they’d been… alright. Well - apart from the horrifically deformed attempt of decorating a cake like Yoda. It looked like a slimy goblin with wonky eyes - but it tasted ok.

So picture this, they get home from a three day long mission. You’d missed your boys. You’d left your most recent cake on the kitchen counter before going to bed. You climb out from your bed when you hear their tired footsteps heading down the hall.

You poke your head out of the door. Johnny and Kyle come over and give you a soft hug. “Christ, you boys stink” you say. “Fuck off” Kyle laughs, before stripping himself of his shirt “gonna hop straight in the shower anyway. See you in the mornin’, yeah?” he asks. I nod and watch as he leaves towards his room.

Johnny stands, watching Kyle retreat. “I smell even worse than him, hen” he says, trying to shove your head into his armpit. You fight him off and shoo him down the hall.

Simon walks past and gives a small nod, “you might want to go and see Price. He made a beeline for the kitchen” he grumbles, continuing on his way casually.

That comment puts you on edge. Is John hurt? Is he looking for you? You quickly slide on your fluffy slippers and shuffle down to the kitchen as quickly as you can.

The scene that greets you is the last thing you expect to see. The Captain, in a wide stance, leaning one hand on the counter, devouring your Cake (the best one you’d baked so far!!!) with just a single fork. He’d polished off at least half of it, showing no signs of slowing down.

You can’t help but giggle at the scene. “Is it good…?”

“Fuckin’ hell, Love. It’s delicious”

The blush that erupts over your cheeks is immense.

“That was supposed to be shared..” you mumble.

“Not in a sharing mood” he says through a mouthful of cake.

“It’s rude to chew with your mouth open, Captain” you joke.

“Teach me some manners then, sweetheart” he teases, stabbing the fork into the top of the remaining quarter of cake before crowding into your personal space.

“Cakes almost as sweet as you” he whispers into your left ear before leaving the kitchen with a smug smile as you stand frozen in place.

“Oh, I’ve forgotten something!” He mentions from down the hall before turning back and snatching the cake box from the counter. He pauses on his way out, pecking you on the cheek and heading to his office as if that was totally normal behaviour.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t stand touching the spot that he’d kissed for half an hour after he’d left.

Your phone interrupts your frozen state. It’s a text from the group chat.

………..

Johnny: “Kyle, d’ya think Cap told her how he feels yet?”

………

Johnny: “c’mon ya cunt, don’t ignore my message. I know your out the shower I can hear you laughin through the wall”

………

Simon’s voice bellows throughout the hallway “wrong fuckin’ chat, you moron” followed by Kyle cackling and Johnny swearing loudly.

You’re still standing in the doorway of the kitchen, in shock, when the door to John’s office opens.

“Guess you saw that, eh?” he asks, sheepishly.

You nod your head, zoning in on a piece of icing on the corner of his mouth. As if on instinct, you reach up and wipe it with your finger, sticking it into your mouth, before freezing again, realising what you’d just done.

Johns eyes follow your finger, hungrily.

“If you wanted to taste it, you could’ve just asked, love”

#john price x reader #task force x reader #captain john price #price x reader #john price #task force 141 #cod x reader

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loveandleases · 3 months ago

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(So here it is, Cam's birthday post! This takes place when Cam and MC are teens. I struggled to decide when to set it and what scenario to go with but I think this is a good middle.)

Cam flops back on the bed, the phone pressed tightly against his ear as he listens to the familiar ringing. Waiting for the other side to pick up. To hear that familiar voice say his name, something that causes him such joy he was sure it would be deemed unhealthy by others. If he was being honest, he knew that how tight he tries to cling to you isn't the healthiest thing.

What feels like twenty minutes of waiting is more like two, but each second that passes by makes his insides tighten. A part of him always wondered if there would be a time when you would stop answering his calls. Would you tire of him like his family? Would Chris fill your head with so many lies you couldn't bear to even look at him?

Eventually, the phone clicks and his breath catches for the briefest moment until he hears you. "Birthday boy."

"Red," Cam whispers, though he isn't sure why. He's alone in his room at his parents. In a house of a family that treats him more like a stranger. A house he has been stuck coming back to for the past two months thanks to some power trip from his dad. Though he knew he would be escaping it soon, running away from home could practically qualify as a hobby for him.

"Didn't I tell you I would call first." you chided. He knew you meant well, it was a tradition. One would call the other on their birthday, even if the two of you would see each other soon, you still made sure to call. But something about this night had forced him to call you, to hear your voice, to recognize his existence.

"C'mon, you can forgive me this once."

"Aww, do you miss me?" You coo, your tone teasing.

"Course I do. It's been two months Red. That's the longest we've gone without seeing each other since we met. Not to mention, this will be the first time since we were kids that I won't see you on my birthday."

You both grew quiet, neither thinking to fill the void of silence between you, not until a snap of a twig caught Cam's attention. Pulling his whirling thoughts to his open window. Cam sits up, evening out his breathing to better listen. Probably just an animal. "So what did you-"

The sound of rustling near his window causes him to pause, body filled with tension. He's not afraid, why would he possibly be afraid of the idea of someone climbing into his window and possibly slicing his- Alright, take it easy on the horror movies Cam, you're being silly.

A gentle tap on the glass of the window is what eventually pulls him from his thoughts, he slowly makes his way over, each step quieter than the one before until he faces it. Cam leans out, hoping to see what's causing so much noise. Once he does he freezes, what's the old saying, like a deer in the headlights.

"R-"

"Surprise!" You whisper shout, dangerously perched on a tree limb.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Cam reaches for you, hands grasping and pulling you in. You both tumble to the floor your limbs tangled together.

Cam freezes, your faces so close together that you can feel his warm breath ghost your cheeks. "S..sorry. Still, what are you doing here?"

"I couldn't miss your birthday." you grin at him, ignoring the smudges of dirt on your face caused by climbing. It causes Cam to laugh, the first real laugh he's had in months. Not one crafted to soothe his mother's ego when something she says falls flat. A laugh that is not pointed at him when Chris tells a joke and Cam is the butt of it.

He cradles you as if you're his lifeline as if you're the very person that could make being in this cold house worth it because to him you are.

"Hope you don't mind, the only present I bought was myself."

Cam takes a deep breath, wiping away an invisible tear. "I guess it will just have to do." he teases.

With a playful shove, you sit up, pulling your warmth with you. The warmth that Cam tries to grasp with his hand but instead finds the corner of your shirt sleeve. "Promise me something," you whisper, eyes roaming around the room. Compared to that of his siblings the room is bare in comparison. A small bed, a shelf here or there, the walls bare of any coverings.

"Hm?"

"Promise me we'll never miss each other's birthday." at first you think he doesn't hear you. Not with how quiet he gets as he sits up his eyes never leaving you.

Cam sticks his hand out, pinky raised waiting to link with another. "Pinky promise." You suppose this was another tradition, something so simple yet so meaningful to the two of you.

Your fingers curl around one another and Cam winks, pulling your hand up to place a soft kiss. "I missed you." he mumbles.

"Likewise. But more importantly." you turn, hands clasped on the top of your knees clearing your throat as if the next thing you're about to say was of utmost importance. "Cameron Clarke, my best-friend, my ride or die. The Robin to my Batman." "Hey! I'm clearly Bat-" he interjects. "The mint to my chocolate, the peanut butter to my jelly" you take a deep breath, because the next words are going to be embarrassing. "My other half, and my soulmate." His eyes widen, what blush he had hoped wasn't showing before is far too hard to deny now. His pale freckled skin turned rosy, a better look if you had to admit it. Cam Clarke flustered was always a sight to behold because not many could do it. "Happy birthday."

#loveandleases #love and leases #cam #happy birthday cam #i didn't realize i gave him such a rough time in the demo lol

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disaster-writer · 4 months ago

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Teenage Dirtbag (Part 2/3)

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Summary: You and Rodrick Heffley grew up right next door to each other. You’re best friends and nothing could ever change that… at least that’s what you’ve always thought.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I broke part 2 up into two so there will now be three parts to this fic

Part 1

“This is so weird,” Greg whispered to David and Rowley, both currently sitting on either side of him, all three of them crowded around the TV as Greg played Twisted Wizard “Are they still doing it?”

Rowley glanced behind him, “Yeah…” he answered uneasily, “Did something happen?”

"Not that I know of," David shrugged.

"Me neither."

All three of them turned around again, the sight sending a chill down their spines.

It should have been just like any other Saturday. Rodrick grounded as usual. You coming over to hang out with Rodrick despite his punishment. Greg and his friends playing video games. And both parents out with Manny.

Only it wasn't like any other Saturday. Because instead of choosing to hang out in Rodrick's room or torturing the kids (which tended to be your only hobbies you could think of when one of you was grounded), both you and Rodrick were sitting on either side of the couch, an entire cushion apart and stiff as a board. You guys weren't talking-- in fact Greg could have sworn you guys haven't even looked at each other since you showed up. All you two were doing was watching the video game as well. It was so out of character for you both that the boys were completely creeped out... they were starting to wish you two were all over each other like usual just to have that sense of normalcy... even if that meant hunting them down and beating on them or making fun of them.

It was your fault really. You thought you could just show up to the Heffley's and hang out with Rodrick, pretending that nothing happened last night.

Turns out a teenage boy can't just pretend that they didn't witness their best friend dancing around completely naked. And turns out you can't just pretend your best friend didn't see you in all your glory.

You played with the rings on your fingers, fidgeting to try and distract yourself from the elephant in the room. Should you bring it up and try to laugh it off? Try and carry on as if he saw nothing? Maybe a subtle joke about making sure your blinds were closed before getting changed?

Fuck-- nothing this mortifying has ever happened to you before.

You and your friends were practically known for being too stupid to be embarrassed about anything. There was nothing that you guys ever did that kept you from showing your faces around school. Not the time that Rodrick made a complete fool of himself at Heather's Sweet 16 and still having the audacity to ask her out right after, not the time you and the rest of Löded Diper were hanging out backstage during an assembly and you told the guys you thought Mr. Andrews was hot without knowing that the overhead mic's were on and the entire assembly heard you, and not even the time you and the guys delivered a presentation high out of your fucking minds.

But for some reason, even though Rodrick was the only other person involved, you felt liked you'd never be able to live this down.

"Cool!" David exclaimed, "My mom just texted me that she can take all of us out for ice cream right now!"

"Really!?" Rowley shouted excitedly.

"Awesome! Let's go!" Greg said, pausing the game and throwing the controller on the ground as the boys then ran for the door and got their shoes on before running outside to meet your mom.

And now... that makes two.

You both continued to sit awkwardly, twiddling your thumbs and shifting in your seats.

You don't know how much time passed before Rodrick was the one to break the silence.

"So..." you pursed your lips, waiting for the bomb, "You never told me you had a tattoo on your hip."

At that you folded in on yourself, burying your face in your hands, "Let's not do this," you groaned out, words muffled by your hands. "It's too embarrassing."

"It wasn't that bad," Rodrick tried to offer.

"Yes it was. That was completely humiliating last night."

“It could’ve been worse.”

”Yeah? How?” You grumbled into your hands.

”I mean…” he trailed off, picking at a pink thread from his jeans, “You could… have the body of a sixty year old…”

You paused, “How would I— y’know what? Nevermind,” you stood up, “I’m gonna go. It’s too weird, maybe when we’ve both had some space—“

”No!” Rodrick grasped your wrist, stopping you short, “You don’t need to leave— I’m telling you it wasn’t that bad!”

You set your jaw, looking down at him. The sudden nervousness that radiated from him was palpable as he broke eye contact, glanced down at where his hand wrapped around your wrist and quickly let go.

”See! Right there!”

