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chriscamopants · 2 months ago

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Pulling on pigtails // beard Matt

Warnings: smut tehee / beard kink (is this even a thing?? lol) / cunnilingus / ‘good girl’ + ‘little girl’ / thigh kink / hair pulling / soft dom x sub fem reader / seated scissors / praise kink / spit kink / cream pie / hair pulling if you squint

Summary: you and Matt didn’t like each other at all when you were younger. In fact, you hated each other. Or so you thought. Y’know that one saying? That if a boy pulls on a girl’s pigtails it means he secretly likes her? Well… in Matt’s case that was certainly true, it just took him a little bit of growing up to realise.

“Sometime ‘round eighth grade, remember our bodies were changing, you looked at me different…” - Ant Pile, Dominic Fike

•First grade•

You’re playing in the sandpit, just minding your own business by piling hoards of grit into the little bucket you have resting at your side. You intend to make a sandcastle, one of the best sandcastles you’ve ever made.

You stick your tongue out in concentration, your summer dress fit for the sunshine as it adorns your little body. Your sunhat is nestled on top of your head to shield you from the harsh rays that beam down from the sky whilst you busy away with playing by yourself. Packing in the sand tightly and then turning it with expert precision, your small chubby arms lift the mould carefully before you smile widely at the vision of the perfect sculpture placed before you. Well, as perfect as a sculpture of something can be to a 6 year old…

You have your back turned to your surroundings as you marvel at your creation. A mistake. Because, after you place the bucket back to the floor, someone else’s hand grabs a firm hold of one of your pigtails, yanking it backwards. You squeak as you fall onto your behind, covering the dress printed with sweet little strawberries in a myriad of sand before you twist your head at the sound of a childishly mean laugh.

‘Ouch? What was that for?’ Your voice wobbles, your glassy eyes looking at a young Matt who stands and crosses his arms in gleeful cruelty behind you, his dungarees still a little big for him and the slivers of a Spider-Man t-shirt peaking out from under the covers of his denim. He ignores you as he boyishly smirks, his dark blond hair straight and his mouth opening to bully you even further.

‘Ha! You loser. What ya doin’ building sandcastles?’ He jeers as he steps into the sandpit, his new pair of unlaced converse already scuffed up because of the amount of games of tag he’s played with his friends this morning. Suddenly, and to your utter dismay, he doesn’t give you enough time to retort back your upset before he is raising one of his legs and kicking it outwards. It barrels straight into your perfect sandcastle.

‘Building sandcastles is for babies. Babies like you!’ He ridicules as he stomps his foot into the sandcastle that you had just poured your entire heart and soul into creating not even moments ago.

Your fragile eyes well up with tears that drip from your waterline after Matt finishes crushing your craft. ‘That wasn’t very nice…’ you peep with an unmistakable frown on your face and your voice already raggedy with sobs. Matt’s beady blue eyes look at you once more, before he screws his face up and observes the way you cry, still in the position from when he had first snuck up to you and pulled on your hair teasingly.

‘Aww what’s wrong… you gonna cry?’ He feigns a pout as your nose begins to run.

Your little self feels so embarrassed that you’re crying in front of a boy, no less crying in front of Matt. He’s so mean to you. He picks on you all the time. You get no peace from him, you just wish he’d leave you alone, you liked being alone.

Pulling the stuffed animal you take everywhere you go from the floor, you hug it delicately into your chest as Matt jeers a chanting ‘Crybaby! Crybaby! Crybaby!’ Continuously whilst leaping around and pointing at you. You look to the ground shamefully, before you can’t take much more of his abuse. You don’t want to attract any more attention, not even from the parents that all flock together just yards away, huddled around the neighbourhood barbecue. And you certainly don’t want Matt causing you even more grief by calling you a snitch.

So instead, a simple whine is peeped from your throat as Matt steps back out of the sandbox, but not before playing with you once again by knocking off the little flowery bucket hat that had been fixed onto your head. You swipe it back up and dust it off angrily as he giggles and skitters off to go and play another game of hide and go seek with all of the other kids on the neighbourhood block. He turns back around once more to rudely stick his tongue out at you before leaving you all by yourself, now to wallow in your own sadness as you slump next to the destroyed sandcastle.

You just can’t help yourself as your nerve snaps, and as Matt runs away in his baggy dungarees, you squeal a high pitched and defiant ‘Maaaattt!!!’ To emphasises your anger, before huffing and petulantly crossing your arms, your head still kind of emanating a dull ache from where he had pulled your hair earlier.

Like you said, you just wished that annoying boy would leave you alone.

•Now•

‘Matt…’ you moan as he drops your thighs from the fleshy grip of his hands. You fall to your bed.

Within the soft lighting, his beard looks even darker and more prominent as he gazes at you with hungry eyes. Your heart beats down at your clit at wanting his tongue on you as soon as possible.

You and Matt are slightly older now.

At the roaring age of 20, you had bumped into him in your local grocery store after not seeing him for years. You see, you and him had gone to different high schools when you were younger, and sure, you had seen him around your neighbourhood a couple of times before, but it had never been enough to form a proper conversation with him.

Both of you had clearly been shocked at how much your appearances had changed as adults. You found it quite funny really, that the boy from your old neighbourhood block who used to crumple up balls of paper and chuck them at your head childishly, now had himself a beard.

Matt had been too stunned to speak.

Now being the mature young man that he was, he really didn’t expect to see an age old crush of his standing before him and looking just as pretty, if not prettier than she had when in her youth.

In the grocery store, he remembered smiling fondly at you as you both stood in the bread section, before reaching out one of his hands to jokingly tug on one of the pigtails. ‘Still wear around your pigtails huh?’ He had mumbled, a wave of nostalgia hitting the both of you as you looked at each other curiously. You blushed, embarrassed that the day you had decided to plait your hair into pigtails was the day that you would bump into what you considered to be your childhood bully. Typical.

Although, Matt saw you as something completely different at the time - unbeknownst to you.

You had shrugged and smiled sheepishly, replying with a ‘you’ve got a beard now…’ as you pointed towards the dark hair holding up his cheekbones sharply. Matt had softly chuckled and gently dropped his eyes to check you out. ‘Yeah I guess I do’.

As you chatted a little more, both of you decided to stick with each other for the rest of the duration of your grocery trips to catch up. Matt had even walked you out of the store and into the small parking lot. After he had put his groceries away into his car, shutting the trunk and locking it back up again, he felt the need to talk to you further and so shyly asked you out to dinner- which obviously you agreed to.

It was nice to see how much Matt had changed and really grown up, it was refreshing almost. However, that dinner date didn’t end at all like how you expected it would… because to end the evening, Matt had spent the entire night apologetically fucking his cock up into you on your couch, both of your faces sweaty and blushed, soaking in the obvious attraction you had felt towards one another. His hands had tightly intertwined with yours as he pinned them above your head and his mouth had been so close to yours the whole entire time. You remember him releasing whimpering pants against your mouth in between sloppy kisses whilst he mumbled ‘m’sorry… m’so sorry for how I treated you when we were kids…’.

But after you were finished, the endeavour didn’t end there, you didn’t cut off all contact with each other and go back to never speaking again. No. Instead, Matt had boldly asked for your updated number, since both of you now had phones, a luxury that 6 year old you two could have only dreamt of. And he texted you, again and again, and he also came over to fuck you… again and again. He was certainly a lot more straightforward with it now, that’s for sure.

Matt just couldn’t get enough of you, he was fucking obsessed with you, and he took full advantage over the fact that his 20 year old self now had the confidence to pursue you, the confidence that 8th grade Matt lacked.

And so that was that.

Now you are both here, Matt making a routine visit around to your apartment with hungry eyes and a hungry appetite.

The older boy kneels onto your bed, the mattress groaning and squeaking underneath his weight which gets you to shift in anticipated desire as he crawls right over to your awaiting body.

Slipping in between your legs, your hands splay behind you and keep you steady as his lips feather onto yours again, his tongue making easy work of snaking into your mouth and licking against your own. He kneels in between your spread legs, smoothing his hands down your rib cage and sliding them to your hips, before moaning ‘lie down angel’ into your lips, gently helping you by digging his thumbs into your tender flesh.

You fall back, your hair fanning out around you, but your head not quite reaching a pillow, so Matt smacks his lips, leaning over you so he can snatch one and slide it under your head for your comfort.

‘That better for my baby?’ He mumbles with his hands coming to rest under your arms, dangerously close to your swelled tits that had hardened upon his presence. You nod and he smirks, leaning his head down as he simultaneously moves his thumbs onto the pebbles of your nipples, yourself whimpering whilst he rubs them and kisses down into your mouth again.

Matt spent an awful lot of time during your horny fucks trying to make up for his past actions and mean comments by showering you with compliments and babying you as much as possible and it worked to flatter you into wetness every single fucking time.

‘Aren’t you just so pretty…’ he absentmindedly praises against your lips, now slipping the rest of his hands onto your tits to gently squeeze them, resulting in your rosy blush turning to an aroused red.

You swallow, bashful and nervous as he gets you to lean up so that he can slip your thin cotton top from off of your torso.

Throwing it to the floor, he sits back on his haunches to admire your bare tits, dewy and flushed whilst you look away in embarrassment.

‘Stop staring…’ you mumble shyly, but he only frowns, reaching his hand forward to grip your chin and turn it back to his face. ‘But why? They’re mine are they not? You’re my little girl… not anyone else’s… beautiful things should be looked at’ he starts, and once again, you feel the gush and drip of your arousal seeping through your underwear.

His voice dims to a whisper… ‘and beautiful things should be touched… shouldn’t they angel?’ He asks a rhetorical question before his hands find your tits again.

You falter, moaning a little when his mouth comes next, fully attaching itself to your right one so that his tongue can roll over your sensitivity, he hums and your back arches when you grip onto his floppy hair, his palms now caressing your waist. ‘Fuck…’ you quietly breathe into the air, nearly having to bite your lip and suppress a groan when Matt cheekily mumbles ‘is my little girl trying to use big girl words now?’ into you tits.

His tongue drips saliva all over them, and when he pulls away the freshly coated skin shines within the light, before he goes to suck on your left one.

Matt likes to spend extra time on every inch of your body, every inch of your skin, before he really gets what he wants, which is a taste of the delicate cherry nestled in between your honeyed thighs.

Leaning his chin on your breastbone, he watches the way you have your head thrown back in ecstasy like a lion, before he leans back up to roll both his sweater and his shirt up and over his head, soon discarding his own clothes. Then, he slips his thumbs into your pyjama shorts, taking them off and almost drooling at the sight of your baby pink panties, soft with a little bow at the stitch of them.

Some things never change. Your incessant love for the colour pink ever since you‘ve been a little kid being one of them.

This makes Matt’s cock throb, and he drips pre-come into his boxers at the sight of his little girl with her tits out, all hot and bothered just for him as he leers over her.

Suddenly, you pipe up in a gentle voice, being careful with your inquire which makes Matt’s heart melt and his cock even harder.

‘Can… can I have your special kisses now, please?’

Matt nods his head, stroking his hands down the backs of your thighs as he dreamily muses ‘of course you can angel… such a good girl for asking so nicely, aren’t you?’.

His praise naturally rolls off of his tongue like melted chocolate, and his hands make you ache. Finally, he leans down, before nudging his nose against your throbbing nerve, mumbling a starved ‘these panties are so pretty little girl… I think I’m going to keep them so that I can wrap them around my cock whilst I think of you when I touch myself’.

With that being said, you let out a strangled breath, your back yet again arching and your toes curling as his thumbs slip into the waistband of them to pull them off.

After they roll off, Matt shoves them into his back jean pocket, wasting no time in diving back down and spreading your thighs open for him whilst he caresses them. He squeezes them when you hiss at the feeling of his tongue licking into you, his head nestled right in between your thighs so that he can look up at your face over-protectively.

Matt’s facial hair is long enough for you to feel his bearded face harshly graze along each side of your thigh whilst his jaw works mercilessly. The rough hairs rub against your core when his nose nudges against your folds to get better access and you arch your back into the air at the sensation of it.

‘Matt- that feels so good… please-’ you beg, not being able to help yourself as you grab his hair and keep him there, squeezing your thighs around his head so that you can guiltily feel his facial hair better as he licks into you.

‘Yeah? Am I treating my little girl well hm? Am I taking care of her like I said I would?’ He teases, bringing his face up to look right into your eyes from between your legs, obviously happy with the noises he has managed to force out of you thus far.

You nod your head, humming aggressively before you buck your hips up, wanting him to continue for a little while longer… and so he does, except this time, something changes within the swirling motions of his tongue.

Instead of his usual strokes and licks, he slows his wet muscle down, making you realise within the suggestive motions that he is spelling out an ‘M’ on your clit. After the ‘M’ he slowly kisses it once, before spelling out an ‘A’. Your stomach drops and churns with desire at the possessive yet erotic nature of the action.

Soon after a continuation of kisses, two ‘T’s are spelt out, and finally an ‘S’…

Matt’s…

Your clit belongs to Matt, and he makes that very clear with the flick of his tongue and the look he gives you as he gazes up at you whilst spitting on it to get it wetter with his own saliva.

‘You’re fucking mine’ he throatily speaks with a deep hoarseness to his voice, and your stomach rises and falls with laboured breaths.

‘Yes… yes I’m all yours!’ You whine into the air, looking down at Matt just as lustfully as he looks up at you, your past hatred of each other all washing away as you find comfort within the tangle of your limbs.

Then Matt hums. ‘You’ve been such a good girl for me, letting me have you like that…’ he strokes your thighs yet again in adoration, resting his bearded chin on your pubic bone whilst lustily flitting his eyes up to you.

You smile at how similar yet different he looks to you now, both of you enthralled completely with each other. Past pains and experiences are wiped clean from the new slate you selected for your lives as soon as you had bumped into each other that one time in the grocery store.

•Fourth grade•

You’re on a field trip with your fourth grade class to your local aquarium.

You mind your own business, sticking out like a sore thumb as you trail behind everyone else, walking at the back by yourself. But you don’t feel lonely, you feel content at finally having peace. As the rest of your class chatters in groups happily, squealing and marvelling at all of the colourful fish, you prefer to admire them in quiet silence, walking right up to the glass and staring at their delicate fins before each time, seeing that the rest of the class has moved on and running to catch up with them.

You had just exited the underwater tunnel through the shark tank, looking at the floor to see their sleek grey bodies gliding underneath you before entering the jellyfish room. There are tanks upon tanks of different colourful jellies, some poisonous and some harmless, but all of them equally as beautiful with their trailing tendrils of stingers. You gasp quietly, your eyes sparkling as you run up to a massive tank full of a glowing purple and green species that float and dance about in the deep blue water aimlessly.

You press your hands up to the glass in childlike wonder, your nose almost touching the thick material whilst you scan over them and try to count how many are in the tank.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes watch your back, he too, by himself as his group of friends had left him to go and look at a tank full of long orange jellyfish. He hides behind a small tank in the centre of the room, shyly peaking around the corner at you and trying to think of a way he can poke at you.

He bites his nails and hums, wanting an excuse to walk up and tease you since he hasn’t already done so today. Ultimately, he decides to creep up behind you, smirking quickly at the creative idea that shoots through his mind whilst looking at your dad’s old baseball cap sitting on your head.

His quiet walk soon turns into a quick bursting sprint, allowing him to race up to you and pluck your hat from off of your head before you have the time to register who it even is. You yelp and spin around in fear, your hand slapped on top of your now bare head as you look at a proud Matt in horror and fear. Your heart rate quickens. You were so scared of him.

‘HEY! Give me that back!!’ You bravely demand, your attention now distracted from the jellyfish and fixating upon the wicked boy who smirks and holds it up above his head. You go to reach for it, but realise in dismay that you aren’t tall enough. Matt had annoyingly had a boyish growth spurt over the winter break and was now a couple of inches taller than you.

You feel sick in worry as your heart rattles against your ribcage.

‘Ha! Nice try’ he cackles, extending his hand up even further when you wobble onto your tiptoes to try and reach for it. To steady your balance, you have to grapple your hand onto one of Matt’s shoulders to stretch upwards and he secretly blushes, not too sure as to why your touches seems to give him conflicted feelings of affection. You whine when he only leans up onto his tiptoes too, again, pushing your hat up further from your reach.

‘Matt this isn’t funny’ you struggle, smacking your lips and extending out your body as far as you can, before he starts to wave about his arm to dodge your clawed hand. He only giggles deviously in return.

Once, just once, you’d wish for him to not pester you when you’re minding your own business, you were enjoying your little day trip out, and this just ruined it all.

‘Yes it is’ he retorts back. But before he can take his jest any further, your fourth grade teacher Mrs Banks notices your little ruckus and decides to intervene, much to your immediate relief.

‘Matthew Sturniolo!’ She calls and Matt suddenly goes rigid, the hairs on the back of his neck raising as he turns to look at her sheepishly whilst her short high heels clack towards you two. You relax, knowing that Matt is probably most likely going to be told off. And you’re right when she berates him and forces him to hand you back your hat and apologise.

For the rest of the school trip you stay glued to Mrs Bank’s side, fearful that trailing at the back will only make you more of a target for Matt’s vicious onslaught of teasing once again. But Matt stays put with the rest of his friends, only giving you periodic glances and death stares after being chastised by your teacher.

You went home that day feeling dejected and Matt went home feeling confused and frustrated. Because why is it, that he enjoyed teasing you so much. So much so to the extent where he didn’t think he could go a day without it?

•Now•

‘Do you think you’re ready for my cock now angel…?’ He questions, before answering the question himself when he leans upwards to unbuckle his belt, the metal jingling as he threads it through his belt loopholes and onto the floor.

Then his pants come next, leaving him almost as exposed as you, before he bends back down and digs his hands underneath your body, scooping you up effortlessly and cushioning you into his lap. His hands freely trail, groping and squeezing your thighs so hard that when he removes them, they leave little red marks and crescent moon nail imprints into your flesh.

You kiss frantically once again, desperate to engulf your scents over each other’s skin whilst you place your thumbs on either sides of his cheeks. His tongue is hot and sticky, your connection so messy that sometimes you accidentally get spit over the skin around your mouths. As you stroke your fingers over his jaw and cheekbones, you feel his bristly facial hair and clench your soaked thighs at its roughness, remembering the way it sharply rubbed against the insides of your spread legs just moments ago.

‘Please- please can I have your thigh…?’ You politely ask into his lips, your beg coming out breathless and whimpered. Matt sighs, ‘but baby… I wanna have your gut…’. You pull away and pout in sadness, and Matt’s heart sinks at the look on your face, again, the guilt of his past coming to haunt him. Just then, he thinks of an idea.

‘Why don’t we compromise then…’ your face lights up and you nod.

‘What do you want me to do…?’ You trail off and clench again when Matt pinches one of your thighs. Matt smirks, and then crunches his stomach so that he can lower his back onto your mattress, yourself still sitting on his lap. ‘Take these off angel…’ he mumbles, referring to his boxers that conceal his dripping cock. You obey him without question, the angel comment driving you to the edge as you hook your hands into his pants and slide them down. You get up from off of his lap momentarily to remove them from his haired thighs and toss them onto the floor before returning your full attention to the way his cock stands and almost visibly pulses.

‘What now?’ You breathe and watch Matt’s grin as his head props itself up onto your stack of pillows. ‘Back on my lap n’turn around… let me see that ass’ he instructs lightly, his voice soothing and encouraging as you squint your eyes and turn your back to him in confusion. Swinging one of your legs over to his other hip, you sit on his pelvic bones, the sight of his sticky red tip dripping from just below you.

