#commercial trance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oftenderweapons · 11 months

Text

In Your Calvin's | JJK

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 9.6k

Genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established relationship

Rating: 18+ Minors, do not interact

Synopsis: Being Jeon Jeongguk's girlfriend is a great honour, but it comes with great responsibilities. When the commercial celebrating your boyfriend (very secret boyfriend) starts playing on everyone's and their mother's phones, it's time you face what it means to be loved by the most wanted idol of them all.

Warnings: Jealousy and general possessiveness. Swearing. Powerplay, switch!reader, switch!jk. Masochist!jk (?). Marking (hickey, writing on body with a pen), hair pulling (male receiving), edging (male receiving), spanking (male and female receiving). Teasing. Mild degradation. Dry humping. A very mild boobjob. Breast worship. Unprotected foreplay, oral sex (female receiving; brief male receiving), unprotected sex (be smarter, kids), rough sex. Mentions of cockring.

One last thing: 1. this was edited at 3am, please bear with me. 2. Sidenote: I try to be as neutral as possible with the way I describe the girls' appearance, however I wanted to specify that in this fic, I mention Candy having long, straight hair (and huge badonkers, but that's kinda canon by now LOL). It's just a brief mention, absolutely nothing major and holds no relevance to the fic, you might not even notice it; but still, I wanted to make sure I thought about my curly haired goddesses, and short haired queens, (or a combo of both heart eyes) and that I apologise for making this fic just a pinch less immersive for you. (Is this the right moment to apologise to small boobs princesses too? ily sisters, itty bitty titty committee 5evah)

Here's my masterlist, lemme just disappear very quickly. Enjoy 💜✨

You knew Jeongguk had a gig with Calvin Klein. You've known it for months. You've seen him cut calories and hit the gym and dehydrate for a couple days before the shoot because he explained to you how muscle definition works, and crucial to showing a great slab of abs is being basically as dry as a breadstick, to the point of being cranky because you have drunk three glasses of water in the last forty-eight hours.

Which all means, you knew his stomach would be quite surely showing.

And yet your world still stops once you're merrily sitting on your train back home and his half undressed form appears on the screen on your phone.

At first you slam your phone shut, mostly because you're used to hiding your boyfriend away and that's the reaction you usually have when you open one of his flirty pics from your chat.

Next, you realise you weren't on your private chat, and you weren't even looking at pictures in your phone gallery.

You were absentmindedly scrolling. On Instagram.

You unlock your phone again, and right there you're confronted with the very naked truth.

Jeongguk. Is basically naked. On your phone. And it's for the entire world to see.

Your brain slows down, as if the earth axis is tipping over a little in the opposite way.

Something inside you snaps around the third time the video plays in front of your unseeing eyes. To anyone looking at you, you could be just an obsessed fan taking a close look at the fine piece of art, but your eyes are unfocused, your mind too deep in thought to register any stimulus from the external world.

The vibration from the phone awakens you from your state of trance.

“Candy, baby,” says the adorable lover boy calling you. “Have you seen it already?”

Your lips are sealed, and you can't quite bring yourself to speak, you don't know why.

“I'm on my way back home.” You say, and the words feel like cracking a glow stick in your chest.

“But did you see it?” His voice isn't as bright now.

“I'm coming home.” You repeat.

He's silent for a few seconds, and you can hear him sigh. “Okay.”

“He's so insanely hot,” you overhear a girl sitting across from you comment.

“I want to run my palms down the sides of his waist,” says her friend.

You stare at them and you know you must look like a woman possessed right now, but you still allow yourself to incinerate them with a glare, as if your eyes could turn into flamethrowers.

“Candy?”

“I'll be home in ten.” And you close the call.

On the way back home, you hear more people talk. More girls fawn. More women zoom in.

On the escalator, you notice a woman fanning herself while staring at the screen. Another one even crosses herself as the ad from your boyfriend reruns on her phone screen.

Every step on your way home is utter agony, and once you step over the threshold, you're not sure what you're going to do.

Jeongguk is in the kitchen in a sleeveless top, tattoos out, piercings glowing in the gentle light of the living room. And his hair is fluffy, which means he's probably just done blow drying it after taking a shower.

The fact that the scent of his body lotion is still sharp gives you further indication of how recent that shower must be.

“Hey,” he says, turning towards you with a bunny grin, which immediately dims once he sees your expression. “Oh. Bad day?”

You bite your lip and stare at him a fair bit. Then, a bit more.

“Candy, love.”

You don't know what to do with him. Is he yours? Is he really yours?

How come you come home to him making dinner, and being freshly showered, and being so domestic? How come you're living in his apartment, knowing his pass code, having an ID card for his apartment complex and his studio at HYBE? How come he gives you a copy of his schedule and talks about you over the phone on his weekly call to his grandmother and brings you to his parents' house? How come you go on trips together and you're the emergency contact to his fur babies and you make love two to four times a week? How come he's brought you to the town he grew up in and loved you down in the place where he lost his virginity because, "I wish it had been you since the very first time"?

Who is this man?

Is he Jungkook from Bangtan Sonyeondan? Or is he Jeon Jeongguk, your very own quiet, shy, reserved lover boy?

“You're scaring me,” he whispers, putting down his wooden spoon and taking a few steps to stand in front of you.

“Why me?” you ask, staring at his collarbones, too scared to look into his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he asks back, sheepish.

This time your eyes meet his. “Why me? Of all the women out there, why me?” You look down, taking in just how average you feel, every imperfection magnified in your eyes, now that you have so many people you're comparing yourself with, and competing with.

“Candy—” He starts.

“Everyone, everyone out there is literally foaming at the mouth at that commercial, and I'm here? I come home to you? I make love to you almost every night?” You pause and laugh bitterly at him. “I'm a fucking fraud.”

He shakes his head and moves closer, grabbing your wrists. “A fraud, you say?” He tuts in disappointment, places your hands on his waist. “You're not a fraud, ____, you're my soulmate.” He leaves your hands once he feels them clutch at his narrow waist.

Possessiveness hits you all of a sudden, and it is only mildly ebbed by his hands landing at the top of your ass.

“I love you, and I make love to you because it's a fucking dream. You're a fucking dream, and I'm so upset that you don't see it.”

You're jealous. You're simply jealous. It's human and it's healthy to be moderately jealous. After all the comments you heard and read, it's fair to be jealous.

“I reckon you saw the commercial.”

“I saw the commercial and everyone's reaction to it,” you comment, slightly acidic.

Jeongguk bends to place a kiss below your earlobe. “Are you angry?”

No. Not just anger.

Your hands mimic his and crawl to his lower back, toying with the hemline of his underwear. “I'm not mad.” I'm disgustingly jealous and I don't like them having more of what's mine. They already have too much, they've always wanted too much and you always give it to them and I'm furious that it's not mine alone.

Jeongguk wears a mischievous smile as he makes you take several small steps back, the back of your legs hitting the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?”

You click your tongue and shake your head. “No.”

The reply startles him, and he feels his mood dim. Did he—

“I'm not a jealous person, but this… God, this hits a new level,” you finally admit. “They already drool over you quite enough, and now they even have a video of you shirtless. How would I not be jealous!? Half the girls would have snapped your neck. If Yoongi ever did this, Kitten would have his balls dangling from her Mercedes keychain. I don't even know how Lace and Princess are handling their boyfriends naked on everyone's phone. If I were Tae I would seek political asylum in Greenland. Or maybe Tibet.” You take a large mouthful of oxygen before you launch yourself in another tirade.

“Everyone's talking about grabbing your waist, licking your abs, tugging at your hair and shit and hi! I'm here! I'm the girlfriend! Sorry I exist! WHAT THE FUCK!?”

Jeongguk laughs and lowers himself to your chest, kissing where your heartbeat echoes like a crazed war drum.

“It's not fun!” you complain, significantly agitated.

“Mh.” He hums as he moves aside the hem of your shirt, meeting the soft, smooth skin of your chest. “It was supposed to come out on your birthday, that's why's a bit more racy,” he explains more patiently. “But they decided to release it early.” He kisses a tender spot and your left knee tingles a little. “It was supposed to be a slightly too public boudoir shoot. But secretly it was just yours.” Jeongguk finds the cup of your bra and stares up at you as his fingers reach the hem and slide the fabric aside. “I was thinking of you when I made it.”

And once his mouth wraps around your nipple, your right knee starts tingling too.

“Must admit I had to push the limits a lot to finally make you jealous,” he purrs once he is done with the licking, sucking motion of his mouth around your tender flesh. “But I'm sorry I crossed the line.”

What line? You think, your brain already hazy. No sharp line exists in the world you’re currently in. Just the loving, plush hills of Jeongguk's lips, the slippery slopes of his waistline, the sinuous curves of his hip bones leading you to his pelvis, and the soft curls of his luscious dark locks. No crossed borders, only gentle waves licking the shore, water and land embracing one the other.

“Remind me who's the boss here, Candy,” he says, and you know he's playing you right now. “Remind me where I belong.” His mouth is at your ear as he whispers, “Show me who owns me.”

The tingles are spreading as his fingers grab at your ass, his lips connecting with your jaw. “Talk to me, Candy.”

You’re not sure you can articulate words at this moment. Talking isn’t as easy as everyone makes it seem.

His eyes connect with yours and he can tell you’re staring at his lips by the poetic detail of your lashes lowered over your cheekbone.

It makes him chuckle, very gently, that he has all these details of you he adores, and that you have the audacity of asking him why he picked you, and why he keeps choosing you over and over.

He loves you, his family loves you, his dogs love you. This is the way it’s supposed to be.

His finger reaches underneath your chin, forcing your eyes to actually meet his. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he purrs, and as your lashes dart up, he shakes his head a little, loving the way you arch up a fraction, as if pulled towards him. “There she is, beautiful.”

You feel completely neutralised. Disarmed. All the storms brewing over you a minute ago are forgotten as soon as his sweet smile shines like sunlight above you.

His hand combs your hair back, cupping your cheek and landing a kiss on your temple. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod.

“What mood are we in?” You’ve asked him this question thousands of times since the two of you became serious, ever since he opened up about feeling too closed off to make a relationship work; and now, the fact that it was such a solid, valid ritual in your dynamics made it natural for him to ask too. “You need to talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I’m better. I…”

“Tell me what you want.”

You stare at him, at his shoulders, at his biceps, you trace his tattoo with your fingertip, and he looks closely at your finger, at it drawing swirls and circles on his skin.

“Pick me up,” you say softly.

And he does, immediately. His biceps flex and he grunts a little, not at the weight, but just because he knows the sound can make your toes curl, and he likes that a lot. His hands are wrapped around the back of your thighs, then they adjust to your bottom.

“Next? Counter? Bed? Shower?”

You kiss him. Impatient, and needy, you kiss him.

He opens up for you without hesitation, moaning at the sweet invasion of your tongue in his mouth. God, he loves it. It makes him melt, to feel your tongue slip against his, moving wet and sloppy, your lips plush and hot pressed up against him. He loves kissing you. Actually, he loves making out with you. He’s pretty sure he could come of that alone, and he tries to remind himself you have to give that a try. Another day.

He places you onto the counter because he fears his knees might give out on him. And once he has you there it means his hands can roam all over you and grab your chest and toy with—

“No touching,” you snap at him, gripping his wrists and pulling his hands behind his back.

His eyes go wide at the shift in pace, but he obeys. He also feels like he's awakening from a dream only to find out reality can be so much better.

You dig your hands in his hair and he hisses a little as you tug gently, but still roughly. You think of all the people who wish they could do just so as you stare into his eyes, seeing just how turned on he gets as you manhandle him.

You lean towards him and you notice him trying to kiss you, but you tug at his hair harder, holding him in place as the heat of your exhale fans over his parted lips and his chin.

“You want me to own you?” you ask him, watching his muscles twitch as he fights the urge to grab you and put you in place.

He nods. “Do me all the things no one else can.” He has a roguish smile as he adds, “Do me everything they won't ever, ever do to me.” And he is god of deception when he finally tips you over the edge. “Do me everything I want just from you, and you alone.”