”Right there what!?” He yelled back, staring at his lap with a growing blush.

”This is weird and I’m going—“

Just as you took another step Rodrick shot up from his seat, “No it’s not! We just need to do something normal—once we hang out like normal we’ll forget all about it!”

”Like what?” You crossed your arms, looking at him skeptically.

”Like- like,” you watched as Rodrick frantically searched his brain for an idea, “We can go to the arcade!”

”You’re grounded dumbass,” you rolled your eyes.

”Susan’s not gonna be home for at least another three hours. We can go for two and be back and she’ll never know!”

You shifted on your feet, weighing your options. You could both get in trouble yes, but it did beat being bored at home or spending the next three hours in uncomfortable silence.

And you suppose he had a point. The event was still fresh and was just weighing heavily on your minds. Time would heal the awkward air and getting back into the swing of things would hopefully ease the awkwardness.

Pretty soon you’d both forget the entire thing even happened.

——

”What are you doing?”

Rodrick had pulled away so quickly from his blinds you would have thought they had burned him.

”Nothing you little shit— what are you doing in my room!” He had spat at Greg who stood awkwardly by his steps.

”Mom says dinner is ready— are you spying on (Y/N) or something?”

”No,” his voice cracked to which he quickly cleared, “Get out!” He scrambled to yank his shoe off which he had then chucked at his younger brother.

”Okay!” Greg yelled before stumbling down the stairs.

Rodrick Heffley was convinced that he was losing his mind.

It had been five nights since he had witnessed you dancing around naked in your bedroom.

In other words, it had been five nights checking to see if he could catch you dancing around naked again.

He couldn’t help it. He was a teenage boy that had never seen a girl naked that wasn’t in a magazine or online.

And until recently he didn’t even believe you had all those same… parts as the girls he stared at.

But you did. And he saw them. And he came to the fast realization that he wanted to see them again.

And gingerly, for the umpteenth time that night, he had stuck his fingers into his blinds and pulled it down to peak through them.

You were still sitting in bed in your Löded Diper t-shirt, trying to catch up on what he assumed to be late homework.

He had truly fooled himself into thinking things could go back to normal. You had always been one of the guys— an honorable member of Löded Diper, you were practically the manager at this point. You had both grown up together and probably spent more time with each other than with your own respective siblings.

It’s been five days, he should be past this by now.

But he wasn’t.

Instead he started to notice all the things that made you a girl— an actual breathing girl that wanted to talk to him.

He had never noticed just how girlish your laugh was, it typically ended with a snort to which he would always scrunch his nose at but as it turned out the melodic laughter that preceded those snorts was actually quite… cute— in a way.

Even the simple gesture of you brushing your hair back behind your ear had made— what was the saying? Well, whatever it was it made him feel like moths were chewing at his stomach lining.

Or even—

“Rodrick!”

His blinds snapped shut upon removing his fingers, “I’m coming!” He called back in annoyance before stomping downstairs.

Making his way into the dining room, he found his family had already started eating without him— not that he really gave a shit. He wordlessly plopped down in his seat and picked up his fork.

He stabbed the meat on his plate and took a bite out of it, not bothering to cut it, instead opting to let the rest hang off the fork.

His mom had served chicken francese tonight.

Chicken francese was your favorite.

Rodrick grimaced— even chicken was making him think of you.

”What? You don’t like it?” Susan asked with a huff at Rodrick’s reaction.

”What? No—“

”No I don’t want to hear it. If you don’t like it that much then you might as well take it to (Y/N). At least she appreciates my cooking.”

“I can go over to (Y/N)’s? Even though I’m grounded?” He suddenly asked with a mouth full of food and an eagerness that was making Frank raise his eyebrow. He looked about ready to jump out of his seat and run out the front door.

“No!” Susan snapped, affronted, “Eat your dinner. And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Rodrick seemed to deflate, picking up the fork he had dropped onto his plate and taking another bite.

A silence fell over the family, the sounds of metal scratching against ceramic and chewing filling the space.

That was until Frank cleared his throat, “So, uh, speaking of (Y/N)…” Rodrick’s head snapped up towards his father in terror, and he shifted nervously… there was no way he actually knew what had happened right? “You two seem closer…” he trailed off awkwardly.

Rodrick glanced at Greg who started snickering— did he know something? Did he tell their dad he had seen you naked? Or maybe that he caught him peeping on you through his blinds before?

He kicked him hard under the table, making the plates and cutlery rattle atop the table.

“Ow!” Greg cried.

”Rodrick!” Susan reprimanded.

”We’ve always been close,” Rodrick answered, ignoring his mom, “Everyone knows that,” he said with an awkward laugh.

”Yeah, but l mean recently—“

”Recently what? Nothing’s changed recently, everything’s the same,” he rambled, scratching the back of his ear with a blush he prayed no one saw.

”Okay, look,” Frank lowered his voice, leaning towards his son, “I wanted to have this conversation in private but your mother—“

”(Y/N) is like family so I think this should be discussed as a family.”

Rodrick’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, he glanced at Greg who looked like it was Christmas morning.

”Are you and (Y/N) dating?” Susan asked.

Greg immediately started laughing.

”What? No—“ he looked back and forth between his parents, “It’s (Y/N)— that would be gross, y’know, ew—“ he spluttered, though not as convincingly as he would have a week ago.

”Are you sure?” Frank asked— he clearly wasn’t buying it. “Because your mother brought up a good point the other day. Did something happen between you two over the summer when you went on vacation with your friends?”

Okay, now he was confused.

”Huh?”

“Because it’s okay if it did,” Susan interjected, “We all love (Y/N), right Greg?”

”Yeah, I guess,” he grumbled with a shrug, stabbing his own chicken.

”Nothing happened on vacation,” Rodrick answered honestly— why would they even think that?

”You’re sure?” Frank asked, “Because you two seem to be a lot closer since that trip.”

Rodrick had to disagree. Nothing happened on that trip. It was mainly spent at Ben’s family’s lake house where you all spent every night getting drunk and every morning hungover. And sure maybe he learned a lot about you and his other friends during that trip as everyone had loose lips due to the alcohol— and okay maybe there was that one really drunken night you and Rodrick ended up getting stuck in the bathroom because the door got jammed but neither of you could remember that night anyway, it was mostly the morning when you both woke up cuddling in the bathtub that—

Rodrick’s face flushed with the memory.

And that had never happened before, but now the thought of you cuddled up to him with nothing more than a few layers of clothing separating the two of you…— and now he was thinking about you naked again.

Frank looked to Susan at his reaction. It seemed he was getting somewhere.

”Rodrick?” He questioned, trying to get his son to look at him.

His eyes snapped to his father’s as his mouth gaped like a fish, he suddenly shot out of his chair.

”God— what’s with the third degree! We’re just friends” He exclaimed, shrilly, grabbing his dinner and fork, “I plead the fifth!” He was then running back upstairs to his room, leaving his family in stunned silence.

Susan nodded, sure of herself now, “Frank, I think it’s time you had the talk with him—“

”Uh, can I go?” Greg asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

”No, finish your dinner.”

”But Rodrick left—“

”He’s going through a lot of emotions right now, you’ll understand when you’re his age,” she turned back to her husband.

”I’m pretty sure the school gives those talks now, honey,” Frank said uncomfortably.

”Yes, but it’s different when it’s coming from the parents. It might actually be best if we talked to her parents as well and sat the two of them down all together.”

Frank stared at his wife in utter shock… the ideas this woman comes up with…

* * * *

Rodrick ran upstairs, slamming his door shut before landing on his bed and shoveling the food on his plate into his mouth with a sneer as his parents words chirped endlessly in his head.

You and him have always been close, there was zero change in that after that trip. They were just delusional.

Just like there was zero change in your relationship after he saw you naked. Like yeah, maybe he did want to see you naked again but that wasn’t any indication that your relationship changed—

There was a tap at his window.

He dropped his plate on top of his bed, getting green beans and sauce all over his blankets, before practically stumbling over his own two feet to get the blinds up.

There you were, sitting on your roof with a handful of thumbs tacks that you used to throw at his window.

You jumped at his abruptness, hand already poised to throw another thumb tack.

He opened his window, “What?”

You ignored his odd behavior, he was always a weirdo anyways.

“Bill invited us to go hang in his basement.”

”But I’m grounded.”

”So?” You scoffed.

”Right now? My family’s still up.”

”We can sneak out in like an hour then,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m going whether or not you’re coming.”

”Alright fine,” he hissed, “We can go in an hour.”

”Nice.”

After an hour of waiting and listening to his family get ready for bed from downstairs, Rodrick threw on a hoodie and slipped his sneakers on, and found himself climbing out of his window and onto the roof.

You hadn’t been far behind, not bothering to change out of your pajama shorts and Löded Diper t-shirt, instead adding your own sneakers and a zip up.

Rodrick climbed down the tree between your windows before you did, grabbing onto your waist and helping you down the rest of the way like he has many times before.

But his hands had never burned at the touch before.

”Okay, let’s go,” you said, grabbing onto his wrist and tugging him towards your car.

He stared at your hand wrapped around his wrist.

Have you two always touched this much?

His cheeks felt like they were on fire from all the blood rushing to his head.

Rushing into the car you slammed your doors shut and turned it on, before peeling out of the spot you were parked in in front of your house and down the street.

On the way to Bill’s you almost crashed twice, which was less than usual so you considered it a pretty decent drive.

Parking in front of Bill’s you went to the side door that led straight into the basement he lived in.

His parents must have been out because they always hated when he invited you guys over— something about Bill hanging out with high schoolers not being appropriate.

You skipped down the steps with Rodrick in tow.

”Hello losers!” You greeted, making the others say their own hello’s.

Ben lit up, “Hello, legs,” he said in awe, seeing your bare legs descend the steps before seeing the rest of you.

”Ew,” you rolled your eyes, jumping on Bill’s couch, kicking your feet up on the coffee table, reaching over for the open bag of chips by your feet.

Bill had been laying in his bed while Ben and Chris sat on the floor playing some card game.

Rodrick sat beside you, reaching a hand into the chip bag you offered him.

”So what are we doing?” Rodrick asked.

Bill shrugged, “Dunno. I was bored and my family’s out.”

”So you invited us to be bored with you?” You asked, raising a brow.

”Nooo,” he dragged out, “I invited you to entertain me.”

You rolled your eyes, standing back up and making your way to his mini fridge, “Got any beers?” You asked, pulling the door open. Your eyes lit up as they landed on his stash.

Turns out he only had beer.

You took one out and cracked it open, you grabbed another and tossed it to Rodrick to which he fumbled with a couple times before catching it.

”You didn’t tell us you had beer,” Ben said excitedly, scrambling from his spot on the ground and grabbing the two beers for him and Chris you handed him.

”You saw me drinking for the last hour,” Bill furrowed his eyebrows.

”So how’s the grounding going?” Chris called over his shoulder, taking his drink from Ben as he sat back down.

You took a swig of your own, plopping back down besides Rodrick.

”Well I’m here right now so I’d say it’s going pretty great,” he muttered.

”Susan’s been micromanaging him all week,” you also answered, “So we probably only have about an hour before she goes to check on him.”

”That blows,” Bill said, “Hey,” he suddenly said, getting an idea, “Maybe you should try getting grounded less.”

”Yeah, I’ll work right on that.”

The next fifteen minutes were filled with idle chit chat about the band and a couple parties that were coming up.

“Again?” Ben scoffed, throwing his cards down. “This is rigged,” He got up from his game.

”Or maybe you just suck,” Chris laughed, grinning as he won yet again, sprawling out on the floor as it seemed they were done for the night, but not before taking a drink of his beer.