‘Spit on it.’ He demands once again, this time in a more commanding tone. Again, you do exactly as he says and let a thick string of saliva pour from out of your mouth. It splatters right onto his head and he hisses as it slowly rolls its way down the left side of his thickness. ‘Good girl…’ he struggles, his voice forced through his gritted teeth.

‘Now put one of your legs in between mine and sit on my cock’, you obey him quickly, your core aching to feel his shaft forcing your walls apart as you hoist you left leg in between his so that you can now sit on top of him at an angle. Gravitating upwards, you grip onto him and push his tip in between your folds. Slowly sliding down you let out a gulping pant before fully sitting your ass back down over his bulging hipbone. Matt tips his head back and feathers his eyes shut before willing himself to slide the thigh nestled in between your two legs upwards.

He brings it up just far enough for you to grind your clit over it when you start to move.

‘There’s your thigh angel’.

He smirks whilst looking at your back, your ass so tantalisingly sat on him that he could burst at any moment. He feels the heat from your clit emanating towards his thigh readily and it makes his mouth water.

Your chest heaves as you look down at his haired thigh wedging open your legs, the hard muscle of it brushing against your clit ever so slightly. After a couple of moments of silence and heaving breaths, Matt decides to reach out his hands to smooth them against the curves of your hips, his palms splayed on the sides of your asscheeks. ‘Is my little girl gonna move then, hm?’ He hums tauntingly, before helping you a little by rocking you forward and flexing his thigh towards you so that you can grind it onto your clit.

Your breath hitches and one of your hands comes flying up to firmly grasp ahold of his bent kneecap, the other one gripping onto the bedsheets at your side.

He starts to move you gently, his cock slipping in and out of your cunt slickly whilst your weeping clit is continuously stimulated on his thigh. You bite your lip, tossing your head back and arching your spine into the rest of his thigh whilst he keeps his eyes trained on the way your ass shakes gently with every swivel of your bouncing hips.

‘Thaaaat’s it… that’s my good girl’ he coos up to you with his raspy voice, admiring you from the back whilst you get off to him in the scissored seating arrangement.

‘Matt… this feels so good- please don’t… don’t stop…’ you whine through a moan, twisting your neck back slightly so that you can watch the way Matt’s mouth opens through pants, his cheeks pink with bashfulness as he guides your hips with his veiny hands. He hits all of your sweet spots at once this way.

‘Don’t worry angel face… m’not stopping until I make you cum the amount of times I made you cry…’.

•Eighth grade•

Matt and you are 13 now. Both going into eighth grade. Matt had been away at a summer camp all break and within that expanse of time you had developed a bit, both inwardly and more importantly… outwardly.

When you both return to school he isn’t quite expecting the sudden change in your appearance and he wonders how someone could morph so much in such a small amount of time… Going into your teenage years is certainly a perilous time for both of you because for one, your bodies are changing and your hormones are only just starting to activate properly, and two, Matt is finally getting to understand that possibly… affectionate feelings of his turn into acts of bullying when he likes someone.

That someone being you.

Matt’s 13-year-old self stands there, with gangly, growing limbs as he quietly ogles at you from afar, feeling awkward and self conscious in his own teenage boy body. What are these fucking feelings? Why are they so confusing? And why can’t they just leave him alone?

He watches you walk down the corridor towards him, his heart nervously thumping in his chest. He thinks you’re going to just walk past him, until he sees that you’re walking straight for him instead. He freezes, and almost pisses himself in fear with his fingers twitching and his eyes widened.

Quick Matt, think of something mean to say to her before it’s too late.

‘Excuse me’ you say bravely, trying to force down your nerves in front of a Matt, who clearly came back from summer camp with a gorgeous tan, his also usually dark brown hair bleached slightly lighter thanks to the sun. You thought it had been odd when his blonde hair back in first grade had slowly started to darken until he had turned into a brunette, but now you were used to it.

‘What?’ Matt mumbles, a little spaced out.

You raise your eyebrows at him. ‘Um… you’re standing in front of my locker I think’ you say, scared as to why he could be standing in front of your locker. Matt tried his hardest to shove down any nerves in front of you before scoffing and stepping to the side. He rolls his eyes.

‘Oh great, more than a hundred lockers in school and I get stuck next to yours’. Ah, so that’s why he is standing here… his locker is right beside yours. Great. You wince. You anticipate a mean comment from him every time you interact with him, but it doesn’t get any easier taking it. Guess that summer camp spirit he would have been surrounded with didn’t change his tune as much as you had hoped it would have.

‘Believe me, I’m not happy about it either’ you spit back, and shove past his lean figure to get to your locker. You start to put in your combination.

Matt blows a huff of air from out of his lips, crossing his arms and fidgeting about awkwardly behind you.

‘Knowing- knowing my luck… I’ll probably get stuck in the same class as you too’ he stutters, inwardly scolding himself for literally losing the ability to summon his normally quick witted attitude. Instead he stumbles over his words like an idiot. You only shake your head and sigh, shoving a note pad into the metal compartment before slamming it shut and re-locking it. ‘Whatever Matt’ you scoff and strut away, leaving Matt almost gripping the wall and heaving a sigh of relief when you’re gone.

But then later that day, it really is just your luck. Because both you and Matt end up walking into the exact same math class together, the two of you collectively sighing, but for vastly different reasons.

•Now•

‘Fuck you always feel so good’ Matt whines deliriously. ‘You’re perfect… just perfect for me’. The air around the both of you is hot, your skin rough and sticky with sweat whilst the sound of the bed squeaking underneath your bounces harmonises with your moans. You feel like crying in ecstasy, you love it when Matt’s cock makes you feel so full, because it helps to sate your appetite and you look forward to him coming around everytime he texts that he’s going to drop by.

You are so fond of how mature he is, how old he looks. It makes you squeeze your thighs together. And now he grows his beard out just for you because you say you like it so much, until it gets a little too long and he has to shave it again. But whenever it’s at that perfect stage, he always spends multiple nights around at your apartment, just so that you can utilise it. Matt doesn’t mind, he fucking loves it. Anything to make you happy.

‘I’m… I’m your good girl’ you breathe back to him, his thigh now almost soaking with sticky precum and spit whilst you grind you clit onto him and ride his cock simultaneously. ‘You’re my good girl’ he responds back reassuringly, the possessiveness in his tone only making you squeeze around him more. He doesn’t bother to bite his hand to hide his whimpers of pleasure because he knows you deserve to hear them, deserve to see the way you make him feel after all of these long winded years of unsolved feelings and pain.

You swivel on him a little longer, your tits bouncing rhythmically before pressure knots your stomach tightly together. Your mouth hangs slack as your shoulders heave more than normal. ‘Baby… baby I think I- I’m gonna cum’ you utter a high pitched breath to him, and he nods, rubbing his thumbs over your ass cheeks comfortingly as he helps speed you up a little faster. It drives him fucking feral when you call him baby, because he’s so fucking selfish and possessive over you.

‘Go on angel… cum all over me like a good girl’ he states once again, which is enough for the tight tension within your gut to snap. Waves upon waves of euphoria rush all down your thighs, your high lasting for a good while. Within this time, Matt’s breath similarly hitches, and it’s not long before he’s creaming his load into you too, ropes of cum dripping down your walls and around his now extremely slimy member whilst he thrusts you into oblivion and exemplifies your orgasm.

After they are over, you messily collapse backwards, your chest heaving thickly as you laugh. Your sweaty skins lies flushed against Matt’s whilst you rest on top of him. He smiles gently at your little giggle before scooping his arms up to tuck them underneath your tits. Using his upper body strength, he gently slides you up his torso a little farther so that he can cuddle you into him closely. He kisses your head gently, before moving on to kiss the shell of your ear as well. In doing this, his cock is slowly removed from your spent hole, allowing you to both relax in tired exhaustion.

Matt closes his eyes whilst nuzzling his nose into your hair. You delicately place your hands onto his forearms that wrap tightly around your chest. You stare at the ceiling before mumbling ‘who would’ve thought…’ down to Matt, who simply grumbles in questioning from below you. ‘That the guy who I thought used to hate me ended up in my bed a couple of years later’. You snigger and Matt smacks his lips, opening one of his eyes to turn and peek at your side profile from below you.

‘I never hated you… not really…’.

oa: @gamermattsgf

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bokutosbiceps · 1 year ago

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look at you

jealous!dazai osamu x f!reader | smut | 1.7k words

summary: dazai finds you, a drunk mess, flirting w chuuya while on one of your rare date nights. dazai comes up with a way to show you who you belong to.

warnings: drunkenness/inebriation, sex in front of a mirror, vaginal sex, cockwarming, thigh riding, cream pie, dirty talk, degradation, mild cursing, possessive behavior

a/n: oh, how i wish to be in this situation 🥺

18+ MDNI

Dazai tapped his foot against the carpeted floor of the jazz club, watching you from where he sat in the booth that he reserved for just the two of you. You were across the large, dimly lit room, at the bar, your hand lightly touching the red-head’s arm and your breath, undoubtedly stinking of the wine that Chuuya had sent over to your table, fanning across his face. Chuuya indulged in your touches and breathy whispers, truthfully only to piss Dazai off, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love the attention from a beautiful woman such as yourself.

Dazai narrowed his eyes at his former partner in crime as he watched him place a hand on your hip and trace an unknown pattern down your thigh. Dazai got the memo. You were drunk and Chuuya was trying to piss him off, but that didn’t stop Dazai from feeling a bit jealous. And he hated that he let himself feel this way.

Chuuya smirked once he noticed that Dazai was watching, moving his hand down your hip and to your ass, all while nodding sincerely at what you were saying.

“And he’s just so cute, y’know?” You whined softly, “Sometimes I just wanna take his stupid, beautiful, dumb ass face in my hands and kiss him all over.” You pouted once you realized Chuuya was looking elsewhere. “Can ya listen to me? ‘M gushing about my feelings, over here.”

“Yeah, yeah, we all know how much you love that bastard.” Chuuya’s smirk deepened. Oh, if only Dazai knew who you were talking about while pressed up against another man. You turned your head to follow Chuuya’s line of sight but Chuuya quickly and smoothly reached to cup your cheek, successfully bringing your attention back to him.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Your pout seemed to be cemented to your lips. Chuuya snorted a wry laugh and leaned in closer to you, letting his eyes flicker back over to where Dazai was sitting. Where Dazai had been sitting. He was now up and strolling over to where you and Chuuya sat at the bar.

“Listen, doll.” Chuuya lowered his voice to a whisper, demanding all of your attention. Your eyes were wide, cheeks rosy, and lips parted in anticipation. For the first time in his life, Chuuya felt a spark of envy for Dazai; he truly was a lucky bastard. “You wanna know how you could show Dazai your affection?”

You nodded vigorously.

“Head home with him right now. I’m sure you’ve got a fun night ahead of you.” Chuuya released his hold on you and leaned back onto the bar just in time for Dazai to appear at your side. He cradled his wine glass, bringing it up to his lips to sip.

“Chuuya.” Dazai regarded the red-head, a smile on his face but eyes full of threats.

“Y/n was just gushing about you.” Chuuya drawled once he had finished his sip of wine. “Weren’t you, darling?”

“Oh, pet names! How cute.” Dazai quipped, wrapping his fingers around your waist and easily bringing you up to a standing position. “Honey, I fear you’re far too drunk to be around Chuuya. We’re going home.”

You let yourself be squeezed into Dazai’s side, laying a hand across his chest and peering up into his eyes. They were calmly looking back at you, but a part of you felt like you were in danger. The thought alone sobered you up in an instant, although your head was still swimming from the alcohol, and you felt your face heat up.

You squeaked out a farewell to Chuuya, which Dazai did not reciprocate, and you were out into the brisk evening air, which did its job of completely sobering you up. The cold threatened to nip at your skin, but Dazai had already taken off his coat and draped it over your shoulders, quickly moving to replace his hold on your waist once you were warm.

The walk to your shared apartment was silent, save for the taps of you and Dazai’s shoes against the pavement.

“Are you mad?” You tested the waters once Dazai had slid the key into the keyhole of your door, hoping your voice was just soft enough to bring out any sort of affection from Dazai.

“Why would I be mad, sweetheart?” He held the door open for you to walk into your apartment first, before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him.

“Because I was drunk and may or may not have gotten too close to Chuuya.” You shrugged off Dazai’s coat and laid it carefully across the bed. The silence that enveloped you while you took off your shoes made you nervous, and your fingers trembled as you struggled with the zipper of your dress.

Dazai moved over to you and gently moved your hands out of the way, unzipping your dress in one languid motion.

“You were drunk?” Dazai accentuated the past tense.

“I mean, yeah, couldn’t you tell?” You laughed lightly, hoping to brighten the mood. You moved over to the full length mirror in front of the bed, getting to work on taking off your jewelry. Dazai once again brushed your fingers away and took it upon himself to undo the clasp of your necklace, and then your bra, and set them both on the bed.

You watched Dazai in the reflection of the mirror, shivering as two of his fingers hooked themselves in the hem of your underwear and brought them down your legs to pool at your feet. He placed a searing kiss to the nape of your neck, fingers lingering just below your navel.

“What a pretty little thing.” Dazai murmured against your skin, in between kisses. “I wish something as pretty as you could belong to someone like me.”

You rolled your head to the side, closing your eyes and indulging in the feeling of Dazai’s teeth scraping against your skin. “I’m yours, Daz, you know that.”

“Do I?” Dazai moved his fingers to your pubic bone, lightly caressing the skin there. Even though it was the slightest of touches, you couldn’t help but moan. “A reminder wouldn't hurt, hm?” Dazai mused. He moved his fingers lower until they were skimming over your clit, eliciting another moan from you. Dazai continued to run his fingers over your clit, gathering as much of your arousal as he could, while he worked on unbuckling his pants and letting them hit the floor.

He sat down at the foot of the bed, guiding your waist to make you sit down on his thighs. He hooked your legs around his and spread his legs so that yours spread to, exposing you to the cold air of your apartment.

“Look at you, my little slut all opened up and leaking for me.” Dazai moved your chin so that you were facing forward completely, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. He brought up his fingers, webbed with your arousal, in front of your face. “This belongs to me.” He spread your pussy lips to show your clit and the pink of your vulva, as well as your leaking entrance. “This too.” He placed another kiss to the spot between your shoulder and neck, sucking for a bit before pulling away.

The teasing was getting to you, and the only thing on your mind was getting fucked by your lover until you couldn’t walk anymore. You tilted your pelvis down and began to slide your pussy against Dazai’s thigh, softly whimpering at the pleasure from the contact.

“Is my little slut desperate for my cock?” Dazai smiled sickly at the jolty movements of your hips grinding against his thigh. You managed to whine out a confirmation. “You know I can’t resist my needy little whore.” Dazai grabbed your hips and coaxed you to stand up before bringing you back down on his cock.

You hissed at the sensation of being stretched out by him, your walls squeezing around his cock to try and find some stabilization.

“The way you’re squeezing me, honey, that belongs to me, too.” Dazai’s hands moved up to your chest, squeezing and pulling at your nipples while allowing you to warm his cock.

“Daz…” You huffed out. “Please…move.”

“You want me to do what, sweetheart?” Dazai continued to pinch at your nipples with one hand and moved his other hand down to start rubbing at your clit. Your pussy squeezed down on his cock from the stimulation and it was his turn to moan; he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold out.

“Fuck me, Daz. Please.” You begged, opening your legs to allow Dazai’s fingers as much access as possible to your clit. You dared not look at yourself in the mirror, since you could imagine you’d only see the desperate mess that you currently were.

“Only if you can tell me who you belong to.” Dazai panted, trying not to focus on the feeling of your arousal running down his cock and leaking out around it.

“Yours. I’m yours, now please—” You were cut off by a strong upward thrust from Dazai, immediately seeing stars as the tip of his cock bullied your cervix. You had nothing to hold onto as Dazai thrusted in and out of you, and you briefly wondered if the vigor of his thrusts was going to make you fall down. The slight pain you felt on your hips from the bruises that Dazai’s fingers were undoubtedly going to leave reminded you that he wouldn’t let you fall off his cock. Not while he was fucking you like this.

The only sounds in the room were the squelches of your pussy milking Dazai’s cock, and your huffs combined with Dazai’s, until a loud moan finally broke the monotony when Dazai came. The feeling of sticky, wet warmth covering your walls had you cumming right after.

You were both silent as you caught your breath, Dazai’s cock still inside of you. You chanced a look at yourself in the mirror, unable to look away from Dazai’s cum leaking out of you. Movement behind you caused you to look up and your eyes met Dazai’s in the reflection of the mirror as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Look at you, you pretty little thing.”

“Your pretty little thing.”

#dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu smut #osamu dazai smut #dazai smut #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs smut

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dixons-sunshine · 3 months ago

Text

Make A Move | Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Summary: Murphy had liked you for years. However, he was always scared to make a move, too afraid that he’d damage his friendship with you if he made a move. Thankfully, a small push from his brother made him brave his fear, making for an unforgettable moment for the man.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 2.1k.

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble. I didn’t intend for it to be this long. However, my muse took this idea and bolted with it, and I let her do it because it rarely happens anymore. My first story in a while that’s longer than 500 words, and I’m proud of myself for it. Let’s hope the muse stays for a while so I can power through some requests. Anyways, happy Murphy Monday, my loves!

“If ya stare at ‘er any harder, you’re gonna burn a hole straight through her skull.”

Murphy jumped at the sudden, unexpected sound of his brother’s voice close to his ear. Some of his beer spilled out of his glass, trickling down his shirt and onto his jeans, making Murphy glare daggers at his cackling brother. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, but it is!” Connor laughed and shook his head, slapping his knee just for the dramatics—and to piss his brother off even more, because he found it rather amusing. “You’re so lovestruck, starin’ at her, you haven’t even heard a single word I’ve said these last fifteen minutes.”

“Of course I’ve been listening,” Murphy tried to defend himself while placing his beer glass on the bar’s counter, trying to dry the wetness on his shirt.

Connor snorted in amusement. “Yeah? Then what was I busy sayin’?”

Fuck. “Somethin’ ‘bout...” Murphy trailed off, trying to hone in on his ‘twin power’ to see if he could read Connor’s mind.

“About Y/N...” Connor began, waiting to see if Murphy would catch on to his ruse. However, much to Connor’s great amusement, he didn’t catch on at all. This is going to be great, Connor mused silently.

“Yeah, about Y/N! ‘Bout how she...”

“She looks...”

“Yeah, she looks...”

“Real cute in that dress.”

“Real cute in that dress!” Murphy finished as if knowing exactly what Connor had been talking about. However, Murphy quickly realized that Connor had set him up, and he punched his brother’s shoulder in a weak attempt at retaliation. “You’re a real dick, y’know that?” he grumbled in annoyance.

Connor doubled over with laughter, nearly spilling his own beer. “You’re just so gullible sometimes, brother.”

“I hate you,” Murphy retorted, picking up his beer and taking a big swig from it. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Murph, you can’t say that about your brother.”

The sound of your beautiful, angelic voice reached Murphy’s ears, and he almost spilled his beer again due to being startled—again. He looked up and locked eyes with you, his cheeks flushing at the radiant smile you sent his way as you wiped the countertop in front of him.

“Aye, tell him, las,” Connor laughed, wrapping an arm around Murphy’s shoulder and lightly shaking him. “Tell him he’s bein’ mean to his dear brother. Tell him he needs to quit or otherwise he’s gonna hurt his brother’s feelings.”

