#i need a distraction desperately or just some damn sleep but I can't sleep because of responsibilities 😭

[magicshop]

need whatever joon's new project is to come and save me ☹️

[notroosterbradshaw]

My darling! For your fluff prompts, may I request "29. kisses in which, we've already said goodbye for the day but i can't help stealing another one" with rooster??? That one seems so perfect for him, please and thank you! (And no pressure to write this of you're not feeling it) 💜🌿

PROMPT: 29. kisses in which, we've already said goodbye for the day but i can't help stealing another one

thank you for this, my love, hope you enjoy xx

"You gotta go. You're going to get a reputation for your tardiness," you managed to sputter out, Rooster's lips on your pulse so distracting you were struggling with the words. Your fingers were lost in the short wisps of hair at the nape of his strong neck, not encouraging him at keeping his ministrations up in the slightest.

"Too late," he admitted.

"Bradley," you warned, but it certainly seemed more like a moan as he chuckled into your skin and pulled his hands away.

"Okay, okay," he left a single kiss on your lips as he pried himself away from you. "I'll go, but only because it's my duty. I'd much rather continue lovin' on you," he stood to his height, adjusting his uniform. He was such a mess, you giggled behind your hand. Thoroughly debauched, he was never sexier.

"Have a good day, and stay safe," you said, ready to roll over and go back to sleep. "Love you."

"Love you, sweetheart," he wandered out, the bed calling him - he wasn't tired, just wanted to stay as close to you as possible. He closed the bedroom door after him quietly and moved to the bathroom, giving himself the once over and running his long fingers through his unruly sunkissed wavy hair in pretence to try and look put together. His cheeks flushed, the pull to the bedroom weighing on him. Why would he want to sit in seminars and lectures in not stay in bed with you? It was a daily struggle.

Forcing himself to the kitchen, he poured his coffee from your coffee machine that did the fancy things but all he needed was black to wake himself up and get a move on. Keys, sunglasses, wallet, bag, he truly would never be a morning person, and this morning proved it.

How else did he get his callsign?

At least you made his mornings a little kinder, he always walked in with a grin after waking up beside you. He tossed his gear in the passenger side and pulled himself into the driver's seat, key toying with the engine, tapping the ignition, a slight irritation coming to him as he stared at the villa before him. And before he knew it, he was out of the Bronco, unlocked the house and coming back to the bedroom where you’d rolled into his pillow and snuggled in, back to sleep. Gentle and quiet, he was desperate to cuddle in with you. He eased himself to your side of the bed, tenderly brushing your hair from your face.

“You were supposed to be on your way by now, Bradshaw. You’ve got 200 push-ups in your plans this afternoon,” you mumbled as he chuckled and you slowly opened your eyes again. “What do you need?”

“Just you,” he admitted, giving you one more light kiss. “I love you. Just wanted to let you know,” he begrudgingly got to his feet as you made grabby hands for him.

“Don’t leave,” you begged as he chuckled and dashed back to the bed to love on you some more. Push-ups be damned, his shoulders and biceps had never looked better. He’d suffer through the long afternoon if it meant another few minutes kissing you. 

[readingrebloggingreliving]

Stuck

Summery: Finn has been stuck in this coffin for a thousand years. And nothing can ever be easy. Never.

Word Count: 792

A/N: First attempt at this so honestly I may rewrite this later but it's been stuck in my head because of a conversation with @crimsonlyinglilly so...have my first attempt.

Finn doesn't know when it started. When the darkness, the calm nothing became him stuck. Him hearing everything but unable to join, not able to touch, talk or see. Stuck with being able to hear and smell. Stuck in this torture seeing Why

The first thing he does remember being so clear is another brother's voice. Elijah. Talking of their travelling. Of some group he'd began with his sired. How Klaus made him abandon them. As that had trailed off he. Felt a hand move fixing clothes against dead yet so sensitive skin. "I wish I could wake you brother. I do so hate to see you like this. But... I can't. Niklaus would take it as a personal slight. And perhaps it's better for you as well. You never truly did like what we are. I hope the darkness is kinder to you." His voice was honest. Genuine.

But it made him scream mentally. It was the most obvious sign that he was still here because of his brother. Klaus. Klaus put him here. In the darkness. Stuck in his mind. He wanted to call out in denial as Elijahs footsteps lead away from him. Desperate for Some level of connection to the outside world. To life.

He always heard as his siblings approached or left. Following them around the house, the only thing he still had left. Klaus was the one who talked to him most. He never had an apology for his predicament like Elijah did more often than not. Nor was he really addressed. Klaus simply seemed to use him as a sound board. Ranting about their siblings about enemies and plans gone wrong.

Rebekah's voice was calm and almost a balm in comparison. She'd tell him of things he was missing as much as complaining of the newest love that Klaus had killed or compelled away. So at least he felt like he was connecting Somehow.

"You know. I have a plan." Kol had started. It was almost a surprise. Kol never spoke to him. "There's this magic. It can turn silver to gold. So we can change one of the daggers to gold and let Nik have a taste of his own medicine!" His voice was bouncy, excited. Like it used to be when he was young. When mother was teaching them of new magic or spells. He'd missed that, even just from afar. "I just need to find a big enough stone." He said and Finn could hear him pacing and then sigh. "When it works brother. I'll drag that dagger from your chest. And we'll go our separate ways. As we should have all those years ago. Always and forever be damned."

There was a spark of hope, light hitting his chest at the words.

Those were quickly burnt out hearing Elijah talking. But it wasn't to him.

"Kol. You can't imagine Rebekah would stand against Niklaus. And not could I be seen to. Why not keep it to yourself. You know better." He'd said softly. Finn would laugh if he could. 'be seen to' as if Elijah would ever fight Klaus. "I'm sure your plan was sound. Except if he ever woke. He'd have attempted to kill us all if we helped." A flicker of doubt hit Finn. Perhaps Elijah would help them. "Until you wake again." Elijah said lightly and the lid of a coffin closed.

Kol had been woken again and this time Elijahs speech was different. " I see a change in him. For the first time in centuries, he acted solely for the benefit of another. I believe that young Marcellus, with whom he can identify and even nurture, holds the key to our brother's troubled soul. Unfortunately, Kol, your wretched behavior will only serve to distract him from this auspicious path. Now, you might well consider me a hypocrite to betray you as I have. For his sake, you must sleep. Even I must make certain sacrifices, if, indeed, we are to preserve the precious bond between Niklaus and that child."

Finn was struck by that dull disappointment once more. Elijah was his hope. And as it stands? He was never getting out of this darkness.

Until he did.

The fight between Elijah and Klaus. The admitting to their mothers murder. The rage he felt burnt through his system and the Relief as that dagger was dragged from his chest to see his brother above him, explaining, in hushed whispers, the plan.

The idea of their family being a family but removing Klaus. Leaving him behind. The four of them together at some level of peace sounded wonderful. Hopefully with Elijah on their side finally. They'd be fine.

Perhaps he could find Sage. If she was still alive, see if she'd allow him another chance.

[rudnitskaia]

Found this in my phone notes. I wrote this when I was in one of my darkest and lowest points. I remember how I barely could breathe because of sobs and my hands were shaking while I was typing, and how I completely broke when I couldn't write one simple word without mistakes several times in a row.

And then one of my friends suddenly sent me a meme with a funny cat and I laughed on it, continuing to cry.

Now I feel like I need to share what I wrote that day.

I hid that note, which seems much more like a short story now, under the cut. PLEASE don't read it if you're sensitive to such themes as su!/c!de and depression. Thank you.

If I had a guardian angel

Sometimes I think that if I had a guardian angel, it would have been an approximately 40-year-old extremely tired and very quiet man, who has constant lack of sleep, disheveled hair, an oversize coat with some missing buttons and one splintered shoe. He chose me once because he was an extremely gambling person and thought that he can "lead this horse to victory" (even her name means that, right?), but unfortunately I turned out to be "a limping mare", so he simply lost all his resources while making bets on me. He was furious at me at first and desperately tried to push me forward without any success, but after a while, after watching on how I live, he has grown to care for me and has willingly dropped his reserves of wishes and miracles enormously below zero, all useless spent in order to cheer me up. Now he is in huge debts, and every time I start to cry and think that I'm not worth living he only sighs and again borrows some tiny happy coincidence from more successful angels just to prevent my disastrous thoughts and make me live through another day. He sits next to me, glances at his splintered shoe, then pats the top of my head and smiles, when that happy coincidence brings me some funny picture or a small notification that distracts me from sadness for a short while. And he murmurs under his breath: "There, there, my little one, we're gonna get through this, you'll see. You'll see".

And that is all just because he, like all the guardian angels, committed a su!/c!de in his past and doesn't want me to also work as a guardian angel when I die. Because after living beside me for so long he is pretty sure that I would sleep over all my shifts and miss all my chances to gain redemption and after that I'll be sent straight to hell, and definitely not that luxury hell, where many intelligent poets, musicians and other cool people of the past are chilling, but into the huge bureaucracy department where all the papers must be filled manually, folded, stamped, sorted and so on, infinitely. And there would be slanted toilets and no coffee in the whole damned office. At all. Knowing me and my devotion to coffee, he simply can't let that happen, and so he doesn't sleep, soothing my bad dreams, and walks beside me to catch me on every stumble and fall.

And sighs.

And borrows.

And then smiles.

[aerick-cosmic-cauldron]

I'm so done

living in this house is literally hell i need to get out as fast as possible, but I can't even move myself to work or to attend to my basic needs. I'm so desperately trapped in this hell. my mom and grandma are incapacitated and constantly interrupt our sleep, we can't use the bathroom, their incapacity and our economic situation made this a living hell for everyone around. It feels so horrible but my god I refuse to help them, the only thing I can think of is to escape, to rent a room or something and live there, but I'd be living in constant uncertainty, I'd have to work cleaning the streets or something and pray for the universe to keep me on the work.

This seems like a reasonable plan, but I need to get antidepressants first and I lost the damn paper with the appointment, I need to search for it. when once I'm medicated I'll be able to move more toward my goals.

something is telling me to forget about the video game dev project. but I need to do it, It is for self-expression, I need that to build a firm sense of identity and be able to connect with people. Actually making said project hurts like hell for a bitch like me who wanna avoid any hard experience as much as possible. And that's where the issue is. Right now I don't even know how to plan this shit is too big of a project I need to get realistic about it, but I want it to be good too, I don't know how to balance this shit. the good thing is I can progress on the programming part and then create animations and stories. this is how imma do it.

writing all of this makes me a little lonely and empty, but it is not the writing isn't it, it's my damn lifestyle. but I cannot change it yet, I just need to survive it a bit. in the meanwhile I'm keeping myself busy with a fan page but it's becoming so hard to do it, way too time-consuming because I can't focus. but it's giving sense and structure to my day-to-day, so I'll keep it going; also it gave me a huge distraction from this hellhole of a house I'm living in. Hopefully, I gain some energy to advance in the game dev project too.

[muertawrites]

Following a Siren (Eddie Munson x Reader) [18+]

Summary: Corroded Coffin desperately needs a singer to help balance out their first ever album. Lucky for them, Eddie shares a hall with a certified siren. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ only because i went a little crazy with perv!eddie (i just love him ok). i might write a second part where he gets to live his little fantasy... 👀 sappy romcom shit that i hate watching / reading but have no problem writing 

Author’s Note: aged everyone up to their mid-late 20s when everybody is out of hawkins and happy. posting this unedited because it’s 4am and i have to at least try to get some sleep. inspired by my own experience singing this song in my high school choir (it’s so much fun the chorus parts are better than the solos) and amber riley’s performance which is the only redeeming quality of the glee version. 

"I'm telling you, man, it's not gonna work. We need a chick."

Eddie glances between Gareth and Jeff, arms braced against the back of a chair, lips pursed together in frustration.

It's been hours and they still can't get any of the harmonies right. They're so close, but the song is just... unmemorable. A song easily and readily skipped, when it has the potential to be a totally amazing, stop-what-you're-doing, turn-the-volume-up, cream-in-your-pants showstopper. And Corroded Coffin needs it to be a showstopper; this is their first album - recorded in an actual studio with professional equipment and a genuine producer -and they can't blow their one chance at glory by having it flop.

But Gareth is right - it isn't going to work. They need vocals in a much higher range to balance out their lower tones. Unfortunately, they know about as many women between them as they did in high school.

"We can't afford to pay anyone," Jeff states. "Why don't we just scrap it?"

"We can't scrap it," Eddie quips. "It's too damn good. It just needs a little push."

"Could we do the harmony with instrumentals?" Gareth suggests. "You could just sing with the guitar."

"Nah, that wouldn't have the right umph," Eddie disagrees. "A vocal harmony would smash way harder."

"So we're stuck."

Eddie sighs, raking a hand through his hair.

"... I'll figure something out," he decides. "Just gimme some time. We're gonna do this if it fucking kills me."

Eddie huffs as he throws himself down onto his couch, snapping the tab on a beer can as he takes a long drag from a freshly rolled joint.

He's totally fucked. There's no way in hell he can find someone on short notice, with no budget, to carry the missing harmony. Nothing he has scrawled in the various notebooks stashed around his studio apartment is anywhere near finished, and even if it were, it wouldn't live up to what they already have.

Nobody will ever hear the song the way it's supposed to be heard. The thought crushes him.