You watch him intently, then tug at his hair so that his head is angled upwards, throat vulnerable and exposed.

He's staring at you with a mischievous glint in his expression, a walking temptation, and you can almost hear him say it, 'come on, do it'. And you do it.

You bend forward and sink your teeth in his flesh, the tender skin caving in as your bite marks him softly before your cheeks move into a suctioning motion that you know will turn into a bruise. It just pleases you so.

“Take a step back,” you order as soon as you're happy with the hickey. “Take off your shirt.”

And he winks before he does. You watch the plain of his chest, the valley in between his pectorals leading you down to his navel.

“I hope you're wearing your Calvin's,” you tease with a cocked eyebrow.

He smirks. “Always in my Calvin's.”

You snicker and shake your head. “Take off your pants.”

His forehead scrunches up in surprise, but he eventually obeys.

He's standing in a pair of socks and his white boxer briefs. At least he didn't lie, they are Calvin Klein.

“Do you want—”

“The Calvin's stay on,” you sentence, then you descend from the counter. “Head over to the bedroom. I'll come over in a minute.”

He stares at you, flabbergasted.

“Oh, and I almost forgot: don't touch yourself. Settle down, hands on the headboard and wait pretty.”

He blinks, unsure of where this is going to end or where it came from, but so blazingly grateful for it.

“Okay.”

You give him a quick once-over as you stand in front of each other. His abs are toned and defined, but now less alarmingly than the days before the shoot. His thighs are strong and you love how the material from the boxers wraps around them comfortably and smoothly.

You dare stare at his crotch, at the way the fabric traces the curve of his length, so perfectly long and so perfectly thick.

You allow your fingertips to trace the curve of his spine, so lightly that it causes him to close his eyes, his head inched to the side as he shivers in pleasure.

“Can I be rough with you?” you ask him, your hand reaching the small of his back and cupping the curve of his ass.

He moves his hands on you the exact same way you did. “Maybe I like pain,” he suggests, and from the collection of tattoos and piercings, but mostly from the supercut of memories of him getting bitten, spanked and scratched by you, you’re reminded that you’re not dealing with the edited version of him he has promoted publicly.

This is your boyfriend. Jeongguk. Your Jeongguk.

You sink your nails into the flesh of his ass, and he hisses but smiles, pulling you closer, swaying his hips to tease your crotch with his. “Go get ready, babyboy,” you croon.

He hums invitingly and kisses your neck, trying to get you to move with him, but you’ve made up your mind already.

“Go,” you repeat.

He pouts and grabs your hips. “Come on, what are you trying to do?” he asks, his brow furrowed, his eyes dark and wide and imploring for you to just follow him and spare him whatever cruel surprise you want to use against him.

You grab his wrists, making him unclasp his hands. “Go and you’ll find out.”

He hesitates and then he faces away, still reluctant, turning around a couple times on his way, checking if you’re following him — perhaps, maybe, hopefully…

Yet, you don’t move, not until he turns the corner to the bedroom. And then you make your way over, slow, unbothered.

And you close the door on him.

You head to the bathroom, wash up quickly, and equally quickly you cover yourself in his favourite lotion, taking special care of your neck and chest. Once properly buttered up and covered in nothing but pretty Calvin undies and his favourite Calvin jeans jacket, you’re ready to attack. But you stare at yourself in the mirror, and you feel like there’s still something you could do to give him a heart attack…

Oh, that, you think. And you get to work.

Apparently he has behaved, as you find him lounging in bed, with his boxers still on, his hands laced behind the crown of his head, a fine slab of abs in full glow from the dark amber hue coming from his led lights.

“Are we on a sunset gold kinda vibe— Holy shit.” He didn’t manage to sound as cool and aloof as he’d tried to be once his eyes landed on you.

He wished he could take a picture of you and spread it across town, just so he could stare at it while waiting for a bus, or hanging out at Hongdae with his friends, and excitedly point at it while tipsy to holler “that’s my fucking girlfriend, that fine piece of ass fucking owns me”.

He wished he could put you on an album cover and fill it with all the insane stuff you do to his heart and his mind and his body. How his heartbeat does a little hiccup thing when he sees you first thing in the morning, and how he’s spent every wish on fallen eyelashes over you, and making you happy, and building you a house and having fireworks for your wedding night, and having all his fans seeing just how incredibly fantastic you are to him, how you make him so happy and deliriously smitten and barely coherent when it comes to talking about you, and just… He just wants everyone to love you half as much as he does.

And maybe for you to be only ever in love with him, so he doesn’t risk anyone thirsting for you enough to steal you from him.

“What were you saying about golden lights?” you ask, climbing on the bed, your hand modestly holding the lapels of his jeans jacket together — it’s not time to destroy him yet.

“I— I…” He tries to sit up, but you push him back where he belongs with a well-placed hand pressed to the middle of his chest.

“Put on the red lights, love.” You grin devilishly, watching his doe eyes glimmer with wonder and disbelief.

“Have I ever told you I am one lucky motherfucker?” he says, staring at your neck, at your face, at your hand, his palms already moving to your hips as you straddle him.

“I just know it.” You sit on your throne — his lap —, stretch to the end table to grab the remote to switch the lights to red, and once the deal is settled, you let the jacket open. “I mean. I’m the luckiest because I have these, but considering you profit from them… You know…” You let your breasts show.

“I know…” he says, entirely mesmerised. God, he is so easy, you think, watching his eyes scan your chest like a cat playing catch with a laser light. You mix your standard level of charm with a slow grind of your hips, so slow and gentle that it’s straight up teasing, torture at its blandest level.

“You make it so hard to think,” he speaks with a strangled voice, trying to make you move the way he wants, but you grab his hands with the excuse of lacing your fingers with his, only to drag them back by the sides of his head.

“I didn’t know I could turn your brain into mush just like this,” you reply, feeling your folds moisten in an attempt to ease the sliding of your crotch against his length. Too bad both of you are still clad in your underwear and, according to your plans, would stay that way for quite a while, as long as possible. “You’re so whipped.”

“I am,” he purrs, and tries to get away with moving his hands back to your hips, but before he can dig his digits in the soft of your flesh, you tut.

“You’d better not touch that ass, Jeon. Keep your hands to yourself if you want my hands on you,” you threaten. “Just to remind you who’s in charge, sweetheart.”

His eyes go wide and he moves his palms back behind his head as soon as you finish your remark. “Yes, miss.”

“Good boy,” you praise him, and you visibly notice him holding back from smiling at the praise. “Did you see my little mark?” you ask. “Call it a slog

an of sorts. A vision statement.” You shrug and push back the lapels, hoping for the lights not being too low for him to see.

It has taken a while for your handy work to happen, mostly because it can be absurdly tricky writing in reverse, but thankfully you’re quite prone to graphic arts.

Jeongguk rises a little, getting closer to where he can recognise dark scribbles on your chest. Unusual dark scribbles.

“Is that… Tattooed?” he asks, and his eyes go wide as he meets your face.

You cackle at him, leaning over and licking his lips, sucking his lower one, then travelling along his jaw, nibbling at his earlobe in a way that makes his hips jolt against you, buckling. “I can't have that tattooed, can I? Unless the world knows and it gets a little too permanent.”

He frowns, not at the way he loses contact with your warm crotch, but because of the unwelcome realisation of what it means to not belong to you entirely. “I'm so sorry,” he sighs, trying to hold you, but stopping his hands before he can touch you.

He goes back to his assigned position and begs you with his eyes.

“Oh, no. Don't worry, it's okay.” To keep him distracted, you get back to a soft roll of your pelvis against his, and he seems to oppose, but it only lasts for maybe five seconds.

His wound-up exhale convinces you to reward him further, lowering your chest so that it drags against his as you keep grinding on him.

“Jeongguk, baby,” you murmur fondly.

“So unfair… That I don’t get you like a girlfriend like anyone else…” He speaks, his focus spotty and frail.

“What do you mean, love?” you egg him on.

“All the public stuff… All the PDA and the grand gestures. The stuff that makes it official, you know.” His eyes are glassy and fleeting as he speaks, and it really feels as if speaking were like making a necklace except he can’t quite line up the beads the right way and he can’t manage to get the string inside the hole and it takes a very long time for the words to finally turn into meaning and it’s all so frustrating.

“I don’t care,” you reassure him, and this time you’re not unaffected either, the sentence stumbling out of you before you can even fully register the meaning you were trying to convey. “Can you read the tattoo, Guk?”

His eyelids lift through great effort, and in slow motion. You stop moving to help him focus on the writing, and he grunts at the interruption. He does not like that at all, and having you so close, so soft, so hot and wet for him is making his instinct vibrate with need to be inside you, move inside you, and then finally find his release in the welcoming darkness of your womb.

“I—” He’s really trying so hard, god bless his heart, but he’s so unfocused and his vision is blurry and he needs to blink for a bunch of seconds before he manages to spell the message, and then compute it, and then smirk wildly before he bucks his hips up against you, letting you know that you’d better move on him.

“What is it, Jeongguk? Mind sharing with the class?” you bait him with a cheshire grin.

“Not sharing any of this,” he growls, and you can feel his arms jolt at the urgency to wrap around you, press you to his front and shove you underneath him, so that he can finally move as hard and as fast as he knows the both of you need.

“Oh, don’t be a greedy little boy! Don’t you want to test how it feels to say it?” you tease him further, ready to push him to his breaking point. After all, that is what you’re always trying to do, get as far as it needs to make him go wild on you, barely coherent and entirely animalistic.

“You want me to say it, don’t you?” he provokes you, feeling just how much the humiliation will further send you soaring over him.

“I do,” you admit.

He bites his lip and you look at him, you study the shape of his lips, the glint in his eyes, the dark shimmering of his lovely ebony locks, and the way his chest heaves with effort and arousal. “These tits own Jeon Jeongguk,” he speaks, his gaze piercing yours, holding you accountable for the undoing he knows will follow.

“That’s right, isn’t it?” Your smile is sardonic, evilly pleased with his admission of submission, with him confirming, with conviction, that he is indeed entirely enslaved to his fascination for your chest, that he is so deeply enticed by it that just a silly part of you can guarantee you his unflinching devotion.

“You know it’s right,” he grunts as your movements resume. And at this point, he knows this is going to take a while, and it will most surely turn out vicious.

“Just checking in on you, making sure you haven’t found a better pair—”

“Don’t you dare talk to them like this. Not in front of me,” he hisses with a passion, and you chuckle at how chivalrously he defends your breasts from your own ill assumptions.

“That’s so gallant of you,” you reply, your hands pulling his hair back, your tone fond and just vaguely lined with mocking. “Let them repay you for your kindness,” you suggest, as you start crawling down his body, your breasts landing heavily on his lap.

“Really…?” he asks, first distracted and then extremely alert as he connects the dots. “With my boxers on?” He says with a frown.

You shrug and smirk. “Maybe we’ll get rid of them later…” You sprinkle some kisses on his abdomen, your chest dragging against his sensitive parts.

He frowns at the weight of them, so welcome, and yet deceiving as the fabric is hindering him from fully enjoying the act. “Please, off,” he huffs, tutting and fussing a little, but you decide to reward his patience with your nails tracing patterns against his chest, your fingertips drawing his areolae, your eyes hungry on his lost, bewildered state.

“Not yet, love… Be patient with me,” you reassure him, tracing the rift in between the crests of his hips, one side, then the others, ricocheting between the bones on the two sides. “I’m going to make it so good to you,” you promise him, placing kisses all around the underrated perfection of his belly button — a huge ‘fuck you’ to the people salivating over him and never, ever knowing how such a minuscule inch of his body has you so irreversibly whipped.

“Candy… Mh, love—” His voice has grown unbearably raspy and airy, so light it feels almost incorporeal, if it weren’t for the velvet smoothness of his skin underneath your lips, like marble that has finally received the breath of life, your boy an ineffable Galatea.

“If you knew, Guk, if only—” kiss— “you knew—” kiss— “how sexy, and erotic, and exciting and poetic you look right now, baby. You look like art.”