You rolled your eyes at Connor’s words, a small, light laugh escaping you. “Yeah, what he said,” you ‘agreed’, placing the rag down behind the counter and leaning on top the wooden surface. “Can I get you boys anything else?”

“Nah, I’m alright. Pretty sure Rocco already ordered me somethin’. I’m about to wipe the floor with him once I beat him at that.” Connor motioned over to the pool table. He took the final swig of his beer, placed the glass down on the countertop and sent you one final smile, before looking back at Murphy with a look that the other twin knew clearly meant “this is your chance. Don’t fuck it up.” With that, Connor walked away, leaving Murphy alone with you.

Murphy shook his head and toyed with the rim of his beer glass. It was no secret to anyone—except you—that the MacManus brother seated at the bar was head over heels for you. However, as flirtatious a man as Murphy was, this was different. You were different. You weren’t just some random lady he wanted to charm to get her number or something along those lines. He had known you for three years at that point in time. You had become one of the most important people in his life, and he greatly valued your friendship. If he were to ask you out and you happened to say no, would your friendship be irrevocably damaged? Would you cast him out of your life? Would he ever be permitted to even breathe the same air as you?

“You’re thinking really hard, Murph. Penny for your thoughts?”

Your voice reached Murphy’s ears, and he wished that you would never stop talking. He could listen to you ramble on forever. Your voice was so addictive to listen to. However, he quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts, reminding himself that you had asked him a question. “I’m alright, las. Just thinking.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” you giggled, unknowingly making Murphy’s heart leap at the beautiful sound. “What are you thinking about?”

Murphy shrugged and looked down. “Nothin’.”

“You know, people can’t usually think of nothing, because the human brain, according to what I know, is incapable of comprehending nothing. When you think of nothing, you see black, a void, right? Therefore you aren’t technically thinking of nothing, because a void is still something.” You let out a small laugh at the confused frown that spread across Murphy’s face. “Sorry. I just had to. It’s my favourite response for when people say they’re thinking of nothing. It confuses the hell out of people.”

Murphy chuckled and leaned his forearms on the counter. “Is that true? That whole thing you just said?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. I’m not a scientist,” you replied with a small smile.

Murphy chuckled again. “Could’ve fooled me. That sounds like something straight out of those science articles in the magazines.”

“Why, thank you. I am pleased to know that I am able to sound intelligent enough in the presence of true intelligence,” you stated in an over exaggerated posh voice.

Murphy frowned at that. “Me? Intelligent? Where’d ya get that from, las?”

You raised your eyebrows at that. “You’re kidding,” you laughed in a disbelieving tone. “You speak, like, two thousand languages fluently. How the hell’s that not intelligent?”

Murphy shrugged nonchalantly. “It isn’t that hard. You just gotta keep practicin’ ‘em consistently. It also helps that I’ve been exposed to those languages from an early age. Anyone could do it, though. Even you.”

“Yeah? Literally all I can say in another language is “bon appetite”, and the only reason I know what that means is because I took one semester of French back in high school.”

“That’s still impressive, though.”

You scoffed and shook your head with a smile. “No need to try and make me feel better about myself, Murph. I’m not trying to seek pity. I’m sure there’s something I can do that you can’t.”

Murphy smiled and nodded. “Yeah, there’s probably plenty of things you’re better at than me. Hell, I can think of one right now.” Murphy leaned back and stretched, his shirt riding up slightly to expose the skin beneath the fabric, and the man missed the way your eyes trailed over it, and the way you quickly averted your gaze when you realized what you had been doing. “You crochet, right? I’ve tried that before. All I managed to do was somehow poke myself in the eye.”

You giggled at that. “One point for me, I guess, and a hundred points for you, still.” Before Murphy could protest and reassure you that you were indeed talented and that you could do things he couldn’t, you moved on. “But enough about that. What were you and Connor talking about before I came over? I heard my name being mentioned.”

Murphy’s eyes widened at your question. What the hell was he supposed to say? Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? Should he make up an excuse and hightail it out of there? However, Connor’s look from before, the ‘don’t fuck it up’ look, appeared in Murphy’s mind, and he sighed. There was no time like the present, he supposed. Might as well test the waters and see where he stood with you.

“Connor was teasin’ me, las, ‘cause I was busy starin’ at ya,” he admitted quietly, his cerulean eyes staring into yours, anxiously awaiting your reaction.

To say you were shock would be the understatement of the century. Your eyes widened at his admission, your heart beginning to pound out of your chest. However, you tried to school your expression to a more neutral one, attempting to hide your nerves—and excitement. “You were staring at me?” When Murphy nodded, you inhaled once, scraping together the confidence for what you were about to say. “You like what you saw?”

Be cool, be cool, Murphy thought to himself, trying not to expose how nervous he actually was. “Oh, I love what I see.”

See. He had used the present tense. It could’ve meant nothing, but you clung to the hope that it meant something. You locked eyes with him, a small, flirtatious—well, you hoped it was flirtatious—smile spreading across your face. “Yeah?”

“Aye,” Murphy nodded. You weren’t repulsed by his ‘advances’. He took that as a good sign. “I always love what I see when it comes to you, las. You’re a beautiful lady. I could stare at ya for hours.” You giggled shyly and ducked your head, making Murphy smile affectionately. “And that’s the truth. You know I hate lyin’.”

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. With each compliment he gave you, your confidence grew immensely. “You’re not too harsh on the eyes either, Murph,” you replied jokingly. That was an understatement. He was damn pleasing to look at. You could stare at him for hours.

Murphy chuckled at that. “That’s good to know, otherwise this would’ve been embarrassin’, me makin’ a move on a beautiful lady while lookin’ like a dried out pickle.”

Your heart both simultaneously sped up and stopped. Making a move. So it wasn’t just playful, flirtatious banter? You were immensely pleased to hear that. “You’re making a move on me?”

Murphy readapted his earlier shy demeanour. “Um, no. I don’t—” He cut himself off by taking a deep breath, before exhaling and continuing. He was already in too deep. There was no backing out now. “I mean, yeah. I am. I jus’... I’ve been wantin’ to ask you out for a while now, but I was too afraid. I’m sorry if that’s weird or anythin’, las. I didn’t mean to make ya uncomfortable. I can leave if ya—”

Murphy never got to finish his sentence. He was effectively shut up from his nervous rambling by your hands grabbing the lapels of his jacket, tugging him up from his seat to lean over the counter, your lips crashing against his for a kiss. This first kiss exchanged between the two of you wasn’t like the ones he’d seen in those cheesy romance movies Connor would sometimes force him to watch. It was sloppy and messy, yet tender and gentle, too. It was perfect.

Whoops and cheers filled the air around you, making you and Murphy pull apart. The two of you looked towards the pool table where everyone had gathered to watch Rocco and Connor compete, and saw that everyone’s attention rested on the two of you, and you quickly became aware that everyone had witnessed the kiss happen. The cheers and clapping proceeded, making Murphy duck his head as his cheeks became ablaze in embarrassment. You simply waved the men at the pool table off, rolling your eyes at them to mask the embarrassment you felt as well.

Game forgotten, Connor made his way over to the two of you and wrapped his arm around Murphy’s shoulder, lightly shaking him a few times, a huge, satisfied grin on his face. “Atta boy, Murph! I knew ya could do it.” His blue eyes trailed over to you, his grin now directed towards you. “Proud of you, too, las. I’ve known ‘bout your little crush on ol’ Murphy here for a while now.”

Rocco, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, hoisted himself up onto the counter and sent you a teasing smirk. “I’m surprised either of ‘em made a move. Thought we were gonna be stuck in an endless loop of lovestruck staring.”

As Connor and Rocco continued on with their teasing, your eyes drifted over to meet Murphy’s. He sent you a small, shy smile, his cheeks tinted with a crimson colour. You sent him a smile back, your heart fluttering in your chest. Let Connor and Rocco tease you for all you care. Your moment with Murphy was perfect, and it was an amazing turning point in your relationship with the MacManus brother.

Now all you had to do was wait for another minute alone, and then you’d definitely repeat your actions, albeit this time, away from prying eyes.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#murphy the boondock saints #murphy macmanus x female reader #murphy x reader #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus x fem!reader #the boondock saints #boondock saints #norman reedus

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jinkiezzsstuff · 9 months ago

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Rivalry To Romance

velvette x f!reader

Summary: You worked in cosmetics at the Vee tower alongside Velvette, unfortunately you’ve never gotten along. You found her obnoxious and she found you to be a pest. However you struggle with yourself on whether you truly hate her or just can’t accept your true emotions.

Warnings: Fem reader, reader throws things again so does velvette, valentinos presence yuck, suggestive but nothing serious. No mention of readers hairtype, bodytype or skin colour, shorter than i originally wanted womp but I think that’s it but lmk

Word count: 2.5k

we need more velvette i love her so much and there’s like no info on her character or back story at least that i could find woomp womp im trying clear up what i have drafted but sheesh im so picky and a perfectionist about it i wish i was a writing machine that it could come directly out of my brain like i see it y’know?

“I fucking hate her!” You screeched tossing make up across the room at your assistant. “Please, calm down, my head hurts.” Angel whined from your couch as you paced around him, your assistant booking it after the second thing, that being a vase, was thrown.

“I can't, she's intolerable, seriously. A brat.” You grit plopping down onto the cushion beside him. The two of you were in the Vee tower, you being what Velvette would call ‘the shadow of the vees’, you got in on the triangle based on accessibility; for the Vees that is. You were a cosmetic creator and produced varying products for demons of all kinds, not only was it beneficial for Valentino's pornstars but Velvette’s models.

When you were a self employed business it was still very lucrative, and getting around quickly. Gaining the opportunities to work with overlords, sinners you never expected as well as selling and gaining quicker than you could’ve imagined. It wasn’t long until Velvette had caught onto the rage, and that’s how you ended up in the tower working alongside her.

It was terrible from the start; you weren’t some meek little demon, yet Velvette treated you like you were some Imp! You hated her bratty, disrespectful loud mouth and you never failed to let her know.

BIting your nails down too low without realizing, Angel grabbed your hand successfully stopping you, and leaned forward. “Hey listen I know how it is to have a sucky boss. Heh, literally.” Angel snickered to himself while you muttered that she wasn’t your boss. “But if i’m being honest, it sounds like sexual frustration,” He twiddled his fingers at you while a sly smile pulled at his lips.

You gaped at him, head falling forward in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me, hah, no fucking way dude!” You exclaimed, leaning back, you sighed frustrated at the conversation. “Oh shit, gotta go toots, boss is calling. Thanks for letting me up, see ya later.”

You waved by to Angel watching him go. Sitting with your elbows on your knees you stared off into space. Sure you suppose you admired her, sure, she was pretty, occasionally sure you’d check her out admiring how the clothes fit her, but that was purely platonic! Velv was a fashion designer, of course she knows how to accentuate her natural beauty.

And perhaps there were times when you couldn’t quite decide what you felt for her questioning your intentions second guessing your actions. Sometimes as you gazed at her while she worked, you wanted to ease her up a little, relax her from the stress whether that be from praise, a gentle rub or kiss, or something a little more promiscuous; you simply wanted to be her relief.

Other times you wanted to fight her and bitch her out, and then fuck her? You actually didn’t know and it drove you insane, but Angel was the first to spot the way you acted, overly aggressive.

You groaned, frustration emitted from you very clearly as you tugged at your hair. Standing you walk quickly toward Velvette’s and yours’ work sections on the tower's mid floor. Velvette stood at a table when you walked in, she only barely turned her head to you, too busy studying fabrics and colours.

“What’s the pretentious brat got cooking today?” You say walking up beside her looking down at the table. Rolling her eyes she turned to you hand on her hip. “Can you piss off? I’ve got shit to do, real work, not lazing around with a whore.”

Rolling your eyes right back at her, you looked down to the table. “Angels no more of a whore than that filthy moth.” You muttered fingering the fabrics, eyes dancing around the blueprints for an outfit.

“What’re these for?” You ask, meeting her gaze, a bored look plagued her face, but she loosened up slightly at the mention of her work. “These are the new blueprints for our outfits for the upcoming broadcast Vox has planned. He wants to market tech, pornos, clothing and your cosmetics so everything’s gotta be right.”

Velvette looked down harshly at the things laid out in front of her, you could see the gears working in her head as her eyes flicked around the different blueprints, fabrics and rough drafts. You hummed, flicking through a particular set of blueprints that caught your eye. “I’m sure you’ll do great hun, always do.” You muttered absentmindedly, barely focusing on the praise that came from your lips.

Velvette’s head jerked back a bit, eyes watching you. She wasn’t expecting such softly said words to come from you so suddenly, but she definitely didn’t mind it. “Do you want something specific?” Looking toward her you shrugged, trying to ignore the yearning you had to be nearer.

“Just a dress, suppose the only request I have is that I look the part.” You didn’t mean for it to come off sad however, it did, and Velvette felt the rare sting of guilt ping past her heart. She was in fact the one who fought with you the most on who was worthy in the tower, but she always felt you were trying to replace her as “the guru”.

The fight you had earlier was present in your mind as you stood there, it was dumb another thing that sent you spiralling. You stomped off and straight into Angel, thank goodness for that because his presence calmed you surprisingly. The fight was about time slots with models, mainly because one model had been held up by Velvette because she was being a snooty princess again about what the model wore, meanwhile time was ticking on how much time you had to do said model's makeup.

Which ended up spiralling into a screaming cat fight, where you tossed things at her and she tossed them back slinging a slew of colour insults at you as she did so. Normally you and Velvette never apologised but as you stood there beside her looking over stuff you felt as though the moment of peace was close enough to an apology.

“Do you really wanna go to this?” You asked breathing in deeply, catching hints of her perfume that left a warm familiar feeling in your chest. “Hm not really, but we have to.” Picking up navy blue colours, she stacked the square fabrics together.

Swallowing you ask; “What’s your favourite colour?” Stunned Velvettes hands stalled their actions, her eyes meeting yours. You were waiting looking neutrally at her, you simply wanted to know. It was easy to see Voxs was arrays of blues, Val’s pink and red, you fancied emerald and sea greens, and her.. you didn’t know, hot pink?

“I fancy whites, purples, plums…” Trailing off finger to her mouth in thought, she nodded one sternly. “White and plum.” You smile ever so slightly it was a decent conversation for sure. But it definitely didn’t help you inner fight about your feelings for her.

Today was the day of the broadcast, the lot of you ventured to Valentinos floor of the tower, doing it up for a big show. There were tons of tables set up, lighting, cameras; the porn stars were done up thanks to you and Velv, they sat on a plush couch their section was going to be an ‘interview with the stars’ no doubt being entirely fake lies. Angel was a part of the cast, much to your dismay, you’d rather him be far from Valentino, but that wasn’t possible. Another area was new improved tech, with tech nerds ready to present and push the new models Voxtech had made.

Off to the back was Velvette’s section where various manikins stood cladded in Velvette’s best work, there were also models present around waiting to pose with the manikins. Your area felt blander than the rest, your cosmetics sat on varying different platforms that lifted them aesthetically, and you had a few head models with you, cameras focused in on only their eyes and lips for the occasional shot. In the middle of the room was where you, Velvette, Vox and Valentino would be.

The lot of you were going to be standing tall with wide smiles, the only one who was set to talk was Vox, the rest of you were just their to claim name to your things. Velvette was running around taking Sinstagram stories and pictures of everything around, building anticipation and hype for everything to come.

You watched her bounce around every now and again yelling at a worker or model about their place here, before getting back to puttering around. She wore a white dress with hearts at the bottom, and her hair was done up in a classic poof instead of her straightened pigtails. “Admiring the goods?” Angel asks, scaring the shit out of you, gasping you grabbed your chest in shock. “Fuck Angel don’t do that to me, and ye- wait what?”

Angel cackled an accusatory finger pointed to you. “Oh cmon! Even Val knows you’re into her, and that’s him.” You stared in disbelief before shaking your head no rapidly. “How would he even know? We barely spend time near each other, I hate him more than Velv.”

Angel scoffed, crossing two sets of his arms he leant against the wall next to him. “Please Velvette’s always ranting about how annoying you are over the phone, telling Val when Vox is probably too sicka her to hear it! Then she goes off saying how you can’t be nice and how you always make it a mission to come and pester er’ and Val said it’s because you wanted to fuck her!” Angel exclaimed slyly leaning forward into you and than backward away.

“That’s not true, we just can’t get along.” Like the devil heard your words, Velvette skipped up to you three, pulling the two of you into her. “Alright! The bitches! That’s more like it!” Velvette shouted, snapping a picture, Angel defaulted to his actor ways posing lustfully at the camera, meanwhile you just smiled unbelievably at Velvette. Once the picture was taken she wasted no time stepping back and sending off the post with a series of different hashtags.

“You look happy today?” You ask more than say watching Velvette smile around the room. “Of course people have stayed quiet, and not been a dickhead all day. Not to mention Vox and Val aren’t in moods.” You nodded in agreement, eyes casting briefly over to the TV who walked around checking the different cameras while Val smoked in the back.

Angel not so subtly snuck off giving your back a shove closer towards Velvette. Even if you could admit to yourself you felt more than platonic emotions for her, it would be extremely hard to accept it or attempt to make a move when you didn’t even know her sexuality.

She’d never seemed interested in Vox or Valentino, but you’ve not seen her eyeing women either. It made you more uncomfortable to ponder the future of accepting your feelings when you could just be cruel and ignore them. “What’s up with you spacey?” Velvette suddenly asked her phone off facing toward the floor.

You anxiously fiddled with your short dress wondering if now would be a good time to start something. “Nothing Velvette, just nerves i guess.” Velvette rolled her eyes, shaking her head disapprovingly. “You’ll be fine, always are anyways. We don’t do shit, it’s all Vox.”

Fair enough. Although that’s true it didn’t really matter considering it wasn’t what was really bothering you. “Are you straight?” You blurt suddenly, hand jerking upward to cover your mouth. Velvette’s eyebrow raised a ‘huh’ falling from her lips.

With a decision in mind, you couldn’t deny it, knowing that even Val saw something you know how you can’t hide it. The daydreams you have of her warm skin next to yours in the morning, the friendship you wish you had, the desire to have her lipstick smeared against your lips, wanting to post cheesy couple pictures together all over Sinstagram.

“Uhh, yeah, are you straight because I haven’t ever seen you around anybody, like, ahem, that.” You stutter out staring at her trying to gauge every little emotion on her face. “Suppose I could be considered, but i fuck who i want no matter the package.” She finally replied, returning to herself after spacing out, looking calmer than you.

“Would ya fuck me?” Scratching the back of your neck as her eyes scanned your face rapidly, trying to read you, trying to tell if you were serious. “Yeah, if you weren’t such a bitch.” You hum watching her once more, this time she looked a little meeker, shifting from foot to foot, her gaze casted downward.

“And what about love? Y’know not just wanting to have a hook up?” You asked a little apprehension evident in your voice, you craned your neck back trying to distance yourself subconsciously.

Softly you felt Velvettes gentle hand on your shoulder, focusing all your attention on her, you watched as her face turned out to the side, only looking at you through her peripheral. Her other hand crawled up to your other shoulder, before drifting softly to your neck, sending shivers down your spine and straight to your toes.

Velvette was still at fully extended arms length, so you stepped forward, cupping her cheeks gently like she was made of the fragilest material. Now eye to eye the two of you simply stared waiting, while invading eachothers space. Cautiously you leaned forward thankfully being her height, you hand your eyes closed already hoping she’d get the message, and either pull away running or indulge.