The chime of keys and tread of boots echoes from the hallway, distracting Eddie from his visions of doom; you've returned home for the day. He closes his eyes, letting his mind wander to you - how you smiled sleepily at him this morning when you left for work, how pretty you looked in the dress you wore, how your lips were chapped and split, darkened with dry blood towards the center, how sweet your groggy laughter sounded when he said something stupid in passing. You've lived across the hall from him for the better part of a year - sharing the space above a convenience store, where you run into each other constantly - and his thoughts have been consumed by you since the day you moved in.

His cock twitches in his jeans, perking up at the images of you flitting around in his skull. Shame starts to rise in his stomach, but that doesn't stop him from going completely hard. He sighs.

C'mon man, don't be gross.

But it's too late. He's already relapsed into his favorite fantasy about you; inviting you backstage after one of his gigs and fucking you so hard you can't speak, skirt hiked up, panties pushed aside, makeup smeared and running as he drives you toward a messy, mewling orgasm. Holding you against his chest and kissing your lips, your face, your neck as you ride out the high.

His hand is in his pants before he can think better of it.

He's barely two strokes in when a gorgeous sound breaks him from his sexed-out haze. It starts as a simple chime, floating on the air as effortlessly as dust, before slowly growing louder, more joyous, every note driven with the force of a hurricane.

It's you.

You're singing.

And you're incredible.

Eddie springs to his feet, jeans still completely undone. He rushes across the hall, tapping frantically at the door to your apartment; your singing stops, and he almost regrets interrupting you for the loss.

The door swings open and you give him a once over, smirking amusedly when you clock his open fly, boxers tugged down to reveal the tiniest patch of his pubic hair.

"Eddie, I'm flattered," you tease, "but a date first would be nice."

"Shit, fuck, sorry."

He stuffs himself back into his pants, grinning bashfully before clearing his throat, leaning an arm against the doorframe as casually as he can. You can't help but giggle, having spent enough time with him that you'd developed an ever-growing crush on the eccentric, well-meaning man.

"What's up?" you ask.

"My band," he tells you. "We desperately need a singer and I think you're perfect."

He pauses for a moment, thinking over what he's said.

"As a singer!" he quickly clarifies. "As a singer."

You smile, biting your lip and entirely unable to stop the warmth that creeps across your cheeks. The way you gaze up through your lashes at Eddie makes him weak in the knees.

"I haven't done any serious singing since high school," you admit. "And never anything like you guys do. Plus... aren't you the vocalist?"

Eddie scoffs, waving away your statement with a slender, ring-adorned hand.

" 'Vocalist' is a stretch," he chuckles. "All I do is carry a tune. And it wouldn't be just you, anyway, we'd sing together. We can cover up each other's mistakes."

You sigh, still not entirely convinced.

"... I don't know. Like I said, I've never performed in a band before and I just... I would feel bad if I brought you guys down. I'm really not that good."

Eddie furrows his brow in confusion, craning his neck toward you as if you just told him Ozzy was a mediocre musician. He raises a hand to your forehead.

"Are you feeling okay?" he questions. "Your voice is fucking amazing! Why would I run over here with my pants down if it wasn't?"

He dramatically falls onto his knees, taking one of your hands in both of his as he fixes you with a pleading gaze. His thumbs softly stroke at your knuckles, causing an involuntary chill to run down your spine.

"Fair maiden from across the hall," he laments, "gentle lady with the voice of a siren, do us the honor of gracing us with your divine beauty. For my gratitude, I shall henceforth keep the volume on my stereo at a reasonable level, and shower you with the finest tributes of pizza and iced coffee."

You laugh, far too endeared by his antics for your own good.

"Get up, you goon," you playfully scold. "I'll come to your practice tomorrow for an audition. How about that?"

"Yes!"

Eddie springs to his feet, wrapping you in his arms and spinning you with joy.

"Thank you," he says as he sets you down. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you, you're a fucking life saver. You won't regret it, I promise."

He plants a kiss on your cheek, leaving you brimming with butterflies as he darts back into his apartment. He pops his head back out a moment later, phone in hand.

"What do you want on your pizza?"

At promptly six o’clock the next evening, you climb the steps to the little apartment in downtown Indianapolis that serves as Corroded Coffin’s makeshift studio. It’s an attic space, with slanted ceilings and wood floors padded with dirty, worn-out flea market rugs; posters featuring the likes of Sabbath and Megadeath line the walls, and most of the light is provided by a little circular window and a string of white Christmas bulbs strung along the edge of the room. The air is heavy with the scent of cannabis and incense. You’re reminded of Eddie’s apartment as you step inside, a fact you hate to admit calms your nerves a little bit. 

“Alright.” 

Eddie claps his hands together, grinning at you with his guitar slung over his shoulder. 

“What beautiful sounds will you be blessing us with today, gorgeous?” 

You purse your lips, taking a deep breath as you try to remind yourself that you’re good at this - there’s no reason to be so anxious. 

“You guys know any Queen?” you ask, sounding meeker than you intend. 

“Of course we do!” Gareth chirps from behind the drum set. 

“How about you just start singing, yeah?” Jeff chimes in. “We’ll join in. We do better by ear, anyway.” 

You nod, stepping up to the microphone as Eddie presses the start button on the tape recorder in the corner of the room. You clear your throat, inhaling slowly, holding the breath for a moment in your stomach before letting it go in a light, tentative note. 

“Can... an-y-bo-dy... find me-e-e-e... somebody to-o...” 

Eddie strums the last note on his guitar, making you smile. 

As you start up the first verse, Jeff and Gareth follow your lead, backing up your low, contemplative words with matching instrumentals. To your surprise, Eddie takes over the choral accompaniment, hitting each note as if he’s listened to the song a million times over; his voice compliments yours so well you sound make a symphony together, the vibration of your harmonies causing chills to rush through your body like an electric shock. 

“I get down on my knees and I start to pray ‘til the tears run down from my eyes!” 

Your confidence builds with the song, each note you sing becoming a little more soulful, a little more impassioned as the verse presses on. You lose yourself in the music, having always loved this song and how weightless it makes you feel. Your eyes are locked on Eddie, swaying in time with each strum of his pick across the guitar strings, consumed by the starstruck look in his eye and the expert movement of his ringed fingers. It’s like magic, how enchantingly beautiful you sound together. 

“I try and I try and I try-y-y! But e-e-e-ev’rybody wants to put me down; they say I’m goin’ crazy! They say I gotta lotta water in my brain; I got no common sense; I got nobody left to believe!” 

“YEAH! YEAH! YEAH! YE-EAH!” 

The final throes of the verse are shouted, Jeff and Gareth playing off your enthusiasm with as much excitement as if they were playing to a packed stadium. You bang your head with each beat, thrashing with their heavy rendition of the song, thoroughly enjoying every second. Your voices fade into the shredding wail of Eddie’s guitar, hammered out into an exquisite solo that leads into the final verse. 

You reach your favorite part of the song; when all goes silent, the slow climb up to the huge finale. Jeff starts you off, his powerful bass rumbling over the speakers. 

“Find, me, somebody to lo-ove...”

Then comes Gareth’s baritone, picking up the harmony in just the right spot. Eddie follows soon after in his achingly handsome tenor, and you fall in line behind him, uttering out the quiet pieces of the harmony that many miss in the chorus. 

“Me somebody, to, lo-ove...” 

Eddie’s voice breaks out of the din.

“Somebody!” 

You fire back, hitting the high note without flinching. 

“Somebody!” 

“Somebody!”

“Somebody!”

You shoot back and forth at each other, your higher voice countering Eddie’s lower one in playful symmetry, until you reach the end of the short duel. 

“Somebody find me somebody to love! Can anybody find me-e-e-e...?” 

The men stop playing, pausing with rapt attention on you, anticipating how you’ll drive through the song’s climax. You take a deep breath, entirely unafraid of what you’re about to do. 

“Somebody to-o-o... lo-o-o-o-o-o-o-ove!” 

The notes soar from your chest, deafening everything else in the room - hell, in the world, probably. Eddie is the first to cheer, bounding up and down in uncontained joy at just how powerful you are; the other men follow suit, picking up where they left off a few beats too late from being so swept up in your tidal wave of sound. 

Eddie finishes out the song gazing at you with dreamy, sparkling eyes, his chest fluttering as you look back at him and match his voice in perfect harmony. You really are a siren, and he’ll follow you to the depths of the sea if it means you’re the last sound ringing in his ears. 

All is calm as you follow Eddie out onto the street a few hours later, stepping into the late night cold of the bustling city. 

He turns to you, staring at you for a moment in giddy silence. Then, he lets out a celebratory shout as he wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the pavement and twirling you around. You laugh, your own arms falling around his neck, blushing furiously as he paints your face with kisses. 

“You. Are. Amazing!” Eddie cheers as he sets you back onto solid ground. “Oh my fucking god, that was incredible! You saved us! You beautiful, divine, ethereal goddess! My fucking heroine!” 

He captures you in another crushing hug, lips planting themselves firmly on your cheek once more. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” 

At first, you think he’s joking. But the breathless way he says it, the starry look in his wide, childlike eyes, the tender grip of his hand at your waist, all convey the truth. And you can’t lie to yourself - watching him play, hearing his voice entwined with yours, sharing the intimacy of song... you’re pretty certain you’re in love with him, too. 

“... Kiss me,” you whisper. 

“... What?” 

You giggle, his dumbstruck expression the most adorable thing you think you’ve ever seen. 

“Kiss me,” you repeat. “Baby, pull the string...” 

A smile curls across Eddie’s face, his grip on you tightening. 

“Did you... just quote Van Halen at me?” 

You nod. 

“Oh yeah,” he decides. “Comin’ in hot.” 

You giggle, smiling into the kiss as he presses his lips to yours, leaning his whole body into the movement until you’re flush against him. God, his lips are plush, and he tastes deliciously like his last cigarette, and his chest is hard and broad, and he looms above you like some sort of ivory tower, captivating and unmovable. You clutch at the lapels of his leather jacket, never wanting this kiss to end. 

Eddie hums softly as you pull apart, his eyes remaining closed for a moment as if he’s still savoring your lips. When he opens them, they’re lidded, lost within yours as he holds you in a lovers’ embrace on the corner of a busy street. 

“Let’s get you home,” he murmurs. “Then we can make some more music together.” 

🌹💀 get your eddie fix 💀🌹

[becca-e-barnes]

I need to get this out of my head so I'm going to make it everyone's problem 😘

I've been thinking so much recently about Bucky and Steve's cum? And how experiments could have affected their cum and their drive etc. I have two thots about this that I really love so I'll write one with Steve and the other with Bucky. ((Please do keep in mind that there is absolutely no scientific explanation for this, I'm just a horny bitch who is determined to make it plausible. I have an A-Level in biology but failed A-Level chemistry, science isn't my strong point xo))

And I'm in SUCH a Steve mood this weekend so he's getting my favourite thot

Because imagine Banner does some tests and they realise the serum turned Steve into the most fertile man alive. I've got absolutely no science based reason to explain why this might happen, I literally just want him to have super sperm.

But it's something that Bruce works with Steve on. There's no way for Bruce to curb Steve's fertility, nothing seems to work so instead, Bruce creates a fool-proof birth control pill for you. It's perfect, you take it every morning. In the beginning, you and Steve still use condoms too but after Bruce reassures you the pill is more than sufficient, you stop using them.

Anyway... The thot really starts on your wedding day. Maybe like a month before your wedding, Steve comes to you with a suggestion that you don't make love again until you're husband and wife so your wedding night can be that little bit more exciting. It's a pretty cute suggestion, especially since you know how needy he gets after two weeks without any so after a month, you know your wedding night is going to be intense.

But in the run up to your wedding, he can't keep his hands off you. Everything about you makes him so damn hard. He wakes up in the morning rock hard and he goes to sleep beside you just as hard as he was when he woke up but he puts it down to the fact that intimacy is off limits and his body is just struggling to cooperate.

He spends every free second cuddling you close, pulling you flush against him, making sure you feel every inch of his throbbing cock through his sweatpants. His chest is always so warm against you and the second he feels your touch, he's practically shaking with need.

"Don't know what's gotten into me, sweetheart. I can't think of anything other than burying myself in that sweet cunt and fucking us both silly. You know how good it's gonna feel when we're alone on our wedding night? Up in that big honeymoon suite with no interruptions or distractions. Gonna make my sweet little wife cum on every surface of that room." His voice is such a low groan and his cock is bobbing against your ass, throbbing with need.

"Fuck, it's only been a couple of weeks, Stevie. Are you even gonna last until our wedding night?" You tease, rubbing your ass against his length. He nods but the groan he lets out says otherwise.

On your actual wedding day, he's a little more settled. There's so much to think about, he's a little bit more distracted but every kiss is painfully passionate, lasting just a few seconds longer than anyone is comfortable to watch.

And by the time you get into the honeymoon suite, he's practically ready to tear your dress in two if it means getting at you quicker. He's got the skirt hitched up around your waist, you're frantically unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt, making out like you haven't seen each other in years.

"Fuck, baby I can't wait. Gotta get inside you. It's a-all I've been thinking about." Steve groans, his eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of the little lace garters around your thighs. He can't look, he knows he'll lose what little self control he has left.

"S-Stevie, wait. I-I stopped those pills." You whisper, holding his face in your hands. You didn't expect the pained moan that falls from his lips, his dick twitching and his balls aching because now he's even more desperate. "Wanted tonight to be j-just us. I'm sure it'll be fine for just one night. I want tonight to be about us. About how much we love each other." Your hands run slowly down his chest, still half encased in his shirt and he lets out another sound that's somewhere between a moan and a sob. Your new wedding ring shines in the dim, candlelit suite as your hands trail lower, reaching his belt buckle and undoing it.