“Lemme touch you, I need you, I need—” he gasps and you’re almost expecting him to release a groan before he comes, way too early, much earlier than planned. But fortunately he doesn’t, he holds back stoically and cants his hips away. “For fuck’s sake,” he whispers, an arm covering his eyes. “I need a second if you need me to hold back.”

“Oh,” you reply in surprise, lifting yourself off him. “Are you alright?”

“Just give me some quiet for a second, Candy, don’t you dare even speak.” Jeongguk’s chest is rising and falling in wide movements, enticing and captivating.

Finally he removes his arm from his eyes, but he barely makes eye contact.

“Guk?” You ask, worried.

“Just— I’m trying to keep it cool here, love.” He wiggles his body a little, trying to get his boxers to fit a bit less tightly around him. “We should be smarter about this, you know?” His hands clench as he stops himself from reaching for you. “We should get a cockring for next time.”

You ogle him, then smile excitedly. “Really?” you chirp.

“Totally,” he concedes. He smiles even bigger at your smile. “Don’t tell me you bought one already.”

“Uhm… No,” you admit with a pout.

“Dammit. It would have been weird, but I wouldn’t even have complained about it since it would pretty much save my ass right now.” He licks his lips, stares at you some more, and he groans and throws his head back at the renewed flare of arousal after he’d just managed to tone it down a notch.

“I’m so sorry, bunny.”

“I’m alright,” he admits, his tone defeated.

“Is this the right moment to suggest I ride your face?” you say, your grin now sardonic, almost drunk on him and the sight of his body shutting down for you, malfunctioning at the mere touch of you.

He stares at you, wide eyed, nodding energetically, like a kid being asked if they want to visit Disneyland. “Guess it took a half naked commercial to get you to finally ask for it like you own it.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Careful or I can keep going with torturing you. I’m liking it anyway.”

“No no no, come over here,” he says with a stern and determined expression on his face, his hands reaching for the back of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting. Get comfy,” he encourages you, and after some manoeuvring you settle on top of him.

He nods to himself, his nose nuzzling against the crotch of your panties, his mouth opening so he can feel your heat with his tongue, trying to get as close as possible.

Unsatisfied, his fingers reach to slip your panties to the side, but you slap at his hand.

“Nope. You wanted the Calvin’s, and we’re keeping the Calvin’s,” you scold him.

He frowns. “No, you were the one wanting them,” he argues. “Keep them on, you said.”

“Whatever.” You arch an eyebrow at him, but you also know he’s right and this decision has come to bite you in the ass. “Imagine how good it will feel once we take them off… And it feels a bit kinky to keep them on. Like… Like we’re having a quickie and everyone out there is waiting for model Jeongguk to come out anytime now, but once he does, well, he looks freshly fucked and everyone can’t stop talking about it— Oh, that!” you moan, your musings interrupted by Jeongguk trying to get bits of you in his mouth.

You’re thankful for the brazilian cut panties giving him plenty of stuff to work with even with the underwear still on.

“Stop me if it’s lewd but, dammit, I love the smell of you.” He drags his face side to side, basking in the damp, salty scent of your arousal. “I don’t even know what it is about it, but I like it so much.”

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing,” you comment, your voice breathy.

“Do you want me to keep talking?” he asks, and you just rub yourself against his chin, his mouth, and his words come out muffled. At some point you think you might have hurt his nose, so you ease the pressure a little, but he grabs handfuls of your butt and keeps you snug to his face, parts his lips wider as if he were really trying to eat you.

He parts from his designed heaven only long enough to announce, “I’m pushing ‘em to the side, fuck it.” And you’re barely coherent, and he’s speaking with that intimate lisp of his, his accent heavy, like he can’t pay too much attention to words anyway.

You don’t oppose.

In seconds, his tongue is tipping inside you, slippery, and so hot, and you moan without even noticing it. Everything is soaked, his chest is covered in perspiration, and so are your thighs.

You dare look down, and his eyes are closed as he is filling all his other senses with the sensation of you.

You bask in the sight of him, one forearm draped against the headboard of the bed, your other hand reaching down, to his fluffy hair currently tickling your inner thigh. You grab it, careful to be right between gentle and aggressive, in that way he finds so pleasant and sexy.

He opens his eyes suddenly, and the moment he finds your eyes already connected with his face, he finds himself more eager to give you just what you need to plunge into oblivion.

He gives you lush, slow licks, from your centre to your most sensitive spot, he takes his time, and moves into more sinuous motions, drawing curve after curve on his way up. He is unrushed, patient, and eloquent. He is luxuriant, explorative, curious.

He loves what he’s doing, and he loves you and he’s showing it, top to bottom, and all the way up again.

“Guk,” you breathe out, and it’s almost a hiccup.

“Yes, I know,” he murmurs against the bend of your inner thigh, right at the fold to your crotch. It’s so private, so sacred. It’s heartbreakingly yours and his and no one else’s. You’re in a shared space where nobody else can tell what you and him know.

“Please,” you manage to say.

He rearranges his arm so he can move two fingers along the seam between your legs, and then they’re inside, and he’s moving them right, rubbing them against the back wall of your entrance.

As you tip your body forward, he moans with his mouth to your clitoris, happy with the new angle, and once you start grinding against him, climbing your way to your climax, he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t go faster, he doesn’t add pressure. He does not change one single thing, and you’re so grateful for the way he has come to understand you, your body, your tells.

“Just right,” you encourage him. “You’re so damn perfect, love— Oh, there.”

That’s the last thing you can remember saying before he sets you off like fireworks. You don’t take much into consideration after that. All is fair, unless he’s holding you back.

You grind, hump, moan, thrash just a little as you get too sensitive and fold in two, your forehead pressed to your wrist on the headboard

as you shake your head ‘no’ but can’t bring yourself to stop from feeling everything he wants you to take.

When you manage to recover, you whisper, “Okay, gimme a second.” And you try to unstraddle his face, but he holds you there, and simply avoids touching your sensitive parts, removing his fingers from inside you.

“Are you alright, Candy?”

You nod and take some large breaths.

He moves your panties back in place, then kisses your mound softly, affectionate, innocent even.

“Can I do anything for you now, love?” He asks with a reverent, caring note in his voice.

You shake your head, still recovering. “Can I lay on top of you?”

“Sure thing,” he says, unlatching from you and leaving some room for you to realign with him, face to face, torso to torso, hip to hip, calf to calf.

He’s still hard as marble, and the gentle grind of your pelvis against his causes him to groan softly.

You press your lips to his to distract him.

The jeans jacket you’re still wearing gives him something to ground himself, his focus aimed entirely at the feeling of the fabric underneath his fingers instead of the humid warmth of your crotch pressed against his.

Just then, you bring your heels underneath your ass, rising to your knees as you swiftly remove your upper garment.

The way his focus moves immediately to your breasts makes you cackle a little, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Candy, you’ll have to get that tattooed.”

“Nah, too dangerous. They might tell on you.”

He frowns. “You’re right,” he still agrees. Too dangerous. You’re dangerous to him too, and there are not many chances of him keeping some form of dignity if he could at any time see a tattoo calling him out for his undying liaison with your chest.

He catches your wrists, making you lose your balance so that your torso collapses onto his. And he keeps you there, wraps you up in his arms.

“Still jealous, love?” he asks you.

“More than ever,” you admit, and you look into his eyes, recognising the feeling pooling in them.

“I'm only yours,” he swears, kissing the side of your head, whatever he can reach, and it's so tender, so innocent, so magical. “What can I do for you?” he whispers, flirting with you.

You wrap your hands around his forearms and bring them up above his head. “No. I want to do things for you.”

You press your lips to his gingerly, then start to kiss down, tracking his throat and moving further downwards, to his chest, stopping where his heart thumps against the petals of your lips.

“Beats so hard for me,” you comment lightly. “Do I make your heart race, love?”

“You do, Candy,” his reply is strained, as if it hurt to speak at that moment.

“But I—” You let your nails tickle the flat of his waist, the elastic band around his hips— “I also make your dick hard, don't I?”

He moans eloquently, then chuckles at your teasing. “You so do,” he admits, embarrassed but also excited, and so so thankful for having found you.

You grab the waistband of his underwear with your teeth, letting it slap against his skin with a dry snap. “Grab a pen from your bedside, will you?”

You look up just in time to catch his eyes flickering open, his expression coming to life slowly. “What?” he asks, confused.

“A pen, from your drawer,” you repeat.

“Oh.” He had been too unfocused and he hadn’t realised you were talking to him, as if the words were just sound with no meaning; however, now he’s paid attention, so he stretches to the side, exposing the slender twist of his waist to your reverent mouth. You kiss him there, his body contracting as your lips attack his ticklish spot.

“You’re a menace,” he complains, giving you the side eye, but also offering you a boyish, loving smirk.

“And yet, you love me.”

“You’re lucky,” he says, right before you nip at his skin in reprimand. “Okay, I am the lucky one,” he concedes, returning to you with a pen in his hand. “You want this one?” he asks.

You nod and stretch for it, then peck the mole beside his navel and make your way down.

His underwear by now is bitterly persona non grata, still you make yourself okay with it and simply move the elastic down, exposing his hipbone more fully.

“What you gonna do?” he muses, propping himself up and staring at you bent over his pelvis. You look at him and prepare the pen, staring in his eyes as you suck at your bottom lip, torturing it a little as you think.

“Are you gonna mark me? Sign me up?” he asks, a mocking grin on his face.

You move the pen away and loll your tongue out, drawing a thick stripe following the shape of him in his boxers.

He immediately drops his cocky act and arches up, sensitive, holding on barely.

“You think you’re so smart, huh?” you scold him provokingly. “Remember where this is all coming from,” you remind him threateningly.

He gasps as your mouth sucks his tip through the fabric, your nails tracing the indentations of his quads.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You’ve got me.”

You nod to yourself. “I do,” you say, patronising just in the slightest. And because you can you rise, remove yourself from the way, and pull at his hipbone, trying to flip him around.

He’s alarmed, but he follows your lead. You straddle the back of his thighs, bend down, and move his underwear down, the elastic stuck under the fold of his ass, further emphasising it. It looks plump and delicious, and for a moment you’re caught admiring him.

He’s twisting his neck to try and see what you’re doing, filled with wonder at the way your hair tumbles over, and he’s mesmerised by the shine of it, the softness of the tips, like a brush, whispering at his skin.

You pick the right spot, then settle down, folded over his glute. His skin is hot against your touch and when you finally bring the pen to his flesh, you hope it won’t fail, despite the perspiration and the soft surface.

Shamelessly, you draw the words like an inscription on a stone.

Poetic, and dirty. Just the way you like it. However, you don’t give him the benefit of knowledge.

You lean back, watch your little handywork with a surging of pride and love and confidence. You smack it, just because you can, not hard, not soft either, just sweet enough that it doesn’t feel like a violation doing it without asking his permission first.

His muscles squeeze, and his breath catches.

Because I can, your brain keeps telling you, over and over, like a mantra. You’re allowed to. He’s yours and you’re the only one allowed to.

“You’re getting confident with this,” he comments, and suddenly your eyes are meeting.

He looks like something you would paint. Something you would dream of, and then wake up and sketch down in the middle of the night, caught by some sort of frenzy, some urgency mixed with an impending fear of forgetting, of losing it. Losing him.

“I’m gonna draw you.”

He doesn’t connect the words for a bunch of seconds. Not until you’re standing up and running out of the room and he asks himself, why, why the fuck is she leaving?

“Candy?” he calls, unsure.

He tries to see what in the world you’ve written on his ass, but you’re making your way back in the room, tablet in hand, and your steps are bouncy and your tits follow the movement so his attention is divided.

“What— Where—?” He’s confused.

And then you’re perched on the armchair at the corner of the room, and the light from your tablet reflects on your face, and you look spirited, caught by some urgency he can’t quite find a name for.

“Candy, for the love of—”

“Just a bunch of minutes. A quick sketch, no more.”

He’s been patient. He’s been understanding. He’s let you tease him, and he’s let you touch him, lick him, suck him. He still has your taste all over his face and chin and he still feels the phantom touch of your breasts against his crotch and all he wants is to feel you on him, around him, against him.