Ben made his way over to you, squeezing himself in the tight space between you and the arm rest of the couch, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You rolled your eyes, scooching over towards Rodrick a bit.

”Soooo,” Ben said, dragging the word out.

”Yesss,” you mimicked.

”I saw you talking to Heather Hills today, what was that about?”

”Oh that?” You scoffed, “I have to work with her on some stupid project. She was telling me I have to pull my own weight on it because she’s not risking a bad grade because ‘I don’t take shit seriously’ or whatever she said— but I don’t exactly see that Princess studying and working hard either so I don’t think she has any right talking to me like that. Glass stones, y’know.”

”Uh-huh,” Ben said, clearly ignoring your rant, “So you’ll be seeing and talking to her regularly?”

”I guess so, we’re working on it in class.”

”Any chance my name can come up in these talks?”

Oh right, that’s where this was going, cause every fucking male in this goddamn school had a hard on for the brat.

“Slim to none,” you answered, “Besides, I promised Rodrick here,” you slapped his knee, making him jump at the touch to which you ignored, “That I’d wingman for him if the opportunity ever came up.”

”He doesn’t mind! Right Rodrick!” He leaned over you to look at his best friend. He didn’t respond, “Rodrick?” He followed Rodrick’s gaze right to your legs, “Hey! Are you staring at my girl!?”

You scoffed, pushing his head back, and moving away from him and towards Rodrick, “How are you already drunk? Knock it off with that ‘my girl’ crap.”

”He was staring at you! Why am I getting yelled at!?”

”I wasn’t staring!” Rodrick yelped, voice cracking a red blush covering his face.

You looked back and forth between the two boys before standing up, your mood souring, “I’m gonna go pee, both of you cool it with the testosterone or I’m leaving.” You grumbled, marching out of the basement and to the bathroom upstairs. The one in Bill’s room was disgusting.

“What’s up with you,” Ben asked, looking at Rodrick peculiarly, “Why the fuck are you so red?”

”God— it’s nothing,” he grunted, “It’s a sunburn.”

”Bullshit,” Chris called out, “You’re blushing!”

“Oh I see,” Bill said with a laugh, “He’s finally coming around to (Y/N). Don’t see her as one of the boys anymore, do ya?”

”Will all of you just shut up,” Rodrick snapped, “I don’t like her like that.”

”No one said anything about liking anybody.”

“But now we’re all thinking you do,” Ben said, raising a brow before an idea popped in his head, shooting up from his seat and pointing an accusing finger at him, “Something happened between you two!” A wide grin stretched across his face.

Bill and Chris were sitting up now.

”I knew it!” Bill laughed, “You two follow each other around like dogs.”

”What happened?” Chris pressed.

Fuck, fuck, fuck— he knows he shouldn’t say anything—

“I saw her naked,” he blurted, his own mouth out of his control.

Well fuck—

Chris and Bill shot to their feet as well, with exclamations on all three of his friends lips.

“How!?”

”When!?”

”Did you have sex!?”

”She forgot to close her blinds a few nights ago.”

Why won’t he shut up.

He guessed it was only a matter of time he’d eventually explode with this information as it was getting harder and harder each day to put it behind him.

”Is she hot!?” Chris exclaimed.

All Rodrick could do was nod guiltily as he continued to divulge more and more information.

All of them cheered again, Ben and Chris practically tackling him as they clapped his back and ruffled his hair in praise.

”What was she doing? Getting changed?”

“She came out of the shower and was dancing to whatever music she was listening to while looking for her pajamas.” Starting to grin slightly at the praise he was receiving.

Ben fell to his knees at that, “So you saw,” he swallowed, “Her,” he gestured to his chest area, “Jiggling?”

”Yeah,” he said breathlessly at the memory.

”Does she know?” Bill asked.

”We made direct eye contact.”

”What’d she do?” Chris now asked.

”As soon as our eyes met we both kinda screamed and I ran out of my room. But we talked it over the next day and everything’s all good.”

”Everything was all good.”

All four guys snapped their sights towards the staircase where you stood with your arms crossed.

”Really Rodrick?” You scoffed, clearly hurt. “What the fuck?”

”(Y/N)!” He stood up now. “I— uh,” he struggled to find the words.

You looked to each of your ‘friends’. “You’re all fucking assholes. Especially you Rodrick, have fun walking home.”

With that all four watched you climb the rest of the stairs before slamming the door shut behind you.

Rodrick groaned.

”Shit.”

————————————————————————

Part 3 Coming Soon…

Taglist: @maggiecc @corpsebridenightamare @simpingforthe80s @werewolf-witchboy @brunnetteiwik @athenalive @exploringalaxiesfarfaraway @momokosthings

#Rodrick Heffley #rodrick #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #devon bostick #Devon bositck x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #diary of a wimpy kid fanfic

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yeowangies · 2 months ago

Text

Sweet disposition

PAIRING: Goku/AFAB!Reader. CONTENTS: Established relationship, Overstimulation, slight angst and comfort WORDCOUNT: 1288

Summary:

You had been crying the night before Goku returned from training God knows where; had you known, you would have put some tea bags on your eyes, to try and hide the puffiness and redness around them.

Notes:

KINKTOBER DAY 5: OVERSTIMULATION

I refuse to elaborate on how i started writing this...

@actuallysaiyan

divider by @/saradika-graphics

You had been crying the night before Goku returned from training God knows where; had you known, you would have put some tea bags on your eyes, to try and hide the puffiness and redness around them.

Goku wasn’t as absentminded as people thought.

The moment he walked through the threshold he looked at you with a slight frown and narrowed eyes. He didn’t say anything at first, and you momentarily thought that he wouldn’t comment on it.

“Why have you been crying?” Goku asked while you left some clean clothes for him to wear on the bed.

And of course he was naked when you turned around.

“What are you talking about?” You replied, looking at the ceiling to avoid staring at him. “Put on some clothes, please.”

“You know I can always tell when something’s wrong.” Goku commented casually, and you eyed him carefully when he took a few steps closer to you. “Did I do something? Was I gone for too long?”

“No, no, it’s not that. Put some clothes on.”

“Then what is it? Did something happen while I was gone?”

You sighed when he put a hand on your shoulder. Goku would not let it go, and while you hated talking about your feelings (as much as you encouraged him to do it with you), you made the effort for it anyway. Vulnerability had spooked you in the past, but knowing Goku for as long as you had, you knew you couldn’t be safer.

“It’s no big deal,” You started, sitting on the bed and shutting your eyes again when he stood in front of you in all his naked glory. “I just had an uncomfortable conversation with a friend yesterday.”

“That can’t all be it if you ended up crying…”

“No, it’s not, but can you please put some clothes on!”

“Oh.” Goku laughed quietly, and you glanced at him as he grabbed his underwear and put it on.

“Like I said, it’s no big deal,” You repeated once he sat down next to you, with his boxers on at least. “But… I got the sense that she can’t even stand me as a friend at all.”

“Why do you think that?”

“It was just the way she talked…” You sighed, embarrassed to be saying so much out loud. “She kinda joked about how boring I was, especially when it comes to… sex.”

You felt incredibly stupid for even telling those things to Goku of all people. Goku, who saved the world as a hobby, and traveled to so many planets that you didn’t even know existed.

Though you couldn’t deny that it had touched a nerve to even consider that Goku might think of you as a boring person, a boring partner, in comparison to the marvelous things he had done and the powerful people he had met in his life.

He might enjoy a more adventurous partner after all that.

“Boring?” Goku frowned, leaning closer to you and making you look him in the eye. “I don’t get it? Why did she say that?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t think you’re boring.”

“No?” You eyed him carefully.

“No!” He beamed, wrapping an arm around you. “You’re the coolest person I know! I’m never bored when I’m with you!”

His genuine smile, the way his hand firmly held onto you, his wide eyed gaze fixed on you. Your heart fluttered because of the attention you were getting, tears threatening to spill from your eyes again. Goku wasn’t one to elaborate too much, though you knew he would keep talking if you let him; but his words were sincere, just like his affection.

You kissed him promptly and sweetly on the lips, giggling softly when he pressed you closer, not letting go of you even after you tried to pull away for air.

“Boring in bed, she said?” Goku asked playfully, sneaking one hand around your waist.

In the blink of an eye, he had unceremoniously thrown you on the bed, making you yelp as he swiftly got rid of most of your clothes, faster than you could ever imagine.

“How would she know?” Goku asked again, amusement written all over his face, as if the mere idea of it was laughable. “I’m the only one who gets to see what you’re like!”

Pressing his lips against yours with a smile, he ground his hips against you, forcing you to part your legs. You moaned into the kiss as he purposely pressed his bulge against your core, the fabric of your underwear rubbing nicely against your clit.

Goku sneaked his hand down your panties, reaching for your most sensitive parts, pressing his fingers against your already wet entrance without further delay. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you gasped when he easily slipped two fingers inside.

“You’re always wet when I touch you.” He smiled against your lips, moving his fingers at a steady pace, making you moan.

You were always wet because you were easily turned on by Goku and his body and his touch and his sweet disposition. You couldn’t hide it and you didn’t even try; it would be pointless considering how easily affected you were by his presence. Even at that moment, when you were upset, he had managed to free your mind and make you focus on the pleasure he was giving you.

The slick dripping down your hole as Goku pumped his fingers was making a mess on your panties but you couldn’t care less, not when he picked up the pace, pressing his thumb to your clit and rubbing it with purpose.

You would have been embarrassed of how easy you reached your peak, but Goku was smiling against your cheek when you came, and it was one of the most comforting orgasms you had experienced. Back arching off the bed, thighs shuddering as you saw stars dance behind your lids, pleasure pulsing through your veins.

The descent would have been nice and soothing, but as he kept stroking your clit and sliding his fingers in and out of your wet pussy, your body wouldn’t stop quivering.

“Go-Goku…” You whined, pushing at his shoulders. “Wait, I can’t-I can’t anymore…”

“But you’re so pretty when you come,” Goku grinned mischievously, not budging an inch when you tried to push him away. “And this is the most fun, making you come as many times as I want.”

You would have protested more if he hadn’t picked up the pace again, producing a sinfully wet sound when his fingers slammed against your pussy.

Air wasn’t reaching your brain, or so it felt when you reached your next orgasm. It was inevitable, Goku never even slowed down his moves, and the warmth that had spread on your body with your first orgasm washed over you again, like waves that made you shudder.

You couldn’t register what was happening after that. He kept pressing kisses on your face, on your cheek and jaw and down your neck, but never attempted to alleviate himself, erection trapped in his boxers, pressing against your hip, while his hand focused on your clit and pussy.

It was easy to make you come, your body and mind sensitive enough to reach to the slightest touch, and you lost count of how many times you had reached your climax after that. By the time Goku finally got rid of your panties, they were all drenched in your slick and sweat; even his hand was sticky with your releases, and he happily lapped at it before burying his face between your thighs.

Goku was happy to please you, and your heart skipped several beats every time you gazed at his satisfied face with each orgasm you reached.

#my writing #dbz fics #dbz fanfiction #dbz imagine #goku x reader #goku x you #kinktober #k2024 #(i was just sad when i wrote this that's why)

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desolateyears · 1 year ago

Text

Have a mini fic about Steve annotating books and Eddie finding it really hot🖤

So obviously, Eddie's a bookworm. Before he had any friends, he spent the better parts of his childhood at Hawkins Library after school and Hawkins Middle's library during any recesses and lunches. He constantly read books, this was before Wayne got him a guitar and before he got into dnd, and being a bookworm tremendously helped him fuel both of those hobbies later on. But before then? The library was like a second home to him.