"Y-you stopped the pills? God, I should... I should call Bruce. I don't know if that's safe." Steve whimpers, feeling your smaller hands trailing over his bulge. He swallows thickly, reaching for his phone as you undo the zipper, freeing his thick, leaking cock from his underwear, rubbing the tip over the soaked lace of your own little panties.

You hear the phone ring a few times, kissing Steve's neck as he sucks in deep breaths, desperately trying to hold off for another 5 minutes.

"B-Bruce? Yeah, it's Steve... I know it's my wedding night, believe me, I know, I'm j-just..." He trails off hearing Bruce offer his congratulations again and you can't help but smirk, lining Steve up at your entrance and sliding down on him.

His breath catches in his throat and he groans like he's never felt anything as perfect in his life before, regardless of whether Bruce is listening or not.

"Y-yeah, I just wanted to ask... Wh-what would happen if my new wife were to stop those pills?" He's keeping his eyes tightly shut because his resolve is non-existent. It would take so little for him to give in and pound you but he can't do that right now, not with Bruce on the phone.

He presses the button to put the phone on speaker and Bruce's voice booms through the device. "Well... She'd have a wave of fertility, that's for sure. Might last about 3 months. I imagine it would affect you though, you'll be able to sense the changes in her hormones. You'll probably get a little uncontrollable. The serum should make your body react to that kind of hyper-fertility. I don't know how to describe it, I guess you'd be kind of insatiable? So I wouldn't recommend your new wife stops those pills until you're ready to start family planning." Bruce is lost in his own little world, totally oblivious to the fact you're riding your husband. Steve is panting and moaning, running a hand through his own hair and he feels so sensitive, he thinks he could just cum like this.

"Guess there's no avoiding it. You're gonna make your little wife a mommy tonight, Stevie." You whisper, nibbling his ear and rolling your hips, moaning when he grips your waist and stuffs every last inch of his cock inside you.

"W-wait... Oh my God, you're at it already. Holy shit, go enjoy your night." Bruce gasps, absolutely horrified before hanging up as quickly as he can.

"I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you, Mrs Rogers. Fuck, what're people gonna think when we tell them you're pregnant already? Breedin' my sweet little wife on her wedding night because I just can't help myself." He grunts, pressing you both forward onto the floor.

He's fucking you with a kind of frantic need. It's sloppy and possessive and painfully sexy how neither of you are even undressed.

"Oh my G-God, Steve. I-... S-so good." You babble, feeling his teeth nipping at your neck. His hands feel like they're everywhere at once and his cock is slipping in and out of you so frantically, you think you've gone to Heaven.

"Knockin' you up tonight, Mrs Rogers. Puttin' a baby in your belly. Maybe I should keep you like that, all round and full of my babies. As soon as y'push one out, I'll give you another." One hand presses down on your lower tummy, making every slide into you that little bit more intense and it's not long before you're both trembling from the force of your first orgasms but not able to slow down in the slightest.

[cherrydreamer]

Ok but can you imagine Billy teaching his little AquaTots session or whatever, and one by one the kids get picked up by their moms (who usually just lounge around the poolside, pretending to be watching their little darlings but their eyes definitely spend more time locked on firm abs and red shorts instead.)

And ANYWAY, the kids all go. Except for Holly Wheeler. And Billy looks around but Karen is nowhere in sight which is... unusual, to say the least. So they wait five minutes, and then a few more, and Billy fakes a smile and is all 'I bet mommy's just in the bathroom, why don't you show me some of those dippy dolphin dives while we wait?' and then he's signalling to Heather to go check in the women's locker room and ask around, the whole time trying so hard to keep Holly distracted, to keep a smile on his face, to keep calm.

And Heather finally gets word that Karen got called away, some situation with Mike, but that she's sending someone to come get Holly. So Billy waits, letting Holly play with all the floats and the inflatables and the fun toys that the bigger children normally snatch from the little ones straight away.

But then ten minutes pass, and another ten, and there's still no sign of anyone coming, and Holly can't be distracted anymore. She won't let anyone else come near her, none of the other Moms or even lovely, kind and smiley Heather. Instead she's clinging desperately to Billy and asking where mommy is, asking when she's coming back. And oh, that gets to Billy. He remembers saying those words.

So Billy gets a now shivery and wobbly-lipped Holly out of the pool and wraps her in his lifeguard blanket and sits on a lounger with her perched on his lap, just watching and waiting and trying to calm her down when she cries by telling her the silliest stories he can, making up things like 'did you know that we open the pool up super late at night so the Hawkins mermaids can come and have a swim, because it's such a long way to the beach' and 'yeah, of course I know a mermaid, who do you think teaches them how to swim?'

And he watches her eyes get big and wide with every tall tale, until eventually they start to droop and close instead, and she sticks her thumb in her mouth and just leans against him.

But despite how tired she clearly is, her eyes keep flicking open, looking to the pool's entrance and the locker room door and all the places her mom should be. And Billy's running out of stories. So he starts singing. Soft and low, under his breath, tucking Holly under his chin and rocking her slightly as he murmurs all those soft, sunshiney songs his mom used to sing to him. Beach Boys and The Beatles and Fleetwood Mac of course. And Holly finally drifts off to sleep.

And eventually, eventually, a very flustered and red faced Steve Harrington bursts through the pool gates, apology dying on his lips as he takes in the sight of Holly Wheeler curled up on Billy's bare chest, her hand clutching at one of his ringlets, as Billy murmurs the lyrics of Little Surfer Girl.

And Billy waits until Steve's right there in front of him before he hisses out,

"Bout fucking time, Harrington. Damn brat's been howling for hours."

But Steve raises a sceptical eyebrow, looking down at the now deeply asleep Holly, and even Billy has to smile then, rising up out of the chair as carefully as he can so as not to jostle Holly awake, "well lead the way then, not gonna wake her up if I can help it."

(and MAYBE he keeps hold of her in the car because Steve's Beemer doesn't have a car seat and he can't just hand one of his kids over to a strange man even if that strange man is Steve, so Billy has to come along and make sure she gets to Karen safely. It's part of his job y'see? And then of COURSE Steve needs to drive Billy back to the pool cause Billy left his car there and maybe Steve puts a Beach Boys tape in and maybe they take the scenic route back...)

[p-antomime]

dawn addiction.

— minors don't interact.

— wc: 3,3K

content + warnings: 18+, including: car sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, public sex (kinda of), unprotected sex, tummy bulge, pet names (dabi actually calls the reader "princess"), virginity loss (only mentioned), i bit of fluff bye

pairings: no quirk!dabi x fem!reader

— song: Press Your Number; by TAEMIN

After waking up alone one dark night without you sleeping next to him in the spacious bed placed in the middle of his room, Dabi catches himself thinking about you and feeling strange without having your warm body next to his in the bed. Thinking about Y/N was becoming a vicious habit for him and it was the kind of addiction that the more he fed, the more it seemed to swallow his sanity. However, he didn't blame you for not wanting to be seen or related to him, in a small town like the two of you Touya was the delinquent that people avoided interacting with lest they be excluded from that closed society.

He stretches to the side in order to get his own phone from the small table placed on the side of his bed and finds himself standing there for a few seconds feeling the smell of your body that permeated the pillow next to him. After taking a deep inhale, Dabi unlocks his cell phone to try to call you, but there is no answer, after all, it was past 1:00 AM in the dawn and Y/N was now probably lying in her own bed in her house trying to sleep.

The dark haired man lets out an impatient grunt before dropping the cell phone on the bed. He was deeply rooted in you and, because of that, feeling like an insane madman who was insisting on something that couldn't be his. But what could he do but fall in love with you after kissing your lips countless times and spreading your legs dangerously wide for him before claiming your virginity as his?

And the end of that night, just like all the others where you would finish fucking and you would shamefully put on your clothes to go home, would be filled by him masturbating with the thought of your naked body running through his mind.

Touya could feel the warm temperature of yours with little mental effort with his own fingers and would cling to the fading memories of the few non-sexual moments you had shared over the past few months.

That night, Dabi slept when the sun was already up, but Y/N, on the other hand, didn't even sleep a wink. She couldn't even take a lousy nap, because her eyes were glued to her cell phone screen waiting to see if he would call her again because on the first call of the night she wasn't brave enough to answer knowing that her parents were half a wall away. A coward? Yes, that's what she was. But there was a perfect daughter demeanor that she needed to maintain, especially if she wanted to continue to nurture her father's idea of letting her start studying at a university in the metropolitan area of the country.

Y/N would turn twenty a week from today — and if her father's promise to give you a car came true, her plan was already halfway done — and she didn't want to be stuck in that small, rural town forever. She had big dreams, and, ironically, in most of them the fulminating image of Dabi was present beside her. What if she was the only one there who wanted to leave that life? What if he didn't want to leave with her? But more importantly, at what point had their relationship become so deep?

It was now 7 o'clock in the morning, which meant that in about two hours your parents would wake up to go to work. You took a deep breath and reached out to grab the cell phone lying next to you on the bed, and then began to type a message as brief and vague as possible to your lover:

"Pack up all your stuff by next Friday. Take everything that you think is important or of value to you, pack it up, and meet me on the other side of the bridge that leads to the avenue out of town, the side that has the rusty 'Welcome to our town' sign. At two o'clock in the morning. No delays. And please try not to draw too much attention, wear the most decent, neutral clothes you have in your closet. Oh, and bring documents."

And all week long you could barely look your parents in the face without feeling guilty for wanting to break free from their protective arms, but you just couldn't take it anymore. You hated that small town, and you also hated being forced to go to church every Thursday and Sunday with your mother because she said that God would "bless you with all your dreams come true," so why didn't he just indirectly help you leave that town behind? Literally, the only thing holding you back in that town was Touya and you wanted to take him with you outside the boundaries of that town that looked more like a village forgotten by the rest of the world.

Y/N's favorite place to be was Dabi's lips, and even then, the girl's replies to him by messages and short calls that didn't last more than 5 minutes started to decrease drastically. The useless monologues continue to increase inside her mind. Until the Thursday before her birthday when Y/N was about to fall asleep after standing for almost 2 hours listening to the local church mass hoping that her mother would not notice her slouching and irritable posture, suddenly a sound of something banging against her bedroom window was heard. And initially she didn't bother to get up to find out what had caused the noise, until she heard it twice more and frowned as she got out of bed after seeing that it was almost two o'clock in the dawn.

You drew the curtains in front of the window, opened it and stuck your head out, looking down and suddenly feeling your cheeks heat up violently. And there was Touya looking at you with a look of sorrow and animosity. He pointed in the direction of the hidden backyard behind your house where the two of you in the beginning of your relationship used to hide just to spend some time together or have a make-out session that ended up leaving both of you sexually frustrated because neither of you had the courage to have sex in that place where anyone could see you if you made too much noise. However, Dabi was the devil in your life worth sinning for.

— What the fuck are you doing here? — Y/N asked almost desperately as she felt Touya wrap one of his arms around her waist to glue their bodies together.

— What? Can't a man miss his beloved and want to go see her? — He asked, holding her face with his free hand. — You barely answer my messages.

— I told you we were going to meet tomorrow, on Friday. — You rested your hands on his chest to move away just enough to look him in the face.

— And about that, you're killing me with curiosity, princess. What are you thinking of doing tomorrow? It's your birthday. — Dabi commented, running his thumb along her bottom lip affectionately.

— I-I know. — You replied, looking away. — I was planning on... going out... with you. — You just didn't say it was going to be an out-of-town trip with no intention of coming back.

— What are you hiding? — He asked, leaning down to place a simple, tender kiss on her lips.

— Would you follow me wherever I went?

— I would follow you to the ends of hell if you asked me to. — Dabi answered, and instinctively you grabbed his face to place your lips back on theirs in a kiss deeper than the one before in a frenzy of feeling.

— Then do it. — Y/N whispered against his lips staring into his beautiful turquoise eyes. — For my birthday the only thing I ask from you is to always be by my side, I don't need material gifts.

Seconds after you finished speaking, the sound of footsteps inside your house could be heard, and a shiver ran down your back as your hands desperately pushed Dabi away in the direction of the very door through which the two of you had entered the yard.

— Damn, not even at dawn I... — Touya began to complain as he walked briskly away from you and disappeared into the darkness of the night to return to his house.

— Shhh, shut up. I'll see you at dawn. Two o'clock, don't forget. — You whispered loud enough for him to hear you as you turned back and faced the back door of your house slowly opening to reveal to you the sleepy figure of your father.

— Honey? — He asked, and you gasped as if you were distracted by something while you could hear your heart beating rapidly. — What are you doing out here? It's late? and cold, you might catch cold.

— I... — Y/N looked around just to make sure there was no more sign of Dabi. — I heard a noise here when I went down to get some water and just wanted to come down and see if it wasn't an animal or something. But it was nothing, I guess it was just my mind playing with me. — It was a good enough lie considering that it wasn't hard to wake up during the night to go to the bathroom or eat something from the fridge.

And then your father called you inside and you promptly went. As the day went on, not even your father's birthday present with the car seemed to quell the anxiety inside you of going to see Dabi in the middle of the night with no intention of coming home. Y/N packed three backpacks and after watching your parents go to sleep, put them all on the back seats of the car after grabbing the keys that your father had left on top of the coffee table in the living room, and also grabbing some money from your father's safe that was in a secluded room in the residence.