“Please,” he whines.

“Just a minute.”

He swells. Frowns. Thrusts his hips against the mattress.

“Almost—” you say, drawing a couple more lines.

You’re in his arms next. “Put that down, Candy.” His face is right above yours and he’s carrying you bridal style. “Put it down,” he repeats.

You're very still. He's looking at your quick sketch, at the way it was all a rough frame and some basic lines. “You're gonna post that? Share it as some fanart instead of a live portrait?” He throws you on the bed and you clutch your tablet harder, trying to save it from any damage. He's on top of you next, grabbing the device and moving it to his drawer before he returns upon you, blocking your wrists above your head.

“Are you maybe going to draw it faceless, so you can sell it as a picture, to decorate somebody's house?” He bends to your ear and nips at the side of your neck. “Let my ass hang naked on someone else's wall?”

You feel overwhelmed and surprised by his counterattack, not really knowing how to react.

He drags his body against yours, stealing a whimper from your lips. “I think you enjoyed topping a little too much tonight.” He flips you onto your front next, and you find yourself only mildly embarrassed that he's made only one tenth of the effort it had taken you to flip him.

He slaps your ass, and it is nowhere as playful or light as the spank you'd given him. It is his turn to grab the pen.

“Let's see if you can walk the talk, Candy. If you like the taste of your own medicine,” he muses, and he bites your ass cheek, bending over to start writing, but accidentally finding himself unable to resist the urge to sink his teeth in your plush flesh.

“Since I'm not a selfish asshole, I'm gonna tell you what I'm writing. Here we go, 'This ass likes spankings from Jeon Jeongguk'. What do you say? Is it true?”

You're panting, wiggling in his hold, trying anything to see the possessed look on his face. “It's true,” you admit, breathless.

He smirks and lands one more hit on your ass. “Damn right it is,” he says confidently.

He tugs your underwear off harshly, almost angry.

Soon he's naked, and so are you, and he's slipping inside you while you're still on your front, your hips arched all the way up, cupped by his hands. “Let's make this fuck more fun than your drawing, huh?”

And when he starts, goodness, you want him to never, ever stop.

He's ruthless, and he only asks if you're alright once, after three strokes. After that, all's fair, and he's ramming inside you in a way that makes you gasp and arch further, trying to get him even deeper, to an even better angle.

You can't really look at him, since you'd risk a kink in your neck, but he doesn't care. He only cares about his handwriting on your ass, and his name on it. He only cares about the way you're gasping his name, and sometimes, when he slams in at the right moment, the impact causes too much of your breath to come out, so the whispered begging gets punctuated by moaned-out, hiccuped syllables.

He smacks your ass a few more times, his hand tingling, but the spanks seem to make you happy, so he doesn't stop, and he doesn't complain either.

“You're jealous of me, Candy,” he manages to speak, slowing down just enough so he has more of your attention. “Do you have any idea how jealous I am of you? How hard it is to feel like you want to own me half as much as I want to be yours?” He's on his knees behind you, and his thrusts grow more patient, more luscious. Richer and fuller. “Sometimes I'm scared you'll leave me, and someone else will get to have all the wonderful sex I get to have with you. Someone else will get to see your face first thing in the morning, and become a character in your cartoons, and talk about you with their granny, and bring you home for New Year's.” His face collapses close to your shoulder. “What will I do with myself, then?”

You turn your face and you finally get to see him. “Flip me around,” you order him, but your voice is fond. “I want to look you in the eyes while you fuck me like no one else has ever.”

His hair is fuzzy with his perspiration, and his face glistens with a light sheen of sweat. “Sure?” he asks, in confirmation.

“I'm sure,” you comfort him.

He's only happy once you're below him, and he's on top of you, inside you.

You clench around him, and he frowns deeply, trying to control himself. Still, he gives a sharp jab with his hips, and it steals your breath.

“Like that,” you praise him. “I want you to fuck me like that. Like no one else can.”

His eyes stay wide open, stubbornly nailed to yours as he starts moving. It's hard and slow, and it makes you see stars.

“Do you still feel like drawing?” he provokes you, “Or am I fucking you good enough?”

You hiss and bite his arm, both to keep him humble, but also, again, because you can — and nobody else does.

“Maybe I could get on top of you so you can watch my tits bounce, and maybe that will make you want to draw,” you bite back, and next thing you know you're both sat up, you're on his lap and he's bouncing you on his dick.

“Definitely feeling inspired right now,” he concedes. “Maybe I should stop and paint them.”

You push him down and he's finally with his back to the mattress, you on top. “Or maybe you could shut your mouth and get busy so I can cum.”

The slap lands almost immediately on your ass. “Dirty mouth. And a fucking divine cunt,” he speaks through gritted teeth.

He lets you lead for about thirty seconds, during which he stays occupied with your boobs, grabbing them, slapping them, pinching your nipples, and then he grabs your hips and stills them.

“Touch yourself,” he orders your roughly before he starts fucking up from below you.

It escalates quickly from there, and in less than a minute you're gone, collapsing forward, against him, and he's so thankful because he's coming too and your kegels are squeezing him just right, and he only manages to say “fucking yours” before he abandons all his inhibitions and loses himself inside you.

You come back to reality only, and you find yourself tucked in his embrace, his body above yours. You don’t know when he flipped the two of you over, but you like his weight on top of you.

“Hey,” you murmur, combing his hair away from his face.

His expression is lazy and satisfied.

Well done, you tell yourself, almost giving a pat to your own shoulder. He looks fantastically fucked, deliciously edible and perfectly yours.

“Hey you,” he replies, with the most heavenly, blissful grin on his face. No, too tired to be a grin, more like a glowy smile. It’s not fully on, it looks like those battery-operated lights when they’re almost out of energy, a bit faded, or maybe pale. Faint, feeble, dim. Soft. Muted. If his bunny smiles were jewel tones, this was the most delicate pastel pink. A powder baby blue, almost robin egg blue.

You want to wrap yourself in the hazy glow radiating from him, gentle as a sunny dawn in late May.

“So glad you got those Calvin’s,” you joke, and there it is, bunny grin, ten million watts. Apparently that makes his battery die because his head collapses to your neck and he doesn’t seem willing or ready to lift himself back up.

“So glad I made you jealous. But also sorry,” he says, truly apologetic. “I’m happy we did this. I’m happy I saw you like this.”

His lips tickle the side of your neck, and you squirm a little, but you try not to move too much. You want to be comfortable for him to rest on. You want him to stay like that on top of you forever. “I’m still maddish. But I think I can deal with it.”

“There’s more pictures coming,” he says tentatively, and he makes the effort to pick up his head to give you a helpless look, trying to protect himself already by giving you the sweetest pair of puppy eyes he’s ever used on anyone.

“Oh, I’m totally getting your ass branded,” you reply, saccharine. “I was thinking I could make those ribbons, like the ones the police use, except I put my name on it and I wrap it all around your chest, so they can’t drool all over your abs.”

He laughs, and the sound is boyish and playful, and lovely. You fall in love a tiny bit more.

“Can I see the pictures in advance?”

He hums as he thinks about it for three seconds, except he already knows how he wants to play it. “Mh…” he says some more, keeping you on your toes. “No.” He looks up, testing you. “But let’s say I hope you get that cockring ready.”

You pull your head back, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not naked in your Calvin’s, right?”

He grins, gives you a devilish wink. “Maybe.”

You grab his cheeks and squeeze his face and he laughs so hard you can’t be possibly mad at him for even a nanosecond. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“And your tits will be it for me,” he flirts back.

You shake your head. “Brat.”

And he kisses you. Just that.

Before he hits the shower the following morning, Jeongguk inspects the damage you’ve done on him.

He’s quite happy with it. A very faint bruise on his neck. A red splotch on his abs, and another on his hip, but nothing that won’t fade within one or two days. He knows you know the drill by now.

He turns around to inspect his back, and he’s okay with it, nothing that will get him in trouble in case he needs to be shirtless or generically undressed around staff members. He drops his underwear and it’s only once he’s making his way to the shower that he notices something strange on his asscheek.

Oh, fuck. Suddenly reminded of your little handiwork with the pen the night before, he bends to the side, trying to get a better view at his ass.

He finds himself wobbling side to side, like a silly puppy chasing his tail, and that is exactly the way you find him when you enter the bathroom.

A laugh bubbles out of you and you smack his butt playfully. “Do you need help with that?” you ask, cheery.

“No,” he bites back, but he has the most innocent, pouty look on his face, and he is having fun a little. “Maybe,” he concedes, his voice young.

You wrap your arms around him and rise to your toes, propping your chin on his shoulder as you hug him from behind. “I wrote, ‘Candy’s babyboy’.”

His ears go red, just the tiniest bit. “Really?” His expression is so sweet.

“Really,” you confirm, confident, serious, and loving.

“You’re not making fun of me,” he asks, vulnerably.

“I promise I’m really, really not, Guk.” You kiss his shoulder. “You’re my babyboy. And my sexy man. And just mine, generally speaking.”

He nods, a happy, fulfilled look on his face. “Right.” He’s once more confident. Entirely adult.

“Love you,” you reassure him again, and then you kiss his shoulder, again.

He grins. There he is, your boy. “Love you too.”

Hi it's Dita, the writer, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment to keep this poor gremlin fanfic writer motivated. Bye and I LOVE YOU!!!

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x candy #jungkook x yn #jungkook au #bts x reader #52 hertz #bangtansorciere #btswritersclub

2K notes · View notes

anotherlittlemuppet · 2 months

Text

WELCOME HOME SPOILERS!!!

I wanted to put out a few theories and things i've noticed throughout these updates so here they are!!

1- Smooth.

We keep seeing Barnaby all over these commercials with the words 'Smooth' repeated multiple times like the cigarettes and the dog food commercial, it is unclear what for but we know that Home may be jealous of Barnaby, in the last update we see someone (Home??) telling Barnaby to MOVE (Idk is figuratively or literally) But in the last update with the video of Wally and Home we see Home get a bit frustrated at Barnaby and he is the only one realizing Wally space out (Home controlling Wally most likely) But immediately after Barnaby says 'Wally' Home gets out of his head and cuts the video. Something MAY happen to Barnaby and the words 'Smooth' could have some type of hint towards it since we keep seeing Barnaby the most out of everyone, even more than Wally.

2- Julie Theory

We see this image of Julie before right? Well in the recent update we see more and more people snap out of their trance, not just Frank. It is most likely JULIE is next.

We see flowers EVERYWHERE in Welcome Home, and we know that Julie can speak with the flowers, talk to them and gives them kisses (which is adorable) But maybe Julie is going to use that to her advantage to get information in the town to find out what's really happening, or might hear something from her flowers that tell her this. We see one flower with eyes already, so maybe others might have as well? And we see Julie is always on Frank's side (or usually) even agreeing with Frank on homewarming, maybe she is next or will be against everyone but i'm really confident about the flower thing lol

Just things i've noticed though so this may not be true at all though.

#welcome home #welcome home theory #julie joyful #julie welcome home #barnaby b beagle #barnaby welcome home #theory #fan theory #I wonder who will snap out of their trance next?#oh man i'm so excited for next update eeee #eeeeeeee #whoppeeee

330 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 12 days

Text

Fragrances

Summary: Sam looks for a new fragrance and finds something more…

Written for @spnkinkevents SPN Omegaverse Week – Day 2 – Sunday, April 15 - Scenting

Pairing: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, excessive scenting, meet cute, scent bond, true mates, strangers to lovers trope, fluff

Words: 900+

SPN Omegaverse Week Masterlist

You reek like an alpha. The words echo in Sam’s mind. The last woman he asked out complained about his intense and very strong alpha scent – or rather stink.

Even though Sam took her comment to heart, he asked her out on another date. He bought brand-new clothes, showered thrice, and bought a new shampoo, promising silky hair.

All for nothing.

The moment she got close to Sam, she complained again, calling him a stinky alpha. She ran for the hills – leaving Sam in his misery.

“Sammy, you gotta get out of that room one day,” Dean calls from the hallways. “We all smell like alphas. That’s our nature, Sammy. You can’t fight nature!”