And so, recently founding out that Steve reads, like a lot, is something of a revalation. It's not that Eddie thinks the guy is stupid, but he figured the guy spent time doing other productive hobbies at home. But the guy reads, and as previously mentioned, Eddie considers himself a literature connoisseur of sorts. Writing book reports and essays were one of the few things he actually excelled at in high school.

So anyway, he found out that Steve is a book nerd by finding one of Steve's books open on his bed. Not really the strangest thing that Eddie's come across in Steve's room if he's being honest, and not the biggest indicator of nerdiness, until he focuses his attention and acknowledges the bright colors sprawled across the pages.

A burst of rainbow colors underlining what Eddie guesses are his favorite parts of the story or important stuff he wanted to remember. And obviously, Eddie has to ask him about it. and Steve explains to him that he has a whole color key and it's made up of romantic lines that make him feel warm, sad stuff that makes him tear up, stuff that is word for word undoubtedly Steve Harrington sprawled on a page. Steve won't tell him which color is which, too embarrassed by it, but he lets Eddie read through them, and then he stares at Steve in unyeilding fondness.

The look reflected on Steve's is not the same, mostly anxiety and insecurity, which Eddie immediately wants to soothe. It's so so sweet he thinks but Eddie's mouth translates the words into, "That's so fucking hot." Which, shit man, it is but he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"Shut up, dude, don't make fun of me right now."

And listen, books are everything to him, this is no joking matter. They inspire his own stories, whether through a dnd campaign or writing song lyrics. It's honestly probably the most attractive thing a person could do in Eddie's opinion, he didn't know how hot until right about now, but he'll die on this hill. Annotating your books is hot.

"Listen to me when I say this Steve, while that is the nerdiest thing I've ever heard and I'm, ya know, me. It's also about the most attractive thing that's come out of that pretty mouth of yours, like ever."

And Steve folds his arms across his fucking beautifully sculpted chest and narrows his eyes just slightly, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him.

"You're being serious."

Oh he's never been more serious about anything in his life.

"Uh...yeah? Yes. Oh my god."

Yeah, real eloquent Edward.

Whatever, his heart is pounding profuesely against his rib cage because holy shit Steve is a book nerd and Eddie wants to kiss him fucking yesterday. So he gets on all fours on Steve's bed to lean forward and basically attacks his mouth before he can even think about it.

And when he pulls back, Steve's pupils are blown wide and his breath has picked up pace, and Steve keeps bouncing between looking at Eddie's eyes and his lips.

"You just kissed me."

It comes out disbelieving.

"Yeah and with your permission I'd like to continue, like stat, immediately, now."

"You're insane."

And hands weave through curls and pull.

Eddie tumbles foward, ending fully sprawled on top of Steve, and, jesus christ, body pressed impossibly close to his.

And after they're romantic, read: nerdy horniness, little makeout session, he forces Steve to read the annotations himself, going through all the books that are important to Steve. He has to stop himself from moaning to really emphasize how hot he finds it, and to make Steve slightly embarrassed, but refrains. Just lets him continue.

Eddie has never been so in love in his life.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ficlet #stranger things fic #my writing

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vrystalius · 3 months ago

Note

Hihi! Firstly, I love your writings. For English not being your first language, I would not have guessed. Your English is brilliantly used and translated throughout. Secondly, I did have an ask, but I do want to put it out there that I am only now finishing the Hashira Training Arc. (Also, thank you for the heads up on the Sanemi post about it being after Infinity Castle...I have it marked to read after I get through that Arc :D ). Okay, so actual ask: Ahem, could I possibly ask/somehow con you into doing a short or head cannon with either Sanemi or Kyojuro having an s/o with confidence anxieties; like a family that always told them they would never be good enough kind of thing? If this is a no, no worries. It's kind of darker so I get it but I was just curious. Thank you for your works and your time. I look forward to reading your new things as they come :)

❔Confidence issues

You have don’t have enough confidence to become a swordsman. What does your S/O think?

Note: Thank you so much for requesting and liking my works! Compliments like these really make my day <3 I hope you don’t mind that I added Yorichii. You didn’t tell me about kind of confidence anxieties you’d like me to write about, so wrote it about becoming a swordsman against your family’s wishes and them disapproving heavily. I hope you enjoy anyway!

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Yorichii x gn!reader

(Heavy Spoilers for Yorichii’s backstory in Yorichii’s part)

💚 Sanemi Shinazugawa 💚

What? You don’t have the confidence to become a demon slayer? Seriously? You’re one of the most talented slayer- no- person Sanemi ever met! And you dare to doubt your own abilities? C’mon now.

“The fuck are you even talking about? Are you serious right now?”

Sanemi is feeling a mix of utter confusion and anger towards you for being insecure. He’s seriously baffled at where you even got the idea of from. Whatever you did amazed him: your fighting, your clothes (even if you are wearing the uniform, it just fits you much better than anyone else), your breathing style, your hobby, the way you walked or even talked to him, in his eyes you are beautiful and amazing.

He’d confront you about it. Where’d you get this idea even from? But after finding out that your insecurities mainly were because of your family’s nagging and disapproval, Sanemi got furious. You’ll need to either talk him out of beating your relative’s ass or hold him back by tackling him to the ground and THEN talk him out of it.

Now, from this day on, Sanemi will try his best to make you more confident in yourself. In his eyes, you are the most perfect and talented person. Sanemi feels like he should the one who should feel insecure. You’re so patient and understanding with him and you manage to calm him down by just simply touching his arm, it’s almost embarrassing. You are so absolutely gorgeous to him in every way. He feels like he doesn’t deserve you in any way.

Sanemi is not the biggest fan of you wanting to join the Demon Slayer Corps, but he’ll encourage you to keep training and fighting anyway. He’ll make time in his day to train you personally and to spar with you, making sure to point out your improvement.

“Hey, you’re even faster than yesterday! Keep this up and you’ll beat my ass in no time! You’re doing great.”

❤️‍🔥 Kyojuro Rengoku ❤️‍🔥

You’re so funny! You? Not confident in your skills or talents? Hahaha!

…

Wait. You’re not joking?

“But my flame, what made you think that? You’re almost as strong as the other hashira!”

Kyojuro’s first reaction was to laugh at your face. Surely you were joking! Your breathing technique is controlled and powerful and your slashing is accurate and swift. If you’d receive proper hashira training, you’ll be on his level in no time! Demons will sense your presence from a mile away!

But after seeing how your face faded into frown, Kyojuro silenced himself immediately. He apologises loudly and bowed to you. You are so talented and powerful, he seriously thought you were joking! What made you think like this in the first place? Did someone upset you? If so, he’d need a word with them!

After finding out your insecurity stems mainly from your family, he’ll suggest to speak to them. Kyojuro believes he can teach them wrong by pointing every single perfect thing about you. But if he did, he’d be there all day and night.

But if that’s not what you want, he’d totally understand. Kyojuro would then continue point everything perfect and talented about out to you instead! You need to see yourself from his perspective! You are good enough, you are loved and you are talented!

And he did so until you had to physically stop him with either a kiss or shoving food into his mouth.

Kyojuro means well. He wants you to see yourself the way he sees you: his talented, amazing and beautiful partner. From this day on, he’ll make sure to compliment you every day and on whatever you are doing. Even if it’s a little silly.

“Your kisses are especially tender today! Your affections set my heart ablaze, my flame!”

Bonus:

☀️ Yorichii Tsugikuni ☀️

Yorichii understands where you are coming from. He feels the exact same way, since his father beat it into his skull every day: He’s a failure, shouldn’t have been born and that he should’ve killed him at birth, regardless about how much his mother protested.

He is incredibly self-doubting and insecure himself, wich only increased after loosing Uta so brutally and his brother to Muzan’s luring. He is a person not worth remembering and not worth of being called a demon slayer, perhaps not even worth living. So it surprised him that you expressed similar insecurities.

“My sun, you are a very capable slayer. If not for you, we wouldn’t have beheaded this many demons together, and I surely would’ve struggled on my own.”

Yorichii would talk to you about your insecurities. Why do you feel this way? What made you think this? How can he show that you are wrong?

All of the sudden you tell him that him being such a strong slayer, in addition to your family’s behaviour and words, made you so insecure. Yorichii feels terrible for being partly responsible of making you feel even more insecure.

Yorichii a very quiet man, preferring to listen rather to talk. But for you, he’ll try to speak up more. The way you just swung your sword at the demon, that was excellent sword-handling. Your foot movement you did back there was very impressive, he should learn from you. Your cooking is excellent, this is now his new favourite dish. Your craftsmanship, no matter if you sketch, write or whatever, looks very well made and beautiful.

“You look very beautiful today, my light. Could you show me your stance from yesterday? I’d like to learn from you.”

💠

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed. I would also like to credit my cat as a co-author.

My masterlist for the hashira.

My masterlist for the demons.

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Take care of yourselves <3

#💠 house of vry 💠#demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer #fluff #demon slayer hashira #sanemi x reader #sanemi x you #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #yorichii x reader #yorichii #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi x y/n #sanemi shinazugawa #rengoku kyojuro #kny kyojuro #kny yorichii

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starrclown · 2 months ago

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LMK SHIP Headcanons cause art block is KILLING MEEEEEEEEEEE🎀

Shadowpeach:

Wukong is a morning person. Macaque is NOT. Wukong tries to sneak out of bed in the morning but Macaque has an iron grip on him.

Wukong loves to paint so Macaque will force himself to go into civilization so he can get Wukong NICE paints.

Wukong when he wants to, likes to make new deserts and snack recipes. He has Macaque try all of them so he has a tester. Macaque likes the free snacks.

Wukong likes doing makeup so when Macaque lets him he’ll try new looks on Macaque.

Macaque CLINGS onto Wukong at parties. He doesn’t want to be there or talk to anyone so he sticks with Wukong.

Macaque once made Wukong cry when he tried joking with him when he was overstimulated. He IMMEDIATELY felt bad and still hasn’t forgot about it. (This actually happened to me)

Macaque fell first AND harder.

Wukong likes to bite. Not hard but he likes to just nibble. Macaque likes it WAY too much. He’s a freak.

Macaque doesn’t like fireworks because of how loud they are. Wukong won’t set fireworks off when Macaque is on the mountain.

They have drawing sessions together.

Freenoodles:

Tang stares at Pigsy when he cooks. There’s something so mesmerizing about his husband just cooking peacefully. He’d genuinely rather watch Pigsy than any tv show.

Pigs nuzzle to show affection. That’s why Pigsy and Tang nuzzle so much.

Pigsy has a wedding ring but he doesn’t keep it on when he cooks. Tang WILL NOT take it off. He bagged Pigsy and will not stop showing it.

They like to watch cheesy rom coms together. They laugh at them and then fall asleep on the couch.

Tang is surprisingly REALLY jealous. Not in a TikTok dark romance way, more like a whiny baby way. He knows Pigsy isn’t going to cheat on him cause he trusts him so much but it bothers him if a customer gets to close for his comfort. Pigsy isn’t jealous at all. Like no jealous bone in his body. You could hit on Tang right in front of him and he knows Tang would freak out more.

Pigsy was a MUCH more strict parent. Tang is a VERY played back dad.

Tang didn’t know how to express affection when he and Pigsy started dating so he just spoiled him with gifts.

They are a very old married couple. They lay in bed at night in their pjs. Tang reads Jttw while Pigsy watches Chang’es cooking show.

Tang comes up with the CHEESIEST pickup lines and Pigsy still loves him for some reason.

They like to tease and annoy each other but they love each other.

Spicynoodles:

Redson straightens his hair a lot so most people don’t see his curly hair. Mk LOVES Redsons curly hair and BEGS him not to straighten it.

Redson doesn’t like to share his food but she’ll give Mk just a little bit if he asks.