After writing a short, albeit long, letter explaining to her mother that she was going to the metropolitan city — but without saying with whom — to try a new life there and that you would be fine because "there were friends waiting for you there" — which was a big lie, but she didn't need to know that — Y/N put on a sweatshirt and ran out of her now former home. Remembering all the various driving lessons her mother had made her take last year, you put the key in the ignition and made sure that your license and other documents were in one of the pockets of the three backpacks on the back seats. And you set off across town to reach the end of the bridge that served as both a gateway into and out of the city, parking exactly beside the welcome sign.

After about fifteen minutes, you watched a silhouette approach through the darkness, and if you didn't recognize the blue-toned sweatshirt with white details that Dabi usually wore when he didn't want to attract attention, you would surely lock yourself inside your car for fear that it was some sexual predator. Before he could finish approaching you at the agreed upon spot and open his mouth to vocalize something, you ran toward him to jump into his arms and kiss him fervently like you hadn't done in almost two weeks. He didn't fight your grip and responded to your display of affection instantly, he missed your touch more than he would admit.

— Where are we going? — He asked, analyzing her new car as he watched you open the back seat door and gestured for him to put his own belongings inside.

— To the big city. — You answered unlocking the door next to the driver's seat after hearing Dabi choke on his own saliva looking at you as if he hadn't heard you correctly. — Come in. — Your head swiveled inward.

— What do you mean we're going to the city? What about your parents? You have a loving family here, I have nothing to lose, but you? — Dabi put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

— I want to go to the city. I want to live with you. — Y/N replied feeling her cheeks heat up and looking at him expectantly. — You said you would go anywhere with me, to the ends of hell.

— And I will, but this decision... — You interrupted him.

— Please. For once in my life I want to do things my way. Without having to hide you from anyone, without having anyone judge me for being with you. Let's go to another city, live together, we'll figure it out when we get there. — You put one hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently.

Touya took a few seconds to process the information and after looking from you to the car, he said:

— Where are the keys? — You waved them in front of him, flashing an amused smile. — So get in the car, doll face. I'll drive. — He gave you a light slap on the butt before pushing you toward the driver's seat, getting into the car and putting the key in the ignition. — How long until we reach the city?

— About six hours, we can get there in the morning.

— Great. — Dabi started the car and began to drive along the deserted road while resting one hand on Y/N’s covered thigh and occasionally giving the area a gentle squeeze.

After about an hour of driving, you became distracted by fiddling with your cell phone until you noticed his long fingers sneaking up and over your thighs until they came dangerously close to Dabi's real intended destination. Her eyes cast a serious countenance at him as if she were silently saying: "Don't you dare" and in response his lips parted in a defiant smile as his hand on the steering wheel slowed and eventually brought the car to a full stop.

— C'mon. It's been almost two weeks since we had sex. — He said, lowering the two seats you were sitting on and pulling you to sit on his lap with your back against the steering wheel.

— And the best place you could find to have sex was inside my new car? — Despite your complaint, you didn't try to restrain his hands from reaching into your sweatshirt to grab and squeeze your breasts, nor did you object to the feeling of his knee pressing against the middle of your legs.

Touya lifts your arms and pulls up your sweatshirt and then concentrates on removing the simple tank top and lacy bra you were wearing, shortly after which he leans over your body to take one of your nipples between his lips to begin stimulating it. In response, you rub your hips against his leg as your hands grip his dark hair as a way to relieve the growing tension settling through your body. His hands slowly slid down your back, past your waist and into your pants, while his right hand also invaded your panties to run his fingers over your pussy lips and his left was busy opening the buttons of that garment.

Y/N put her hands on the hem of his sweatshirt, pulled it up, and was not surprised to see him with nothing underneath. Strangely enough, his skin was naturally too warm and it was not hard to believe that even with the low temperature outside the car he would only need a casual sweatshirt to not feel cold. And that was exactly why you liked so much to run your hands along his body exploring him calmly to make your touches last longer.

Dabi turned his body so that you were lying on the passenger seat and stood over you with a smug smile as his hands dug in and squeezed the skin of your legs after he finished getting rid of your pants with some difficulty because of the tight space.

— Keep your legs open for me or I won't let you cum, princess. — He whispered, sliding his mouth down her torso to her pelvis and pulling her hips up as high as possible before burying his fingers inside her pussy and enveloping her clit with his lips.

Y/N's hands gripped Touya's now messy hair and pushed his face against her hip in search of more of that mind-blowing pleasure she had missed for the few days she had been avoiding him. Suddenly the car became extremely hot, almost to the point where you both felt suffocated and ironically neither of you cared about that, not when Dabi was curving his fingers and sucking your clit in the way that always made your vision cloud and too loud moans escape your mouth. But, you didn't want to cum in his mouth, so your hands moved his face away from your hips and pulled his body up.

— Please, Touya, I need you inside me. — Her voice was slurred by her rapid breathing.

Dabi didn't need you to say anything else, he just stepped back briefly to get rid of the clothes that were still covering his lower body, adjusted your hips to his, leaned on the car door behind your body and guided his cock to the entrance of your pussy. As you felt him fill and enlarge you completely with his tip rubbing against your cervix, you groaned, leaning on his shoulders to face him and watching the small rise against your belly that was always present when that black haired man penetrated you.

Touya slid one hand down your neck and closed his fingers around your neck applying just the right amount of pressure to make waves of pleasure run through your body and not to hurt you. He began to move and Y/N passed her legs around his waist moving her body downward every time Dabi moved upward, occasionally he would take her lips on his just because he liked to feel her moans against his mouth and the rhythm of his hips gradually began to get harder and faster.

— I should cum inside you, hmm? — Touya asked, keeping eye contact with you every moment he thrust inside you again and making you clench your walls around his length without you even realizing it. — Damn, I love you so much, you have no idea what I would do for you.

— So show me. — You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was still resting on your neck and squeezed it without too much force. — Make me your girl.

With a smug and satisfied smile, he continued thrusting himself against her insides to the point where her hips began to ache just seconds before she reached her own orgasm with her nails digging into the skin of Touya's arm and her back arching as spasms coursed through her entire body at a high rate of speed. He gave a few thrusts against your pussy until the white streaks of cum painted your insides and slowly pulled out of you, wanting to prolong the feeling of having you squeeze him some more.

Dabi let his tired body fall back against the driver's seat and concentrated on stabilizing his breathing while you did the same as you looked up at him with the following thought running through your mind: "This is definitely the man I want to be with forever". The thought made your cheeks burn and it didn't go unnoticed by him:

— What? — One of his eyebrows arched.

— Nothing, I was just thinking... about you, about us. — You answered, starting to look around the car for your clothes, and an amused laugh came from Touya's mouth, who looked at you tenderly.

— So I'm always on your mind?

— More than you think, yes. — Y/N answered, leaning over to place a tender kiss at the corner of his lips. — Now get ready, get your clothes, let's get back on the road.

— Can we fuck again before we get to the city again? — Her eyes narrowed in disapproval.

— Shut up, you idiot.

[harrypotterwholock]

A tough hunt

Pairing: Sam Winchester x petite!reader

Requested by: @sizekinkshawty

Warnings: smut

Just having returned from your hunt, you get yourself a drink from the fridge and let yourself fall down on the king-size bed. Usually, Sam and Dean would share a room, and you'd stay in a separate one, but this time Dean did some undercover work and stood at a different motel.

Sam hopped into the shower as soon as he closed the door after him and left you to some well-needed rest. It had been a straining hunt, with a demon cornering you alone in a corner, defenceless, as you had given Dean your knife. The daemon was just about to let some hellhounds loose when Sam, as usual, came to your rescue. With a stab of Ruby's knife, the demon was killed, and you fell into his broad chest. After regaining your balance, you looked up into his green eyes and immediately got flustered because of the ways he towered over you. Even though you tried to hide it as best as you can, you couldn't help but blush every time you made physical contact with him. From the moment the two of you met for the first time, you had a big crush on him.

Your train of thought was abruptly stopped when you heard the dripping of the shower ceased.

Remembering you'd promised Sam to cook up some dinner, you stood up, beginning to collect the ingredients from the cabinets.

As you were pretty petite, you struggled to get some of the cans from the top cabinets, even when standing on your toes. You stretched out your arm as far as you could but nevertheless only managed to touch it with your fingertips.

"Need some help with that?" you heard Sam chuckle behind you.

He stood behind you, reaching over you to get you the can. You turned around, squirming when you saw that he wore nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

"There you go ", he said, handing you the soup and winking at you.

"Th-thanks", you stuttered awkwardly, taking it and quickly looking down at your feet to distract yourself from the heat that was rising between your legs.

"What's the matter y/n? Why won't you look at me?" he asked confusedly.

You felt yourself blush and shrank under his demanding gaze.

"It's really nothing, Sam. I'm just a little tired from the hunt and everything", you explained, trying to laugh it off.

"Come on, you've been acting weird for weeks. Just tell me, it can't be that bad", he countered.

"N-no, you don't understand. Just let it be, please.", you recoiled.

With horror, you saw that your words only made him more determined to get after your secret.

Grabbing your face, he forced you to look. Almost being lifted off your feet, you grabbed his arm and whimpered.

"I ask you again y/n", he demanded in an aggravated voice. "Why are you acting so strange?".

You twisted under his stern gaze and finally submitted.

"Fine, I'll tell you, but don't laugh at me! Well... I have a huge crush on you, as well as a size kink which really isn't helping..."

He smirked and loosened the grip on your face.

"Why didn't you just tell me sooner y/n. I could've helped you with that", he told you, moving closer and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Flustered, you stuttered: "Really, Sam? I would've never imagined that you reciprocate my feelings."

"Well, you see, just like you have a thing for tall men, I have a preference for petite women myself. ", he flirted with you, playing with the hem of your shirt.

Melting into his embrace, you began to trail down the ridge between his back muscles, and a gasp escaped from his lips.

"Oh y/n, I'll show you just how big I really am", he growled, picking you up effortlessly and throwing you onto the bed.

The sight of him towering over you, only dressed in his towel, sent new waves of arousal down your middle.

Setting himself down on the bed, he began to undress you, taking in the sight of you. He trailed his hands down your body, starting at your breasts, softly kneading them and circling your nipples with his tongue.

Soft moans escaped from you but were immediately stifled from the firm grip of his hand around your throat.

You tried to take the towel from his hips, desperate to see him in all his glory, but he quickly snatched your wrists and forced them over your head.

"Why so inpatient y/n? I think you'll be able to wait a little longer", he laughed.

Looking deep into your eyes, he kissed his way down your stomach, stopping between your legs.

Teasing you, he began licking over your damn, intentionally sparing out your clit. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more teasing from him, he began to circle your clit, sucking at it in between.

Squirming under his mouth, you grabbed his hair and forced his face harder onto your middle with your legs, which were tightly wrapped around his head.

As you felt yourself getting nearer to your release, you moaned out loudly: "Fuck Sam, please don't stop now!"

Not ready to let you climax just yet, Sam stopped and removed his towel.

Shocked, you looked at him. You had expected him to be big, but never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined him to be THAT big. Internally, you prepared yourself for what was to come.

After putting on a condom, he set himself between your legs and looked expectantly at you. Silently you nodded at him and bit your lip, anticipating the pain.

Slowly, he began to stretch you out, pressing his hand on your mouth to silence your groans.

Inch after inch, he slipped deeper into you until he was in all the way, with only half of his length.

At a torturingly slow pace, he began to move in and out of you, rubbing your clit with his other hand.

Picking up the pace, he began to thrust faster into you, steadying himself on the headpiece of the bed.

As you both felt your breath coming quicker, Sam picked you up again and pushed you on your knees, taking you from behind.

With the smacking of his hips against your buttcheeks filling in the silence of the night, you felt yourself coming close to climax again.

"Oh yes, Sam, please fuck me harder!" you cried out, and this time Sam didn't stop you from climaxing. Just as you tensed around him, you felt him release in you, and he pulled out.

Exhaustedly, he fell down on the bed beside you, kissing you on the forehead and taking you into his strong arms.

"That was amazing!" you both said in unison and began to grin.

Sam put out the light, and you slipped into your well-deserved sleep, already knowing you'd be sore the next day.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Californian Dream (Pt. 07 of 11)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.6 K

Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.

Warnings: Light violence

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Broken

“Listen, listen...” Cupping your cheeks and drying off some tears, he looks into your eyes. “I'm all sweaty and disgusting. Let me shower and then we'll talk, alright?”

Forcing yourself to nod, you look down, suddenly ashamed of how you were clinging onto to him. “Alright.”

“Ok.” He hesitates a little before heading to the bathroom.

With both hands on your head, you pace around the living room, the image of Alice's hands burning through your mind. Why did they do that? Was it some kind of punishment for her trying to run? Or were they sending a message? Or are they just that cruel? What will happen to the others? To the last one, if the police don't find them and if the private investigators fail?

Turning the damn TV off, you messily wipe the tears away, going to the bedroom, sitting on the bed and waiting for Billy to come out. You just want him. You feel safe with him, and if this makes things weird after, you'll apologize.

This time, when the door opens, you manage to hold back, pushing back the urge to jump into his arms again. Billy looks sad, only breaking eye contact to put his shirt on. “Come here.” And that's all it takes for you to run into his embrace again, more tears taking the place of the ones you dried off, then fighting for more space. “I'm sorry.”