You were more than shocked to feel her lipstick covered lips meet with yours, soft yet eager. You kissed her back slowly, trying to convey the emotions and feelings you felt without speaking, the apology you wanted to say but didn’t know how.

Pulling you closer by the neck, you fell into her slightly, wrapping your arms around her like she was your world, fully absorbed in the passionate kiss you were sharing. Just as the kiss turned slightly heated, tongues introducing and slipping past the barrier of eachothers mouth Vox screamed. “You’ve got Velvettes makeup on your face, FUCK, why?! Why?! Five minutes before we’re live!” Jumping apart the two of you looked toward Vox who was already glitching out, meanwhile Val just stood smuggly sucking his pipe.

“Don’t worry he’s just mad that he now owes me one hundred dollars, losers weepers,” Val breathed his smoke wafting around the TV’s head. Velvette threw the bird at Vox before turning to you pulling out a handkerchief. “Weren’t you calling someone geriatric, now you’re pulling out handkerchiefs?” You teased, her hand coming up to wipe her black lipstick that stained your face.

“Oh piss off, or we’re both fired,” She scolded but there was no malice in her words like before making your heart flutter. “So how long before this gets out, our little before the air make out sesh?” You inquire as she handed the cloth to you, you wiping her smeared lipstick just as she did for you. “Based on the vibrations from my phone, not long.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel velvette x reader #velvette x reader #hazbin velvette #hazbin velvette x reader #velvette x you #hazbin hotel x you

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harvardhaugland · 1 year ago

Note

Never requested anything in my life but how about a scenario where the reader jumpscares either jamie, luke or bosch (in the rooftops, while playing a game or training) and gets a laugh out of their reaction and then they get reader back for it except it leads into something a bit spicy 😳

Love your writing so much, I'll eat up anything you put out fr

-@gourdkeeper (anon because it'd message from my main </3)

twister! - luke ♡

a/n: ok funnily enough i actually had written ab eerily similar personal fic to something like this execpt it was an oc insert + they were training instead HELPPP but omg… yas of course!!! i already have another jamie fic in the works so i feel like i gotta switch things up w/ luke 👆👆sorry ive been writing nothing but fanfic smut lately and its only bc literally half of my account is old amateur fluff hcs LMAO

not proofread bc… YOLO!!!!

You do this routinely thing of hanging out with each and every one of your masters, a whole schedule, specific times of days. On Monday mornings Chun-li teaches you skeet shooting, Wednesday evenings are reserved for baking with Manon, Saturday nights are best for alcoholic shot games with Jamie.

Sometimes simple, sometimes ridiculous. You’re a real people pleaser.

No matter what day though, you always find some way to squeeze in game-time with your first master— Luke, of course. The two of you hangout often, being intimate whilst also eating snacks and constantly bantering whenever you game. Tonight was different, instead of the usual Strawberry Fighter IV ranked matches, you had suggested playing Twister. Boardgames are just some “old-fashioned fun”, you told him.

You both had been playing for hours now, no breaks, your limbs entwining, you have your head underneath Luke’s chest, both hands on two dots just below his feet. He has his face pressed against your back, facing the opposite way.

Luke is no Ryu, that’s for sure. But you’d like to think he would be somewhat skittish around scary insects— so before he reaches for the spinner again, your fingers lightly tickle his leg, trying to imitate the feeling of something crawling up his leg. Quickly, you shout, “Is that a spider?” drawing your hand back quickly.

“What—!?” Luke immediately backs away, falling off the plastic mat, shaking and kicking his legs frantically, watching you slowly rise up from the floor, fists in the air.

“Gotcha!” you point to him, laughing, holding your stomach with a wide grin on your face. Never in your life would you believe that actually worked as well as it did.

He pouts. Standing up, crossing his arms, checking his legs one more time, just incase, “Aw, c’mon. You cheated!” he points back at you, “But aw man, that was a good one..” he quietly admits. One thing about him that you’re glad about— he doesn’t take things to heart.

“I’ll get you back.” he swears, a wide smile on his face. Seemingly riled up already.

Before you quip back with a sly remark, Luke charges at you. Pinning you down against the floor, sparking up a playful wrestling match. Your legs are beside his hips, Luke’s arms are wrapped around your waist and his head is snuggled into the crook of your neck. He’s squeezing you, trying to pin you into submission. You’re too flustered to even try to “fight” back, simply giggling, hugging around his body instead, trying to insinuate to him.

“You’re bad.” he whispers, quickly pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Were you just trying to get into my pants? You could’ve just asked, y’know. I’d gladly twist you into a pretzel myself—“

“Stop it, you cornball.” you joke, lightly tugging his head back. Luke starts to attack your neck with kisses. He’s quick to slide his hands underneath your shirt, feeling up your chest, moving his lips to touch yours, he’s more rougher and excited than usual. The days where you manage to get under his skin are the best.

He pulls you closer towards him, pressing your hips together, grinding his erection against you. You card your hands through his hair, he looks up at you with half-lidded eyes, mouth open agape, hot and bothered. He’s all of the sudden desperate to fuck you. He slides down your pants with haste, pulling down his own right after. When it comes to sex, Luke is way too excited, he’s often sloppy, messy as if he was actually inexperienced.

“You always look so good.” he says, pressing his fingers to your mouth, obliging you to open up, slicking his fingers with spit, sucking on his digits, muffled moaning as he continues to grind against you, pulling his fingers out.

Fucking on rooftops in the nighttime meant that you had privacy— but everyone could still very much hear you. So the two of you make a desperate effort to stay quiet, covering each other’s mouths everytime one lets out a particularly loud moan.

He makes it clear how badly he wants to be inside of you. He’s in a rush to use your spit as lube, teasing the tip of his cock into your entrance, closely observing your face for any sort of reactions as he slowly pushes in, groaning out in relief. Luke collapses against you, more licking and kissing all over your neck. Slow, hard thrusts rock your body back, he’s big, confident when he fucks, leaving you a sensitive, whiney, and needy mess everytime.

You want more, you beg for him, demand him to go harder, faster or slower. He obeys your every order, looking to please you, praise you.

“Luke,” you call out to him with a moan, “Close— so close.” you whine.

“Are you gonna cum? You just— god, you’re too good to me.” he groans, “I wish I could just fuck you all night, watch you get all shy for me.” he says, his thumb caressing your cheek. He’s hooked on all the noises you make, the little changes in your expression. It’s all too much, he feels you tighten around him, arching your back, pressing against his sweaty body.

“Good job, baby.” Luke pulls you into another tight hug, pressing a kiss to your neck, “Hold on, okay?” God, it seemed no matter how much you tease him, or how pent-up you’ll try to make him, Luke absolutely never would be degrading with you. When he speaks a constant flow of praises in your ears, the tone in his voice is shaky, so gentle with you, willing to keep going for as long as you cum.

You feel his cock twitch, his movements growing more sporadic, making the Twister mat underneath you two scrunch up and wrinkle, ruining the once wholesome little game. Luke lets out a relieved groan. His hips stutter as he cums inside, keeping you still against his pelvis, pulling out slow when he’s finished. “I’m still mad at you for cheating.” he jabs, sarcastic.

“Well, you paused the game last time I almost broke your win-streak! It’s fair game.” you reason.

#sf6 #sf6 x reader #street fighter 6 #street fighter x reader #luke sullivan #street fighter 6 x reader #dude im on a roll #i need more smutty luke fics that arent written by me now #PLEASE ILL PAY SOMEONE TO DO ITTTT

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crowborn666-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Lock Screen

Shinsou x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romantic, Crush in Denial