Mk basically lays on top of Redson when they’re in bed during the winter. Redson is basically a free heater.

Redson is Mk’s muse. He draws him constantly but he’s to shy to show her.

Mk tries to show off for Redson when they’re at the arcade. He’ll try and impress him by getting a slam dunk but the ball rick a shays off the backboard and hits him.

Redson is sensitive to touch because they’re afraid that their fire will burn people. When they start dating Mk wears more layers + fire proof gloves so that he can be all up on Red.

While rain makes Redsons hair go flat and straight, rain doesn’t hurt him. Mk INSISTS on making sure he’s ALWAYS under an umbrella so that she doesn’t get wet. Redson won’t admit it but she finds it sweet.

Redson likes to cook, a hobby he got from DBK and Wukong, so he makes Mk food as a sign of affection.

Redson has a 15 steps hair and skin routine. Mk puts on his headband and leaves the house. The man’s skin is like sandpaper.

Both like horror movies but BOTH get scared at the jump scares.

Dragonfruit:

Mei sends Redson all kinds of videos about cute animals. Redson once replied with a heart and Mei fell in love.

Mei would say “Sorry guys, I gotta get home to the wife!” And then go see Redson.

Mei’s parents LOVE Redson. Whenever she comes home they ask where Red is.

Mei spoils Redson with gifts. It’s her love language. Redson tries to do out in return but Mei won’t let him.

The two like to race. They race along beaches or deserted roads. It’s bonding time for them.

Redson fell first, Mei fell harder.

Redson gets up earlier to complete their routines and start work. You’ll be lucky to see Mei before 11 am.

Both are judgy as HELL. They shit talk anyone who dares to walk by.

Mei types using emojis, Redson uses :( :/ :o

Mei will use ANY opportunity to talk about how her and Redson got together.

Chimera:

Mei sleeps on the left, Redsons in the middle, Mk is on the right. They make one big cuddle pile.

Mei and Mk are SUPER clingy. Redson DOES not get work when they both wake up.

They all have movie nights. Trashy rom coms, horror, tragedy’s. They watch them all.

Mk has perfected Mei and Redsons coffee orders.

They started a plushie collection. Any time anyone wins or buys a plushie, it goes in the collection.

Mk and Mei wear boxers and t shirts to bed. Redson wears one of those big frilly robes to sleep.

Mk and Mei like to mess around with Redsons hair cause it’s so much longer than theirs.

When Mei is experimental with her style, Mk and Redson are supportive.

Mei and Redson hang up Mks drawings of them.

“What do you see in those two?” “They make me laugh.”

I finished writing these at 1 am. I have school. What am I doing.

#lmk #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk mk #lmk redson #lmk mei #lmk pigsy #lmk tang #lmk shadowpeach #lmk spicynoodles #lmk dragonfruit #lmk chimera #lmk freenoodles #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #sooooo many tags 😭

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matthewswifeyx · 21 days ago

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Favourite <3

Warnings?-swearing, arguing, fluff, anxiety

Requested?- yes!!! Here <3

Summary- Y/N meets Matt's brothers for the first time and they fight over who she likes more

Me and Matt had been dating for around 3 weeks, and ever since we got together he had been dying for me to meet his brothers. I had been putting it off for a while, I just didn't want to do something wrong or didn't want to face them not liking me. But after a while Matt had persuaded me to finally meet his triplet brothers.

Matt had come to my apartment to pick me up and we were in the car driving back to his house that he shared with his brothers. I was so nervous. Matt's hand was stuck to my thigh as some sort of quiet comfort. I started doing some breathing exercises to calm my nerves. In and out, in and out. Matt's ears pricked up to my morse code. He turned his head to look in my direction, his eyes flickered back to the road frequently.

"Y/N, babe, you don't have to be so nervous." Matt chuckled.

"I just want to make a good impression that's all." I looked at him and smiled.

"You know what all of these nerves mean?" matt speaks up. I shrug my shoulders. "It means you care baby. And that means the world to me."

Matt's small pep talk had actually made me feel a bit better. The bundle of nerves were still lingering but they weren't as intense anymore. I closed my eyes and tried to relax for the rest of the journey.

I felt the car come to a halt and Matt softly tapped my thigh to indicate that we had arrived. Matt held the car door open for me and guided me to their front door. Matt unlocked the door and held it open for me to enter first. I kicked my shoes off and put them to the side.

"Were here!" Matt called out. I heard a few shouted whispers from up the stairs. Matt placed his hand on my lower back and we started walking up the stairs. I was greeted with two smiling, similar faced people.

"Hi! I'm Nick. You must be the famous Y/N Matt has been running our ears off about?"

"Yeah that's me. It's nice to finally meet you!" I answered. I looked over at the other person, his gaze lingered at the floor. "You must be Chris?" I I broke the silence. He lifted his head and locked eyes with mine.

"Oh yeah, that's me!" He smiled.

"Should we move this conversation to the living room? Because if I stand on these stairs for any longer I might fall down." matt announced. I laughed quietly.

"Oh-shit, forgot about you there Matt." Chris joked.

Matt still had his hand placed on my back, he tapped softly and I moved up the stairs into the living room.

"Haha asshole." Matt said sarcastically.

We settled nicely on the couch, the room was filled with chatter and chuckles. I was talking about my home life, family, my hobbies my childhood. They all listened so well, I had never felt so heard before. They were extremely patient with me while i would tell stories. I felt appreciated. We moved from topic to topic. We had found ourselves where Nick and Chris were telling stories of Matt when he was younger. I would chuckle quietly to their storytelling skills. matt tried to keep a straight face while they would be talking but he would accidentally let a few laughs escape.

The whole time we were talking Matt would have his arm around my shoulders or his hands slipping onto the dips of my hips. He had never been this touchy before. I liked this side of him. Who knew that he would become a new type of protective?

We had found ourselves on a topic of whether i liked Chris or Nick better. The truth was that I didn't prefer one to the other, they were both interesting in their own ways. I could never choose.

"Dude she obviously likes me better, she has laughed at every joke I have made so far!" Chris argued.

"That doesn't mean she likes you better. At least I have my own personality, and I don't steal it off my brother." Nick spit back.

I was laughing with Matt while the whole situation unfolded. I looked over at Matt and he was already staring at me. Chris and Nick's argument was still going on in the background.

"I knew they would argue." Matt announced quietly. I just shook my head and laughed.

Both Nick and Chris turned their heads towards me.

"Y/N, who do you like better?" Chris asked.

"I can't choose. i don't prefer one of you to the other. Your both just so different." I answered.

"Guys what she actually means is that she likes me better than both of you guys. I just am at the top of every category, so that means you two are just equals." Matt joked.

"Ooohh, boyfriend Matt has spoken." Nick joked.

Chris and Nick still bickered in the background, I looked over at Matt once more. He seemed proud of himself. He place his hand on my neck and pulled me in to a kiss softly. He will always be my favourite.

Banner credits to @bernardsbendystraws <3

Hey guys! I hope you really enjoyed this fanfic! If you have any suggestions/requests, please do not hesitate to send me a message and i will try and get back to you asap! <3

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #dad!matt #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew imagines #matthew sturniolo x reader #.｡*ﾟ+.*Remi's corner *.+*ﾟ.｡

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risuola · 1 year ago

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OPEN YOUR MOUTH FOR ME — F. READER x NANAMI KENTO, who joined you for a simple mission during the Halloween night

You liked to joke that Nanami is always overdressed for the occasion. His suits were always crisp and perfectly tailored, showing the unmatched confidence with their color – light beige fabric in combination with dark blue button-up perfectly accentuated his mature features and blonde hair. Your work colleague knows how to dress to impress, and the grown-up apparition matched his character perfectly. Both were cold and calculated, so once, you decided to greet him in the hotel room a little underdressed.

cw: smut, lingerie + suit, blindfold, oral (m. receiving) face fucking/deepthroating, reader discretion is advised — 3,1k words

masterlist

If there was ever a person who’s overdressed for every occasion, who always looks composed and perfectly prepared, who always has suits perfectly crisp and tailored – it would be Nanami Kento.

Your friend since high school, your former classmate, your now work colleague and one of the closest people to you. Your bond with him is unbreakable, many horrible experiences you shared over a decade of being sorcerers, despite him leaving for a little while but besides what’s bad, you have so many great memories with him, it’s hard to describe. So many movie nights, every each of them quickly turning into late hours of just talking, drinking wine and enjoying the time together; so many casual walks, so many bakery visits and tests. He was your number one guinea pig when it came to your amateur baking hobby – he tried everything you made, gave you his honest opinion, sometimes too brutal, but you loved him for that. There was no bullshit when it came to Nanami, he always spoke his mind and you valued his opinion above everyone else’s. He’s a great friend.

That being said, there was always a lot of bickering between you two, and the way he’s always suited up, with that atrocious tie is your main weapon of choice when it comes to pushing his buttons – even though he looks perfectly fine, and he knows it. There’s no denying that Nanami Kento is a man created to wear suits. His fit, muscular frame fills in this kind of clothes perfectly and it also fitted his character. Calm, collected, always composed and on the field – effective enough to never stain the light beige fabric of one of his favorite numbers. It showed how confident in his skill he is and if someone makes him take his tie off and loosen up the dark blue shirt, you always pitied them. When the yellowish, spotted tie comes off, you know Nanami means business.

Even though you often made fun of the way Kento’s suited up even to go and grab groceries, you couldn’t say you don’t enjoy the view. You’re friends, but you’re not oblivious to how attractive he is – tall and broad, with his light blonde hair swooped back, his strong features and cheekbones sharp enough, you were sure, to cut a finger once touched. Not much of that skinny emo boy from ten years ago was now left in him and you’d say he had a great glow up. He aged like a fine wine and sometimes you caught yourself wishing to have a taste. To cross the line of friendship and explore more of him. Sometimes, during those long late hours, in the silence of the nights when it’s only you and him chatting quietly, you wondered how would he react if you just caressed his thigh. How would he react if you kissed his neck or slipped your hand over the very inviting bulge in his pants? Would he flinch away? Told you to stop? Maybe his composure would snap, and he’d taken you on the couch? You’d lie if you say you never fantasized about being fucked by him. You don’t need him to be your boyfriend, you don’t need commitment, you just wished he’d let you have a friendly taste of him.

The night of Halloween was never really your favorite – not because you’re that no- fun, but because during that night, many curses were let loose, balancing between crowds and some people couldn’t even notice what hurt them. Chaos was integral part of 31st of October and although you didn’t like it, you learned to accept it. That year you and Nanami got paired up to check on one little place on the outskirts of Tokyo – it was a simple mission, you quickly had it done and you couldn’t be more grateful to have him as a partner. You were meant to stay in the hotel for the night, just in case something happened, but ultimately, around 9pm you were already finished with the job.

That night you decided to test your luck. Worst case scenario, it will be just a little awkward and quickly forgotten. Best case – you’d achieve what you want. With that in mind, you couldn’t be happier when Nanami told you that he’s gonna go and quickly check things outside once more, just to make sure, reassuring you that you can stay in the room because he’ll be right back. Giving him a nod on that, you told him you’ll take a quick shower and that’s when he left.