You can't say anything. There are no words to be said now. So you just cry, arms around his midsection as you let your heart out. It's a mix of fear and desperation. It could've been you if Billy wasn't there to sneak you out. You wish you could see Alice, but at the same time, you don't want to. Seeing her hands on the TV was bad enough. You can't even start to think about the trauma she went through. This whole thing can't be happening, it feels like a nightmare.

“Come. Lie down to rest a little.” Billy guides you to the bed, and you only move because of him. You barely feel your legs. When you lie down, and he moves to stand up, you hold his arm.

It's not the time to blush or feel nervous. Or to think about what it means. You want him, you need him here. With you. “Stay, please.” Begging, you move aside when he nods. Billy lies down on his back, facing the ceiling. You hold his arm, just so you're touching him somehow, but it's not enough. The tears keep coming, your mind keeps imagining what else those people, your friends, the people who you grew up with, are suffering right now. “B-Billy...” Your voice cracks, and you squeeze his bicep a little.

“What, princess?”

“I'm sorry...” You whisper, already moving closer to him.

Billy's eyes meet yours, a worried and confused expression on his face. “What for?”

You don't say anything, you just move closer to him, laying your head on his chest. A breath escapes your lips when you feel his arms around you, grounding, protecting you. Now more than ever, you understand what Billy did for you when he sneaked you out of the gala. It could've been you with chopped fingers, or going through something much worse.

“You make me feel safe.” You mutter, eyes closed shut. His heartbeat is calming, and slowly, your breathing starts to slow down until it's steady again. Billy has a hand around your waist and the other comes to caress your cheek every once in a while. But the most important thing is that he doesn't let go.

You're not sure how long you stay there, but the only thing keeping you from falling asleep is the pain in your stomach. You're hungry, and that's the only thing that makes you move, sitting up straight. Moving the hair away from your face, you look down at Billy. “I'm sorry for... Doing this, but I just needed to... I needed you.”

“It's alright.” He sits up too, a hand softly rubbing your arm. “Are you feeling better?”

“Not really.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair. “But I'll make us something to eat. We're both hungry and it'll distract me.”

“We can do it together, what do you think?” He asks as he stands up, offering you his hand. You take it, letting him guide you to the kitchen.

Billy keeps the small talk as you cook and then eat, even succeeding to take a few laughs from you. When you're done with the dishes, you go back to the kitchen table to share an ice cream you bought yesterday. Seated side by side, you have a little fight every time you happen to move to get some ice cream at the same time, slapping each other's hand with the spoon.

“Do you wanna talk about...” Billy speaks low, careful. But it's ok. You'll have to talk about it eventually.

“They cut off three fingers from her right hand and the index finger from the left.” Your voice is weak, and you look down at your empty spoon. “They showed it... I mean, it was covered by white bandages but... It was obvious, and there was some blood on it and I just can't understand why they'd do something like that.”

“They don't need a reason.” Billy caresses your cheek, his finger running through the line of your jaw. “I know you feel awful but I can't help but feel relieved that's not you.” His stare is intense but kind. “Even before, I'd hate to see you in her place.”

“Even before?”

“Before I knew you better. Now... It would kill me if anything happened to you.”

“I don't think I wanna go back home.” It comes out suddenly, without considering what it truly means. But it's the truth. The truth comes to a lot easier to you now that you're not constantly trying to hide what you think or feel. “I know it's mean to think about myself now but I don't think I can go back. I can't keep doing that. I can't waste the summer with those stupid events, and I can't go back into studying law, I can't...” You stand up, pacing around with both hands in your head. “I can't keep pretending those people are my friends and I can't keep pretending that person is who I am.”

“What is your plan, then?”

This makes you turn around to look at Billy again. He hasn't moved, the ice cream long was forgotten and his attention on you. “Won't you even try to make me change my mind?”

“No.” He stands up, coming closer until you're face to face with him. Billy seems sad, a deep breath leaving his chest. ”We are responsible for our happiness. That's why I left Hawkins and if you want to leave California–”

“It's not about California.” Cutting him short, you sigh. “I love California. I just want... This.” You gesture at the apartment. “Having a place that I like, that doesn't fit a hundred people. Studying something that I care about, going to the places I wanna go, making real friends.” Since Billy started taking you to some parties, you've been growing close to Stacy, Anne, and Jimmy, Billy's friends who are now becoming your friends too. You feel more comfortable with them than you ever felt with the people you grew up with.

“Well, you don't have to think about it now. When you have to make a decision, you'll know what to do.”

“Yeah... I think I will.” You should look away, but his eyes... You feel like you could sink, and drown, and die. Slowly, you stand on your toes, trying to feel if Billy will step back. You don't even know what you're doing, it's almost involuntary, you're just chasing his lips.

But instead of moving away, he meets you halfway bending down a little to connect his lips to yours. Your arms quickly embrace his neck and you end the final distance between your bodies. You don't wanna think too much. Whenever you kiss Billy, you don't wanna think about anything. You just wanna feel. And right now, more than ever, you need him, this close, the taste of his lips so addictive, making you a little mad when you need to pull away to breathe. But you don't move away, you stay there, foreheads touching. With your eyes tightly shut, you caress his cheek, fingers tracing his jawline.

He's just about to say something when the phone starts ringing, and very reluctantly, you step back, gesturing for him to answer it. When he turns his back at you, you immediately touch your lips, smiling a little. As stupid, as insane as it is, Billy is the only guy you want to kiss. He's the only one you'd ever want to kiss. “What's up?” He says. “No, I can't go today... Because I have something more important to do here. I'll go on Friday. Bye.”

You're just about to ask him what was that about when you remember he was supposed to go to the gym today. “Hey, you can go. I'll be alright.” No, you won't. But still, you don't want him to stay if he wants to be somewhere else.

“Completely out of question.” He walks to you again, reaching out his hand. “Come. Let's watch some nice movies or something.”

And so it happens. There's this random movie going on, and you try to focus on it the best you can. On the couch, Billy holds you all the time, and it doesn't take much until your head is on his shoulder. But the happenings of the day got the best of you, and soon enough you feel yourself tired, eyelids heavy with sleep, falling close.

When you open your eyes again, you're in bed, with the morning light piercing through the light fabric of the curtains. You have the blankets all around you, and for some reason, when you get up, you feel cold. Maybe it's the air-conditioning, but Billy likes this temperature, and you haven't had a problem with it until now. So you just decide to put on a cardigan instead.

It's a war against yourself not to watch the news. You want to know how's Alice, but you don't want to see another take of her mutilated hand. Or hear what the reporters are saying about it. So you basically pace around the house, doing nothing, but trying to keep busy. For some reason, you're terribly tired, exhausted even, struggling to focus on this afternoon talk show instead of changing the channel.

The gang probably already let out the next rescue. Will it be the same? No, it's probably more. Who will be the next one they'll release? How many fingers will they still have left? Will they have both arms? Or all of their teeth? The thoughts won't leave you alone, and the talk show sucks, so you stand up, moving to the window and setting your eyes on the ocean out there, the horizon on a light shade of blue as the sun sets.

The noise of the door opening makes you look over your shoulder. A wave of relief washes over you when you see Billy, and you're just about to run to him when he mutters a harsh ‘hello’, moving straight to his room. Stopping in your tracks, you try to process it. Turning the damn TV off, you brace yourself as you go back to the couch, waiting for him to come back. But it takes longer than normal, and when you finally hear the bedroom door opening, your eyes follow him when he moves to the kitchen space. And that's when you notice you're starving.

Pushing yourself up, pulling the heavier coat you have on now even closer to your body, you walk over to the table. “Billy, can you make something to eat, I'm really–”

“You've been in here all day and you couldn't even cook something?” He suddenly snaps, both hands on the sink and his back turned at you. The roughness of his voice gets you by surprise, startling you.

“I–”

“I have been out all day, working my damn ass off, and now I have to come home and make dinner too? Don't you think I might be exhausted?” Without looking at you, he opens the fridge, looking for something, but after a few seconds, he violently pushes the door shut.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Bursting out, you try not to let the tears roll down. You're overwhelmed right now, and the last thing you need is Billy freaking out for whatever reasons.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” He finally turns to face you, slamming his hands on the table. “You have no idea what it is to deal with your kind. I clean your pools, I fix and wash your fancy cars, I change the lamps from your chandeliers, and I'm not even treated nicely. I'm the staff, the working class, a freaking nobody who's only useful to put together broken things, and then I can be kicked out.”

“My kind?” Raising your voice, a humorless laugh escapes your lips. “Haven't you said something about me being the only owner who ever offered some help?”

The laughter that escapes his lips surprises you. It's mean and cruel, so unlike everything you have seen of Billy. “And how exactly would you help me? Raking leaves?”

“Yeah, I–”

“When you're skimming the pools, it's cute. You're a good soul helping the unfortunate. When I'm skimming the pools, I'm the unfortunate, who couldn't find a better job other than serving the upper class.” He's yelling, his eyes full of anger. This isn't Billy. Something happened, but right now, you don't care. You don't think it's fair to throw it on you, but maybe he's right. Maybe coming here was a mistake. “And that's exactly what I'm doing here, in my own house. Or have you forgotten what your dad said, huh? That I'll be paid after those assholes are caught so I gotta make sure all your needs are attended? So yes, I guess I'll make you something to eat. I wouldn't dream of letting you do it yourself, ma'am.”

“This good soul will be leaving your apartment tomorrow morning.” You mutter, turning on your heels and heading to the bedroom. It's his turn with the bed, but you don't care. If that's how Billy sees you, this is who you'll be. The mean, rich kid you were raised to be. You push the door closed so violently that the loud bang startles you, a hand coming to your heart. Locking yourself inside, you climb into the bed, hiding your face in the pillow.

After all this time, you can't believe that's what Billy thinks of you. After opening your heart to him, saying things you haven't even admitted to yourself before, he still sees you as one of those people. Maybe this was a huge mistake. Maybe letting Billy get so close was a mistake. Maybe kissing him... That was the worst part. You never thought you'd want that with anyone, but he came and lit up this spark in you. Now, it's over, and you're heart is broken. Tomorrow you'll either find a place or just check if Anne or Stacy can let you crash at their place for a while. But you can't stay here. Whatever you thought you and Billy could become... It's over.

×

@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon @clockworkballerina @infinitelycharmed23 @lilred91

[notemily]

The Witcher episode 5:

Oh yay! A young man with a collection of body parts! There's no way this can go horribly wrong.

"The White Flame made me who I am." That sounds like some bad news.

Doppler is now Mousesack. And Mousesack is... dead?

"You don't know what she is." That was the question at the end of last episode too.

Yennefer goes to see a man with a million hourglasses. He wants more money from her, so she sets up a shingle in town. This angers some dude.

Ciri is a girl with the powers of a weapon. Like when she uses scream power? Huh. She did open a whole chasm in the earth that one time.

"The sword of destiny has two edges." Is one of them serrated? That way you can cut bread.

"What is time, anyway?" My thoughts exactly, Jaskier. I so desperately want to Google "Witcher timeline" but I will be SO spoiled if I do that.

Geralt can't sleep. He wants a djinn.

Geralt says Jaskier's singing is like a fillingless pie. Oh, it's not that bad!

They try to free a djinn from a bottle so Geralt can sleep. Jaskier immediately starts wishing for ridiculous things but before he can get a third wish out he stops being able to breathe. Uh oh.

Jaskier coughs and vomits blood. That's not good! They take him to an elf doctor.

His throat was attacked? But he needs his throat for the singing! Noooo!

The elf says there is one (1) mage in town, and that mage is imprisoned in the mayor's house. There's no way this can go horribly wrong.

Yennefer wants a cure... For what? Her infertility? I don't think that one's coming back dude. Your uterus was yeeterus.

Teal Witch, who is still wearing teal, offers Yennefer a teaching position to shape the next generation. She is not interested.

Dude at the mayor's house says "money opens all doors," so Geralt hits him in the face with his money bag and is like "yes it does." Lol

There's an orgy happening in the mayor's house! But like there's fog everywhere, so I have no idea if any of these people are real. Yennefer is real, though. They meet at last!

Poor Jaskier can't even enjoy the orgy, he's barely breathing.

"Just a friend, I hope?" Are you asking if they're dating? Yennefer, are you hitting on Geralt?

Geralt offers to indulge her curiosity all night long, as long as they can help Jaskier, like, now. It's kind of urgent.

Yennefer says the safeword that ends the orgy, and everyone looks embarrassed and leaves. Hee. She helps Jaskier and tells Geralt he stinks and needs a bath.

"Go ahead, ask about them. Everyone does." Meaning his scars. "Everyone else is boring." She decides to get naked and join the bath instead.

Geralt guesses that Yennefer had some "ailment" before and that her childhood was miserable.

"Do you doubt my capabilities?" "No, just your intentions." He is correct to doubt them.

Now Geralt is getting distracted by the smell of lilacs and gooseberries. And Yennefer is kissing on him. He sleeps! Well, I guess that's the nap he's been wanting. It's also apparently a trap.

When he wakes up, Elf Doctor tells him he's been on a rampage, doing Yennefer's bidding. Elf Doctor tried to stop him but they assumed he was there to help, I guess because of anti-elf racism?

"I just remembered, I left my... cat... on the... stove..." Hee hee hee.

"Toss a coin to your Witcher, oh valley of PENIS" This episode has some great lines.

Geralt wishes that the dude torturing him would burst, and he does. He's the one with the wishes!

"She wants to be the vessel." Well, in a manner of speaking. She wants a babby. It's interesting that the amphora she draws on herself looks a lot like a uterus.