Summary: Mina finds Shinsou on your phone’s lock screen, and is determined to get to you to accept your feelings.

~~~~~~

It was breakfast, Iida and Bakugo making big batches of pancakes for everyone.

“Thanks guys!” You grinned wide at the stack of pancakes Bakugo handed you, earning a grunt in reply as he returned to the stove. Classic Bakugo, caring in his own way.

You sat down between Mina and Midoriya, and as you moved, your phone slipped from your hoodie pocket, clattering to the carpeted floor.

Mina was quick to reach down and pluck your phone off the floor for you, only to pause as she came back up, your phone lighting up from the movement.

Your lock screen was a picture of you and Shinsou, sitting on the school steps with a stray cat stretching across both of your laps. You and him had arrived early that day, as you sometimes do together. You liked to be early more often than not and Shinsou just couldn’t sleep.

Someone else had taken the photo and sent it to you, and at the time you thought nothing of it.

You’re quick to snatch your phone back, cheeks flaring with a rushed whisper. “Quit staring at my lock screen, Mina!”

“Do you like him?” Mina hummed, taking a bite of her food as you sat in your chair.

“Not in the way you’re thinking.”

“Are you suuure?”

“Yes!” You huffed, shoving a bite of pancake into your mouth so she couldn’t ask you any more questions.

You and Ochako did the dishes after breakfast together, and you somehow got into talking about crushes.

“So (Y/n), you got anyone you like?”

“Nope. No one’s really on my mind any more than the next person.” You replied, spotting bright pink appear in your periphery.

“You suuure?”

“Mina. I don’t like Shinsou that way.” You grumbled, trying to keep your voice low in case of eavesdroppers.

“What’s this about Shinsou?” Ochako piped up, looking between you and Mina as she dried a plate.

“(Y/n) has a picture of them and Shinsou as their phone’s lock screen!”

“Mina!”

“Oh how sweet!” Ochako chirped, “(Y/n), are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” You huffed, turning your red cheeked face back to the sink.

“Hey ladies.”

“Oh hey Shinsou!”

The world hated you. It had to.

“Came by to drop off my plate. Woke up late so I ate later than everyone else.” Shinsou had his dishes stacked neatly on top of each other, one hand on the back of his neck in that sheepish way of his.

“That’s fine!” You spoke up, hoping the red in your cheeks had died down as you waved him over, “I can take care of it for you.”

He hummed, moving to hand you his dishes, his fingers brushing yours. Then with a wave, he slipped out of the kitchen as Denki called out.

“Shinsou! Come help me kick Bakugo’s ass in Mario Kart!”

“What was that, Pikachu?!”

You shook your head from your place at the sink, scrubbing away at the last of the dishes.

You watched as Shinsou was up against Midoriya in class training, resting from your earlier bout with Kirishima. Pink appeared next to you, Mina sitting down next to you with a grin on her face.

“You’re staring.”

“A-Am not! I’m just… taking notes for future matches!”

“There’s nothing wrong having a crush, y’know.”

“Mina, I don’t—“

“Shinsou even likes you back.”

You paused then, mouth agape as you looked from Mina to Shinsou, who was ducking away from a punch from Midoriya.

“You think…?”

“Yeah I think! If you can’t tell him directly, I’ll help ya make a note or something to give him.”

“…Okay.”

Gosh your voice had gotten so quiet.

Mina gave you an affectionate punch in the shoulder, jumping to her feet as Mr. Aizawa called her up for the next match.

You could hear through Shinsou’s earbuds as you walked up to his desk, note in hand, Mr. Brightside reaching your ears.

It was the last hour of the day, so most of the class had free time to unwind or catch up on work.

Your nerves began to creep up on you, threatening to close of your throat and render you speechless. In a quick movement, you slipped the note face down on his desk, shuffling away back to your desk, the feeling of his eyes landing in your back.

You busied yourself with your phone as you sat down, glancing up past your hair to see Shinsou flipping the note over and beginning to read.

You watched as he took out his earbuds, head beginning to turn towards you when the bell rang. Clamor overtook the settled atmosphere of the room as students stood with their things, beginning to talk as they filed out of the classroom.

You stood with a small sigh, setting your things into your bag when a figure stopped at your desk, your card being placed on your desk.

On the unwritten side, in neat handwriting, was:

“I like you too. We share the same lock screen after all.”

Your head whipped up to face Shinsou, who was smiling warmly at you, presenting his lock screen of the same picture. The one with both of you on the school steps with the cat.

“Y-You like me too…? You mean it?” You breathed, meeting his eyes.

A kiss was planted onto your cheek. “‘Course I do.”

#mha #bnha #shinsou x gn!reader #hitoshi shinsou #mha shinso hitoshi #shinsou x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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theangelssing · 2 years ago

Text

Painting

Ben being Ben, gender neutral!reader, third pov, Ben & reader are a couple, Reader is friend with The Boys

warnings: physical touch (romantic way), fluff & soft mostly, domestic fluff

a/n: this imagine will have a next part, mention of The Boys, only based on the tv show! forget everything about the end of the boys and let’s pretend the boys and soldier boy are friends <3

prompt: You thought Ben was the kind of guy who doesn’t remember anything their partner talk about. But You were wrong, Ben actually does remember everything you’re talking about. Here’s the proof with a painting you absolutely loved.

“Luv, where did you see the painting you were talking about the other day?”

You looked at him with big round eyes.

“Can you repeat, please?” you asked.

He only entered the room but was surprised to see you looking at him like that.

“Uh,, I was asking you about the painting you were talking about the other day. Where did you see it?”

“You mean, the painting?”

“Well, I think so, yeah,” he answered, kind of disturbed by how you were acting. “Doll, you sure you’re okay?”

You didn’t reply straight away, you were trying to understand how he could’ve remembered this small detail.

“We’re both talking about the painting from the small gallery on the street the boys are staying?”

“I guess, yeah, I think so, why?” Ben was slowly starting to worry.

“I barely mentioned it, never thought it was that important for you.”

It was Ben’s turn to look at you with big round eyes.

“Luv, you were really excited to go there only for that painting. ‘course I remember it.”

“Well, true, but it wasn’t the most important thing we did the other day.”

“You said you wanted it in your house. It was important.”

You looked at each other, you still shocked and him still amazed by how you could imagine he wouldn’t have remembered that detail.”

“Anyway, I asked because the exhibition ends today and the owner wants to sell it. Do you still want it?”

You blinked before pinching yourself.

“Luv why are you doing that?”

“Who told you about that? I didn’t mention it!”

“Not to me but you talked about it with Hughie. I was there y’know, still have functional hearing. And a brain.”

“Yeah, right,, sorry. Just didn’t think you would remember that.”

“C’mon, let’s ask the owner so you can have your painting.”

You lowered your eyes, looking at the floor. Ben took your hands, he didn’t understand your brutal change of behavior.

“As sweet as it is from you to propose that, I can’t afford buying the painting,” you sadly said.

“Who said you will buy the painting?”

For the second time you blinked and looked at Ben with big round eyes. You stayed speechless while Ben was grinning.

“Doll, don’t forget who am I, please.”

“I don’t but,,”

“No but, you let me offer you that painting.”

He was strict but sweet as the same time. You still could make your own choice, of course, but you knew he was sincere so it wasn’t difficult.

“You sure? I don’t wanna,,”

“I’m sure luv, if I tell ya,” he replied softly.

You finally nodded and Ben knew it was your answer. A bright smile took place on his lips.

“Right, let’s get ready then.”

He kissed you and you only murmured a ‘thank you’.

“Of course luv, anything for you.”

Ben was hard sometimes, but with you he was gentle, patient. You were happy to be with him, and thankful to the boys for letting you be with him.

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ovaova · 2 years ago

Text

Oki I’ve never wrote on here before but this is just a thought I’ve had. Might have many typos but we’re just gonna ignore that 🤭 also nsfw and Bakugo is in his 30s so don’t come for me

Oki so imagineeeeee…

Airport Pilot Katsuki

Ik it sounds boring at first but just hear me out….

Okay so like imagine him being an airport pilot, cute uniform and all-

He looks so handsome in it too, CANT FORGET ABOUTT THE CAP OR THE WING PIN TOO

The uniform hugs him so tight too, especially in all the right places

Most def the best lookin pilot out of them all

He’s def one of those pilots who stand at the door and does that nod up thing to greet the people- 😩

(I’m bad at explaining but hopefully you get what I mean 🧍🏽‍♀️)

Anyways, he always goes with the navy blue suit with gold accessories and a black tie for his pilot outfits

NOT TO MENTION THW MATCHING EARRINGS CUSTOM CUFFS TOO

Kirishima is 100% his co-pilot, you already know

They used to be in the same class during flight school and at first, Katsuki ain’t like him- not one bit

But after being paired up enough, they got along 🤭

And omg lookkkkk, they co-pilots now 💕💕

Anyways, mans take his job VERY seriously. Wants nothing more than a smooth flight too and back or wherever the fuck he’s going- unless it has something to do with turbulence or a storm

OH YEAH- man fuckin hates turbulence…but who doesn’t?

Ofc he knows it’s unavoidable but he finds it more annoying than scary unlike Kirishima who always quakes but at the same time can you blame him??

“Goddamnit red, why are you shaking?? It’s just turbulence! You’re a pilot for fucks sake!”

“OKAY AND?“

I’m with Kiri on this one but anyways…

Yeah he takes his job really serious, he really don’t play Fr

But then there’s you 😍

You in your nice lil flight attendant outfit, aww 🥰

Yeah did I mention that you and Katsuki are dating 🧐🤨 yeah he’s your man mhm

And then you have Mina, Froppy, and Denki who are your coworker flight attendants, dream team Fr dealing with all those people

Okay but back to you and Katsuki, OUU you remeber when Janet said “anytime, anyplace” ? - Yeah that’s him 💀

AS SOON AS THAT FLIGHT LANDS AND EVERYBODY LEAVES THAT PLANE - ITS ON ❤️💀

Kirishima already knows that when Katsuki starts to take off his cap and jacket to “relax” , it’s time for him to leave asap

He’s already learned that the hard way 💀

It’s basically routine atp

Once the Passengers and yalls coworkers leave the plane, he’s already there waiting for you in the cockpit 💀

Mans is in his 30s but he will make do with whatever position he’s in

Mans really made you ride him in his seat 💀 WHERE HE CONTROLS THE PLANE????

In the aisle too 💀 he really does not care

But no it doesn’t end there, so Y’know how pilots/ attendants get a hotel so that they can get on their next plane/shift yeah?

Yea he always makes sure y’all get a hotel together whenever is possible and Jesus 💀

Man is making his time worth while while he can 💀

There is no use in leaving that hotel room either cause you’re gonna be too hurt to

But at the same time, can you blame him? I mean both of y’all sometimes aren’t able to get the same hotel together, y’all have to catch diff planes, and y’all both can end up super busy so 🤷🏽‍♀️

AND y’all gotta get up early, ya he’s trying to get all his rounds in before y’all separate again-

In the shower, on the bed, IN the bed, on the floor, against the wall, or anywhere else possible 💀

And then he will have the audacity to get room service just to fill up on energy again just for another couple of rounds 🧍🏽‍♀️

Yeah so that’s my take on Airport Pilot Katsuki 🧍🏽‍♀️❤️

#katsuki x reader smut #bakugo x reader lemon #husband bakugo x reader #Bakugo #bakugo x reader angst #bakugo x reader #first post #Pilot #mha midoriya #mha bakugo x reader #mha headcanons #headcannons #teehee

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bijouxcarys · 9 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 (𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Description: Sometimes the pain of what should have never been, opens your eyes to what can be.

Tag list: @celestial-dragoness @whothefuckisanja @chromations @firethatgrewsolow @tangerine1969 @callmethehunter @m-faithfull @strsmn @angrychicksposts @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul If you'd like to be added to the list, just let me know!

Elena’s heart pounded with an urgency that defied control.

Not a single utterance pierced the air during the entire journey with John, the car navigating a path all too familiar—an unwelcome route leading to a place laden with memories she fervently sought to avoid.

The nauseating grip tightened, every palpitation threatening to dislodge the contents of her stomach. Tranquility seemed a distant prospect, and the turmoil within her hinted at a precarious tipping point.

Endless scenarios paraded through her mind, a relentless procession of possibilities. She longed for simplicity—an in-and-out, a resolution neatly packaged and concluded. That’s all it needed to be. Yet, a deep-seated intuition whispered that simplicity would elude her. It would stretch, twist, and linger far beyond necessity.

In no way, shape, or form, would David entertain brevity. Not today.

Beyond the apprehension surrounding David’s reaction to this clandestine mission, to merely collect clothing and cherished mementos, there lingered a reluctance, a hesitant acknowledgement of John’s presence. Despite the depth of trust she held for him, a trust entirely unparalleled, it failed to nullify his actions when under the influence of either one of two things—alcohol, or emotion.

Elena had yet to divulge the whole truth about her tumultuous relationship with David, and wouldn’t until she never had to see the man again. John, though privy to odd reactions to loud noises and sudden movements, remained unaware of the intricate web of torment. If John learned the full extent of David’s malevolence, he wouldn’t be accompanying Elena to retrieve her belongings; he’d be behind bars.

In their childhood, it demanded every ounce of Elena’s energy to sway John from the precipice of violence. Those boys, stationed defiantly across the courtyard, seemed hell-bent on making it their life’s mission to underscore the fact that Elena wasn’t as thin as the other 14-year-old girls at school. A relentless daily reminder that required her utmost effort to dissuade John from unleashing a physical retribution that, in her eyes, wasn’t worth it. Every. Single. Day.

In a lot of ways, she would have preferred to relive the secondary school taunting than experience another 30 minutes of David. What John would do in light of knowing the whole story was a scary thought, and one Elena wasn’t prepared to even prosper.

“El?”

John’s voice brought her out of her head for a moment, and she realised they were pulling up outside the block of flats she hadn’t returned to in a fortnight. Swallowing thickly, she willed herself to look at him.

“Are you alright?” his brows narrowed, eyes gleaming into her soul. She gave him a pathetic nod. “Y’know I can always go in myself, if ya just tell me what to pick u–”

“No,” she shook her head. “I… need to do this.”

“‘Kay…” he reluctantly accepted, but quickly added, “I am comin’ in with you though.”

“John, you don’t have t–”

“I’m not arguin’ about this, Elena, I’m coming in.”

Before she could make any further comment, John was already opening the door and stepping out into the road. A whimper left her mouth, her hand a foreign entity as she, too, pushed the car door open. It wasn’t even that hot out, but the sun felt like lasers burning right through every inch it touched. Sturdy trainers felt flimsy, the gravel beneath her feet as blatant as it could get.

She felt she was walking The Mile to her death.

“Hey…” John stopped her as they reached her floor, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder to turn her towards him. Their eyes met, and his stomach dropped at the fear looking back at him. My God, she’s terrified… “It’s gunna be alright, El. I promise.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep…” she mumbled, her foot moving to take another step.

“I mean it.”

Looking back at him, she mustered up a grateful smile, and nodded slowly. “I know,” she whispered.

The air was thick as they reached the door marked ‘13,’ a feature she had once found excitement in—living in a flat with the same number as your birthday. Now, it just reeked of a hapless existence; a far cry from what used to be her sanctuary.

Do I knock? No, Elena, this is your home—oh, shit, it’s locked. Where’s that fucking spare key? She flipped over the doormat with her foot, expecting to see the familiar metal looking back up at her. Nothing. Fucking prick…

With bated breath, Elena lifted her hand and gave three experimental knocks to the door, each one ringing deeper and deeper through her ears. Please, don’t be home… What am I talking about? I need to do this now, I keep wearing the same two outfits, you idiot…

She daren’t look up as the door swung open. Instead, she fell eye-level with that stupid striped, skin-tight shirt that became a daily choice of clothing. In and out. Please. God, if you’re up there, just let this be simple. Please…

John stood by, arms folded, as the door opened, revealing the man he hadn’t seen since December. A tall fucker. Can’t have been any shorter than six-foot-four. And there Elena stood, a measly five-foot-seven in comparison. Shaggy dirty-blonde hair that bordered on a light brown, straight and perched just below his jaw. Parted at the side. Twat.

“Elena,” David sighed, instantly taking note of John’s presence behind her. “Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been worried si–”

“I don’t want to talk,” she told him, as sternly as she could. “Just came to get my things…” Without looking him in the eye, she squeezed past him. He looked over at John, his green eyes calm, before they narrowed as he turned to follow Elena.

“What the fuck are you talking about, ‘just came to get my things’?”

Elena sighed and spun to look at David, accidentally catching his eyes. The eyes that commanded her every move. Eyes she felt too worthless to meet. That’s because you are.

The click of the door shutting reverberated through the room, drawing their attention like a sudden snap of a whip. John, his gaze fixed with unwavering determination, stood his ground, sending a slow nod of reassurance to Elena.

“Did I invite you in?” David’s voice sliced through the tense silence, his words laced with thinly veiled hostility as he locked eyes with John.

“Nah, mate, you didn’t,” John replied with a nonchalant shrug, his gaze flickering past David to Elena. “I’ll be here, go get your things, El.”

David’s movements were swift, a blockade forming as he positioned himself to bar Elena’s access to the hallway. “Hold on a sec, darling,” he muttered, his voice a deceptive whisper as he edged closer to her, a somewhat predatory gaze fixed on her.

Elena shook her head, her eyes dropping to the ground as she struggled to maintain her composure. “Let me through, David. I’m getting my things, and I’m leaving,” she pleaded, her voice strained with emotion. In the charged atmosphere, she could sense David’s growing agitation, a palpable tension thickening the air around them.

John, alert to every subtle shift in the room, edged closer, ready to intervene if necessary. He noted the tightening of David’s fists with a sense of grim satisfaction, silently grateful for his own presence in that moment.

“Oi,” John interjected sharply, his voice cutting through the unease like a knife. “She said let her through, mate. You’re not makin’ this any easier by being a dick.”

Elena’s heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself for David’s reaction, her shoulders instinctively hunching in a familiar stance of self-protection. A heavy breath escaped her lips as David begrudgingly relented, allowing her to slip past him and into the bedroom.

In the sparse living room, devoid of any personal touches, John and David locked eyes in a silent standoff, each sizing the other up with cloaked animosity. David’s gaze raked over John’s form, his mouth twisting into a snarl of disdain.

“I don’t know what she’s been telling you,” David began, his voice dripping with forced calmness. “I don’t know where all this has come from, either.” He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to regain control of the situation.

“She’s not told me anything,” John replied evenly, perching himself on the pine table behind the swamp-green sofa that was most definitely not of Elena’s choosing.

“Bollocks!”

“Now, now, no need for the language,” John retorted, a hint of sarcasm colouring his tone.

David’s frustration simmered beneath the surface as he struggled to maintain his composure. “Look, we both know how she can get rowdy, and mouthy–”

“Naturally. I have known her since we were kids,” John interjected, his patience wearing thin as he pushed back against David’s attempts to deflect blame.

“You clearly don’t know her very well, then,” David shot back, his eyes narrowing in defiance as he locked eyes with John. “Now… I don’t want trouble with you, chief. But I think it might be best if you just leave our relationship alone.”

“What relationship?” John scoffed, his anger bubbling to the surface. “All I see is a controlling arsehole that, for whatever reason, has made it almost impossible for a girl to come and go as she pleases… Is that enough for your theory on why she’s getting as far away from you as possible?”

John watched as David’s face contorted with a mixture of disbelief and indignation, his resolve wavering under the weight of the drummer’s accusations. Taking a step closer, John met David’s gaze head-on, refusing to back down.

“She’s not going anywhere, Bonham,” David growled, his voice dripping with venom.

With a resigned sigh, John shook his head. “I think she is, actually, Henning…”

Elena emerged from the bedroom, a large bag slung over her shoulder and a cardboard box tucked under her arm. She glanced briefly at David, her expression a dangerous mix of determination and apprehension.

“What the hell are you doing, Elena?” David demanded, his tone laced with desperation. “You can’t just walk out like this. I’m all you have. Remember everything I ever told you? You’ll have nobody.”

Elena’s jaw clenched as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “I’ll figure it out, David,” she replied, her voice firm despite the tremor of fear running through her. “I can’t stay here… with you, anymore.”

David’s eyes narrowed once again, the mask slowly slipping from his facade. “You’re making a mistake, Elena,” he insisted, taking a step closer to her. “You need me. You need us.”

Elena recoiled instinctively as David reached out to grab her wrist, her heart pounding at an instant. “Don’t touch me, David,” she snapped with a panicked tone.

But David refused to release his grip, his fingers tightening around her wrist. Digging into her skin. “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, low and menacing.

With a surge of adrenaline, Elena wrenched her wrist free from David’s grasp, her movements quick and decisive—just like the night she fled. “Get off!” she spat, her eyes flashing with anger.

John stepped forward, a protective stance as he positioned himself between Elena and David. “Touch her again, and your jaw will be on the back of your fuckin’ head, you piece of shit.”

David’s face contorted with rage, but he held himself back, his fists clenched at his sides. “Fine,” he seethed. “Go then. But don’t come crawling back to me when you realise you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life.”

“No, the biggest mistake of my life was saying ‘yes’ to a drink 3 fucking years ago,” Elena squared her shoulders, her resolve unwavering despite the trepidation coursing through her veins. With one final glare at David, she turned on her heel and headed for the door, John following close behind.

As they made their way down to John’s car, Elena’s steps faltered slightly, her composure fluctuating with every passing movement. John cast a concerned glance her way, noting the tension in her shoulders and the haunted look in her eyes.

“You alright, El?” John asked softly, his voice tinged with worry as he took her things and secured them in the backseat.

Elena forced a tight-lipped smile, her facade inevitably crumbling as they settled into the car. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down her cheeks in silent torrents.

John reached out to comfort her, his hand hovering with uncertainty over her shoulder. “El, it’s okay, you did it,” he murmured.

But Elena recoiled from his touch, her eyes flashing through an uncharacteristic anguish. “J-Just… drive, p-please… I need to get… get away,” she panted, burying her head in her hands.

“Okay, yeah, okay…” he rambled, immediately pulling away from the block of flats.

On their journey back to the Bonhams’ house, John couldn’t shake the nagging feeling at the back of his head that Elena still hadn’t been entirely truthful regarding David. Seeing him grab her the way he did, her instantaneous reaction. There had to be something more. The Elena he knew would have spun around and clobbered the cunt in the face. Except, he reminded himself, this wasn’t his Elena. This was a shell of the girl he grew up with. And he vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to coax her back.

Elena felt sick to her stomach. Why do I feel guilty? There was nothing in the world she wanted more than for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She couldn’t understand why she was finding this moment so difficult, so distant from what she expected to feel. Shouldn’t she be joyous, over the moon? To finally be free of that monster that controlled her entire life?

David’s attempt to physically restrain her back at the flat was the furthest thing triggering her uneven emotions in the car. No, she’d learned to deal with that by now. Above all else, above everything she should have been upset over… she was angry. At herself.