“I can and will,” Sam mutters under his breath. “I don’t want to end up alone only because I smell too…strong…”

“It’s called musk,” Dean opens the door and pokes his head in. “If I can bear your stink, and you can bear mine, an omega should be fine with your scent too.”

“It’s not that easy,” Sam sniffs. “I liked that woman, and she called me…” He shakes his head.

“She’s a stupid bitch,” Dean concludes. “Omegas smell like omegas too. While in heat they smell even worse. I don’t want to scent the slick of a random omega either, but I’d never embarrass a woman only because nature is a bitch!”

“Maybe—” Sam gets up from his bed. “I should try a new fragrance, Dean! I saw a commercial about a fragrance turning your scent into…” He wrinkles his forehead. “I forgot the rest but remember the name.”

“Aw,” Dean grins. “You want to buy perfume to smell like a flower, Sammy.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, Dean,” Sam brushes past his brother, ignoring Dean's laughing behind his back.

“Off he goes to smell like a rose garden…”

“Cedar…green grass,” Sam looks at the fragrances, frowning deeply. He forgot the name of the fragrance on his way to the drugstore. “No. Maybe wood or sunflower.”

He hears a giggle coming from across the shelf. Sam stops looking at the fragrances and listens closely. “Vanilla-chocolate muffin,” you snicker. “I don’t want to smell like food.”

The alpha frowns as you continue. “Cinnamon and freshly baked bread,” you huff. “Dude, I’m no food. I want something more natural—”

You purr low in your throat and immediately put the bottle of perfume back when you catch an irresistible scent. You hurriedly round the shelf to stare at an alpha stand in front of the men’s fragrances shelf.

He’s tall and has a muscular build with broad shoulders and a muscular chest. You lick your lips when his scent surrounds you. It’s a dream come true.

His scent is manly, but gentle to your nose at the same time. Like in a trance, you step closer and closer until you stand right in front of him.

“No fragrance for you,” you push the bottle out of his hand and grab his large hand to hold it in your smaller one. “You smell so good.” You look up at the stranger, eyes wide and glassy. “So…so good.”

“What?” He nervously laughs. “Miss…I need to find…” The alpha sniffs at your hair, purring low in his throat. His eyes dilate, and he salivates when your scent is all he can smell. “Omega.”

“Alpha,” you whine and tug at his hand. “My alpha.”

He croons loudly, making you whine even louder. “We…we should…”

“Sammy, what’s the matter—” Dean stops in his tracks. “Crap…” He watches Sam grasp for you, close to stopping his brother when Sam easily picks you up. He calls for his brother, but Sam is too far gone.

He only has eyes for you, in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist and buried your face in his neck to scent Sam. “Sammy?”

“Omega,” Sam walks out of the drugstore with you clinging to his body like a koala. He ignores people who are staring at you. All he has in mind is to bring you home and scent you.

“Alpha,” you rub your face in his shoulder to catch his scent. “My alpha.”

“SAMMY! You can’t just kidnap girls!” Dean calls after his brother. “Do you at least know her name?”

“Y/N,” you murmur while sniffing at Sam’s chest. “What’s your name?”

“Sam,” Sam looks at you in his arms, a content smile on his lips. “But you can call me alpha if you want to…”

“You smell so good,” you insisted on going home with Sam. You didn’t care he was a stranger not hours ago. Sam was your true mate, and your omega wanted him. “So…so good.”

“Y/N,” Sam murmurs against your skin. You ended up on his bed, with his body wrapped around you. While you eagerly sniff at his chest, Sam has his face buried in the crook of your neck. He just can’t get enough of your scent.

“Sammy, did you kidnap the girl,” Dean pokes his head into his brother’s room, sighing deeply. “Dude, you can’t take strays home.”

“Shut up,” you and Sam say in unison. “He’s my alpha.” You complain loudly and go back to scenting Sam. “I won’t leave him, now that I finally found him.”

“She’s mine,” Sam grunts. “We can discuss everything else tomorrow. Today, I need to scent her. Our bond is strong.”

“A scent bond, huh?” Dean cocks a brow. “I always believed that’s a fairytale. Fine, keep her. But don’t bring strays home all the time from now on.”

“I only want her,” Sam nuzzles your skin. “Only my omega…”

Tags in reblog.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #spnomegaverseweek2024 #alpha!sam winchester #a/b/o #alpha!sam winchester x reader #alpha!sam winchester x omega!reader

151 notes · View notes

barefoothighlander · 1 year

Text

mary on a cross - hero of the day

-simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

-warnings: violence, death, smut (mdni), unprotected p-in-v, oral (fem rec), creampie, simon has a dirty mouth, mentions of alcohol, mentions of domestic violence (nothing graphic)

-word count: 6k

-summary: as you and simons relationship grows, outside forces conspire to reveal his secret, leading to him having to protect you by any means necessary. mercenary au

prev chapter fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: ok so I finally got around to playing mw 2019 and I fear a Price phase is coming on so... we'll see what happens. Not proofread, sorry for any grammatical errors

The mornings you and Simon woke up to were very different, yours was filled with a warm breeze from the window and a sense of comfort, not only from your bed but from your current life. You were happy, finally, it took years for you to gain the strength to leave but now that you’ve created the life you wanted, you felt content, secure. Simon’s morning was filled with dread, he barely slept that night, deciding to rather spend his time pacing his bedroom after he hung up the phone with Johnny, the two of them had worked together a few years prior, before Simon’s retirement and they had grown rather close, even using the term friends sometimes (though Johnny used it far more liberally than Simon). But it had been years since the two talked, not for any specific reason, just that Johnny had remained in the force and Simon grew used to living a life of solitude, not bothering to call Johnny over the years. He didn’t have Johnny’s number saved in his phone, but he wouldn’t mistake that voice anywhere, that obnoxious Scottish accent that he swears pierces his skull. It was a shock for Simon, being so cautious with his past time having everyone including the local police confused, but Johnny knew him, they had been through war together, he knew all of his moves, his favourite weapons, the only thing he didn’t know was the why.

“What are you doing going about killing civvies?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about MacTavish” Simon responds, trying to keep his breathing regular as to know alert Johnny

“Bullshit LT, it’s you, I've seen you kill enough men to know what it looks like” He takes a beat, “I’m not gonna turn you in”

Simon almost sighs in relief.

“I just want to know why, you left the force years ago, I’d thought your violent years were behind you, hell if you wanted to kill you should’ve stayed”

“They’re bad people Johnny”

“They always are”

“They’re not innocent, I just wanted people- innocent people to be safe”

“Alright”

The two men sit on the phone in silence for a few minutes, neither one daring to speak.

“I’ll see you in the morning LT,” Johnny says before hanging up.

Simon sat in his bed, his heartbeat in his ears, fuck he’ll ask more questions, he gets up and begins pacing slowly back and forth, you’ll ask questions. He never wanted to tell you about his past, he didn’t want to scare you, he knew you’d look at him differently if you knew what his military file had in it, he knew you’d run far away if you knew what his current past-time was, he couldn’t have Johnny talking to you it would ruin everything, he needed a way to get rid of Johnny without him giving away his secret, and without raising your suspicions.

Rather than sit anxiously in bed all morning Simon had gone to the gym beside the pub, it wasn't a large commercial gym by any means, but it had punching bags, and that was more than he could ask for, reposting to work out some of his stress on the large bags he threw punch after punch till his already sore knuckles were swollen and red. Deciding that he had inflicted enough pain on himself for the day he grabbed his bag and made his way back to the pub, going to turn the key in the lock before realizing it was already open. Immediately Simon went into fight mode, prepared to attack whoever decided to trespass onto the property, his trance only broken by the sound of laughter, your laughter, his shoulders untensed as he pushed the door open to find you, head thrown back in laughter, smile wide and bright, and him, next to you.

You turn your attention from Johnny towards the door, eyes locking on the large looming figure advancing towards you.

“Good morning,” you say, smiling as wide as ever. Simon's gaze shifts between you and Johnny.

“Mornin”

“Sleep well?” Johnny asks, a smirk on his face as he sips his coffee, Simon ignores his questions.

“Johnny said he knew you from the force, figured I’d let him in before we open so he could say hi”

Simon spares a tight-lipped smile in your direction, “Yea we um, worked together for a bit”

Johnny fakes insult, “Just wanted to check in LT, finally got leave so I’m back for a bit”

Simon gives a curt nod as he busies himself cleaning glasses, you sense the tension in the air.

“I’m gonna go get some coffee, did either of you want anything”

“No” “I’ll take a tea lass” both of the men respond, you smile and make your way out the door.

“You shouldn’t be here Johnny”

“She’s sweet”

Simon turns his gaze to stare daggers at Johnny as a smirk creeps up on his face

“You like her” Johny asks, though it’s not a question

“She’s not a part of this”

“So she doesn’t know?”

“No one does”

Johnny nods his head looking around the room before continuing.

“Are you going it for money?”

“No”

“Then what?”

Simon sighs, “When I got back, I spent a week just sitting in my flat, watching the news, trying to catch up on whatever I’d missed. The people, the children that were being harmed, I couldn’t just watch it happen.”

“So it’s about your family”

Before Simon can respond you walk back in, tray of drinks in your hand.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything but I figured I’d get you some anyway”

Johnny watches as Simon's body untenses at the mere sight of you, glancing at his eyes that are practically heart-shaped. You place the drinks atop the bar and both men reach to grab theirs, Simon mumbling a soft thank you in your direction.

“Oi doll, could you grab some extra glasses from the back,” Simon asks, you nod at him and turn to walk towards the backroom.

“Let me help you,” Johnny says, Simon furrows his brows.

“I don’t need your help, Johnny”

“Right, what happens if you get caught?”

“I won’t”

“You don’t even exist technically, you get caught an the whole team gets investigated”

“I won’t get caught” Simon stands stern as Johnny shakes his head in disbelief. “You should go”

“Right” Johnny gives him a sad look, “I’m off lass!” he shouts to you. You poke your head around the corner.

“Already? Well alright, don’t be a stranger” you say with a smile as Johnny gives you a wave turning away to exit.

“I’ll be in town,” he says to Simon, it’s more of a warning.

Simon feels his mind flush with a million thoughts at once as soon as Johnny leaves.

“So, the weirdest thing happened last night,” you say, moving back into your seat at the bar, Simon gives a hmm in acknowledgement, keeping his attention on cleaning the bar.

“News said they found two bodies on a street close to here, just freaked me out cause I take that street home”

“Strange”

“Right, and remember how I was telling you about those guys following me” You wait for his nod, “It was the same street, can’t be a coincidence”

Simon feels his pulse start to race, there’s no way she thinks it’s me. You shake your head

“I don’t know, just weird. Guess I have to find a new route home”

“I can take you home,” Simon says a little too quickly

“No I don’t want to be a burden, I don’t live far anyway”

“You could never be a burden”

You feel your cheeks flush a little, looking toward your feet.

“Alright”

The two of you enter a comfortable silence, going about your tasks individually, but always within reach of each other. The day was slow, with a handful of people coming in once and a while to get a few drinks, by midnight it was dead quiet, you and Simon occupying yourselves with quiet conversation that was mostly one-sided.

“Top five books,” you say

“What?” Simon responds with a raised brow

“What are your top five books, I’ve noticed you reading in the mornings”

He gives a small nod, “Not sure, maybe dorian gray, hell’s angels, jekyll and hyde, moby dick, and jane eyre.

“You’ve read jane eyre”

“A few times yeah”

“Cute, no books about war?”

“Feels strange to read about it when you’ve lived through them”

“Them? Like multiple”

“What are yours” He changes the topic quickly

“Doesn’t matter” you say and he smirks.

He looks outside to the dark street, “We should probably get you home”

You nod and gather your bag, Simon walks beside you, locking the pub before the two of you make your way to the street, he places a soft hand on your waist to guide you in a different direction, and you feel heat flush your body from the contact. The two of you turn a corner and walk to a small alley beside the pub where a motorcycle is sitting.