Cold, October air cooled Nanami’s thoughts a little. The job was easy, there was nothing for him to check on, but he just needed a quick breather to calm his nerves before the night you two were meant to spend together. It wasn’t the first time, you had countless sleepovers, you shared beds previously, you hugged and held hands many times, but somehow, for a little while now, Kento couldn’t really keep his cool next to you. He had always found you attractive – you were just perfect in every aspect he could think of. Maybe except the baking, but even that you improved a lot recently. You were the only woman he had such close contact since high school and, of course, there were his other female friends, like Shoko, Utahime or Mei Mei, but you, being his classmate – he felt the most comfortable with you. He loved your character; so light and cheerful and yet mature and calm. Nothing soothed him more than those movie nights with you. The ones that always turned into hours of chats about everything, with the film playing in the background. And in his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman he’s seen. Your figure got him salivating; so many nights he spent fucking his hand with the picture of you in front of his mind, it was almost embarrassing to think of a friend that way. But he couldn’t help himself and deep down, he was thankful for the way his body was able to keep composure with you close to him.

He had no idea how he’ll survive another night in one bed with you – it’s been quite some time since you shared one bed. For few years now, even if you were on a job together, you usually had different rooms or at least separate beds. He wouldn’t count those nights when you fall asleep on his shoulder, fully clothed on the couch as sleeping together. He couldn’t tell how many times he wished to just have you. For once. To see how you taste, how you feel. To make you feel good. Would that make things awkward between you two afterwards? He couldn’t tell. You were always fully honest with yourselves. Well, almost, because if he was to be completely straightforward with you, he’d tell you already that he dreams of you bouncing on his dick.

“Oh, fucking hell, get it together, Kento,” he muttered to himself, looking up at the clear sky through the soft cloud of steam that came from his mouth – evidence of temperature now being much lower at nights than it used to be in the last few months. The harsh moonlight nearly blinded him and he exhaled deeply, silently wishing that instead of this boring mission he’d get something more involving. Maybe patrolling Shibuya on one of the busiest nights during the year would have him occupied enough to not wonder how your pussy would feel around his cock. Could you even take him? Would you cry? Would you enjoy it? Fuck, he was really doomed.

Coming to terms with his cursed fate, he visited nearest convenience store, grabbing few of your favorite sweets and a bottle of wine and headed back to the hotel. You were nowhere to be seen in the apartment but the quiet cacophony of hushed noises from the bathroom clearly indicated that you were still there, probably getting ready to bed, so Nanami made sure the doors are closed and put the alcohol into the fridge. His thoughts were still wondering somewhere between reality and a fantasy of you.

“You bought us some liquid courage?”, you joked from behind him, your voice soft and mentally he kicked himself for not noticing you sneaking up on him, because when he turned out, the sight caught him off guard.

You were there, smelling divine with the slightly fruity note of the shower gel you used. Your hair was dry mostly, just barely dampened at the ends but what made him forget how to breathe properly was what you were wearing. Or rather what you were not wearing. You stood there, heightened on your tippytoes and barefoot, dressed only in a set of lingerie – it was blood-red in color, made entirely of thin, soft looking lace and leaving not much to imagination in a way it hugged your breasts; the see-through pattern made your nipples just teasingly noticeable. There was a thin, golden necklace hanging on your neck, drawing attention between your breasts where little letters K and H were hanging – your way of having both of your former classmates always next to your heart, but now he couldn’t focus on the shiny accessory when it was situated in the little valley between the swell of your chest. When Nanami looked a little lower, his eyes sliding down the curves of your body right to where the little, equally thin panties were resting against your hips, he swallowed thickly. The view went straight to his dick and it felt straining already.

“Should I look away?”, he asked, his voice cracking just barely at the beginning of the sentence, but his voice was now an octave lower, and you found it incredibly attractive. The question he asked was experimental, he needed to know if you wanted him to look at you or you just, for some reason, forgot the clothes from your backpack and came to get them.

“I’d wish you to not,” you replied, gently placing your hands over his chest and pushing him few steps back, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. Once you took his glasses off and made your way to the little table to safely put them there, you gave Nanami a chance to see the back of what little you were wearing, and he nearly moaned at the sight of the tiny thong.

“Is that your Halloween costume?”, he asked, noticing little devil-like tail that you had attached to the waist band of your panties. It’s only now that he realized there are two little horns on your head as well.

“It is Halloween after all,” you chuckled, getting back to him. “I figured you have enough tricks with Gojo, but I might have a treat for you.”

Kento sat down on the edge of the bed, pushed back by your hands and you found a place between his legs, slowly brushing your fingers through his hair. There was a certain amount of hesitation when he allowed his palms to rest on the sides of your thighs, the feeling of your soft skin sent electrical impulses from his fingertips to his member, making it more uncomfortable than it was just moments before.

“Oh my god, you’re beautiful,” he muttered, burying his nose into your stomach, peppering soft kisses over your flesh and immediately intoxicating himself with the subtle, sweet scent of you, the warmth of your flesh, the taste.

“So, you accept me as your Halloween treat?” You asked lightly, scratching at his scalp before he pulled away from your belly.

“If you are a treat, I might start liking that day.” He declared, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you over his thighs. You straddled him and immediately found his lips, hungry to finally taste him. Your nearly naked form and red lace contrasted heavily with the complete suit he still had on, the cotton fabric rested comfortably against your thighs as you fought with him for dominance in the kiss. Nanami’s large hands wandered over your shapes, examining your frame and sending shivers down your spine. His palms were cold against your skin, or maybe it was you who were burning with anticipation already, but the cool feeling made you gasp into his mouth.

Your hips rolled against his crotch; you could clearly feel his strangled erection fighting for any space inside his dress pants, the light beige cage trapping him almost painfully and you smiled into the kiss as he groaned lowly at the contact. Not faltering from his mouth, you began slowly grinding your clothed core against his dick, the size of his bulge made you more wet than you thought you’d be at this point and you were sure that if that takes any longer, you’ll leave a sticky patch over his trousers.

“Can I taste you?”, you asked, barely pulling away from the kiss; your lips still brushing against his as you panted out the words. “I really want to taste you, Kento.”

Nanami wasn’t the type to receive, he was rather the giver. He found pleasure in making others feel it, but who he was to say no, when you asked so nicely. Stealing one more kiss, he let go of your hips, allowing you to move down from his lap and he watched how you slowly dropped to your knees in front of him. He took few mental pictures of the sight, you really looked breathtaking like this, with your eyes half-lidded, your lips swollen and parted, glistening from saliva and panting softly for air. There was also some kind of unreasonable satisfaction to have you on your knees, dressed so scandalously whilst he had the perfectly tailored, business suit on.

“God, you’re bigger than I thought,” you muttered once his pants were opened and with a pull on his underwear, you let his cock spring free. His hard length bounced against his stomach, the tip angry and leaking, eager to be caressed and Kento purred when your hand wrapped around his girth, giving him few experimental pumps.

The way you looked at him from between his legs made him feel, like he could cum just from the sight of your eyes, so to spare himself the embarrassment, he grabbed his tie and with upmost expertise, covered your eyes with it. The sudden loss of vison made you gasp quietly, but there was no protest from you.

“Open your mouth for me,” he ordered and you were quick to comply, leaning in and giving his length few long licks. Your tongue followed the swollen vein on the underside of his cock and each stroke you finished with a soft suck on the tip. Hungry for more, you finally took him into your mouth, enveloping him with the warmth of your throat and you began to move – at first slowly, up and down, feeling his girth and using your hand where you couldn’t reach.

Nanami placed his large hand on top of your head, smoothing over your hair as you picked up the pace. The way your tongue danced around him, as you worked it intensely against his dick made him groan lowly – a sound that went straight in between your legs, the best kind of praise to what you were doing. You couldn’t see him, so what you were feeling and hearing filled you with satisfaction and you noted to yourself, that his already sexy voice sounds even hotter when he’s all worked up. You rarely ever heard Kento growl, he wasn’t usually angry or worn out enough to show anyone that side of him.

“Just like that, such a good girl,” he praised and you could feel him growing in your mouth, throbbing and flexing as you were sucking him like it was your job. But you were curious, so eager to know what he’s capable of, what he really wants because you struggled to believe he’s always so composed. Even now, as he was panting from pleasure you were giving him, you could tell he still held back, kept himself gentle and aware not to hurt you. You wanted him to let loose.

“Use me,” you pleaded, pulling him out of your mouth with a soft pop.

“I will hurt you,” he replied breathily, the top of his knuckles softly smoothing over your cheekbone.

“I will let you know if it’s too much,” you reassured. “I’ll tap your thigh if I can’t take it.”

There was no need to repeat it. Despite initial doubts, Nanami trusted you – a testimony to a decade you spent together. He knew you well enough to know you will indeed let him know if something’s wrong. You were not the type to please at the cost of your own health, so he wasn’t worrying that much when he collected all your hair into a ponytail, throwing the headband with devil horns away.

“Open,” his tone was demanding, way less friendly and much more harsh and the second after his words reached your ears, your jaw dropped down. You worked with him once his dick was back in your mouth, adjusting to the tempo he forced upon you. The tip of him time after time was hitting your throat, the salty precum spread all over your palate and you focused on breathing through your nose instead of gasping through lips.

You knew Nanami was close, you could feel his thighs tensing on your sides and you could tell by the way his grip on your hair tightened. The stinging pull on your follicles caused you to moan quietly, the vibration of your vocal cords reverberated onto his length and he groaned from above you. You teased him playfully with your teeth, grazing them alongside his dick and earning yourself a punishment – he pushed your head down onto himself, his tip deep down your throat and you whined incoherently, causing him to twitch right there. In no time, he was cumming, still forcing your head up and down his cock, abusing your pharynx with every thrust.

His seed was spilling through the corners of your mouth and once he let you off his member, his fingers were quick to catch the white drops from your chin and push them back into your mouth. Nanami scoffed slightly at the eagerness with which you sucked on his fingers and so it didn’t surprise him when even though he came already, you were quickly back on his dick, licking him clean and purring.

Nanami would let you play a little more if not for the desperate need to feel your pussy. Hence why in a matter of seconds, you were on the bed, flat on your back whilst he crawled above you, already toying with the waistband of your lacey panties.

“Now it’s my turn.”

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justkending · 1 year ago

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It's just a hobby. (Drabble)

Summary: You took up a new hobby, and Dean likes to poke and tease you for it, but you feel the need to seek a little revenge for the constant joking.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3300+

A/N: I started this during the summer when I started five different crocheting projects (ADHD carried my summer hobbies) and decided to finish it before school started back up. I am currently still writing Found Memories, but I have to put a pause on it as the first month of school tends to take a lot of my time away from hobbies like writing… I’m moving to teach 8th-grade English this year and could use all the energy you’re all willing to send my way! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this short story, and I’m happy to have the inspiration to write for Dean again :)

(Also, this is the closest to smut I think I've ever written...)

_______

“Seriously?” Dean grumbled as he looked in the rearview mirror seeing me pulling yarn to untangle a knot I had created.

Knowing where he was going with his normal banter, I just laughed and continued to focus on the craft in front of me.

“I pulled this out like 20 minutes ago. How are you just now noticing?”

“I’m watching the road,” he argued, and I rolled my eyes. As always, he had been sneaking glances to the back of the cab at me every other minute. “The hunt wasn’t even 40 minutes away from the bunker. Why did you bring that?”

“Why do you listen to the same three Led Zeppelin songs when you're upset about a hunt?” I countered, and he opened his mouth to disagree, but I answered for him to skip the sarcastic conversation brewing. “Comfort Dean. It’s all about comfort.”

“Why are you so weirded out by a normal hobby?” Sam jumped in, smirking, and sporting one of the many beanies I had made him with said hobby, which he had come to love. He looked down at a newspaper in his lap, no doubt already scoping out a new hunt.

“It’s not-” Dean stumbled on his answer. “I’m not weirded out by it. It’s just not a hobby I imagine someone like Y/N taking up.”

“You just described why you’re weirded out by it,” Sam looked at him with a blank stare.

He ignored him and rolled his eyes.

“What kind of people do you imagine the crocheting community to be full of?” I smiled, still looking down at my hands and knowing his answer already.