Thankfully, the drive back to John’s was long enough for her to get a majority of her emotions out. Crying as hard as she needed. As loud as she needed. John was the only one she would let see her in this state. It had to come out now.

When the erratic breathing and sobbing had worn her out, leaving a red and puffy face in its wake, she was able to regain her bearings somewhat. As much as she enjoyed hearing John ramble on for what seemed like hours, she was glad he chose to stay quiet this time. He knew her well enough to know when’s the time to shut the fuck up—when to give her her space.

Upon passing the familiar petrol station, she knew they were almost back. All she wanted to do was pass out. Sleep forever—at least long enough to erase any memory of the past couple of years.

“‘M sorry…” she murmured, staring out the window, her eyes still glassy.

John glanced at her, checking in, before scoffing lightly and shaking his head. “You’re the last person who needs to be apologising right now.”

“No, I mean…” she turned her head in his direction, but kept her eyes on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry for snapping at you… earlier. And that you got caught up in–” her breath caught in her throat, “In all that.”

He chuckled airily under his breath, a somewhat amused smile on his lips. “And like I just said… You’re not the one who needs to apologise.” Stopping at a red light, he had the chance to look at her head-on. “Seriously. It’s okay. Everything’s gunna be okay, El.”

Upon looking up at his eyes, those warm, trusting eyes she’d found solace in for so many years, came the first wave of relief. A sudden realisation. Instead of David’s nagging voice in the back of her head, reminding her of her shortcomings, she heard a different one. A distant whisper from a fragile conversation she’d only ever had with one person.

You’ve done the hardest part…

No idiot would do something so brave…

With a shaky sigh, she nodded, smiling almost painfully at John. “Yeah…” she whispered her agreement. “Everything’s gonna be okay…” she repeated, almost as a self-assuring mantra as she looked ahead. “The light’s green,” she nodded her head towards the traffic lights in front of them.

“Shit,” John pressed down on the gas pedal, a comically panicked look on his face that made Elena stifle a small laugh. A laugh. A real laugh…

It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna be okay.

The air was lighter by the time they pulled up to John’s driveway, and it seemed the sun wasn’t as menacing as it was before. Catching a glimpse of Pat in one of the windows put yet another smile on her face, as if another reminder that there is life outside of David. He’d damaged her mind. Tainted all of her thoughts. It wouldn’t go away overnight, but being with the Bonhams was a refreshing prompt along the road to understanding she was free.

And she never had to see David Henning ever again.

“‘Ere, let me get that,” John offered, pulling Elena’s bag from the back of the car and slugging it over his shoulder. “Fuck, what do you have in here, the kitchen sink?”

Snorting, Elena lifted the box into her arms, nudging the car door shut with her knee. “It’s the jeans and those jackets, Bon…”

“Oh, those fuckin’ jackets are massive!” he gasped, as if he had forgotten.

“Yeah, but they look good on,” she smirked, watching her steps as they made their way to the front door. John’s face dropped a little when he tried the handle, finding it locked.

“The fuck’s goin’ on ‘ere…” Turning around abruptly, he almost collided with Elena. “Back door.”

“Jesus, do you mind not body slamming me in the process?” she mumbled, spinning round in the direction of the gate that led to the Bonhams’ back garden.

As they closed in, the familiar laughter of Jason could be heard, along with some clumsy clapping.

“Do it again!” The sound of someone’s shoes coming into contact with a football followed. Jason cheered again, his adorable cadence putting a smile on Elena’s face.

The smile, however, seemed to widen when she heard familiar laughter—and it definitely wasn’t Pat.

Rounding the corner of the house, the heartwarming scene of Jason kicking his football towards a carefree Robert unfolded.

“Again!”

“Can only do a single trick so many times, Jason,” Robert chuckled, but humoured the three-year-old, performing a brief dribble with a concentrated face. Far from a trick, but enough to mesmerise Jason in his innocent joy.

“Well if it isn’t Bobby Thomson,” John called out, catching the pair off guard.

Robert’s eyes went instantly to Elena’s, and he flashed that charming smile her way, before swiftly giving John attention. “Nah, mate, Thomson’s a left backer. I’m more of a Derek Dougan,” he said, attempting an Irish accent in the process.

“Who tha fuck’s Derek Dougan?”

Jason gasped, his presence momentarily subdued. “Mummy!” He ran inside, all whilst shouting, “Daddy just said a bad word!” Elena stifled a laugh, watching over her shoulder as his small form disappeared.

The blonde froze, giving his band mate a dumbfounded expression. “I don’t trust you anymore, Bonzo.”

Elena, with an amused smirk, glanced up at John. “Dougan’s a midfielder,” she let him know. John just simply let out an exasperated groan, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s also Irish…” She looked at Robert. “Hence the terrible accent,” she teased lightly. Her eyes still felt heavy from the car journey, but jesting with Robert came as naturally as breathing.

“I didn’t know you were into football, Elena,” Robert tilted his head to the side, hand on his hip. The small gesture and placement caught Elena’s attention, just like he had done at rehearsal. Everything about the man screamed appeal, in every sense of the word.

“I’m not,” she simply responded with a shrug of her shoulders. There was a pause between the three of them and it didn’t take very long for the two men to understand why Elena happened to know so much about football. She may have not been the one in her home—ex home—watching football, but she sure got a lot of it from David.

“Uh, I’m gonna take this inside before it cuts off the circulation to my brain,” John quipped, patting Elena’s bag. “Ya want a cuppa, Rob?”

Great, Elena, you’ve made it awkward now… Fucking idiot. You can’t say anything without fucking it u–

“El?”

“Hm?” she snapped her head to John. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I asked if you wanted a cuppa,” he repeated gently, a sympathetic gaze matching his tone. She gave him a passive nod, turning to follow him and Robert inside. Her fingers were starting to lock up from gripping onto the bottom of the cardboard box, so she instantly dropped it down on the kitchen table once they’d entered.

“What’s with the box?” Robert nodded towards it, casually nosing about in the kitchen with, yet again, his hands settled on his hips. The poor lad didn’t even realise how beautiful he looked as he inspected all the photos and magnets on the Bonhams’ fridge. Eyebrows all narrowed as he focused his eyes, a subconscious curling of his mouth that naturally stretched over his strong jaw.

Elena, pack it in. It’s Robert. Stop.

“Um,” she cleared her throat, resting a hand on top of the box. “It’s just got all these photos and random things in it that are important to me. Memories, I guess…” she trailed off.

“Oh, fantastic!” Robert chimed, hair bouncing about as he turned to look at her. “Got any embarrassing photos of Bonzo in there?”

She chuckled, glancing at said man, who was busy preparing tea. “None that don’t also embarrass me.” She carefully lifted the lid halfway off the box and strategically fished out a small stack of processed photographs that were a little worn by now, tied together by an elastic band. Robert’s footsteps came closer, until his presence was right next to her, the warmth radiating from his body.

“What happened to the corners?”

Elena pulled her lips into a tight line, eyeing the damaged corners of the lid of the box, darker than the rest of it, and requiring the utmost of care. “Nothing, just an accident…” she shrugged it off.

He peered over her shoulder, feeling a small jump in his heart at being this close to her again. He had to suppress the idiotic grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Her hair… Nothing appealed to him more in that moment than to run his fingers through it.

“Oh, this was when we went camping,” Elena smiled, holding up a photo labelled ‘Bon-Bon + El, Lake District, July 1964.’ “Bon had just finished school, so we decided to go up North for a couple of days.”

Robert tilted his head down to get a better look, snorting at the boyish expression on John’s face, equipped with the adolescent beginning stages of growing out a moustache. But the 15-year-old Elena made his smile soften. She looked happy there. Wrapped up in an earthy orange cardigan, stray blades of grass stuck to her legs from pitching a tent.

“Not that fuckin’ photo,” John whined, glancing over at them. “I look like a right knobhead!”

“Well, you always look like a knobhead, Bonzo,” Robert fired back with a smirk, looking back down at the photo. “It’s a lovely photo.”

“Eh…” she squirmed a little with a shrug. “It’s cute. John looks good in it, at least.” She carefully slipped it back in with the rest of the photos.

“You do, as well,” Robert gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow.

“Pfft, I look fat in it.”

John’s hand stopped mid-milk pour, eyes diverting to the side as he overheard Elena’s comment. Since when does she think she looks fat? Scrunching up his eyebrows, he finished making their teas. Even the comments from schoolboys didn’t influence her own perception of herself. Weird. But then, it hit him. Fuckin’ David…

“No, you look nice,” Robert refuted, shaking his head. A glance at her showed she didn’t believe him. “Seriously, yer cute.”

At the counter, John’s eyebrows raised, and a shocked smile appeared on his face. Well, shit, just jump right in, Percy…

Elena raised an eyebrow, looking up at Robert, who was still looking over her shoulder. Panic briefly flashed through his eyes and he chuckled airily, shifting back.

“It’s a cute photo, that is…” With a somewhat subdued smile, he went over to John to take his tea. Elena was left to mull over the minute interaction. Seriously, yer cute… No, it didn’t mean anything… Can’t have.

“‘Ere y’are,” John appeared next to her, offering her cup of tea. She gave him a smile in gratitude, immediately sipping at it, the fresh heat of it snapping her out of the overtime her brain had unwillingly subscribed to. “Anyway, why’re you here, Rob?”

“What, I can’t just come and see how you’re doing?” Robert squinted his eyes, shielding half of his expression with the mug of tea in his hand.

John stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions, totally unconvinced by his response. “You’ve just seen me every day for months, mate…” He watched as Robert came up with an unnecessarily detailed reason for his visit, claiming he wanted to see how Pat and Jason were doing, and how the house was… the fucking house. But when all was said and done, John wasn’t passive enough to miss the plain and obvious reason for Robert’s presence.

Elena.

But he’d let it slide. No need to embarrass lil Robert Anthony…

Besides, how could John ruin this moment? It wasn’t a foreign sight; Elena’s eyes often lit up in the presence of Robert, whether she realised it or not. He was a mere observer to a natural conversation about Robert’s hair. She commented on how it had grown out since she last saw him. How much it suited him. Shamelessly, yet subconsciously, lavishing him with small compliments as if they’d never parted.

Unlike his response to the hoards of girls who usually gave him such praise on the road, Robert seemed to reduce down to that teenage boy who saw Elena for the first time, as bright and radiant as any sunbeam dancing across the lilypad of an oasis. He’d take what he could get.

“Oh, there is a reason I’m here, actually,” Robert remembered, pointing his mug at John. “Uh, Jim and I are gunna head down to Snowdonia for a couple of weeks to work on some new material. Just thought, with us three being back together ‘n’ all, we could go out for a few drinks before I go?” He let the question hang in the air for a second, looking between the two of them in a patient standby.

John and Elena exchanged glances, as though telepathically asking each other’s opinion. Eventually, like clockwork, they both shrugged and nodded.

“Don’t see why not,” Elena softly accepted Robert’s offer, smiling up at him with a cadence akin to restrained excitement. “I mean… I don’t think I’ve actually been out for a nice drink in a… long time,” she huffed with a chuckle, attempting to conceal her melancholy recollection of the last time she’d had a good time with anyone at all.

Robert’s gaze softened as he picked up on her implication, sending her a sideways smile that ignited a warm buzz in her stomach.

“Well, this is your new beginning, El,” John started with his usual grin of reassurance. “What better way to kick it off with a drink with two of the finest men you’ve ever known?” He paused, glancing at Robert. “Well, one and a half.”

Robert sent him a jesting glare, but his mind, as prone to addiction as it was, stayed adhered to Elena, and the excitement it brung to accept his offer for a drink.

Even if it was dressed up as an innocent gathering of friends.

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sleepythemvp · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! Can you please do a headcanon on obey me the 7 brother with mc who has the same personality as onion cookie from cookie run pls. Like, shy, timid, crybaby and afraid of demons because of her nightmares. Always carry her plushie with her as a company.

<Well, i will give you my best try- since my grammar sometimes kinda mess up-

What if MC have the same personality as Onion Cookies?

Warning: Fluff, OOC, Crying and screaming! Yea bad grammar

OBEY ME!

Lucifer

Damn.

Yeaaa idk where to start, how about this? Can you imagine you, yourself just following his order because you scared of him

He look likes he could kill you at any seconds like- the sharp looking eyes ooh-

He just gonna make you sit on his lap while he doing those boring paper work

Asking how’s your day been and why are you have that lil plushy with you 24/7, etc etc, trying to make you feel comfortable

Tell you to have some deep breath when you just about to cry-

Oh hell- hug you gently and I CAN EVEN IMAGINE HIS LITTLE SMILE-

“Hey MC? Can you come here for a second?”

You following his words, come near to the table thats have a lot of paper, prepare to run at any seconds because you might gonna be his next meal in the following breakfast or lunch or dinner.

“W-well, what do you need?-“

You don’t even have time to finish your sentences. He pick you up and place you in his lap, you just look straight, asking yourself what in the devil is going on

“…um- i- why are you-“

“Are you comfortable?”

“Well yes..”

He start to asking you about your day, do you have any trouble, how’s what the meal, anything that make you uncomfortable, what is your favorite type of clothes, how many plushy do you have, how was your sleep, etc and etc-

And it seems like nothing else is going pretty well between both of you, you start to relax your body and mind, oh about the future! Its already up to you.

Mammon

This dudeee

Now we are talking.

GIRL/BRO- THIS CLINGY DEMON IS GONNA ASK YOU FOR YOUR GRIMM SINCE HE LOOK LIKE A ✨P L A Y B O Y✨ and you don’t want to get in any trouble or getting shatter because of him

“Can I touch your plushy” it’s definitely the first thing he will ask when you rush in your room when you doing your homework

Following you for 24/7

He will carry you to the bedroom since you pass out when you first arrived at Devildorm (CARRY TO TAKE CARE NOT THAT KIND OF BOOM SHAKALAKA YOU KNOW?)

“Hey ya MC! How’s the day?”

Fooking kick your door, you accident throwing one of your plushy because you was scared and start to screaming like crazy

Trying to keep you quiet and make you comfortable, because you’re standing on the wardrobe trying to defend yourself from him and sobbing at the same time

When you got down from the wardrobe, he just hug you and ruff your hair

“I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m here to protect you y’know?”

“O-oh, thank you”

And the you guys just chilling with each other, he will definitely buy something for you like, drink stuff, or just some snacks.

Leviathan

Since both of you are introvert- this is gonna be a pretty awkward moment

He just sitting in front of his pc and you just sitting in front of his manga collection

After like- probably- an hours or so, you guys finally start to speak to each other

“Hey MC! Check out this new anime, it’s really interesting”

“I- never seen anything like this one before!”

And then you guys just sitting on the floor and watching anime with each other. You just hugging your plushy meanwhile he just hugging his body pillow

TBC

<I’m sorry kinda busy lately- this is all I got for you guys atm:,D. Thank y’all for supporting me even though I’m still busy as heck<3 have a nice day, stay hydrated!

Slee is going to take a nap, brb.

#sleetheeels #obey me x reader #obey me #mammon x reader fluff #obey me leviathan #leviathan x reader #lucifer x reader fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon

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terrortwinss · 2 years ago

Text

Dallas Winston x fem!Reader

Written by Spiral

It was dark in Tulsa, Oklahoma and you were just about to go to bed after a long and boring day of hanging out with your friends. As you flipped the final switch to the bathroom you walked towards your room.

When you stepped inside your room you felt a cold shiver run down your back it felt oddly chilly inside your room as you walked over to the window to see if it was open, it indeed was. You look over the ledge and saw a slight spilt in it. It was broken.

As the realization set in that someone broke into your house you became highly alert and hearing the muffled noise of the closet opening didn’t help it you were to scared to turn around as you heard the soft thump of footsteps on the carpet floor. The intruder crept closer and closer ever so quietly.

When you felt their breathe on the nape of your neck you used every ounce of strength and forced your elbow into their side effectively knocking them down. You quickly turned around only to find the pretty face of Dallas Winston forced into the carpet as he tried to suppress the groans of pain as he held his sore side.

“Damn baby if I knew you were gonna do that I would’ve held you down..” he chuckled standing up with the walls help.

“How’d you even get in dal” you asked hands resting on your hips and a scowl on your face he didn’t even seem to care about you hating being scared as he sat on you bed, Dallas insisted on doing it every chance he got.

“Pried the window open with a stick” he answered easily, you sighed police record and all you could never really stay mad at him he had that affect on you the way no one could stay mad at two-bit for long you couldn’t stay mad at Dallas.

Though that didn’t mean you didn’t like fuckin’ with em.

You turned your back to him, giving him a petty version of the silent treatment.

“Aww,sweetheart you mad at little ol’ dally for havin a bit of fun?” He teased getting up from his spot on the bed in favor of resting his weight on your back.

“Dallassss!” You whined as he practically pinned you down against the wall with his weight. “Get off, ya damn ,asshole” as you were about to cuss him all to hell he slipped his hands up your shirt and gently kneaded your breasts together in a clockwork manner.

“Doll,y’know I hate it when you cuss at me like that..” he whispered in your ear “reminds me of my old man” he sneered taking a rough grip on one of your nipples, causing a startled yelp to come from you.

“Dally, easy baby that hurt.” You whined and he placed butterfly kisses in your neck “my bad, doll face” he let a teasing breathe leave his lips as he turned you around to face him. “My god” he said nipping lightly at your ear “what?” You said “you look so beautiful like this” he grinned his handsome grin.

You tilted your head down at the comment not use to being called such things yet. He made quick work with take your shirt off leaving only your bra and sweats he put his right under your butt making your knees go weak and give out. He caught you and hitched you up making you wrap you legs around his slim waist.

“Easy there doll I haven’t even started much yet” he said carrying you over to your bed dropping you roughly. “Jeez Dallas, rough much” you nipped secretly liking the roughness of the latter something about him treating you as if you would break didn’t always sit well with you, you sat up and undid your bra letting it drop in you lap before throwing it around the room somewhere.

Dallas had a slight tent to his pale cheeks making him look all the more cute not that you’d ever tell him that he liked to think he was the tuffest thing that walked out of New York and into Tulsa big, bad Dally as you continued you thoughts on your lover boy he was busying himself with kissing and licking up and down you chest and stomach sometimes it caused a giggle and other times it drew out quiet moans.

One particular kiss right above your pants got a loud and sudden moan out of you, embarrassment clouded your face when you realized the noise you made and Dallas drank it up. Teasing the spot more and more as time went on he made his way lower and lower down your body before taking your pants off as they were in the way of his work and progress.

“Don’t you worry one bit sweetheart imma make you feel real good tonight..” He mumbled before tossing the last of your clothes and his shirt and pants off leaving you completely nude and him in his tidy widies. He placed his hand on your boob before kissing you. Messy and wetly he slid his tongue along yours drawing out low moans and soft pants while he grounded his hinds into you in a way that made you throw your head back in bliss. “D-Dally, just like that again!” You exclaimed him doing you ordered grounded into you again he made a noise between a hiss and a snarl of pleasure.

“Ahh…doll you’re doin so good” he said in between heavy breathes and low moans wanting him to be closer for better fraction you wrapped your legs around his waist again and pulled him into your chest tangling your hands in his hair you so desperately loved with one last movement you reached you limit. “Dallas!” You yelled out. Pulling his hair slightly in sync with your release. You released your legs from around his waist and your grip on his hair allowing him to sit up.

“I ain’t done with you yet, doll face.” He heaved finally removing the last of his clothes becoming nude like you have been. “Let me know if this hurts,sweetheart” he said slowly pushing into you using your earlier release as a type of lubricant you scrunched your face up in discomfort it stung like hell and when tears started falling from you face in small streams he lovingly kissed them dry. When he finally had himself fully inside he took a moment to let you get comfortable after a few minutes you stated rocking back and forth on him and “GOD!” did it feel good.

Dallas took your reaction as a sign you were comfortable and slowly slid out before pushing back in causing a low moan to escape you he didn’t care though slipping out again and this time roughly pushing back in you bit you lip to keep from screaming his name out but he simply lent down to your ear and whispered. “Come on baby doll, I wanna hear you,please?” That was all it took for you release your lip from between you teeth and letting the lewd sounds invade the room you two occupied he continued to rut into you a such a rough rhythm you couldn’t even made a sound but your facial expressions said everything for him. You started moving with him at a certain point making the pleasure ten times better for the both of you.

Then he got that spot that caused such a loud, long, and by far the most sinful sound to leave your throat that’s how he knew he found your sweet spot he kept the same pace he already had this time aiming for that certain point that would drive you crazy, and every time he hit it dead on. “DALLAS, please keep going, please!” You whined and begged you were so close and the burning in you stomach felt so good right about now. “Ahh~, god you are so pretty like this doll face!” He expressed kissing your lips roughly and driving his tough right to tangle with yours.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD!” You repeated wrapping your legs around him and driving him deeper into you hitting the spot better than he was before causing you to rake your nails over the busied and batter back of Dallas leaving fresh red scratches that would surely scab over. After a couple more thrusts you dug you nails into his back as you had you second release of the night. Heavy breathing and shortening breathe were all that filled the room when Dallas slowly stopped moving. “You didn’t finish?” You asked feeling a bit bad about having the whole night to yourself. “Nah, think you can help me with that?” He question giving his big pretty eyes a little flutter, you giggled.

“Course I can, baby” you teased slowly getting off the now messed up bed to your knees while Dallas moved to have his legs hanging off the bed. You innocently looked up at him before lightly kissed his throbbing erection it drew a low guttural moan from him. You kissed all around it purposely avoiding the main event to egg him on. “Come on baby, I ain’t got all night now” he snarled getting inpatient with that you took him in your mouth slowly looming your tough over his tip he gripped your hair and curled his fingers in it a clear sign to “hurry the hell up” you let out a small moan making the boy bow his head down and small huffs to leave his body.

You liked that reaction so you did it again this time slowly starting to lick all around him and suck him simultaneously this combination caused tears to form in his eyes and to bite down on the ball of his fist to keep quiet seeing as he was gonna keep silent the whole time you ran your hands up his thighs slowly dragging your nails along them teasingly, humming pleased as he loosened his balled fist and let out a whine so cute you couldn’t help but coo making more vibration and more whines to leave.