“You ride a motorcycle,” you ask almost amused. He huffs a laugh at the question urging you closer as he turns the key in the ignition, you hear the bike roar to life as Simon turns to place a helmet on your head, securing it before sitting on the bike, he waits for you to get on the back. You nervously place your hands on his shoulders, unaware of how to sit, he reaches back for your arms, pulling them tight over his stomach and forcing your chest to press against his back. You try to stop yourself from feeling over the strong muscles of his stomach, he turns the bike to make his way down the alley onto the street, speeding up as he enters onto the road. You cling to him and he can’t fight the smile that creeps up on his lips, he revels in your touch no matter the circumstances, he liked that you were holding on to him so tightly seeking safety. The ride to your flat was short but exciting, Simon driving more cautiously than he normally would. He parks the bike outside your building as you remove the helmet passing it to him, you smooth your hair from your face before thanking him and making your way to your door.

You close the door behind you and fall against the wall trying to come to terms with what you were feeling, you didn’t want to take your hands off him, you wanted to press further into his flesh and let your hands roam all over him. You think about exploring his body, feeling his muscles under your palms, his fingers digging into your hips and heat pools in your lower stomach, you bite your lip and in a surge of confidence you open your door again to see him leaning against the bike, smoking a cigarette. You lock eyes and he quirks his head.

“Did you want to come in?” you ask sheepishly and without a second thought he throws his cigarette to the pavement and closes the space between you. It happened so quickly, the door was pushed open and he grabbed your face with both hands, not wasting a minute in attaching his lips to yours, his kisses are feverish, and tongue and teeth and he closes the door with a kick of his leg and moves you back against the wall, he leaves your lips to plant wet kisses down your neck and collarbone as your hands roam over his shoulders, chest, back, any part of him you could reach. You feel his weight press against you as he lifts you up against the wall, lips returning to yours as his tongue begs entry and you oblige. The two of you are a mess of gasps and moans, trying to catch any breath between the kisses, he begins walking you down the small hallway as you direct him to the bedroom in between kisses.

He drops you onto the mattress, lips never leaving yours as you arch your back to lift your shirt and he does the same giving your hands full access to paw at his skin, you feel your fingers over his littered scars you’ll ask later. He reaches down the hem of your pants, looking to you for permission, you nod and attach your lips to his neck as he undresses you, your arms reaching behind your back to remove your bra. You’re left in just your panties, laying on the bed, lips swollen and eyes blown wide in lust while Simon takes a step back to admire you muttering curses under his breath that bring a rosy tint to your cheeks. He kneels down and places a trail of kisses across your bare stomach as your fingers find their way to his scalp, raking through his hair, his fingers come to curl around your underwear before peeling them down your legs as he looks over your dripping pussy.

“Christ, so wet already”

You blush and he smirks before diving in, licking thick stripes up your slit, lapping up every drip he can, teasing it with his fingers before pushing them into you, he’d take his time later, he wanted you, needed to feel you come apart on him. Your head is thrown back, slurs of moans leaving your lips as your fingers grip his hair in an attempt to ground yourself. The combination of his fingers and expert tongue bring you to your peak quickly, your chest tightening as your high builds.

“That’s right pretty girl, cum for me, cum on my fingers”

You let out a loud gasp of his name as you reach your climax, he licks you through it, replacing his fingers with his tongue in order to swallow every last bit of your high. He places a few more kitten licks to your swollen pussy before moving up to entrap you between his arms, reaching down to kiss you.

“Taste so sweet,” he says reaching down to unbutton his pants before taking them off. You glance at his throbbing cock through his boxers, it’s big, bigger than you’ve taken before. He reads your eyes,

“S’alright doll, I’ll be gentle”

“No,” you say but it comes out as a whimper, “want you to fuck me, hard”

A smirk creeps onto his face as he grips your waist, flipping you onto all fours, you’ve barely caught your breath, limbs weak as you try to hold yourself up. He grabs a handful of your ass, placing kisses down your spine before bending to bit lightly at the meat of your ass, you let out a small yelp and he kisses over the skin, teasing the head of his cock through your puffy lips. He plants a firm grip at your hip before pushing into you, letting out a moan. You let out a curt fuck as he pushes in, leaning down to encase you, planting a palm next to your shoulder before he begins slowly pumping into you inch by inch.

“Doing so well love, just a little more”

You can’t help the breathless moans that escape your lips. He bottoms out with a large breath that you feel fanning over your cheek, your arms give out as your face falls in contact with the bed. He pulls himself back up to trace his palm between your shoulder blades as he continues pumping into you. As your pussy adjusts to the size of him you begin moving your body back against him in time with his thrusts, feeling the tip of his cock prodding at your cervix. He brings both hands to knead at the flesh of your ass, spreading the cheeks apart to get a clear view of him fucking you.

“Fucking hell, feel so good love”

He picks up his pace and you hear your headboard colliding with the wall behind it, drool pooling on the sheets under your mouth as you cry out his name.

“That’s right baby, say my name”

“Si- Simon fuck”

He reaches a hand around to toy with your clit and you feel your muscles constrict around his length.

“Fuck squeezin' me so tight”

He reaches a hand around your throat and pulls you upright, your back arched and flush with his chest as he holds you against him, your hands coming to grab at his thick forearm in an attempt to keep yourself upright. You can’t think, your mind clouded with only him, his scent is intoxicating, all you can feel is him. He brings you to your peak, sucking at your neck hard enough that it was sure to leave a mark as you moan into his ear.

“Yes fuck, right there, please Simon”

“Yea, that feel good love”

You nod.

“Words baby”

“Yes God please”

He continues thrusting into you, fingers circling your clit faster as that familiar coil burns in your lower abdomen.

“Shit I’m gonna cum”

“Yea? Fuck cum on me, wanna feel you squeeze my cock”

And you do, you come undone in his arms, your pussy soaking his cock and he fucks you through your second high, never slowing his pace. When you finally come down you’ve lost all control of your body, your thoughts are fuzzy as he flips you onto your back and pushes back into you, bringing your knees to your chest and holding them there. You can’t form words, body overstimulated from your orgasms.

“Not gonna last, where do you want me”

“Inside please, need to feel you,” you say but it comes out as a whisper.

He can’t deny you, not when he has you under him, completely lost in him, begging for his cum, his muscles tense as he slows his thrusts, spilling his hot seed deep into you with a deep grunt. He releases your legs but keeps himself inside, leaning down to kiss your glistening neck, he stays there for a while, both of you catching your breath, basking in the warmth of him.

He removes his softening cock from you and watches as the mixture of both your orgasms spills out before leaving to grab you a warm towel. He runs it over your body, careful to not hit your overstimulated clit before tossing it to the laundry bin and settling down next to you, you reach for him nuzzling into his broad chest as his arm moves to hold you close to him, lips pressed to the crown of your head.

“Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that” he says and you giggle into his chest, hands roaming to feel over his scars.

“They’re old, wounds from when I served,” he says as you glance up at him, “knew you were gonna ask at some point”

You smile, reaching up to kiss him, head falling back against the pillow as he brings his hands the push your hair out of your face, you stare into his eyes, his face gives nothing away but his eyes, they’re full of emotion, he looks at you like you hold the world. You feel yourself growing tired as you cuddle back into him,

“Stay here,” you say

“Okay”, you feel the deep rumble of his voice through his chest as you close your eyes letting the warmth of him comfort you into sleep.

The two of you are woken to the loud noise of banging at your door, you open your eyes slowly, your limbs are tangled between Simon’s as his arms hold you close, cursing to yourself that you’d have to leave him. You move from his chest and throw on some pants and his shirt, making your way to the door, opening it your heart falls to the floor.

“Alex” your chest feels empty, why was he here, how did he find you?

“Hey babe”

You shake your head trying to close the door but he places his foot in the way.

“Can we just talk”

“No - I left for a reason” You glance back at Simon in your bed, still asleep. “You need to leave”

He follows your eyes, “Is someone here” The tone in his voice grows angrier as he pushes the door to let himself in, you stumble back.

“Alex please, go home I don’t want you here” you beg as tears prick your eyes, it had taken everything in you to leave him and here he was in your apartment.

“Who the fuck is that” he yells turning back to you, invading your space and forcing your body to move back against the wall as your arms come up to plead defence.

“You leave me and move here to fuck some other guy, you fucking slut”

“Alex please”

His hand makes firm contact with the wall beside your head, making you flinch as your tears start to flow down your cheeks.

“What is wrong with you, I gave you everything”

Before you can object a deep voice calls from the other side of the room.

“I’d back off if I were you”

You look up, eyes locking on Simon’s and you can see the anger that's burning it’s way to the surface

“Seriously, hey just fuck off man this doesn’t concern you,” your ex says, turning his attention towards the large man.

“It concerns me plenty,” Simon says crossing the room to tower over Alex

“Simon please” you beg, he can see in your eyes that you don’t want him to hurt Alex, but every fibre of his being wants to kill him, slit his throat and throw his body into some alley for the rats to feed on. Alex puffs his chest and pushes at Simon with his hands, he doesn’t move an inch, tilting his head down to glare at your ex's face.

“You need to leave”

“You fucking leave, she’s my girlfriend”

Simon feels his anger come to a tipping point as he grabs Alex’s neck and shoves him against a wall, your quiet pleas lost in his fit of rage. Alex brushes him off, sparing you a final glance.

“This isn’t over, I’ll be back,” he says before leaving, slamming the door behind him hard enough that you jump. You sink backwards against the wall.

“Are you alright?” Simon asks scanning your body for any evidence that you were hurt.

You shake your head, “You shouldn’t have done that”

“He was hurting you-”

“No Simon, you don’t understand, he’s not going to stop, he followed me here” Your cheeks are stained with tears, your breath heavy.

“Then I’ll deal with him,” he says slowly bringing his hands to hold your face as you stare up at him. God help any man who tried to hurt you in his presence, “I promise, he’s never going to touch you again”

You sniffle, trying to catch your breath as he wraps his arms to hold you, this was just another person he’d have to take care of, he’d kill everyone if it meant keeping you safe. The two of you stand in the living room, not a word shared between you as he just continues to hold you, shushing your quiet sobs, placing tender kisses on the crown of your head. You felt safe in his arms, your anxiety settling as his palms caress over your spine.

“I’ll kill ‘em if I have to”

You release a giggle, as Simon smiles but he’s being serious. After a few minutes, the two of you continue your morning, Simon making tea as he doesn’t trust you to do it properly while you stand in the shower, letting the warm water ease your tense muscles.

You jump as the curtain pulls back, Simon’s head popping in, eyes lingering on your naked form.

“Take a picture why don’t you”

“Don’t tempt me”

You laugh at his remark.

“I’ve gotta head over to the pub” his eyes full of lust, every bit of him trying hard to not jump in the shower with you, “I’ll see you over there in a bit yea?”

You nod leaning over to kiss him, biting lightly at his lower lip.

“Minx,” he says and splashes some of the water at you.

Simon leaves and you continue with your morning, drying off from the shower and getting dressed for work. You weren’t sure how the new dynamic would work, you had always found Simon attractive but this was new, you’d never slept with someone you had to see every day. You didn’t know if this was a one-time thing, you hoped it wasn’t but Simon wasn’t the best about vocalizing his emotions, you didn’t want to just come out and ask, so you’d have to wait, test the waters, see how he felt about you.

By noon you had made your way to the pub, the cool air inside a welcome sensation after your walk in the warm air outside, you settle your things, peeking around the corner to try and find him.

“Simon?”

No response, maybe he was upstairs, you’d never been to his flat and it felt strange to just invite yourself in so you stayed in the pub, finding tasks to complete while you waited for him. A few minutes pass and you hear a loud crash from upstairs.

“Si?” you yell, hoping it’s him upstairs and not some robber, silence fills the next minute before you see him emerge from the back door looking a little dishevelled.

“Hey love, make it here okay?” he asks placing a kiss on your lips. You’re a little taken aback at his quick pace.

“Yeah fine, what was that noise”

He looks over to you taking a beat, “Knocked a chair over, was rushing around too quick I guess”

You nod, not fully believing him but trusting him enough that you didn’t pry further. The two of you fell into routine, pouring drinks for regulars, restocking liquor, cleaning glasses, having small conversations between customers.