“Grandmas,” he replied almost immediately.

“Hmm,” I hummed as if surprised by his confession, even if it was wrong. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll stop wasting my talents on things for you.”

I could see his eyes shoot up in the mirror and a look of regret ghost over his green orbs.

Dean liked to make a big deal about this particular hobby I had started up a little over six months ago. I think a part of him just liked to tease me about it, but deep down, I knew he was proud of my growth. He was just bad at voicing it.

The first things I ever crocheted were just simple squares in different stitch work to learn a variety of them better. Those squares became washcloths and, surprisingly, were still used daily in the kitchen.

I learned to make bags, socks, hats, sweaters, stuffed animals, and even a few blankets.

“Just 30 minutes ago, you took down five security guards, wrestled three teenage vampires, and booby-trapped half of his nest. Now you’re crocheting a sweater for Charlie that says, ‘What’s up bitches?’ in the backseat. Mind you, with blood still smeared on your face,” he raised an eyebrow at me in the mirror.

I looked up and leaned toward the front to get a better look at myself.

“Oh, shit, I thought I got it all,” I groaned, seeing a smear on the side of my face I must have missed.

“It doesn’t add up,” he shook his head, but I could see a joking smile on his lips.

“Much to your surprise Dean, girls can have more than one personality trait. I know you boys are all, ‘Ugh, monsters! Kill, kill, kill! I need a scotch in my hand and The God Father playing on loop in the background to show how manly I-’

“Hey,” Sam cut me off and looked at me with his sad puppy dog eyes. “I’m on your side.”

“You’re right… You also like to read and share fun facts,” I winked, touseling his hair and getting a scoff of a laugh as he swatted my hand away. “See how hurtful it can be when you forget our brains have the capacity to do more than one thing?” I turned back to Dean with my arms crossed on the bench seat in front of me.

“I don’t think you're incapable of having more than one interest in life; I just think it’s interesting that you chose a 90-year-old women's side gig as your hobby,” Dean countered, pulling into the garage.

“Well, if you can’t appreciate it, then you can’t have the gifts my hard work creates,” I huffed, gathering my things and sliding back to the door as Dean parked the car.

Once the car was in park, I was the first out. I wasn’t actually mad at him, I was a hundred percent messing with him, but he deserved it for teasing me this long about it when I knew he loved everything I had made him this far.

He had a favorite blanket that he preferred to sleep with now. He had a nice sweater he wore around the bunker when he was cold. He had a few pairs of socks he preferred over store-bought ones. He even had a miniature plush Batman figurine that sat on his desk that I had learned to crochet just for him.

“Y/N, you don’t mean that!” he called after me, standing in the door on the driver's side of the Impala and shouting over the roof of it where I was walking inside.

“We'll find out soon,” I yelled back, never turning around.

The next three days, I teased him like he had me about this whole ordeal, but in my own way.

When we were cooking in the kitchen or doing dishes, if he grabbed one of the squares that now acted as our kitchen hand towels, I would steal it from his hands and say, “Sorry, merchandise can only be used by those who value it.”

With which he would respond, “Wait! I need that!” with his hands drenched in water after washing his hands.

Just for extra measure, I took all the towels and moved them to a new place only Sam and I knew. He was happy to join in on my little prank, and every time he had one, he made sure Dean saw him with it.

“Where did you get that?” Dean would jump up from wherever he was and march over to him to try and steal it.

“Only the VIP customers have access to these,” Sam would wave it above his head out of reach of Dean.

Another time, after a hunt, it was freezing in our motel room, where the heater barely worked, and the hotel didn't have enough blankets. Luckily I had one packed in the trunk of Baby, and I used it for extra coverage.

Even though Dean and I shared a bed, I wrapped it around me as I slept and said, “Sucks that you hate this so much, or else I’d share with you…”

He stared at me with complete annoyance when I gave him an exaggerated “Oh well” face before stealing it all for myself.

I did, however, wake up to sharing it, but only because he had stolen it, and I was too tired to fight him about it.

I think one of my favorite times I rebuked him of his privileges was when he was wearing a pair of socks I had made him for Christmas around the house. I may have gotten a little more intense than I needed to, but the look on his face made it worth it.

He had come into the movie room to binge a few episodes of a new series I got him hooked on, and after he called me in to watch with him, I noticed the specific socks he had on.

I grinned once my brain had formulated a plan to make him regret ever giving me hell for a hobby he obviously loved himself.

“Claire said there was a show called Love Island we should watch. I have no clue what it’s about, but she said it was popular and what the kids are watching now,” Dean conversed as he grabbed the remote from the table and stood with a blanket (not one of mine, as I had relocated all of them so he couldn’t find them) around his shoulders.

He was in the perfect position for my plan.

I walked over and, instead of facing the TV, stood right in front of him and looked up at him.

“You know what we could do?” I whispered in a low and sultry voice, bringing my hand up to his chest and inching my fingers up to the collar of his t-shirt before pulling at it gently. His eyes instantly darkened, and he was frozen in his place.

“Wh-What, uh, what can we do?” he stammered out. Even after three years of dating, he still got nervous. I loved it.

“I think you know what,” I said, tiptoeing upward to quietly say in his ear, bringing my hand from his chest to the back of his neck, softly pulling him closer to me.

“I think I have an idea,” he replied more confidently, immediately bringing his free hand to my waist and squeezing it.

I could have faltered there, but I held strong. I was going to make him pay for all his little ‘grandma’ jokes he had sent my way the last few months.

I pulled back, sending him a smirk that I knew revved him up. He returned it with his own and started leaning down, forgetting his grip on the blanket and remote. Now both of his hands sat on my hips with a stronghold.

Before he could lean down any further, I pushed him backward harshly on the couch, and at first, he was shocked, then he was excited.

Slouched into the cushion, looking up at me, his tongue came out to lick his lips and ended with a bite to his lower lip as he eyed me up and down as I stood over him.

“Dear God, Y/N,” he hummed under his breath.

I guess it helped that I was wearing some of my shorter PJ shorts, ones he had told me were his favorites, and a shirt that was cropped and slightly falling off my shoulder.

He had a thing for me being in a disheveled manner like this. Reminded him of how I looked after we fucked around, and he held pride knowing he played a part in the kind of glow I gave off.

I wasn’t sure how long I could do this without failing myself on the original mission. I came here to fuck with him, and now he was the fucker. Or at least he was going to be if I didn’t follow through with my plan in the next minute.

“You know, you should be happy you were by the couch,” I smiled, stepping to him and strategically bringing my legs to straddle his hips teasingly.

His breath hitched at that, and I knew I had regained the upper hand.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” he hummed as he admired my hands pressing into his chest as I leaned in, bringing myself closer to him.

“I was about to take you wherever I found you,” I whispered, looking him dead in the eyes with a soft smile. I looked him up and down and bit the inside of my cheek. That seemed to trigger his hands back to my hips instantly. This time a much more possessive lock on them.

“I don’t know where this is coming from, but I can’t complain,” he said lowly, and I knew he was hooked. Now it was time for revenge.

“Can I ask you a question?” I hummed, running my finger lightly over his hair down to his jaw, using the tip of it to push his chin up so I could see his eyes better.

“Please,” he buzzed, drunk with lust.

“Hmm,” I hummed, smiling more, dropping my gaze to his lips, then back at his eyes where he was drowning in dopamine by our current position. “Those socks you have on?” He didn’t catch on immediately and just furrowed his eyes as he processed what I asked. “They look familiar.”

I leaned back from my seat, still straddling his hips, but not with nearly as much pressure as before.

“What-” Dean started, but it dawned on him mid-thought. His eyes went from ready to tear my clothes off to annoyed realization. “Seriously.”

“What?” I feigned ignorance and stood up, repositioning myself between his legs, both hands on his knees as I looked at him and leaned over.

He couldn’t tell which way this was going for him, and that was the point. I was still winning this little game.

I eased myself lower, squatting with my knees going into the couch and in between his thighs. My hands went flat on his knees and slowly started working up his thighs.

“I can’t tell what you’re doing here, Y/N,” he said in a breathy voice. I watched as he tried to control himself, looking up away from me but not being able to help react to my hands on him.

“I’m not doing anything,” I said in a voice that made him lower his nervous wandering eyes back to me. The amount of green in his eyes disappeared slowly.

“You’re teasing me,” he said shortly as if he was worried his voice would tremble if he didn’t get it out quickly.

“Maybe, maybe not,” I shrugged with a pursed lip before bringing my hands slowly back down his legs.

“You’re mad at me,” he stuttered the last word when my hands worked their way back up, but further up than before.

“Now, why would you think that?” I tutted, shaking my head with an exaggerated look of hurt.

All he could do was take a slow, deep breath in as I tilted my head and smiled devilishly at him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t play innocent.”

I grinned.

“You and I both know I’m far from that…” My tone was darker than before but in a seductive and tempting manner.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He shot up from his slouched position and leaned forward, grabbing my forearms in his hands and pulling me up in his lap with his nose mere inches from my own.

“If your goal was to make me suffer, you won,” he whispered so quietly; if I wasn't this close, I wouldn't have heard it. He tilted his head up just enough for our noses to brush before pulling back.

“Keep it together, girl… Keep it fucking together,” I repeated in my head.

“Did I? Or am I just getting started?” I snarked, and that caused the new grip on my thigh to tighten, and I almost groaned at the pressure.

“Don’t start a war you can’t win,” he smirked, feeling as though he possessed the power.

Two can play that game.

I smiled, bringing my free hand up and tracing it behind his ear before wrapping it slowly around the back of his neck. I brought his face closer to mine but stopped right when I could feel the brush of his lips.

Our chests were pressed into each other, and I could feel his heart rate pick up. Perfect.

I nudged our noses again and smiled as his eyes closed, and he naturally and lazily chased my lips.

I rocked my hips in a measured manner, placed perfectly in the middle of his lap, and he sucked in a breath at the friction.

“Women don’t start wars. They finish them,” I whispered before promptly standing up and, in a swift motion, yanking the socks he had on off and walking to the exit.

“Y/N!” I could hear his shout from the couch from where I knew he was with a full hard-on, unable to move just yet.

“This granny is going to bed!” I shouted, speed-walking to my room in case he decided to run after me.

“You little-!” the shout still seemed far behind me, and I quickly shut my bedroom door and locked it.

Thankfully, I think I left him incapacitated for a second, and he didn’t follow me immediately.

I actually didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night. I hoped I didn’t upset him, but also, the whole reason I had done what I had was because he had become a little ass about my favorite hobby. I don’t mind the jokes, but after a while, you want a pat on the back for learning something new. Especially from someone you care about.

I went ahead and did my normal nighttime routine and got into bed before I started to read a book. I must have dozed off while reading because I woke up to the lights out, my book on the end table, and Dean crawling into the other side of the bed.

Before I could say anything, his arms came around my waist, and he pulled me to his core. He was in his boxers and one of his soft t-shirts I made him wear to bed.

For the record, I was perfectly fine with him in no shirt (or pants, for that matter), but when he did wear a shirt, I made him put on a certain kind cause his band and certain graphic tee ones were itchy on me when we cuddled.

He took a deep sigh and nuzzled his face into the crevice between my neck and shoulder, one of his favorite places.

“Why’d you lock your door?” he asked, already knowing I had woken up.

He had definitely picked the lock.

“I thought you were going to hunt me down, and I forgot to unlock it,” I replied sleepily.

There was silence for a minute, and eventually, he spoke up, whispering in my ear his apology.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” I sighed with a winning grin he couldn't see, knowing why but playing coy anyway.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you how much I appreciate your brain,” he answered.