He came not to long after and you swallowed every drop careful not to spill any you look up at your lover boy and saw tears still in his eyes the aftershock catching him by surprise, you walked off to the bath room and started to run a hot bath checking the water every so often when it was full and ready you hauled Dallas over and into it joining his soon after sitting behind him.

After washing yourself and him you put the sheets in the washer and put a different set on the bed opening the pried open window a little more letting the smell of sweat and sex leave the room during the night, shutting the lights off and getting into bed had to be the best thing you did all night and then when Dallas huddled up between your boobs you stroked his soft hair and kissed his head lightly.

Before dozing off yourself content with the events of the night.

———————————-

first time writing smut please request more stuff!

-spiral<3

#x reader #dallas winston #matt dillon #smut #female!reader #the outsiders

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tenkobitch · 6 months ago

Text

𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦

Kira (OC) x Shoto Todoroki

Genre: Slow burn, angst, strangers to friends to lovers, tragic backstory, heroes

A/N: I stayed up until 12 a.m. to write this chapter, and I do not regret it. Lots of love <3

Word Count: 2.6k (2,606)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫? 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧...

𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐚: 𝐀 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐀𝐅𝐎 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐀𝐅𝐎'𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧, 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

~Kira~

I thought that I'd be living a crazy life that involved going on intense adventures and being undercover. Instead, I'm being forcibly confined in my Da Da's villain base with a doctor, a man capable of creating portals, and the only psychopath that's close to my age. All I want to do is be able to roam the streets and interact with any random person that's willing to listen to me. Y’know if I were All For One, I'd think a bit more logically by allowing my daughter to go out more that way she doesn't decide to turn on me later for a sliver of freedom, but that's just me.

Even when Da Da does allow me to go out, I have to be supervised by one or more of his less recognizable villain followers so I don't run off. I wish that everyone in the base could understand why I'm frustrated, but they're all either fully grown adults who have chosen to make bad choices, or they're (Tomura) traumatized and brainwashed to follow whatever Da Da says. The only way that I can vent my frustration is to violently practice my quirks until I pass out…

Or I talk to Tomura.

I walk into the room, ignoring the “Do Not Enter!!” sign sloppily taped to his bedroom door, and sat next to the 19 year old as he click-clacks away on his video game. I lean my head on his shoulder and watch him play a little bit before speaking.

“Tomu… you ever wanna leave the base for hours on end sometimes? Y'know, just for fun?” Tomura shakes his head, not bothering to pause his game to look at my expression.

“I used to when I was younger, but I've gotten used to it here. I like not being forced outside all the time.” He responded, using his head to nudge my head in acknowledgement. I pursed my lips in disagreement, muttering, “At least you get to leave.”

The boy finally paused his game to give a pointed look in my direction. He dropped his controller carelessly on the floor, propping himself on his bed. Tomura patted a spot that allowed us to lay in the bed comfortably. Sighing, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and spoke quietly to avoid anyone eavesdropping.

“I get what you're feeling, but ya kinda have to accept that Sensei's not gonna let you leave.”

“Do you think Da Da would let me leave if there was a fire?” Tomura tapped a gloved finger against his chin as if he were actually thinking about it. Finally coming to an answer, he smiled at me.

“Even if a tsunami came through and hit your room, he probably wouldn't even let you call for help.” I slapped Tomura’s arm as he laughed uncontrollably. I tried to calm him down as he coughed up a lung.

In a way, his statement felt as genuine as his laughter. I laughed a little to keep from ruining the mood, but he could tell that I was hurt. He shook his head to deny his response, trying to ease me.

“I'm sure he'll eventually let you run around out in the real world. I'm sure he's just doing this to protect you…” He said as he rubbed my arm reassuringly.

I did not feel reassured.

But I smiled regardless, thankful for the encouragement. Tomura wasn't usually an encouraging person because he had no use for it, but he always knew what would cheer me up. I leaned against the headboard, closing my eyes to come up with what I wanted to really say. I allowed my quirk to dig through the boy’s head and projected a message.

‘Thanks. You always know how to cheer me up, don't you?’

His cheeks grew red as he turned away from me, trying not to show me his expressions. I huffed, sliding off of his messy bed and back into the floor. He slid into the floor as well, pressing ‘continue’ on his game, playing it once more. He lost himself in his fictional world, allowing me to leave his room to enter my own fictional world.

—

To my dismay, I had read my small collection of books I hid under my bed, which meant I couldn't lose track of time until I was supposed to train again. This was the only thing I had to keep me from losing my mind, even if some of the books were about how sleeping can heal your body, or how plants survive. Some of my stories were about love, loss, and happiness, and I'd do anything to get that back…

I have to at least ask so I have a chance to gather more books. If I can't have complete freedom, I'd gladly take a whole library of books in exchange.

I hid my books back under my bed and walked out of my room. I made a small lock and key and attached it to my door, locking it to the best of my ability. I didn't want anyone to look through my room without my knowledge, but it would probably happen regardless of what I did.

I sauntered towards Kurogiri, the only person in the room, putting on my most nonchalant face. If Da Da was sleeping or busy with The Doctor, then I'd be good to leave on Kurogiri’s permission. It'd be a lot less trouble to go through him if I could.

I took a calm breath, giving a small smile to the man who could create portals. I can do this… the worst he can say is that I can't leave and I'll never be able to leave as long as I'm under All For One's rule…

I definitely don't want that response.

“Kurogiri.”

“What is it, Kira?” I couldn't help but start sweating as I was confronted with this actual conversation. I thought I'd be smooth about it, and this would already be over with.

But this is actually terrifying. Asking if I can leave is always terrifying.

“Is it okay if I leave to go to a store. I just want to buy a book.” Kurogiri gave me a blank expression (at least what I assumed was a blank expression), thinking about what to say. He looked straight into my eyes, causing sweat to roll down the side of my face. As nervous as I was to receive an answer, I was still on the edge of my seat, ready for anything to happen.

Kurogiri stared at me for what felt like an eternity before he went back to polishing liquor glasses.

“All For One says you should be back before your training starts. He sent for Victor to escort you on your outing.” I nodded, ready to head towards the door before Kurogiri spoke again.

“He states that you are only allowed to roam in the shopping center close to the base. You should have enough time to see or buy something and be back before training.” I stopped in my tracks, allowing myself to inhale deeply, focusing all of my energy into my creation quirk.

I thought carefully about every little detail on the coins and bills I would be using to buy my items, and I felt a part of me drain into making these pieces of money. I created thousands of yen’s worth of money, and stuffed it in my short’s pockets. I thanked the portal man and waited for Victor outside of the building.

I could hear heavy breathing as Victor ran to my side, hunching over as soon as he made it to me. He eventually slowed his breathing to be less unstable, but he was still out of his element. We nodded to each other – his being less coordinated than mine – and we both began to walk to the shopping center.

—

I would never get over the sight of actual people walking around and going into their desired stores to buy everyday items. I especially wouldn't get tired of seeing all of the glowing store signs and the colorful displays outside the shops. I always dreamed of walking outside whenever I wanted and just looking inside the stores just to look. I wouldn't have a reason for going in, but it'd be nice to be able to do so.

Victor led the way after I told him what I was intending on buying, leaving me no chance to sight see if I wanted to catch up to him. He slipped by random passers-by effortlessly while I kept bumping into people, apologizing left and right for the intrusion. He flowed smoothly through the large crowds while I struggled to keep up with the amount of people. If only I was allowed out more, I'd be able to handle this, easy peasy.

We eventually met in front of an unfamiliar store. It must be a new store. I bravely walk in – back and shoulders straight – as I walk to where I see the wall of books.

This store had more than books it seemed. There was only a big shelf of books, and everything I saw ranged from tiny clothes to glow in the dark pens. I had never seen such a diverse room before. It filled me up with adrenaline, causing me to pick up a random book and scan through it almost immediately. I couldn't stop myself. I was just too excited.

In my excitement, I came up with a master plan to keep my book trips from being too frequent: I was going to scan all of the books and store them in my photographic memory. I wouldn't even have to flip through every page of the books in order to gain the full story. I could just commit the titles to memory and I'd have the full book. Victor couldn't be less bothered, standing with a foot propped against the wall. He tapped to an infrequent beat as I expertly studied all of the titles.

I finished faster than I thought, ensuring that I wouldn't be caught. I pick up a random book, glancing at the first page, finding it interesting enough to purchase. I found another book alongside it, choosing to buy them both to avoid leaving empty handed. I looked back at Victor to find him glaring at the other side of the room. I tried to find the cause of his irritation, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me to the front of the store.

I found myself in front of a small woman with long tiger claws and sabertooth teeth, gently tapping away at the cashier’s device. She looked up at me and gave me a beautiful smile, muttering a small, “Welcome to Everything Palace, how are you doing today?” I froze, only moving to give her the books and to pull out my money. I wasn't used to talking to someone so… nice. Even Tomura had his moments of teenage angst and disrespect towards me.

I nodded my head and gave a small, “I'm fine,” with my best attempt at a smile. The woman gave Victor a side glance, making me worried that he was coming off weird toward the store staff. I attempted to excuse his standoffish behavior.

“That's my brother. He doesn't like shopping at all, so he's not in the best mood.” The woman nodded in understanding, giving me another beautiful smile as she gave me the price for my books. I gave her the exact change and she handed me my bag. As we walked off, I heard the cashier say, “Have a nice day.” I turned around and gave her a small head bow.

We pushed through the glass doors, springing into the calm yet bustling sidewalks of the shopping center, Victor already taking off to head to the base. I pulled him back, receiving a questioning look from the unrecognizable villain. I spoke loud enough for him to hear me through the chatter of more passers-by.

“Can we go to a store that has a hair brush or something? I have extra money…” Victor nodded, warning me that we only had an hour left before I was needed for training. I acknowledged his message and we walked through more busy crowds towards another unfamiliar store.

—

The wind picked up quickly as we hurried out of the store back to the quieter walkways. I exhaled, wanting nothing more than to wander to more shops or areas to release my stress levels. I seriously did not want to leave. Even with all of the discomfort of bumping into different people and such, I would rather remain here than in another place.

I was gonna go crazy if I went back to the base. I was gonna do something crazy…

I let myself fall behind as Victor continued to stride back to the lair. I couldn't move away from the front of the store. I couldn't even push myself to move back into the store. I just continued to stand there, waiting for something to happen – for someone to take me away to a better place than where I was living.

But as I continued to stand here, I realized that my “bodyguard” hadn't moved at all. He was staring at me from a distance, urging me to come with him, but I wasn't thinking straight.

And because I wasn't thinking straight, I started running.

Oh my God, I was running!

Running away from Victor.

I could hear his feat pounding harshly against the sidewalk as I kept on running. He was already tired, despite the fact that we only walked to every place we went to, but it didn't seem to stop him from running… just like me. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, making me feel absolutely invincible to the world. I didn't know where I would run to, but I knew that I wouldn't stop.

And I knew Victor wouldn't stop either. I kept my pace, even when he started using his energy to run faster. My brain turned off the moment I started moving, so I turned myself invisible and sprinted into an alleyway opening. I searched my body for anything that would give me away, and I found a small tracker pressed firmly to my shirt. I managed to peel it off and stomp on it before throwing it as far down the open street as I could.

Before I could catch my breath, Victor was right in my path. I held my breath as the villain stopped in the alleyway, trying to sense where I was. I couldn't give up this easily – it would be a waste. If he found me right now, I would be dragged home and tied to a chair and probably tortured to death. Or until I became obedient.

He walked slowly down the small area, getting closer and closer to where I was hiding beside a dumpster. I prepared for my end long before I started my chase, but before the man could get any closer, I felt my mind connect to his, projecting an out of breath voice in his brain.

‘I ran into a dead-end! I need to go deeper…’

The villain's legs twitched, pulling away from my hiding spot as he decided to run deeper into the alleyway. Far away from me…

He dropped my bags of things before rushing to my assumed destination. I wasted no time in gathering my items and pushing myself in the crowds of people as I turned off my invisibility. I had no idea where I would go, but I would find out once I got there.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

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waffles-art-writing · 2 years ago

Note

Can you do platonic batfam with a male reader who is like Hunter from the owl house

Family - Platonic!BatFam x Male!Reader

Summary: Y/N is the chaotic guy in the bat family, getting into trouble is normal especially with trying to sneak out. Jason sometimes helps but just enjoys watching you get scolded by Bruce or Dick.

Proofread: Kinda?

Pairing: Platonic!BatFamily x Male!Reader - (Based off Hunter from Owl House)

Word count: Pretty Short as I have been very busy - Sorry ;-;

Key: Y/N - Your Name , L/N - Last Name

Warning / Info: Cursing (Not Really just implied), I don’t know too much about the Bat Family or Owl House so I’ll try my best! Hope you like it. (They may be OOC) kinda going off the Silver and Bronze Ages / (Earth-One) family since it’s the one I know. Dick is like a big brother, Jason is just chaotic like usual and Bruce just being the tired father figure.

Kinda Short, so Sorry! I don’t really know them too well and I haven’t watched Owl House!! I’ve also been super super busy, so I am really sorry for just getting to requests now!! BUT Thank you so much for requesting Anon!!!

——

“Y/N!” Bruce yells, his shout echos in the corridor. “Okay look, I can explain. Y’know… Dick wanted me like uh, go get him ice cream..” you stutter out a reply, Bruce stares at you with angry eyes. “Give me the keys Y/N…” you clutch the keys that are behind your back tighter, “I don’t know what keys you’re talking about, BYEEEEE!” You state, running off, dodging Bruce’s attempts at grabbing you. “What the fu-” Jason exclaims, quickly moving to the side to avoid getting bowled over by you sprinting. “CATCH!” You yell, chucking the keys to the confused man.

“Wait what!?” Jason yells, fumbling with the keys. “WHAT THE HELL Y/N!” “Can’t talk! Running! Catch ya later!” You yell over your shoulder, sliding around a corner, your plan to leave the mansion has failed. Miserably might I add. You come screeching to a halt, your face colliding with Bruce’s chest. Your ass hits the floor, tail bone aching “Ow….” you mumble out, holding your nose. “What the hell dude!” You spit, quickly stopping your complaining when you look up and see Bruce staring at you with a disapproving glare.

“Care to explain yourself Y/N?” “Uhhh so…. I don’t have any good excuse other than I just wanted to leave…” you sigh, blinking owlishly when the older man picks you up from under your arms. Placing you on your feet. “If you wanted to leave, you could’ve just said so. I would’ve sent Jason or Dick with you.” You pout “I’m a grown man thank you very much!” You pause “… to a point…” Bruce just shakes his head with a sigh.

Your head whips around, the deep sound of Jason’s chuckle echoing down the corridor. “Oh c’mon. You can’t say you’re a grown man!” He states, walking up next to you. “Your head barely reaches my chin shortie” you glare at the taller man, you know you’re on the shorter side. Your genetics didn’t help at all, but you have the skills to make up for the lack of height. “Well, I’m sure I have a bigger di-” “Y/N!” You shut your mouth quickly when Bruce scolds you for your foul language. Jason doubles over, clutching his stomach while laughing, tears pricking his eyes. “You two are children…” Bruce grumbles, snatching the keys from Jason’s distracted hold. “Now go to bed!” The older man growls, stomping down the corridor away from you and Jason.

Jason wraps his arms around your head, bringing you into a headlock, knuckling your hair roughly. “Hey let me go!” You whine, trying to get the man off you. “You’re the one who got into shit!” He laughs, letting you go after you bite his arm. You hear a grumbled “Gross” from ahead of you, your eyes widen when you realise it’s Richard - well Dick… Nightwing - you stand straight as you realise he now knows you tried to use him as an excuse.

“Are you two done yet?” He asks, he just got in from patrol of the city. “Uh- yep! I’m gonna go- Byee!” You call over your shoulder, walking off away from them. “Y/N Remember we have training in the morning!” Dick calls, knowing you’re gonna ‘forget’ anyway. “He’s not listening Dick.” Jason pipes up, walking past the old Robin. “I know, I just wish he kinda took this more seriously…” he mumbles, speaking to himself more than Jason. Who is already turning the corner. You’re one of the youngest in the Bat Family, you’ve got a lot to learn, and big shoes to fill.

——

Your eyes sting when you walk into the gym, the bright lights not helping your half awake state. “Good Morning Y/N. Decided to join the land of the living?” Jason chuckles, he's already sweaty from his training, Dick in the same state over by the punching bag. Bruce is left earlier to some meeting, one that didn’t interest you in the slightest. “Yes… I regret it already” you mumble as you flop down onto the mats, the urge of sleep already tugging at you again. Jason walks over, standing above you, his hands on his knees as he leans over to look at you. “Get up sleepyhead, we got a lot to do!” His voice is still scratchy from waking up early, yours is practically nonexistent. You groan, rolling over and hiding your face in your arms. You hear another set of footsteps approach, light floods your vision again when you see the floor growing distant. “Put me doooown” you whine, squirming in Dick’s hold. “Y/N you gotta get warmed up.” He states, placing you on your feet again, his smirk plastered on his face.

“Surely I don’t gotta train… like there’s no point, I barely leave the mansion, I just sit here and-” you continue to ramble on about why you ‘shouldn’t train because there is no point’ you’re so emerged in your rambling, and convincing that you don’t even notice that Dick and Jason have gotten you to stretch with them. They just continue to listen to your poor excuses, playing along, hoping to get you to the point of sparring at least. “- that is why I shouldn’t be here!” You conclude, your smile dropping quickly when you realise you’re in front of Jason. Your hands up to defend yourself, both of you in a stable stance and ready to spar. “I did it again, didn't I?” You ask, your lips pressed in a fine line. “Yep. So! Let’s get this on the road and get you fighting.” Dick states, Jason in turn throws a fake jab at you. “No no! I don’t consent to this!” You scream, running away.

You all into the door, causing you to fall flat on your back. Your groans get muffled by the laughter of the two other men in the room. “Stuff you” you spit as you sit up, your hand holding your head. You stumble to your feet, your head hurts and the rest of your body. “So are you gonna spar with us? Or are you just gonna keep looking for an escape when you know there is none??” Dick asks, walking over to you. You look down, biting your lip, a smirk worming its way onto your face. “Let’s make a deal.” Jason’s laughing halts when he hears your words, Dick looks at you with a raised brow. “What?” They both say, your smirk turns into shit eating grin. “If I do training with you guys. You have to take me into the city anytime I want!” You smile to yourself when you see Dick look at you in thought. He’s the oldest out of you three, therefore has a licence to take you places

Jason can technically take you to town. But last time he drove the cops pulled him over. Bruce was annoyed beyond belief. Yeah he had a permit but he wasn’t legally allowed to drive without a fully licensed person, he’s gotten tickets multiple times. So he’s currently suspended from driving, but we won’t get into the nitty gritty of that.

The training continues with little complaining from you. Your body aches and your head hurts from all the information that Dick was trying to tell you about fighting and what not. You’re happy to be here, be with your family, be a part of something for the greater good. You’re glad they have taken you under their wing, kept you close and looked out for you when times get tough, the same you do with them. They are Family.

#fanfic #batfam #batfam x reader #jason todd #nightwing #dick grayson #short fanfic #dc robin #dc batman #dc fanfic

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luckyedie · 1 year ago

Text

Soooooo I answered some Hancock prompts and did a doodle for @gloomytk.

LOVED writing these. Thanks gloomy! 🫶

How do you feel about glitter?

Why? Wh-….you ‘ain’t got any on ya, right? Tell me you don’t have glitter. Sister, you gotta burn that stuff when you see it, you gotta burn it! It-it-it gets in the skin, listen I’m a ghoul, it’ll stay there forever! I-I’m just gonna stand over here until I know you’re clean. Nuh-nononono! You stay over there, yeah. Just gonna, climb this…in case it gets on the floor.

What do you think of as you fall asleep?

I’m usually worryin’ Shaun is gonna sneak in and put a pillow over my face.

Hah, don't look at me like that! I'm just messin'.

That’s a tough question though…uh. The booze used to help out with that, but since I cut back I just try to think of blue skies, lighthouses. Y’know, peaceful shit.

Do you know the Brotherhood has a giant robot?

Christ, they have a giant robot?! Man I really needed to keep a better eye on those guys. Well that just spoiled my whole day.

What are your thoughts on Deacons pathological lying?

I 'aint tryin' to be rude, but if I was that guy I would wanna pretend to be anyone else.

Hm…I guess I was tryin' to be rude.

Do you believe in ghosts?

Sister, when you've hallucinated as much as I have, you become a really bad case study for paranormal activity.

If you could get a tattoo, what would it be?

I used to have a bunch but they all kinda fell off. If they can get the tattoo to stick I'd get somethin' original this time, like one of the kids' names, or a heart with barbed-wire around it or somethin’.

Why are you laughin’? You like the funny ghoul?

Would you ever quit smoking cigarettes?

I’d only quit if you wanted to kick the habit. Cancer is the least of my worries, but you gotta keep an eye on those free radicals sunshine, and I 'aint referring to me.

Have you ever thought about owning a Time-Share?

What? I don't got a watch.

Do you think Deathclaws are capable of being tamed?

I dunno, ask Baby, she's likes talkin’ to the wildlife. I think she’s gonna grow up vegantarian.

What's the best high you've ever experienced?

Uhhhhhhhh…..

He proceeds to disappear into his own mind for five solid minutes.

What's some of your pet peeves?

Bad catering at an orgy. Next question.

Do you have games on your phone?

Huh? What, like phone sex? Sugar, the phones don’t work anymore, but we can talk dirty over the radio if you wanna.

Star Wars or Star Trek?

Is that a book or somethin'? You been to the library? Hey, next time you go can you find out what a time share is?

What would you say to someone going through extreme trauma?

Uh, I'm pretty slow on the uptake with the emotional side of things. I'd usually offer chems I guess, but with a gal though, I'd just hold ‘em and be there, and try not to flap my mouth too much.

How do you feel about the totality of human existence?

People are funny. I like ‘em. There’s a few bad apples, but they stop being a problem after they stop being alive.

Do you consider yourself a monster (as in monstrous personality, not appearance)