“I’ve gotta check something in the flat, I’ll be back quick,” he says rushing up the back stairs.

You occupy yourself cleaning as you hear more noise from upstairs, deciding you needed to check it out for yourself. You make your way up the back stairs, slowly opening the door to the flat peering inside. It wasn’t anything spectacular, essentially just one large room, a bed at the far wall in front of a window, there was a small kitchen tucked against another wall, everything was very clean, it looked like he never used the furniture. You look around for him as you step into the room, following the sound of his heavy breaths around a corner, he’s standing at a large window looking out, a creak in the floor alerts him to your presence.

“Hey, sorry not as quick as I thought”

You look around, nothing is out of place so what was all the noise?

“It’s alright, just heard banging, didn’t know if you needed help with something”

“Huh? Oh- no was just looking for something, forgot where I’d placed it”

“Placed what”

He looks at you, jaw slack as he tries to think of a response.

“My tags, dog tags, wanted to throw them in with the rest of my stuff just couldn’t remember where they were”

You glance over, eyes locking on his bedside table, you flick your head in their direction.

“Found ‘em”

He huffs a laugh, crossing the room to pick them up, toying with them in his hands before moving over to you. He glances down at you, raising his arms to place the chain around your neck, you stare up at him, quirking your brow.

“Look better on you” he says, leaning to kiss your forehead.

Your fingers come up to fiddle with the tags, eyeing them over, Lt. Simon Riley, well at least you knew his last name now.

“Did you close up”

You shake your head.

“Right well, meet you outside in 5. I’ll drive you home”

He begins walking away,

“Why don’t we stay here tonight,” you ask and he stops in his tracks, “Easier that way, don’t have to wake up any earlier to get to work”

He thinks it through in his head, he’s never had anyone in his flat, let alone stay the night, but it’s you.

“Yea alright, just give me a minute to close downstairs”

You nod, taking the time to further explore the space. Lots of books, a guitar sat in the corner, no pictures, he had barely anything on the shelves, it looked like he only used the space to sleep if that, the bed was perfectly made, not a single wrinkle in the sheets. You strip your body of your clothes, rummaging through his drawers to find a shirt, throwing it over your form as you settle into the bed, senses overtaken by his scent that lingers on the pillows. Simon steps back into the room, eyes landing on your half-naked form,

“Comfy”

“Very,” you say, stretching your limbs over the mattress as you feel it dip from his weight. He lays back and you crawl over him, legs caging his hips as his arms secure themselves around your back, chin nuzzled into your neck.

You revel in his warmth as he places light kisses over the skin not covered by his shirt, making his way to nip at your neck eliciting a small moan from you. You crane your neck to bring your lips to his, kissing him softly as his hands move down to grab at your ass. Your kisses become feverish as you feel yourself grow needier, light pushing your lips against him, Simon moves to kiss along your jaw, lips settling under your ear.

“What do you want pretty girl”

“You, need you,” you say through gasps, grinding yourself down onto his hardening cock

“Need me to what”

“Need to feel you, need to feel your cock inside me”

“Atta girl” He grips your hips with bruising strength as he grinds you back and forth against him, your hands moving to plant on his chest as your clit catches on the fabric of his boxers.

He moves you at a brutal pace and you can feel the arousal pooling in your lower stomach.

“Soakin’ me already baby, you gonna cum just from grinding on me”

You bite your lip, nodding as the sensation takes over your body, your legs tensing as you dig your nails into his flesh, your slick leaking from your orgasm, soaking through your panties onto his hard length.

He lifts you off him, pulling his boxers down, his throbbing length slapping at the skin of his lower abdomen.

“Wanna ride you” you say breathlessly as Simon smirks.

You push yourself up, lining his cock up with your weeping cunt before settling down on him, taking him slowly, gasping at the stretch. His hands grab at your shirt, lifting it over your head before his lips move to kiss at your breasts, tongue teasing over your hard nipple as your fingers rest on his shoulders stabilizing you. Once you settled you begin bouncing slowly up and down his cock, your juices leaking down pooling at the base, and coating his pubic hair. He leans back, hands on your hips encouraging you to continue, he thrusts up abruptly, forcing your body forward, hands planting on his firm chest and you continue to ride him, the friction from his pubes hitting just the right spot that you’re able to grind your clit against him

“That’s right pretty girl, use me, make yourself cum on my cock”

You lean down to kiss him and his arms wrap around your back, holding you to him as he plants his feet against the mattress and begins thrusting up into you at a brutal pace, your head falls to his neck as choked sobs escape your lips. You bite down on the meat of his shoulder, hands grasping at the sheets as he continues to fuck you.

“Fuck - look at me, wanna see you when you make a mess all over my cock”

You arch your back, head coming to rest against his forehead as you stare down at him, your jaw’s fallen open, strings of moans escaping as he reaches to kiss you, forcing his tongue into your mouth as he continues his assault on your pussy.

“Fuck, m’gonna cum”

“That’s right, good girl, wanna feel you squeeze me”

He latches his lips to yours, swallowing the moans that come from your orgasm, fucking you through it at a brutal pace as he chases his own high.

“Fuck you feel so good, so tight” He groans eyes locking onto where your bodies meet, mesmerized at the sight of your pussy swallowing his large cock. You dig your nails into his shoulders as he grips tightly around you, thrusting a few more times until he lets out a loud moan and you feel your pussy being filled by his warm seed, pumping a few more times, letting you milk him dry as your foreheads come into contact again, the two of you rest against each other trying to catch your breath, he places a kiss to your lips before slowly rolling you over onto your side, holding you tight to his chest where you plant kisses over his scars.

You fall asleep quickly, your body tired and mind quiet at the sensation of Simon's breaths against your cheek, he listens to your breathing, his own mind racing with thoughts. He had followed your ex from your flat, conveniently walking down the street near the pub as Simon invited him in for a drink and a chat, Alex had obliged entering the doors before Simon locked them and wrapped his arms around his neck effectively incapacitating Alex, he wasn’t thinking, all he could feel was his anger, he hated him for hurting you, hating the fact that he had even been able to touch you even more, you were his, no one would touch you except him. He had dragged Alex’s body up the short flight of stairs into his flat, positioning him near the bathroom, giving him time to wake up before continuing his assault, he wanted him to feel every hit, every bruise and ache that would remind him not to go near you, Simon landed blow after blow to his body, blood spitting from his mouth pooling under his head. He didn’t mean to kill him, but somewhere along the way, his sight turned black, his fists moving on their own accord coming into contact with Alex’s head.

Simon stood back, catching his breath now fully aware of what he had done, ignorant to your presence downstairs he grabbed the body leaving it in the bathtub, he would come back later when his head was clear to clean up.

When he finally returned upstairs later he knew he had to be quick, wrapping the body and tossing it out the window into the alley behind, he knew the routine of the sanitation workers, he had enough time to take you home and come back to responsibly dispose of your ex so that no one would know it was him. What he didn’t account for was you, standing in his flat as his hands were wet with soapy water from cleaning the blood off the floor, he panicked, he couldn’t lie to you, he wanted you to trust him, but his instinct to protect you from who he really was took over.

He never planned on giving you his tags, but seeing the smile on your face after he put them on you he can’t picture you without them, a chain around your neck with his name, a visible marker to let him know that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

He couldn’t sleep, even with the comfort of your body next to his, he had to clean up before you noticed anything. Carefully he removed himself from your arms, watching the way you tucked into yourself at the loss of warmth, he made his way over to the window to look upon the corpse, devising a plan that would allow him to get rid of it only for his eyes to focus on an empty alley.

The body was gone?

726 notes · View notes

ikeuverse · 5 months

Text

ICED CARAMEL — p.jongseong

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, slight angst WC: 3.7k+

WARNINGS: light swearing, a bit of a stalker and inconvenient guy with jay (y/n put that guy in his place). and that's it, let me know if i've forgotten anything.

NOTES: i've had this plot in mind for a while, but i didn't know which member of enhypen it could fit in with. thinking that it's been a while since i last wrote for jay, i decided to do this story, his. so enjoy, i hope you like it!

masterlist

An iced caramel almost every day of the week, except Friday, when it was an iced vanilla latte accompanied by a slice of cranberry cake.

Jay didn't know why he had decorated your order so meticulously. Maybe he knew, he just didn't want to admit it to himself. Even more so when his cousin – and also a cafeteria employee – was a pain in the ass every time you came in to spend the afternoon working.

"Your girlfriend's here" Sunghoon whispered as he closed the cash register, turning his body towards Jay and smiling broadly when he noticed his cousin's cheeks starting to take on a reddish tinge.

"She's not my girlfriend, asshole" Jay growled lowly and almost picked up the dishcloth to hit Sunghoon if it hadn't been for your presence near the counter.

"Hi."

Jay froze for a few seconds. The angelic voice and contagious smile you gave every afternoon you came in made the boy sigh just by existing in front of him.

"Hi, y/n" Sunghoon greeted you first, while the other still stared at you without saying anything "Same as always?"

"Yes, please" you said.

"Jay will take you to your desk in a moment" Sunghoon smiled back and let you walk away to your usual desk to sit down, picking up your work materials and focusing on your notebook.

Those few minutes of interaction felt like hours, because Jay only realized it when he felt Sunghoon's push against his body, bringing him out of the little trance he had entered without even realizing it.

"Stop acting like an idiot or she'll notice" he whispered.

"Realize what?" Jay whispered back.

It was then that Sunghoon let out a soft sigh, not wanting to attract the attention of the few customers in the café.

"That you're into her, Jongseong" he then rolled his eyes, preparing the iced caramel you always ordered since it was Wednesday.

You're into her. Sunghoon's words have echoed fervently in Jay's head countless times since he caught himself thinking about you.

It's not like it was your fault or his fault in the first place. Ever since Jay and Sunghoon decided to take over their grandfather's coffee shop, they've gotten to know the place's loyal customers. You arrived a few months after they took over, asking for Mr. Park, the nice little man who always served you the best-iced caramel in the area.

You had also recently moved into the building at the end of the street. The huge commercial building that Jay had seen you enter a few times after you left the coffee shop. You also chatted with him a lot of the time, since Sunghoon took care of the cashier and often cleaned up his cousin's mess in the kitchen. This gave Jay time to check out the customers – there were rarely more than three people there at the end of the day – so it was just you and one other woman there until closing time.

It was a rather pleasant routine, and it made Jay start fantasizing about your beauty and how your friendliness made him feel. Even Sunghoon wanted to admit that one day he heard his cousin whining because you'd gone to get coffee and hadn't stayed to talk.

"Maybe she's busy with work" Sunghoon tried to calm him down since he'd gotten the amount of sugar in the brownie wrong for the third time. Jay didn't want to lose another pastry because of a silly distraction.

Or not so silly when he started to notice how the conversations were getting longer. Sometimes both he and you forgot that you were working. You wouldn't respond properly to emails, while Jay would let Sunghoon take over the running of the establishment just to sit in front of you and talk for a long time.

You shouldn't treat a customer so intimately, Jongseong. He could hear his grandfather's voice very well if you were there. Surely Grandpa Park would take him out of the coffee shop and leave only Sunghoon there, as a form of punishment for making his cousin deal with everything while he sighed unconsciously at the figure of the wonderful woman in front of him.

"Take it to her and, please, act naturally" Sunghoon finished his coffee and closed the cup, handing it to Jay "Unless you're brave enough to propose…"

"That's not going to happen" Jay was quick to say.

"Then watch the coffee, or I'll take it out of your paycheck."

He wanted so badly to curse his cousin right then but settled for a small grimace as he watched Sunghoon serve two other customers.

Jay slowly walked up to the second floor of the café. It was more secluded and quieter than the entrance hall, which many people liked because of the view. You, in particular, preferred to stay in the corner of the small months of that place because it was more private and quiet. That way your work could be completed and, as a bonus, you'd get to spend a few minutes chatting with Jay.

That wasn't in your plans. Smiling like an idiot at one of the owners of the coffee shop you went to every day. It was unethical with his work and, above all, you could have been taking advantage of him as a customer since Jay was only being nice to you.