"Dammit Yennefer, tell me what you want!" "I WANT EVERYTHING!" I think there's a loophole there where you can't wish for "everything."

Geralt wishes for something, and we aren't allowed to hear what it is. The whole damn roof collapses. Yennefer portals them out of there.

"This can't be happening." By Talos?

Elf Doctor is a bit in love with Yennefer. Because she's a quarter elf?

"When did you last feel happy when you felt trapped?" He has a good point.

They kiss. There is jaunty music of sexy shenanigans.

Jaskier wonders what to do with his life. He's planning to write the BEST song about it, but then Elf Doctor spies on their sexy times. "They're alive!" "Bollocks."

"My plan worked," Geralt says. Yennefer asks, "What did you wish for?" I still don't understand what his FIRST wish - oh, he wished for Jaskier to shut up. I get it now. (I SOMETIMES FIGURE THINGS OUT ALL BY MYSELF WITHOUT HAVING TO ASK KATE)

Fake Mousesack has come for Princess Cici, years in the future.

MAKE HIM DRINK FROM THE WATERS GUYS. Doooo it. Come on come on come on.

The leader of the dryads tells Ciri to be vigilant and ask the right questions. I'm like, yes, be vigilant RIGHT NOW! Dammit.

episode 1 - episode 2 - episode 3 - episode 4 - episode 5 - episode 6 - episode 7

[thotful-writing]

A Helping Silverhand

V needs a break. From people, guns, ripperdocs, and definitely from Johnny. Just a few moments of peace, but Johnny doesn't stay hidden for long.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, masturbation, assisted masturbation, denial, fingering, choking, and hair pulling.

‐---‐------------

"Good as new, well, as good as it can be considering-"

V held her hand up as she slid off the chair, "thanks, Vik."

She didn't need a reminder about the shitshow that was her life and she especially didn't need his name even mentioned.

"Just try not to jump from any high buildings this time. I can only do so much, I'm not a miracle worker." Vik rolled his stool over to the side table, cleaning up his tools.

"Not happening again, I plan on crashing at the apartment and sleeping for a few days... or weeks." She put her weight on the new leg, testing the hardware.

"Sounds like a good plan, V." Vik offered her a slight smile that barely hid the concern he held for her wellbeing.

V made no move to stay and chat longer, she was ready for a much needed break from heavy conversations. She hopped in her car and made quick work of getting home. Driving provided a distraction from the thoughts and it was seldom that her imaginary friend would make a surprise visit in the car. If she could get comfortable enough she'd probably sleep there.

The second she opened the door she shrugged her jacket off and kicked her shoes across the room as she made a path towards her bed.

"Tough day, dear?" Johnny asked from the couch, his feet propped up on the table.

"Fuck off." V snapped, refusing to feed into him.

"Someone's in a shitty mood."

V stopped just short of the bed and turned around to face him, "if I'm in a shitty mood it's because of you."

"Please enlighten me as to how I'm to blame for your mood?" He relaxed back on the couch even more.

"For starters you're always fucking here. And in my head. And that stunt you pulled yesterday, it almost got me killed."

He shook his head and brushed her off, "busted leg is hardly a death sentence. And trust me, if I could leave, I would."

"You kept telling me to jump! You said it wasn't that high and that I'd be fine!" V felt her frustration and anger bubbling to the surface again.

"And look at you, you are fine." He gestured towards her repaired leg.

V let out a harsh sigh and shook her head, dropping the conversation and crawling into her bed. She knew there was no arguing with him and it would only make her angrier. She turned away from him and closed her eyes, ready to welcome a peaceful, Johnny free sleep.

"Figured with as much as you hate me, you'd be out finding more information about the relic jammed in your skull."

V opened her eyes to see Johnny laying next to her, face almost too close to hers.

"Please, just let me sleep." She wasn't keen on begging, but she was exhausted.

Johnny was silent for a moment, which she mistook for compliance with her request, until he spoke again.

"Don't think so, kid. Got shit to do."

V let out a frustrated sigh and turned over, grabbing the pill bottle from next to her bed, "these things make me nauseous as fuck, but it's better than dealing with you."

She tossed one into her mouth and laid back on the bed, waiting for him to disappear.

She was able to slip into a deep sleep, but her dreams were anything but peaceful. She tossed and turned as her mind did back flips, twisting her stress into a tight knot within her. If that wasn't enough, Johnny started to bleed into her dreams as well. At first he seemed to be a source of frustration and chaos, but he quickly faded into something else, a kind of comfort that she wasn't alone.

V woke up and sat up slowly, nausea hitting right on time, giving her an indication of just how long she'd been out and about how long she had left without Johnny. She shuffled towards the bathroom and stood in the shower for what seemed like an eternity. The warm rush of water felt relaxing on her bruised and battered skin, slowly massaging away some of the knots in her muscles. V placed her hands on the shower wall and leaned forward, closing her eyes and reveling in the quiet moment.

She needed this, she needed it desperately. The last few weeks had done nothing but thrown her life into a whirlwind of chaos and pain and these brief moments in between were exactly what she needed to keep going.

She focused on relaxing and enjoying the bliss of her empty thoughts as they passed through, but she needed more, something else to put her completely at ease.

She finished her shower and threw on an old shirt and clean panties before climbing back into her bed. She knew her time alone was dwindling and she needed to take advantage of every second. She let her hand slip down between her thighs, just beneath the waistband of her panties. Eyes closed, mind fixed on one of her many exes that could actually give her a decent orgasm, she let her fingers move down further. The nausea had subsided, for which she was grateful, but it meant Johnny would come back with a vengeance at any moment. She worked harder, finding the right spot with her fingers and focusing her attention there, just there.

"All that work just to nap, shower, and fuck yourself. Pathetic." Johnny's voice made V tense immediately but she kept her eyes closed, determined to keep going.

"Just... shut the fuck up... and let me finish." She panted, so close.

Johnny waited for a moment, seeming to give her a chance, "can't quite get there, can you? It's just out of reach."

"Fuck off..." she concentrated more, changing the pressure of her fingers against her clit.

"This is getting sad." He said after another few minutes.

V's eyes shot open when she felt Johnny move closer to her, his presence was heavy next to her.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She turned and stared at him, her heart racing with uncertainty.

"If this is what you need to get back on task, then I'm helping."

"The fuck you are."

V tried to scoot away from him but he stopped her from moving when his heavy, metal hand wrapped around her throat.

"Pretend all you want that this isn't something you've thought about. I live in your head, I've seen those thoughts that you try so desperately to conceal."

"Intrusive thoughts don't mean shit. Just because my brain likes to fuck with me, doesn't mean I want you in any capacity." V shot back.

Johnny grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from between her thighs, "sure about that? You stopped fighting me pretty quickly."

V opened her mouth to spew more denial, more refusal, but she could feel the pull to him, like a moth to a goddamn flame. And she knew, she knew he would burn her up before it was all over, leaving her an empty shell, but damn if she couldn't stop herself from giving in to stoke the flames a little. She was already on fire, what's a few more scars?

"Fine. Give it your best shot, Johnny." V relaxed a little, but still felt tense as she tried to guess his next move.

Johnny waited another few seconds, making her wait anxiously for him to do something. Suddenly he turned her over on her stomach, his hand gripping the back of her neck and stopping her from moving or turning back around.

"Johnny, the fuck-"

"Don't need you squirming or trying anything else. This is a means to an end, understood?" He snapped.

"Just get on with it." V was fully prepared for his overly cocky demeanor to be all show.

He let out a frustrated sigh, but made no move to release her. He settled beside her, his chest firmly pressed against her shoulder. He ran his hand down V's back and over the curve of her ass, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her panties.

"Shit, Johnny! Could've given me some warning." V jolted at the ice cold touch of his steely fingers.

"Metal arm. What did you expect? Besides, you'll warm them up soon enough." He continued.

His hand moved further down, between her thighs, until his fingers brushed over her clit. V tensed, remaining completely still and chastising herself for letting this happen, for wanting it to happen.

"Need to relax." Johnny said as he started to circle her clit slowly.

"That's what you're supposed to be helping with- fuck." She gasped when he pressed against her clit firmly.

Johnny smirked, "that seemed to shut you up."

V felt her body relaxing more as his fingers worked perfectly between her thighs. He continued to rub her clit while teasing his fingers along her cunt, slipping the tips into her and reveling in the quick jerks of her hips as he found the perfect spot.

Her face was flush, buried in the pillow with her muffled moans that she was struggling to bite back. She wanted to fight her release just to get back at him, but fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Johnny... fuck, don't stop." She squeezed her thighs together as she got closer to letting go.

He entangled his hand in her hair and jerked her head back, pulling her back against his chest, "remember this, this exact moment. Everytime you think I'm just a parasite, that I do fuck all to help you, keep this moment fixed at the forefront of your mind about how you begged me to touch you, pleaded for my fingers buried in your soaked cunt."

V was almost too lost in sensation to care about the bullshit he was spewing so close to her ear, just a few more seconds and she'd be caught in a blissful haze.

His grip tightened on her hair, painfully but just what she needed, "then I want to remember how it felt for Ol' Johnny to let you down."

"Wait, what-"

Johnny released her completely and pulled his hand from between her thighs, leaving her hanging on the cusp of an orgasm that she desperately needed.

[mami-koppe]

Desperate - Dabi x Reader

This is my first fic ever in this fandom pls be gentl. no beta reader WE DIE LIKE SCUM. Also please note that english is not my native language so if you find something wrong *please* point it out 👀 Enjoy!

TW: smut, angst, mentions of drug use and abortion, violence, yadda yadda. aaa

Cyan eyes open up, alarmed and scared and anxious, only relaxing when following the rise and fall of the lump under the white comforter set just beside him. He knows he shouldn't be here; he's had a few more nightmares about a fellow villain finding out about your existence than he was comfortable with. In his dreams they would tear down your house, break the heirloom grandfather clock in your hallway, ravage all the cabinets and drawers (maybe they would find that picture of him under your Christmas-decorated pine tree, the only proof you had of his existence intermingled with yours, and you thought you hid it oh so well but Dabi's far more smarter than that). A shiver runs down his spine and he breaks a sweat when he imagines if Overhaul was the one raiding your apartment. The yakuza boss would most likely delight himself in breaking and putting you back together, again and again, only so he could leave in your bedroom wall a myriad of blood splatters for Dabi to find and grieve for. Chisaki would make sure he wouldn't even have a body to bury. Maybe if he was feeling lucky, not even a brick of your house would be intact, your whole life only resisting in Dabi's memory.

He wishes he could be honourable and selfless enough to say that's the main reason he never bothered to officialise your relationship; but even greater than the fear of coming home and finding your body reduced to a pulp, is the fear of being vulnerable (yet again). He kinda cares about you, yes, he can say that much, and anyone who has met you for more than 15 minutes know that you're in deep. He's not that emotionally stunted. But he's jaded enough to know that caring is a concept with many translations and definitions, and if you so happened to have a different one than he did, specially if that concept involved controlling and screaming and fighting and black bruises all over his back while his skin burned off at every flash of his quirk painfully taking over his body ... He couldn't just sit down and wait to find out.

Also, you seem pretty fine with this arrangement. He has a knack this has less to do with letting him roam free range, and far more with knowing that as soon as you express the need to define the feelings that have grown stronger and stronger for over three years, he will be out the door to never come back. And that simply won't do.

Almost as sensing his distress, you wake up and wrap both your arms around his neck. He tenses for a fraction of second, then relaxes, reaching out for the cigarette pack you leave in the nightstand just for him.

_ "What's on your mind, babe? You seem real distracted. I know you're usually kinda emo but that much brooding just isn't you. Are you okay? Perhaps you're having... cravings again? Did something happen? Was it crusty fuck again? If he tried to decay your face again, I'm so gonna fuck him up..." You run his fingers through his coarse hair, trying to show your adoration while lightly pressing your lips to his jaw and he shudders both from your ministrations and the mentions of his past cravings.

_ "...Whoa whoa whoa, calm down princess. Why are you even awake? It's still really fucking early for so many questions. One would think you would be out like a light by now, since we had so much fun last night, but guess I haven't fucked you hard enough if you still have half a mind to think about all that, dollface. And fuck you, I'm not emo." – he stops, cringing at his out-of-nowhere flirting and vague answers, hoping you don't see right through his crude words, thrown around in case you haven't noticed he's been shaking for the last 20 minutes.

Please don't notice. Please let it go. Please don't point it out.

_ "...Yeah, maybe you're right. But I should be asking you the same, it's 2am and you still got the energy to lewd me. And YES you are emo and well fuck you too. Forget I asked anything, love, if you want to we can talk about that tomorrow morning. Can't afford to be tense when tomorrow's gonna be such a long day, right? So what do you say about letting me tire us both out so we can finally have a full cycle of sleep?", you say, and in that moment he knows that you know.

The sudden pause in your sleep ridden speech tells that you have at least an idea that he's not fine in the slightest, but decided to just ignore it, knowing that your black haired lover wouldn't want to talk about it anyway. So you lift a leg just above his hipbone to pull him closer to your hot, warm core, both of you still naked and spent from your previous lovemaking, one of the few displays of affection he's completely comfortable with.

He runs his hands all over your sides, commiting them to his memory (just in case common sense comes to you without knocking and you finally leave him); suddenly his hands find your hair and tug at your nape, pulling your neck back to find his charred lips. Your smells mingle together, and it's all a blur of smoke, sandalwood, scotch and black pepper.