Sometimes. Yeah... Sometimes I think I'm a hot commodity. Never got the balance right.

What’s with all the questions? Are we doing the pillow-talk first today?

How do you want people to remember you?

A decent guy who left the world a better place than how he found it.

Chocolate or Peanut Butter?

Chocolate survived the bombs better. Peanut butter went wrong. Dunno what it used to be like but now it’s…eugh… I know you told me it used to taste good but - Let's change the subject, I went out last night and I'm feelin' kinda nauseous as it is.

What makes you feel alive?

Nearly dying is a rush. Dying not so much, I wouldn’t recommend it. Yeah I know I didn’t, technically.

I am tryin’ not to get shot quite so much these days.

No, no no. See, that guy came outta nowhere. That doesn’t count!

What's your favorite smell?

Hm…you smell good in the morning. Maybe not the breath quite so much.

Ow, careful with the bullet wound.

How do I look?

Delightful, as usual. Oh, you want me to elaborate? I like watchin’ ya walk away in that vault getup sunshine, I could eat ya right up.

Will you please drink all of this purified water bottle?

Only if you order me around.

Forest or Beach?

Beach. The forests kinda give me the creeps. I get jumpy.

Will you drive me to the store so I can get some gluten-free ice cream?

Yeah. What flavor? Hey we can eat them on the docks and watch the dead dolphins float. It’ll be romantic.

Does the hat stay on during sex?

Hah! Until it falls off. We could give it a test drive later if you want, see how long I can keep it on my head.

Can I wear it?

Sure.

Well look atcha, cute as a button. You look about ready to instate a political system of some kind. Politicians are supposed to be cute, right? That’s the angle I was going for anyway.

What is your honest opinion of Kent Conolly?

Considerin’ you were one of the few things that got him outta the lounger, I’d say he's got a little crush on you. Don’t blame the guy either

Why have you never started a community garden in Goodneighbor?

Because Codsworth would come and micromanage the hell out of it. I heard about the fiasco in Sanctuary, with the gnomes.

What's your favorite swear?

Ah man I like ‘em all. Hm, blasphemy too….That shit’s got tenure. Goddamn rolls off the tongue quite nice, don't ya think?

I know, I'm so classy.

Can I hold your hand?

Sure, don't pull too hard though, it might fall off.

…Hey, wanna go make out behind that dumpster before the raiders get here?

What does your skin feel like?

Uh… dunno. Just feels lumpy to me, my fingers are all messed up. You tell me, hold up, I'll unbutton my shirt.

Lumpy. See? That’s what I said! Okay and warm. Mm. This is nice.

What's your opinion on Fisto?

Hah! What? Fisto? Is that like a punchin' bot?

Can I leave him here? Thanks.

Ohhh! Frank mentioned this guy! Haha! Put him right next to the drinkin' buddy and we got a party right there.

During really scary and stressful moments in life, what do you remind yourself of to stay strong and keep cool?

Usually when shit goes down, it’s instinctual. I’m in the moment and not really thinkin’ of much at all. After, I’d just walk it off with a cigarette or lock myself in a room with some Jet or something to get the heart-rate down. I guess If I died… it was my time, and that was it.

Since we’re doing the family thing though it’s fuckin’ different. I’ll tell ya that much. Soon as I get home, I go to pieces if I think I put you or the kids in danger. Yeah I do. You think I’d let you see that? See, now I said it, you’re gonna worry about me too, and now it’s a whole thing.

Socks on or off?

Off. Socks on if I wanna make ya laugh, but it’s kinda a mood killer.

Do you pay Ham, or is he just part of The Third Rail?

Haha he just came with the place. Nah, really, I paid him good money. He got extra if there was a lotta blood or some broken glass to deal with, to be honest he probably took home as much as Mags did.

You shoulda seen his apartment in Goodneighbor, he kept it all real neat and tidy, liked to keep stuff perpendicular.

Can you give Edward Deegan my number? I need someone to come fix my plumbing. Thanks, man.

Hah! He has been looking for work lately… what? You don’t trust in my DIY abilities? I can be a porn extra. That guy looks the part but he’s always so serious, he might even fix the pipes and not try to sleep with ya.

Why's the sky blue?

Because…is it sky uh, bacteria? Cloud…particles. Listen sugar, I can think of better and more naked ways to pass the time than tryin' to figure than out right now.

Will you hold me while I cry?

Hey, hey. Was I bein’ a jerk just now? What’s got you upset? No, you don’t gotta say a thing. C’mon let’s go sit down for a sec, over here. I gotcha. Yeah you get nice and comfortable on me. Just like that.

S’all gonna be okay, sunshine. I’ll always be here.

I'm sorry if I pass out on your shoulder; I'm just mentally wrecked…

Stay as long as you need. I live a long time, I mean I might need to go to the bathroom at some point…but - see? That’s the smile I fell in love with.

You go ahead and zone out.

What's your favorite kind of fight?

Gahh this is a tough question.

As a spectator I like the clumsy brawls with guys that don't usually throw hands, y’know? That just tickles me. As a participant though? Who doesn’t love a knife fight?

Let's blow up the Brotherhood balloon together.

Hell yeah! Let's go right now! Shaun has blueprints of the whole place, I got a bag packed and everything.

Fuck…I’m gettin’ all misty. Oh shit, don’t look at me right now, I didn’t expect to get emotional. Been wantin’ to do this for a long time…

Sunrise, or sunset?

Both. They're both romantic as hell, don’t ya think? Hey, wanna hang out on the beach this afternoon? I’ve been starin’ at that view for a while and I could use the company now I got it.

How do you get over your fear of the unknown?

Eh. It’s kinda like people. The unknown is only scary until you get to know it. You didn’t know me once and I ‘ain’t that scary now, am I?

But, other people still think so, right?

Good.

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cdyssey · 2 years ago

Text

Zipper

Summary: Frankly, Barbara Howard has never had so much trouble with a damn zipper before.

A/N: Hi, @athenaseden! I'm so glad that you were one of my giftees for @abbottgiftexchange! Thank you so much for being such a positive light in the fandom with your great edits, your kindness, and your passion for anything and everything Work Wives! Hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link

—

“Hey, Barb,” Melissa’s voice floats outwards from the en-suite bathroom in their shared hotel room. “Can ya help a gal out a little here?”

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” she idly responds, not really paying much attention. She’s been stretched out on her bed, ankles primly crossed, for sometime now, just watching the Food Network, passively admiring the way that Alex Guarneschelli moves through a gleaming kitchen.

(Mm! That woman sure knows how to work a whisk.)

Melissa, meanwhile, has been in the bathroom for the past half-hour or so, getting ready to go down to the hotel bar and catch a televised poker championship with a couple of teachers they had met at the conference earlier today.

“Fun dudes, but probably not. Nah,” Melissa had said of them, shrugging in an almost casual manner when Barbara had carefully asked if she planned to stay out for the night. They had been in the hotel elevator together, ascending to the correct floor, their shoulders just barely brushing, the delicate skin of their forearms, and the question had electrified the thinnest space between them.

She had shuddered inadvertently and dubiously blamed the cold.

Barbara always discusses sex in euphemisms, treats it like it’s something too dirty to ever articulate with her mother tongue, but Melissa, perpetually a good sport, easily plays along.

Often teasing Barbara.

Sometimes even openly mocking her.

But, for all of her snarky witticisms, she indulges her nonetheless. They speak about sex in the same way mischievous kids come up with creative alternatives for swear words to use when they’re around their parents.

(In their heart of hearts, they both know what they’re poorly disguising anyway.)

“Eh, they’re a little too goody two shoes for my tastes if y’know what I mean,” she had continued, chuckling. “I like my men the same way that I like my beer.”

“And how is that?” Barbara had only smiled, all balanced again, anchored and blissfully moored, relaxing at the implicit confirmation that Melissa would return to her well before midnight, that there would be no tomfoolery behind closed doors, and that there would be Melissa, not even five feet apart from her in another bed, stretched on her side, the thin blanket outlining the hourglass silhouette of her body.

Barbara had liked that incredible sight when she had woken up this morning.

Very much.

(Perhaps entirely too much.)

(She had stared, in reverent awe, far longer than propriety would allow, until Melissa stirred herself and finally turned to face her, the crow’s feet just edging her eyes crinkled in a laughing hello. )

“Tall, robust, and just a little bit dirty,” Melissa smirked coyly, waggling an expertly arched brow.

And Barbara had immediately elbowed her in faux-outrage because that was just what she always did whenever Melissa made a vaguely crass joke.

“Girlfriend!”

And Melissa had pouted in faux-indignation because that was just how she always responded when Barbara was faux-offended.

“What? I’m just tellin’ it like it is.

And all was right with Barbara Howard’s world so long as this careful pattern that she and her partner have threaded together for over twenty-something years was so perfectly maintained. She leaned into her friend then and laughed freely.

She was comfortable again.

She was secure.

It’s been a lovely trip all around—the both of them have gotten tons of good tips about integrating tech into the classroom—and, well, it’s been nice for a slew of other reasons too, most of them having to do with Barbara’s semi-recent divorce and what shortly followed afterwards: Melissa insisting that they do fun things together over the summer break.

And she was a uniquely stubborn woman, the second grade teacher.

She wouldn’t take no for an answer.

And so, in the last month alone, they’ve gone to the movies and shopped ‘til they’ve dropped and taken art classes at the local civic center. They’ve visited museums and thrift stores and cozy cafés that no one else but them and Philly’s hipster population seem to know about. On one particularly memorable occasion, they picnicked in Fairmount Park, spreading their blanket near a bed of honeyed daffodils, and Barbara read aloud from a collection of John Donne poems as Melissa spread jam on their sandwiches.

The kindergarten teacher is well-aware that most, if not all, of this has been for her benefit—that by fun, her red-haired companion is openly caring for her, making sure that she gets out of her achingly empty house, redeeming her from the prison of all her thousands of collected hurts.

Thirty-seven years had been a long time to be married, especially when the last five of them had consisted of both herself and Gerald politely ignoring the fact that they had run out of things to talk about anymore besides the basics: they loved God, they loved their girls, and they were mutually obsessed with their respective jobs.

They both thought that the other worked too much.

And in the end, they had argued about that fact all the time, even though it was not the crux of the problem but rather just another side-effect of it—the excuse they could readily latch onto when facing the truth was unbearable.

Gerald was always so gentle after a fight, though, apologizing profusely for all the things he did and didn’t do. And Barbara was wracked with Christian guilt, that mighty scourge, wondering many questions, though two most of all.

Where had it all gone wrong between them?

And why was the place she felt most at home in a school, in a certain classroom, at a special round table that was reserved for only two?

Before she could satisfy either query, though, she and Gerald had amicably divorced nearly a year ago to the day, and she had set all forms of introspection about herself and her failed marriage and her home away from home in the teacher's lounge aside, incapable of performing such tender examinations on still open wounds.

Her ex-husband still calls her sometimes, and they talk enthusiastically about the girls, what Taylor is up to at her job, how they think that Gina’s girlfriend might finally propose to her this year. And occasionally, when nostalgia or wine hits them just right, they reminisce about the thousands of good times they assuredly had too, even though neither of them have any inclination to return to the start.

Barbara loves him even still. He will always be family to her. He blessed her with their two beautiful daughters. They were wonderful partners for nearly four decades.

She is not in love with him anymore, though, and that is the crucial—sometimes still sad—difference.

Melissa has understood this involved dichotomy, far better than most, and she has offered her shoulder to lean on every time Barbara has nearly asked. She doesn’t ever request Melissa’s help herself, of course, her pride always balking at the terrifying idea of being so vulnerable before another, but her friend has always known when she has needed it.

When she has wanted it.

Ached for it even.

Yearned.

And so, here they are in a shared hotel room at a pedagogical conference in Manhattan that neither of them had really been able to afford to attend, but Melissa had known a guy who knows a guy who got them discounted passes. The younger woman had told her that this was just another fun thing too, a chance to discover some new ideas to bring to their classrooms… but Barbara knows—and is deeply appreciative of the fact—that this is yet another way that she is being so powerfully loved by Melissa Schemmenti.

“Okay, coming out,” she calls from the bathroom. “Don’t laugh, okay?”

“Never,” Barbara hums, finally turning away from the TV.

She assumes that she’s just helping with a necklace or taking the rollers out of her friend’s hair, nothing about their previous exchange exactly preparing her for the moment when the barely cracked bathroom door slowly opens, and there—in the triangle of light fanning across the carpet, stumbling a little, one of her black stilettos catching on her other ankle—is Melissa in a sophisticated cocktail dress, black and silky, the neckline plunging in low places.

Her vivid hair spirals over her bare shoulders in soft, elegant curls, and the reflective fabric of the dress rides over the outline of her curving hips with care, precision, and an unmistakable stroke of sensuality.

Barbara Howard, her mouth fallen open in a perfect, comedic o, is utterly speechless.

Incoherent and overwhelmed at the sight of her.

She barely remembers her own name, much less how to capably speak.

“Well?” Melissa asks, at once impatient and self-conscious, her cheeks rather rosy with blush. She shifts her weight from heel to heel. “You gonna sit like a log, or are you gonna come zip me up?”

“Zip… you… up?” She echoes dumbly, every syllable punctuated by a rather unnecessary pause. There is something caught in the pillar of her throat—perhaps dust, perhaps her beating heart—constricting her ability to breathe.

“Yeah.” Melissa suddenly turns, revealing a long vee of creamy skin trailing down the length of her back, a hint of her black bra visible, a clasp that just seems to be barely hanging on. The vertex of this sliver, of this little slice of Heaven, ends just above Melissa’s lower back.

Barbara swallows indelicately, unable to pry her eyes away from this remarkably inappropriate place.

“Can’t reach back there,” the other teacher goes on, seemingly oblivious to the chemical reaction denaturing Barbara’s insides, “and the zipper hole’s too small for that wire hanger trick.”

“Oh,” she can only force herself to say. “I see.”

And so, with mechanical movements, all of her limbs alien to her and awkward in proportion to her body, she peels herself off of her hotel bed and shuffles across the soft carpet like a sailor drawn by siren song across the distance of that wine dark sea.

Temptation is assuredly Melissa.

Salvation quite possibly too.

If utter consumption follows, then at least Barbara will die in glorious rapture.

She has never seen someone so beautiful, and it is only as she finally reaches the other woman, less than three feet away from her and then mere inches, that the strangeness of the situation suddenly dawns on her.

Melissa doesn’t wear elegant dresses and Old Hollywood ringlets to bars. She wears leather jackets and black jeans and lovingly scuffed boots. She throws her hair back in loose ponytails. She buys her favorite jewel-toned v-necks in bulk from Target.

The effect is charming in a rugged kind of way.

“All of this,” she croaks, her shivering fingers now poised above that zipper, beneath which the outline of a lace elastic band is just visible, “for a drink with a couple of men from Vermont?”

She doesn’t know why she says men like that, as though she has already judged them and found them wanting.

As though precisely none of them are deserving of the sight of Melissa Schemmenti dressed for the nines.

She supposes that they're all perfectly nice—good teachers, passionate about what they do.

That still doesn’t grant them access to the Holy of Holies.

“Connecticut,” Melissa corrects, with some amusement. “And no, this isn’t for them. It’s… uh, well, you know Alice? That teacher who did a really good speech on music therapy? She’s also gonna be down there. We might grab dinner later.”

Alice Liang.

Yes, Barbara certainly remembers her—a stunningly put together woman in an excellent turquoise pantsuit, who had carefully and exhaustively delineated the importance of preserving music classes in schools. In the corner of her notes—(in the big, even letters she knows makes it easier for Melissa to quickly decipher)—Barbara had scratched out that she looked a little like Michelle Pfeiffer, tilting her notebook so that her companion could see.

Yeoh, Melissa had scrawled back, silently snorting.

But yeah, she had added. She’s hot.

Barbara hadn't gone as far as saying that—(even if she did unaccountably think it)—and it immediately threw her off that Melissa did.

And then, on top of that, Melissa went up to Alice after the presentation was over, and Barbara had watched from afar as the two women talked, both animatedly gesturing with their hands, sometimes laughing at something the other had said. Around ten minutes of this, with Barbara growing antsy enough to consider going over there herself—(To interrupt? To satisfy her ungodly curiosity? To drag her friend away? She didn’t know)—they pulled out their phones and seemingly exchanged numbers before Alice turned away to talk to other attendees.

And Melissa had returned to her, looking quite pleased with herself.

“Another prospective admirer of Melissa Schemmenti?” Barbara had asked in a tone that she hoped to God sounded light. The twinkle in her friend’s eyes discomfited her for no good reason. It inexplicably annoyed her that she hadn’t been the one to tease this lovely softness out of her.

And that it’d been a virtual stranger.

A breathtaking woman at that.

“Oh, shut up,” Melissa had only laughed, ribbing her with her elbow. “I just wanted t’see if she’d send me some more of her research later. I’d love to make silly song time better for my kids.”

“Suuure,” she’d drawled, unconvinced, attempting to remain playful.

“I’m bein’ serious, Barb!” Melissa poked out her lower lip, indignant. It was less ferocious than it was adorable. “It was just shop talk.”

“Don't get your panties in a twist—I believe you!” She had laughed, she had placated, she had soothed—(both herself and the other woman)—patting her friend on the arm like she would one of her kindergarteners, convincing herself that perhaps the conversation had been purely platonic. (Perhaps she had simply imagined the moment when Alice’s hand had lingered on Melissa’s back as they parted.)

And yet, despite everything, despite all that each woman had done to deny significance of that exchange, here Melissa is now—in an unspeakably striking number—for one Ms. Alice Liang.

“I thought she was not, in fact, another member of the Melissa Schemmenti Fan Club,” Barbara teasingly accuses, even as her stomach clenches, even as something unpleasant settles at the hollow of her throat. She pinches the zipper between her long fingers and begins to pull it upwards with slow deliberation, watching, mesmerized, as the teeth close over that smooth and beautiful skin.

She could be quicker about this whole ordeal, a little voice inside of her quietly suggests.

She shushes it.

She gently tugs.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to stay out tonight,” she adds, dragging out every syllable on her tongue. She appreciates the fact that even though every other part of her body is conspiring together to shut down, her voice is somehow unshaken—low and deceptively smooth.

“Well, I lied, okay,” comes a huffed, embarrassed reply. “I won't object if a pretty woman in a blazer asks if we can go get cosmos. Sue me.”

A slight pause then as she tilts her head to look at Barbara, her chin resting on her slightly freckled shoulder. And though the swoop of her auburn hair eclipses part of her profile, Barbara can still see the crooked curve of her mouth.

That red and radiant smile.

And she briefly stops her very inefficient zippering—nearly three quarters of the way done—frozen, her knuckles resting just above Melissa’s bra line.

“I supposes that makes sense,” she rasps in a thoughtful tone, as though they are simply talking about the incidentals of the weather.

They are absolutely not.

They are openly talking about the way Melissa is very much attracted to and attractive for other women.

Of course, even though the two of them never talk about sex outright, Melissa has never shied away from being candid about her sexuality with Barbara. Indeed, when Gina had come out to her and Gerald a few years ago, it’d been Aunt Mel who had apparently been a silent confidant for her daughter even long before that, telling her of own experiences, assuring her that her parents would love her no matter what.

In that moment, Barbara had deeply appreciated the confidence that Melissa had placed in her.

And ever since then, she has occasionally wondered about that exquisite—(and somewhat conceptually remote to her)—promise of being loved no matter what.

No restrictions.

No insurmountable barriers, no carefully articulated boundaries in-between.

Love that is not circumscribed by the comfortable mantle and the heavy burden of tradition.

Love that is fully liberated.

Love that is unconditional.

“You... said of men that you prefer them like you like your beer. Would I be too”—she searches for the right word in the vast dryness of her own mouth— ”forward in understanding that you have a different palate for women…?”

“You’d understand right,” Melissa says carefully, her voice suddenly solemn and hoarse, sieved of its teasing and its mirth.

Barbara still hasn’t zipped her dress.

Frankly, she doubts she ever will.

“I like my women like I enjoy my wine.”

“And how is that?” Barbara asks the same question all over again, but she is not smiling this time. Not even close. And she is not comfortable, thoroughly unrelaxed, far from at ease with herself and the unspoken tension that vacuums up the air between them. She is teetering on a precipice—toes curled over the unguarded edge—and looking down at the seething sea, calculating her chances for survival if she unreservedly jumps. She is touching Melissa Schemmenti’s exposed skin, and she is incapable of coming up with a rational reason for why she should stop doing so.

She's always had a rational reason before.

A marriage to a good man.

A diamond encrusted cuff on her fourth finger as the material proof of this fact.

But now it's in her jewelry box of a reliquary, consigned to the past, ancient history.

And now she is unbalanced without its restrictive safety.

Horribly insecure.

Unmoored.

Knees bent in preparation for the dive all the same, a prayer of faith lacquering the tip of her tongue...

“Good,” Melissa replies huskily. “Vintage. Full-bodied, like it’s tasted its fill of the world before I've even touched it. Elegant and always there when I need it. Swirling with all sorts of complex notes, the symphony rollin’ across my teeth."

“That’s… quite a lot to ask of one woman,” Barbara tries for a joke that falls flat as soon as Melissa finally sweeps her hair back behind her ear, revealing the profound darkness of her eyes, how they are speckled with so many glittering stars.

“Oh, I think I know of someone who can cope...”

Barbara Howard doesn't need any more prompting than that—she leans forward and and captures the taste of Melissa’s lips against her own, sipping slowly and savoring, relishing, discovering, her fingertips still touching the other’s arching spine. Melissa is a practiced sommelier, and she is ever so gentle with Barbara as she expertly explores what happens when the two of them brush tongues. It is a patient and glorious sensation, a sweet buzz that lingers and radiates outwards through Barbara’s entire body.

Every atom in her shudders with holy, intoxicating delight.

She has leapt and not fallen.

She is flying.

She is kissing Melissa Schemmenti; she is being kissed; and though she has been kissed so many times in her sixty-six years of life, she has never been kissed like this before—as though she knows how to innately return the favor forward.

They eventually have to catch their breaths, even though they're loathe to break apart, all of their limbs now tangled and intertwined, Barbara's hands on Melissa's hips, Melissa's fingers curled into the collar of her shirt. She presses her head against the younger woman's own, inhaling the aroma of her, the vanilla and the honey and the smokiness of her wild perfume.

“Shit,” Melissa breathes, her cheeks flushed. “I got all dressed for nothing.”

“I can possibly help with that,” Barbara only replies, finally reaching upwards to grab a hold of that damn zipper, and at long last, undoing what she had so imperfectly done.

#work wives #melissa schemmenti #barbara howard #abbott elementary #s: abbott elementary #reginianwrites #this was so much fun to write!!

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