That was not what I expected, but I was intrigued.

“Hmmm,” I smiled, moving my hands to his that were wrapped around my ribs and nuzzling my backside closer to him. “Don’t stop now; you’re on a roll.”

He laughed and invited my attempt to fit into him like a puzzle piece.

“You’re ambitious with everything you want to learn to do, and I don’t tell you enough how much of a turn-on that is,” he hummed, rubbing his head into mine and peppering a kiss on my neck here and there. “And I know you know how much I love the skills you gain, but sometimes I’m bad about just saying how impressive you are to me.”

“You like my crocheting skills, Winchester,” I chuckled, turning my body to face him now and throwing one of my legs over his hips, pulling back in some. “Just say it.”

“I love your crocheting skills,” he replied with a wide grin and brought a hand up to move the stray hairs that fell on my face. “I love your baking and cooking. I love your impressive TV show-binging skills. I love the random facts you have stored in that beautiful brain of yours. I love your surprisingly nerdy side of Marvel and superheroes. I love your attempt at being a gardener.”

“Hey, I have three plants that are thriving right now!” I argued, poking a finger in his chest, which he grabbed and kissed the tip of.

“I love everything you’re passionate about,” he finished off. “I don’t tell you enough, and sometimes I like to see that face you give me when I tease you.” I gave him a look. “Maybe more than sometimes… But! I do love all those things and more about you, Y/N.”

“I don’t doubt it,” I replied, scooting in closer. “But it is nice to hear it from those captivating lips of yours.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

We started smiling at each other, and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about earlier.

“I’m sorry I teased you,” I sighed, moving to where I was embedded in his chest, and he wrapped himself back around me.

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” he replied, chin on my head before he bent down and kissed the top of it. “I will say, though, I’ve never been mad about seeing that side of you.”

“What side?” I looked up at him.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing,” he chuckled, pulling my head back to him.

“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed after a minute. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“You’re my favorite person. You know that, right?”

“Feelings are very much mutual,” he answered, caressing a hand up and down my back.

“Good. I’d have to kill you with one of my knitting needles if you said otherwise. Who said needleworking wasn’t dangerous, right?”

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @drakelover78 @caruhleener

Supernatural Tags:

@flamencodiva @hobby27 @sucker-for-dean @deans-baby-momma @squirrelgirl67 @death-unbecomes-you @snffbeebee @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spnbaby-67 @akshi8278 @musiclovinchic93 @vicmc624 @carryon-doctor-lock @perpetualabsurdity @herscrunchiehairtie @spnwoman @shamelesslydean @monkeymcpoopoo @winchestergirl82 @luciathewinchestergirl @deansyahtzee @thatgirl1456 @sucker-for-dean @atomicloverdonkeyperson @screechingartisancashbailiff @akshi8278 @supernatural3002

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader drabble #dean winchester drabble #justkending #spn fanfic #dean winchester spn #dean winchester x you #spn dean winchester #drabble #spn drabble

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pascaloverx · 2 months ago

Text

NO LIGHT

SUMMARY: Your life is simple. You are a pastry chef who has just opened a bakery near your home. A new life, being a new person. But when James Barnes shows up at your bakery injured, asking you to offer him shelter, your life takes a sudden turn.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The characters in this fanfiction are not my creation and all belong to the Marvel universe. This story will feature scenes of violence, brief intense intimate moments, and inappropriate language. To the readers, I wish you a good read and ask that you engage with the fanfiction if you like it. Do not interact with this fanfiction if you are underage. Enjoy reading.

THREE FIVE

FOUR

You're trying to avoid looking directly at Steve while he enjoys an éclair and sips your mediocre coffee. In reality, you're pretending to be busy in the back of the bakery, hoping he'll leave without asking you anything else. Despite him being easy on the eyes, you're afraid he might be too persuasive, and you might accidentally give away Barnes, which would break his trust in you.

"You always knew your hands could make treats like these that seem to be made by angels?" Steve asks as he stands up from the small table where he was sitting. You smile slightly, finding his compliment to your baking skills sweet, though you're still on edge.

"In reality, my mother is a chef, so I was always inclined to work with cooking. Ironically, my mother isn't very fond of baking. But I fell in love with it, making some desserts and breads. To answer your question, I always knew I had to be good at something culinary, even if just as a hobby," you speak gently as you collect the plate and utensils that Steve used. When he hands them to you, your hands briefly touch. You notice that his hands are incredibly soft for a guy, and the sensation sends a slight shiver down your spine.

“Are you interested in going out today?” Steve asks, still close to you. At first, you think he might be joking, but he really seems to want to go out with you. However, something tells you that it's more out of suspicion than genuine interest.

“I don’t know your friend, and a date isn’t going to change that. I sincerely hope you find this Bucky of yours, but it won’t be with me.” You say, stepping away and likely sounding too blunt. What a hassle—having to turn away a handsome stranger to protect another handsome stranger.

“It’s clear when you’re lying. I saw your reaction to Barnes’s photo, which might be nothing, but it seems like something. So, go out with me and prove me wrong, or cowardly hide the fact that you know James Barnes. The choice is yours.” Rogers’s blue, maybe greenish eyes seem to pierce through you. He’d make a great priest, as something in his words eats away at your guilt. You’re lying to him, and it doesn’t feel fair. But he could be deceiving you, and you can’t take that risk.

"I close the bakery normally at six in the evening, if the business is slow. There's a restaurant right across the street; we can have pizza and maybe a glass of wine. You can interrogate me as much as you want. After that, this matter will be closed. Does that sound good?" You say, looking him straight in the eye, and then extend your hand towards him, waiting for him to seal the deal. He takes your hand firmly while looking at you with determination.

Steve then leans in close to you, almost as if he’s about to kiss you. It would be crazy, right? But then he whispers, "I’ll be at the restaurant at seven o'clock waiting for you. I believe you don’t want me to come to your place and find out what you're hiding from me. And by the way, tell Barnes it’s a shame he’s making such a beautiful woman turn into a big liar." Steve says, leaving you speechless before exiting your bakery.

The thought of finding Barnes's best friend and lying to him, while also accepting a date that seems both tempting and terrifying, distracts you for the rest of the day. So, an hour earlier than usual, you close your bakery and rush home, knowing you need to inform Barnes, Bucky, or whatever other name he goes by, that his best friend is searching for him. As soon as you enter your apartment, you rush to your bedroom, frantically searching for something to wear for your date with Steve. Your mind is in chaos, and no dress seems right for a man whose main interest in seeing you is to figure out if you're lying. On top of that, you're confused about why you're even in this situation—lying and acting like a criminal when you've done nothing wrong. All of this because a customer at your bakery is handsome enough to make you lose your sense of right and wrong. Suddenly, a wave of desperation washes over you. Amidst the clothes scattered on the floor, you reach into the pocket of your pants and pull out your phone. You dial the emergency number, feeling a wave of nausea, both metaphorical and literal. Are you really about to report Mr. Barnes? Well, you’re just telling the truth, right? It will probably lead to his arrest, maybe even worse... but that’s not your problem, is it?

"You can tell them I'm standing in your living room when they ask if you know where I am," a voice says from behind, startling you. James is standing there with his arms crossed, looking less than pleased. You quickly hang up the phone before the emergency line even picks up. Honestly, you feel like a rebellious child caught red-handed doing something wrong.

"How did you get in here?" you ask as you try to recover from the shock. Your hands tremble as your nerves take over. You're not sure if you're safe with Barnes or if he's the kind to seek revenge for an almost-betrayal.

"I came to check on you, see if everything was alright. I noticed you got here early, and I got worried… but it seems that was for nothing. You didn’t need to rush to your apartment just to turn me in. And don’t bother denying it." Barnes says, still standing there, his voice low and tense, sending chills down your spine. It’s clear you’ve struck a nerve—maybe his pride, maybe something deeper. You stare at him, searching for the right words to explain yourself.

"I won’t lie, I was going to turn you in. I’m not like you. The weight of knowing something that others don’t, it’s eating me alive. First, two agents showed up at the bakery looking for you, and now your best friend, who doesn’t seem like he's just here to catch up. I had a moment of weakness…" You trail off, not explicitly naming what you were about to do, though it’s painfully clear. You were ready to hand Barnes over to the authorities. He lets out a frustrated sigh, followed by a bitter smile. His eyes lock onto yours, and you feel exposed, almost tainted, under his gaze.

Barnes steps closer, extending his phone toward you since yours is still on the floor, discarded in your rush to hang up. You look at him, puzzled, unsure of what he wants you to do. "Clear your conscience, make the call. I promise I won’t resist," he sighs, waiting for you to take the phone from his hand. An unsettling feeling creeps over you, a weight of guilt, as if you’re betraying him in the worst way. His calm demeanor makes it even worse, and the thought of going through with it makes you feel like you're stabbing him in the back.

"Are you really going to let me turn you in just like that?" you ask softly, feeling a bit ashamed, knowing that no matter his answer, there’s something strangely intimate about him letting you be the one to hand him over. Maybe you’re losing your mind. Barnes looks at you for a long moment, his eyes softening just a little.

"If that’s what you need to do," he says quietly, "then go ahead. I won’t stop you." You can't help but feel a knot in your chest. The idea of having this power over him, of being the one who decides his fate, makes everything feel even more complicated.

"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted like that. It wasn’t fair to try to turn you in; it was just too much pressure, I’m not used to this." You look at Barnes, regretful of what you might have done. His hand with the phone is in front of you, so you place both your hands under his and shake your head as if to say he can trust you, at least for a moment. He looks at you, then places the phone on the coffee table. He turns to you, placing his hand gently on your face and caressing your cheek. It’s so comforting that you close your eyes, feeling like you can finally breathe peacefully for the first time.

"You don’t have to carry this burden, not for me," he says softly. You’re still lost in the gentle touch of Barnes’ hand. You then open your eyes to find Barnes looking at you as if you were his most precious treasure. All the anger he seemed to be feeling earlier seems to have vanished.

"I'll go on the date with your best friend and try to throw him off. I hope you'll accept this as an apology," you say, looking into Barnes' blue eyes. He’s still standing right in front of you. "I don’t want you to expose yourself like this, Y/N. I can handle Steve my way. This life full of dangers and lies is mine; I never should have involved you in it," Barnes replies, pulling his hand away from you. His gaze is distant, and it saddens you in some way.

"Let me do this for you, then," you say almost weakly as you feel Barnes pulling away. "And then I'll leave you in peace." You can’t bear to look at Barnes anymore; instead, you gaze down at your feet.

“Look into my eyes, Y/N. And tell me, when you look at me, do you see a man who isn't at peace when he's with you?” There’s a melancholy in Barnes's voice, and you gather the courage to meet his gaze. He’s closer than you realized.

"I see a man who has a lot to hide. You must carry a burden much greater than mine. So let me help you; maybe I can be of use to you." You step closer to Barnes, and as he looks at you once more, you feel as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe or move. You’re sure you must be blushing, given how hot your body feels.

"Wear a dress that shows your legs; it’ll distract Rogers enough to make him forget why he’s interrogating you. Also, lie about trivial details. Tell him your favorite color is green, that you have two older brothers—something like that. He’ll analyze your facial expressions to see when you’re telling the truth or lying. It’ll confuse him. Try not to deny that you know me; just say you remember seeing me as one of your customers. He might be convinced." Barnes advises you, but doesn’t come any closer. He appears hesitant, as if struggling with conflicting thoughts. You nod in agreement without speaking. The silence in your apartment becomes painfully oppressive. You want to walk over to Barnes, to kiss him and perhaps make love on the cold floor of your apartment. But he doesn’t seem to feel the same way, as he turns and walks away, leaving you with a heavy heart.

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