You kiss him, bringing his mouth towards yours with fervor, while slowly stroking his manhood, pausing around his tip, smearing his precum on your mouth with your fingers (you know he loves seeing you covered in him, and after all these years he wouldn't man up and admit it freely, so you tease him to no end). He can't find it in himself to be rough to you tonight, but it seems you have different plans because it doesn't look like you'll be patient enough for foreplay; and in a blink you are tangled in a mess of sheets and legs and sweat, him sliding swiftly into your heat, appreciating the drag of his swollen tip inside your pussy, going in and out roughly, the fast paced rythm of your skin slapping together only stopping when you feel the familiar head rush of your impeding orgasm and the sensation of his white hot seed spilling deep inside your throbbing center.

His low moans fill the room as he feels you tightly clenching around him; you cannot follow him in his vocal declarations due to being physically incapable of screaming anymore, a mix of pleas and gasps falling out your lips as he bottoms out and groans your name, fucking his cum deeper inside of you. The space between your foreheads close, both heavily panting near each others mouths, following a kiss that's way too sweet considering your personalities.

For a moment, he kinda wants to say those damned three words, but he will be dead before he makes a fool of himself like that, so he kisses your forehead and pull you to his chest, helping himself to a now dreamless sleep.

-------------------------------------------------

It's one of your biggest flaws yet: you are far worse in keeping secrets than you give yourself credit for.

In the five years you spent together, he has plenty of evidence to support this case – all the gifts that were supposed to be a surprise, the job promotion you were hoping to disclose about at a movie night in your house (that said promotion tumbling out of your mouth in one of your daily, unimportant phone calls), the stray cat you tried to adopt without his knowledge (because obviously he would say no without even thinking about it, but now Tama's getting fatter and meaner than ever and Dabi lives for it), and you always said it was the other way around, that Dabi was the one who was way too good at uncovering things that he wasn't supposed to.

And in that exact moment, he wishes you were wrong, because the ripped blue cardboard box he finds forgotten in your bathroom floor just behind the toilet – probably fallen, since it's a bad habit of yours to let your shit fall all over the floor and eventually forget to pick it up – looks too much like the ones he would see in drugstores and at that time Shigaraki made him work undercover for a week in a brothel to gather intel about a winged pro hero who was kind of a degenerate, and he freezes.

He sensed something wrong weeks ago, your delicious skin even more tender to the touch and your face perpetually stuck in a barely concealed frown. He tried to ask you what's the matter a few times, before finally granting you the same leniency given to him when he was having a bad day and wanted to be left alone.

Now the only things going through Dabi's head is "why didn't she tell me", "wasn't she on birth control", "what the fuck is going on" and suddenly he understands why his – wife? girlfriend? lover? fuck buddy? SHIT – always said that some things can't just be left ignored. He never wanted to get high so much in his life.

Like a man possessed, he goes through your trash (it's not like he's not used to some dumpster diving and other unsavoury survival skills, since being a kinda prolific villain can only happen so late in life and before that, you have an empty stomach and way less standards than you'd like to), pausing when he finds what he was dreading: a fucking plastic wire, adorned with two dark pink lines. His eyes begin to blur and he can only thank so much you're at work right now so you can't hear his raging shouts ressonating around your room.

-------------------------------------------------

He does what he does best: he ignores it, simply leaving it all exactly where he found it and waits for you to come home. He helps you cook your favourite meal – you insist it's his turn to choose, but he says he's craving yours – runs you a bath, making sure to douse every crevice of your body in that cherry body wash he loves to smell in you, makes love to you until your head spins and your body is feeling almost bloated with his essence.

Can't get anymore pregnant than that, huh?

He asks about your day, and you let it all out, and every time you make that face you do when you want to tell him something important, he kisses you until you're breathless and changes the subject.

He desperately hopes you choose to keep it.

Then, after you're sleeping soundly on his naked chest, he brings out the duffel bag he hid earlier beneath his side of the bed, gets dressed, gives Tama his beloved wet food, sitting him down for a few minutes of belly rubs and leaves your home, his home, sending you a text through his burner phone that tells you too much about an undercover mission for the LOV that might last for years and none about where your relationship stands.

He's never felt so inadequate. Suddenly he hates being a villain.

He hopes you might catch the underlying forlorn tone in his words – that this is a "goodbye", not a "see you soon" – and not foolishly wait for him to come back. But he kinda knows it is unreasonable to expect you to move on and find a more loving, present person to warm your bed, put a smile on your face, a ring on your left hand, give his only child a decent attempt of a family, promise you the world and keep that promise. He leaves knowing that much.

And as you wake up in the middle of the night, with a cold bed, an empty apartment, a text and the briefest memory of Dabi lovingly kissing your midriff, you cry out for what could have been. Said text was supposed to be monotonous, robotic even, and it's so much like Dabi to go on a mission without wanting to say goodbye in person (because he's too cool for that) that normally you wouldn't even bat an eye, but you know you'll never see him again because of the words adorning the end of your screen.

I love you.

--------------------------------------------------

Yet again, Dabi's dreams haven't ever been easy on him. He jumps out of the bed, startled, as he fumbles with a bag of white pills which he spent the last year or so sneaking from your sight and angrily swallows four at once; the image of a little girl with her grandmother's hair and his azure eyes, no older than three, tightly clutching his hand and smiling. It's way too early in the morning for this shit and he can't be bothered to deal with that yet. Not sober.

Papa, look! I've drawn us today at school! I've made sure you look cool enough like you asked, okay? That's you in your coat, that's mama, that's Tama and that's me!

He's not sure he should burn the image to his mind or off his mind. He still hears your stupid giggles in the back of his head (probably it doesn't help that he has been watching almost daily for the last six months that particular video of you hollering, high as a kite, when he and the LOV raided the compounds of a drug cartel that was antagonising their plans, and let's say that Dabi has come home that day with more than a few weed satchels).

Feeling the top of his head getting heavier and his eyes blurring with difficulty to focus, he clings to the porcelain sink in his hotel room, mindlessly bangs his head on the cabinet just below the small mirror until his forehead is openly bleeding – not that he can feel anything when he's like that anyway, but he DID always try – and lets himself fall to his knees, silently glaring at the floor.

He somberly notes that his blood has painted the bathroom floor a vibrant red. He hopes yours isn't painted too.

Later that day when he has already puked almost all the drugs out his system, he and Kurogiri are sent on a minor errand; some human trafficking ring leader, a former ally, was threatening to spill out their secrets and they were to break and enter, kill him swiftly and move on with their lives, no biggie. But as he steps into the compound – a shell orphanage, he notes – Dabi knows it's not going to be a normal mission. Soon as the children know the leader's dead, most of them flee, making a run for their long lost freedom; but a small group, maybe six or seven of them, stays. And usually Dabi is proud of being the nonchalant, motionless member of the party, but with the late events even he can't help to be a little horrified when he notices that children as young as four have the same eyes he had when he fled his childhood home, Ende- his house.

Children that have seen so much grief and despair they can't be bothered to exit the building, even when he irritatedly screams at them to get out already as the walls roar up in flames. They have no reason for escaping; their will to go on died way before their bodies did. He can look into their eyes and tell already that they will turn out to be like him, or worse. This would be the perfect time for a rookie wide-eyed pro hero to appear and save these innocent children just so they can grow up so emotionally damaged that they will turn to villainy, to be eventually caught and brutally murdered by the very same hero.

Dabi knows the kids will stay rooted to the same spot until they're engulfed by the flames or choked up in poisonous smoke and that's gonna take so much longer; he's already in deep shit with Shigaraki because he said "no witnesses" and so many of them have already fled, so he does what he does best – ignores the vision he has of that little girl, his little girl, embraced by the blue fire of his body as he gives the children the most quick, painless death he can think of.

Dabi's thankful that they don't bother to make a sound. He doesn't think he could stay clean for much longer if he could hear the white haired girl's voice in the squeals and pitiful sobs of the children who stayed behind.

--------------------------------------------------

He returns to his empty hotel room that day, still hearing Shigaraki's screeches ringing in his ear, and the only thing he wants to do is to swallow the whole bag of pills he still has under his mattress and doze off until he chokes up on his own vomit and doesn't wake up the next morning, but he cannot die, not yet, and that night he remembers the children's empty glares as he brings out the half full bottle of whiskey sitting besides his bed and drinks till he's tumbling unconsciously down the wall.

The morning after he wakes up a little emptier inside and his sheets are actually wet with the sweat he expelled during his goriest nightmare yet, but the possibility that yet another child is going to end like the ones he has spared killed the day before drives him mad with frustration. And then, he takes the longest steps he's ever taken in your home's direction.

-------------------------------------------------

This time, is your turn to wake up in a sweat. You can clearly hear the noise of a window lock being picked (your former lover did this way too much in the beginning of your relationship, so much you suspected that he did it for fun, even when you gave him a spare key), and the sheer panic that runs through your whole being when your brain computes it's the nursery window lock being picked, you grab the pistol Dabi gave to you after a night out with your friends almost went sour in a robbery, and runs to your newborn daughter's room. You can feel the tears gathering around your eyes, desperate to hear her make any sound – anything to know she's alive – and when you kick the door open, the gun in your hands seems heavier than it does when shooting, as soon as you reckon the black hair and blue eyes you loved (honestly, love) so much, you seem to forget how to breathe.

The father of your child is holding onto her so tightly, a pained but relieved expression on his face as he clutches her so close to his warm chest, and you feel something wet running down both your cheeks as he presses his trembling lips to her forehead, almost like he expected to find the spare room in your apartment just the way he saw last, empty and full of broken spare parts of utensils and furniture. Your daughter is not bothered at all, like she recognizes him even if she never met him before and your heart is so confused.

Is he gonna leave again?

You longed for him throughout all your pregnancy, wanting him to know he was going to be a father, wanting him to see her first sonograms, feel her first kicks but you knew Dabi could only be there when his mission was over. And you waited, even if every cell in your brain screamed at you for it, confirming what you already suspected – he's abandoned you, both of you.

He thought that maybe you would be gullible enought to believe he was gone for a few months, not the slightest intention of leaving you behind, but in that moment, he knows that you know. And as you choose to let it go once again, he feels all the weight on his shoulders disappear as you both say, in unison:

"Welcome home."

[turbulentt]

Detention

genre: smut | joshua!teacher x fem!reader!student

word count: +2.6k

warnings: explict content, dirty talk, sir kink, public sex

summary: your english teacher has been getting on your nerves since the first time you’ve met. hopefully, things get sorted out after your detention, where you get to be alone with him.

It had been probably the worst school year you've ever had, everything only because of that bloody English class. Your grades were totally fine at all subjects, even math which you had a great problem with, but English had to be the death of you.

And not because of being difficult, which, at least for you, it was not. It dammed you because your teacher never gave you the final grades you deserved, even with straight A's on all tests and quizzes, he would always fuck up everything.

Not just that but he, annoyingly, would also straight up ignore you during the entire time. He asks a question; you raise your hand to answer; he looks at you and you think you're going to be picked; no, you're ignored and he demands the answer from someone else. Annoying, annoying, annoying! God damn you, Joshua!

But he pays the price. His classes are never peaceful, at least not when you're there. Since you're not picked for anything you tend to slightly fuck around. Making jokes about some things Joshua says, throwing paper balls everywhere, saying unnecessary things that make everyone laugh and take Joshua's patience to the limit. 

"And don't forget to read the article I gave you!" the teacher warns while everyone is packing their materials "Class dismissed. Have a good day, everyone."

"Yeah, good day my ass," you whisper to yourself while trying to fit your books into your backpack. When failing to do so you grunt in rage and roll your eyes. While thinking that your day couldn't get worse, you feel Joshua's shadow blocking the light.

"Do you need some help?" he kindly questions and you look up at him. "No, thanks," you answer small as if his presence scares you. "Can I ask you something?" he sits on the table next to yours and crosses his arms. Seeing your little nod he continues "Why are you always playing around and disturbing my class? I've spoken to the other teachers and they said such good things about you."

"I don't know," you lower your head and let out a sigh when finally fitting your books in your backpack "I just feel like it."

"That doesn't seem like a legitimate answer." he approaches your table and rests his hand there "Try again."

You close your eyes tightly in search of spiritual forces to help you say everything that has been on your mind.

"Okay, I'm going, to be honest. Your class fucking annoys me. I'm one of the best students, if not THE best, and you act like I don't exist. Whenever I raise my hand to answer a question I'm never the one who's picked and it really makes me angry. So yeah, that's why I fuck around and do nothing in your classes. Maybe if you gave me more attention I would behave better." you let everything out like your life depends on it.

"You are my best student." he brushes his hair with his fingers with a slight grin on his lips "And I never pick you because I know you're going to answer correctly without any problems. I could never ignore such a top student."

"Then why do you give me shitty grades?"

"Can you please stop using those kinds of words? That's not appropriate, Y/N." he says firmly, almost in a groan, with a serious expression "And I don't give you better grades because of your behavior in class."

"Well, it is your fault." you huff at his response, and the annoyance can be seen in his eyes. "You're making me really mad. Stop saying it's my fault. You're the one acting like a brat." he says, dangerously close to your face. "But it IS your fault, what can I do?" you talk back enjoying the unsatisfied look in his eyes.

"Here's what you can do, you can meet me in detention in fifteen minutes." he slams his hand on your table and leaves to his', ignoring your whines and apologies.

Fifteen minutes never went by so fast like those, and you couldn't be more depressed. You just wanted to get it over with and go home to rage about how frustrated you felt because of your teacher.

When the time came you entered the class and sat at the back of the room with your headphones on and looking at the window. Probably no one would appear at that hour to have detention, it was too early. Which means you would have to be all alone with Joshua. "Great. My biggest dream." you ironically mumbled to yourself.

"What's your biggest dream?" A loud voice echoes through the room making you jump on the chair "It's just me." he giggles at your startled expression. "I wasn't expecting." you pouted like a little kid and got back to your music.

Joshua just sat by his table and took some things out of his case. You didn't even want to glance at him, but for some reason, he looked so attractive with his glasses on and the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. You couldn't help yourself, you had to take in his beauty for just a moment.

He could be annoying and do unfair things to you but you couldn't deny how fucking ethereal that man is. You feel blessed by his beauty honestly, although his personality haunted you. 

To your surprise, he raised his head suddenly and stared back at you. He only gave a chaste smile before paying attention to his work again. Embarrassed, you just set your eyes back at the view outside.

Not even ten minutes into the detention and you were already grunting as if it was physically hurting. Being on your phone didn't distract you enough and the tension inside that room was too strong. Due to the hot weather, it got incredibly hot inside and Joshua needed to undo one of the buttons of his shirt. At that moment things got even hotter, and it was definitely not the classroom.

Trying to fade away these thoughts you laid your head on your backpack, which laid on the table, and closed your eyes. At least that way you wouldn't be looking at your teacher and wouldn't seem like a thirsty teenager.

Ten more minutes passed and you felt a gentle hand caressing your head. Not actually realizing who was its owner you leaned into the touch and almost purred out of satisfaction.

"You look just like a kitten." his low voice whispered on your ear and your only reaction was too raise your head slowly and blush aggressively at the sight of your teacher. "You looked really peaceful but I can't let you sleep here," he spoke gently, as always, his gentleman side got you soft and you smiled agreeing.

"Mr. Hong?" you called softly and he smiled at the sight of his name exiting your lips. "Yes?" he raised an eyebrow but kept his smile on. "Can you do that again?" you blushed, shy for making such a stupid request.

"Do what?" he was slightly confused at the beginning but understood when you looked at his hands. "Oh.." he raised one and stroked your hair again "This?"

You nodded smiling and closed your eyes. It actually felt good. His strong and soft hand caused so many different sensations. They made you forget how much you hated him, at least at that moment.

Slowly you felt his hot breath dangerously close to you and, in a split of a second, you felt the texture of his sweet lips. Not regretting a bit you leaned closer to his touch and kissed him back. It was so wrong but felt incredibly good.

Not letting the kiss continue he got away from you and stared at your lips as if he just did something terribly wrong and wanted to do it again. "I'm really sorry." he didn't seem to have the words to express what he was feeling at the moment so he just smiled like he usually does, which made you get a little bit mad. "If you were really sorry you wouldn't have kissed me. And if you regret it you wouldn't be staring at my lips like you wanted to kiss me again. If you really want to do so, then be a man and fucking kiss me."

Something in your words made his personality shift and an intense gaze could be seen in his eyes as if he was a hunter searching for his prey. Desperately he attacked your lips and started a dominant kiss. And wow, he did know how to be dominant. The position you were in was quite uncomfortable so he just sat on the chair next to yours and, without letting go of your lips, he pulls you to his lap.

His sudden change of behavior kind of scared you in some way but you really enjoyed it. Actually, it was a big turn on. So, there you were: sitting on your teacher's lap as you kiss him and almost moaning at the touch of your skins.

Needing some air you ended the kiss, only to start leaving wet kisses all over his pale neck. "What are we doing?" he chuckled throwing his head back feeling aroused just by the touch of your lips on him. "We're having some fun, Mr. Hong." you said innocently looking at his eyes, which were filled with lust "Don't tell me you don't want me because your hands don't say the same."

And, in fact, they didn't. They were grabbing your hips strongly, keeping you really close to him, as if he never wanted to let go of you. "Well, I can't say I haven't dreamt about this once or twice." unprepared for his sentence you blushed intensely and hid your face on his neck.

"Don't be so shy. I saw the way you were looking at me just now." he grins and gets up carrying you with him. "Where are we going?" you ask confused. 

"To my table, so we can have more space." he raises you slightly and grabs you by your ass. You moaned at his grip and ground on his body asking for more attention. He laid you on the table and quickly got on top, kissing you harshly this time as if he remembered something that got him furious.

Your hands were at the back of his neck caressing and mildly pulling his hairs. His hands were each by the side of your head sustaining his body. He pulled away and looked you dead in the eye "I should punish you for being such a brat, Y/N." he lowered his head, and between soft bites on your neck he kept talking "I didn't really enjoy the way you talked back at me today. You need to know your place, kitten."

You moaned at the nickname, it sounded so good coming from him. Slowly he unbuttoned your pants and lowered them gently as if he could break you just by doing so, he was back to his gentleman side. Eagerly he kisses your inner tights making you throw your head back in anticipation, you could already imagine what wonders his mouth is capable of.

Seeing your wet panties he smirks and raises his eyes to yours "So wet already, kitten?"

You look away in embarrassment and he grabs your thigh firmly. "Stop playing, Joshua." you let out almost in a moan.

"Did I give you permission to call me by my name?" he scoffs and presses his thumb on your clit making you gasp loudly "It's sir for you." he takes his hand back "Understood kitten?"

"Yes, sir." you saw his pupils dilate the double just because of what you said. He never seemed like the kinky type, but know that you see it, it really suits him.

With his glasses on the tip of his nose and his shirt almost all undone and wrinkled he stod in front of your lower parts facing your core. "Tell me, kitten." he slowly grabs your panties with his teeth and lowers them to your knees "Do you think you deserve to be well treated?"

You nodded aggressively holding yourself up by your elbows just so you can look at Joshua. He lets out a tsc before getting rid of your underwear completely. "I don't think you do," he smirks and you pout, whining in response.

"Please, sir. I promise I'll behave." there it was, what he wanted. Now you knew your place, and you would do anything for his touch. Now Joshua knows he has you in his hand. 

That said you just feel his warm tongue on your pussy and moan loudly Joshua's name out of pure pleasure. Your hands run through his hair and push him slightly more to you, his skilled tongue playing with your clit was making you see stars and you could feel your body warm up more and more. His eyes never leaving yours making you even more aroused.

"Oh God, yes.. yes... Josh... Joshua..." you moaned loudly as he sucked your clit. "Are you almost there, Kitten?" he backs away for a bit to ask you when he sees your body twitch with pleasure. You nod and he stands up "Then bend over for me, fast."

You get out of the table and do as asked, bent over the table, ass up and legs wide open for Joshua. At the sight in front of him, he slowly walked his hands through your whole body making you shiver since you were still so sensitive. You rub your ass on his pants making him groan at the feeling of your body on his boner. "How bad do you want it, kitten?" he asks huskily in your ear as you hear him unbuckle his belt.

"I.. I want it all inside me, sir," you say panting. He quickly undoes his pants and gets them off, the same with his boxers, and stands behind you. "Then be sure to take it all well, kitten." he kisses your neck while rubbing his hard cock on your heat. You nod eagerly and watch as he gets a condom from his wallet. The sound of Joshua's grunts and low moans only made you want him inside you even more.

So, your wishes were fulfilled. He started entering you slowly, caressing your hips to distract from the pain, and made sure to only move when you told him to. After listening to your first moan he knew he could start and firmly moved inside you. His steady pace became more and more irregular as he increased his rhythm and you thought you were going to hit your limit right there at that moment. "You feel so good, kitten." he grunts as he watches his lenght move in and out of you "You love my cock don't you?"

"Yes.. oh yes... I love it.." you say between moans. Suddenly Joshua discovers your sweet spot and starts ramming into you hard and deep, hitting it multiple times, making you almost scream. "Oh, I'm so close.." he kisses the back of your neck, never losing his pace "cum with me, kitten."

It only takes a few more hits to make you release all your juice and right after Joshua does the same.

Panting, he comes out of you and smiles as he helps you both clean yourselves. After you're fully dressed and back to normal he looks at his watch and smiles "Detention time is over."

You smirk and take your stuff to walk away from the classroom. As you're leaving you hear him call your name once again.

"Don't forget. You have detention tomorrow, kitten."

[paradox-psyc-hoe-sis]

Bruce Banner headcanons Babey

Bruce Banner x reader, slight Tony Stark x reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: none!!!

A/n: hi! These aren't any specific category of headcanons, it's just stuff that dating Bruce would include. There's stuff about how you both would spend christmas, quarantine, etc. Just some cute fluff. Love ya'll - Aphro-frickin-dite

• Bruce is obsessed with tea.

• You will NEVER catch him without a mug in his hand. Whether it's earl grey, chamomile, matcha or English breakfast, he'll always be drinking tea.

• He also knows the different properties of tea and when you should drink them because he just loves tea so much.

• "Babe, look at this! I just found out that berry herbal tea can help with migraines."

• He also loves to cook, it's one of his biggest passions.

• He'll cook you dinner all the time, constantly buying new books to spot any new recipes.

• When he's stressed, the first place he goes is the lab. Being around the technology and whiteboards packed with equations brings him peace, for some reason.

• You both kiss in the lab so often that Tony often doesn't let you inside.

• "Open the fucking door, Antony."

"Fine, but if you start making out with Brucey then you'll have to give me a kiss too!"

• You and Tony having this weird frenemy kind of relationship. He didn't like you two being at such close proximity first because he thought it would distract Bruce, but he sees how you make him so much happier so he can't help but like you.

• Okay so we all know Bruce doesn't sleep much, the poor dude's an insomniac.

• But he always sleeps so much better when he has you in his arms, just knowing that you're there and he can keep you safe.

• But on those nights where he just cannot drift off, he likes to do something fun.

• He'll wake you up just after midnight and will (quietly) play some old fashioned music, and you'll both sleepily slow dance in the middle of your room.

• In fact, it was more Steve's music taste who influenced Bruce than Tony's, Bruce was never a fan of the whole 90s rock thing.

• He mainly listens to music from the late 30s, classical music like Tchaikovsky, or 70s dance music. He has three moods.

• Sometimes you'll walk into the kitchen to find Bruce, dancing to Gimme Gimme Gimme by Abba, while cooking dinner.

• He's such a cuddler omg.

• Although he isn't a big fan of PDA, he is a monster for affection when it's only the both of you.

• Cold winter mornings, cuddling in bed under 50 million blankets. Your legs intertwined, just a messy tangle of limbs.

• Bruce is always warm. No matter what the weather, he's practically a human radiator.

• He loves it when you play with his hair.

• Just loosely running your fingers through it will drive him insane.

• He's always so scared to kiss you! Even ages after you both spent your first intimate night together, he always gets really nervous to come and kiss you, so usually you have to initiate it.

• Despite this, he loves giving you tiny pecks on the lips and nose. Never really one for making out, but he just loves planting tiny kisses across your face.

• Coming back from a mission is when he needs affection most. He'll hug you so tight against your chest, desperate to get you closer to him every second.

• He loves your singing voice, and whenever he gets really anxious you'll sing to calm him down.

• Even if you don't think you can sing very well, he could spend his entire life having you sat next to him, quietly singing some of his favourite songs.

• Although the man has two left feet, he LOVES to dance. But only around you. He'd never let any of the avengers catch him dancing, but with you, he feels truly comfortable and will dance forever.

• He loves watching and analysing movies, so expect lots of movie nights together.

• You always force him to watch musicals and disney movies and he pretends to hate it, but secretly he absolutely loves it.

• Pulling all nighters together in the lab can be a mixed bag.

• One time you pulled an all nighter, you were both super serious and put all of your attention on your work, not wasting any time to fuss about each other.

• Another time you pulled an all nighter, Tony left the lab to grab some coffee and returned to find you and Bruce re-enacting the scene from titanic on top of one of the tables, both of you screaming "My Heart Will Go On" at the top of your lungs.

• Whenever the holidays come around you both go all out. Even if neither of you actually celebrate them religiously, you love to put loads of decorations up and play Christmas music all the damn time.

• It kinda drives the rest of the avengers crazy.

• But on Christmas day, you and Bruce plan all the festivities for the group. He'll cook christmas lunch, you'll be in charge of movies and presents, and you'll both definitely be wearing matching ugly Christmas sweaters.

• He's your biggest supporter, and you're his. He just adores you and worships every fibre of your being, and he often wonders how he managed to get someone as beautiful as you. And when he's had a rough day and is full of insecurities, your the first person to remind him of how intelligent and kind he is.

• Y'all are a power couple I'll tell you that.

• When quarantine started, it wasn't easy for either of you. It made you both super stressed and paranoid, but you were self isolating together and that was all that mattered.

• Bruce kinda getting a cult following on Tumblr and Twitter, having over 12k followers. Because his fans (well, technically the Hulk's fans) love you so much, you both like to release little videos to let them know you're doing well while in lockdown.

• "Hey guys, it's Bruce and y/n here, we just wanted to let you all know that we're healthy and happy at home."

"Yeah, although it's been driving us up the wall, staying at home is the most important thing for us and the world. So stay home and stay safe! And don't forget to wash your hands. Unlike Bruce, who doesn't wash his hands after he pees..."

"Hey! I wash my hands after I pee!"

[Incoherent laughing]

• You both learn from each other so much and inspire the other to be a better person.

• I want 🤧