He could be like that with all his clients, you thought. You really wanted to sabotage yourself so you tried not to think about the guy so much. Big mistake. Because every time he came to deliver your coffee, staying for a chat, you found yourself deeper and deeper in the pit of desire. The wish that you could ask him out or simply tell him how beautiful he was.

Would that be so bad?

"Your iced caramel right here" Jay's voice made your thoughts fly away. A quick smile adorned his lips as he approached and, as soon as he placed the glass on the table, he pulled out a chair in front of you to sit down.

You took the drink quickly to feel the cold, caramelized taste go down your throat. It was as addictive as looking at Jay and that smile he was wearing.

"Busy day?" the boy asked after a few seconds in silence, just watching you sip your drink.

"And tiring" you put the glass down again "Not to mention it's stressing me out a bit."

"Do you want to share?"

You wanted so much to tell Jay what was bothering you. To tell him how you felt and why you were so stressed about everything that was happening, but fate had something else in store for you.

"Y/n" that voice gave you the creeps, that's for sure. You closed your eyes for a few seconds as you heard footsteps approaching.

"Terry" you tried to smile at the man as soon as you opened your eyes and saw his figure standing right behind Jay.

Terry looked at the boy sitting in front of him with apparent disgust as he looked back at you.

"Am I in the way of something?" Terry asked.

"Yes" you whispered.

"No" Jay said loudly, getting up from his chair and straightening his cafeteria apron "I was already leaving anyway."

"No, Jay…" your weak voice didn't give him a chance to hear you as you packed up your chair to leave.

"Bye y/n, enjoy your coffee."

He left so quickly that you didn't even manage to call him by his surname, let alone shout any syllables to make him understand that he could stay. So, now looking at Terry right in front of you, the man had a serious countenance that made you nauseous.

"Are you seeing that barista?" he sounded disgusted as he spoke.

"What if I am?" you retorted.

"Then it would be very decadent of you to deny me dinner, instead of agreeing to go out with this…"

"Look, Terry" you cut him off gently, even though he didn't deserve anything coming from you "If you've come here to say something about it, please, it's the place I like to work. I don't like being interrupted."

The man just nodded in agreement, waving a briefcase in his hands that you hadn't realized he was carrying until just then.

"I've come to give you this, the boss asked for it" Terry left it on the table where you were sitting "And maybe you and I…"

"Terry, please" you sighed loudly this time "No."

He shook his head once more, turning his lips into a thin line as he took a few steps back. Slowly walking away before saying goodbye to you and walking down the stairs of the café.

Terry stared angrily across the room at Jay as if he had done the most horrible thing in the world, before opening the door and leaving almost immediately.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, realized this and looked at his cousin, who had a serious look on his face. His eyebrows were knitted together in a scowl that he had seen only a few times on Jay.

"May I ask what happened upstairs?" he asked.

Jay just sighed, trying to ignore the fact that his heart was still racing and he had no idea what had happened upstairs since he had left. But something inside him was bothering him, Jay wanted not to feel that kind of thing.

"Just… Please…" he finished arranging the sweets in the display case, closing the glass and raising his body after he'd finished his work "From today onwards, it's up to you to bring the coffee to y/n's table, okay?"

Torturous weeks in which Jay didn't show up to deliver your coffee in person. You knew very well that it was because of Terry's appearance that day and how extremely unnecessary he was with Jay.

You wanted to ask if the man had said anything after he left, but he never even came to your table. Always ordered Sunghoon to hand over his things with the excuse that the movement was driving him crazy. Or that there were some sweets left to prepare, so he couldn't leave at the moment. Your mind was screaming at you to ask what was going on or if it was all in your head because it was affecting you much more than you wanted it to.

Friday, the day you ordered a slice of cranberry cake and Jay always made a joke that it was the cake that came out the least. That he, in particular, had never eaten a necessary and worthy piece except for tastings when he made the pastry. With Sunghoon's help, because he did like it, Jay wasn't a big fan of that cake.

And you were beginning not to want to ask if the result was that he didn't bring it. Not that you hated Sunghoon… Not at all! He was nice, and funny. It ran in the family, that's for sure. But there was something about Jay that you couldn't explain. Something that had ripped every fiber out of your body simply because you couldn't stop thinking about him, and that was only making it harder as he became more and more distant.

"I'll kill you, Terry" you said to yourself when, once again, you saw Sunghoon approaching with your request.

He seemed to guess that some question was meant for him, so the boy always answered something different than the last time. It was as if Sunghoon wrote down every answer he gave you so as not to repeat any and try to convince you that Jay was too busy.

"The macarons are a lot of work today" he smiled, taking the plate of cake from the tray along with his iced coffee of the day "Jay is very busy and…"

"Sunghoon, can I ask you something?" if it wasn't now, it wouldn't be ever again. You had to have the courage to ask, after all, what harm would it do? He could run away from your question or simply lie and walk away as if nothing had happened.

"Of course" he continued, smiling at you after your order had been placed on the table.

"Is Jay avoiding me because that man was here the other day?"

Yes.

"Not that I know of" Sunghoon wanted to abandon the intrusive voice in his mind to answer the obvious, but decided to stick to what he had promised his cousin "He's not avoiding you, it's just that—"

"Terry is absolutely nothing to me, Sunghoon" maybe they both thought that idiot was his boyfriend because he thought he could be something other than a work colleague. And an idiot who didn't know how to take an attack.

"No?" Sunghoon seemed surprised by that confession, making you laugh.

"He's just a jerk who thinks he's something to me" you took a piece of your pie to eat "Terry asked me out a few times, but I politely declined. Now he won't stop bothering me."

"He's an idiot" Sunghoon shrugged, making you laugh again.

So things were falling into place now and he could understand why the man had left with a frown the day he entered the coffee shop. Maybe he'd met Jay upstairs, thought of something and you'd blown him off after Jay came down.

"You know what, y/n?" Sunghoon pulled out the chair in front of you, sitting down just as Jay used to do when he took your order to the table. You paid close attention to everything the boy in front of you said, afraid of missing some important part of what he had to say "Both you and Jay are wasting your time."

"Hello? What… What do you mean?" luckily you took your time drinking your iced coffee, otherwise, you would have choked on Sunghoon's sincerity.

It was the boy's turn to laugh and relax as he leaned back in his chair.

"You know very well what I'm talking about" he tried to suppress a smile as he stared at his slice of porpoise being cut by the fork and you playing with the topping "That was a misunderstanding on account of that idiot… What's his name again?"

"Terry" you said.

"Yes, Terry" Sunghoon continued "And I think both you and Jay need to talk about this."

"And how am I supposed to do that if he's avoiding me?" you sighed, eating the cake you loved so much while looking at the other Park in front of you.

"Well, I can fix that next week" Sunghoon smiled, making you smile too as you finished chewing your cake to answer him.

"How will you do that?"

"I need to think about it because Jay is very difficult when he wants to be" he prepared to get up, greeting you before leaving "But I promise to help you both. I can't stand seeing my cousin and that scowl all day."

Waving to you, Sunghoon left to continue serving the other customers. Leaving you pensive and, strangely, looking forward to next week.

Jay felt like an idiot for having that kind of resentment towards you. He hardly knew what had happened, in fact, but seeing you walk into the cafeteria only made his chest tighten.

Why feel that way about someone he barely knew? Come on, Jongseong. You were just talking! He wanted to faithfully believe that it was just that, that he couldn't be fooled by someone who was a loyal – and incredibly beautiful – customer of his workplace.

It didn't help when Sunghoon made a point of calling you to the counter, taking longer than usual to take the weekly order that everyone already knew by heart. This could only be a huge joke on his cousin's part.

"Can you prepare y/n's coffee?" Sunghoon asked in a low voice. Jay shook his head and looked ahead, noticing that you were sitting at a table further away, but now downstairs and not upstairs as you usually did.

"Why? I'm busy and—"

"I need to attend to the tables upstairs, everything's full" that part wasn't a lie. But Sunghoon didn't have to tell him that he had already waited at half the tables and only had to take a bottle of water to a girl who had ordered without any hurry.

Jay didn't have much to deny you, after all, you were a customer and he couldn't afford to miss an order like that. So, preparing your iced caramel as he always did, he felt his fingers almost crack the plastic when the door opened, revealing Terry.

That man at whom Jay felt a sudden rage just from the exchange of glances between them.

Terry didn't even bother to say hello, walking over to the table where you were and sitting down without saying a word. Now, more than quickly, Jay had to finish your order and run to the table to give it to you. At least to find out what was going on and what Terry was doing there.

The iced caramel was prepared with care, even though the boy's nerves were on edge just to run to the table. As soon as he arrived, Jay hissed softly to get his and Terry's attention.

"Your iced caramel" Jay placed the glass on the table "Sunghoon is busy with the tables upstairs…"

"Thanks, Jay" you took a long sip of the drink, the familiar taste making your whole body relax as you looked at the boy and then at Terry "Aren't you leaving?"

Jay almost froze, thinking the question had been directed at him, but no. His eyes didn't leave Terry as the question was asked.

"We need to talk, y/n."

Your gaze soon met Jay's, he looked as lost as you because this wasn't part of Sunghoon's plans. You, in fact, had no idea what the other Park had prepared. And speaking of him, the boy's orbs were almost popping out when he saw Jay standing near your desk and Terry sitting right in front of you.

Sunghoon didn't think much of it and quickly went over to all of you to see what was going on.

"Hey, is everything all right with your order around here?" he asked.

"Yes," you smiled, "Terry was just leaving."

There was a short silence before he got ready to leave. He didn't wave or look back as he left the café in heavy, hurried steps, leaving you with the two Park baristas standing next to your table.

"Y/n… Are you okay?" Sunghoon asked.

"I have to go" for the first time all week, you left without finishing your coffee. Without saying goodbye to either of you and, what's more, without smiling as you always did when you walked through the door and waved to the guys at the counter.

"Go after her" Sunghoon turned quickly to his cousin.

"What? I—"

"Jay, go after her. Now!" he ordered so desperately that it was as if Sunghoon depended on it. And, of course, he did. Because his cousin's performance had gone downhill after that weather. You also didn't seem as cheerful as you always did, even on the most troubled days at work.

So he felt he had to do something, and he knew he'd made the right request as soon as Jay quickly untied his apron and ran out of the café. Almost tripping over his own feet as he tried to catch up.

Sunghoon could handle things on his own for a few minutes, he thought. Because if his cousin had asked him to run, Jay wasn't going to disobey. He wouldn't miss his chance even if he didn't think he had one.

"Y/n!" he shouted so loudly when he saw you cross the street to enter the huge corporate building on the other side.

To Jay's surprise, you turned around so quickly that you were only able to process the boy's presence when he had already crossed and stopped right in front of you.

He was panting, his hair tousled by the wind and the light jog. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to normalize his breathing and looked at you so closely that you wondered if you had ever been in such proximity before.

"Jay? Why are you here? Why… did you come running?"

You also tried to fight the urge to scream at the sight of him standing right in front of you. The smell of cologne invading your nostrils and realizing that you were completely right when, one night, you fantasized that he was annoyingly smelly.

And even more beautiful once he was bent over far enough, leaning his forehead against yours.

"I don't know what I'm doing here, to tell you the truth" he whispered so close that you couldn't tell if that slight breath of air was Jay's breathing or the wind off the street "I just felt like I needed to come."

"I guess you did the right thing, then."

If Jay didn't know why you'd run over there – or he did – you were going to pretend you didn't either because your hands went to his face to pull him closer, before you felt Jay's lips against yours.

That had been the perfect kiss for as long as you could remember. The way he managed to hold you, tangle his tongue in yours, and press his lips to yours… It was as if Jay's mouth had been made to kiss you. As if that moment had to happen that way.

After breathing became necessary for both of you, Jay made a point of still staying close to you after the kiss stopped, just feeling your breathing normalize against his mouth before laughing softly.

"What?" you asked, laughing along with him as Jay's hand slid slowly down your cheek.

"I never thought I'd like iced caramel like that…"

For a few seconds, you didn't understand what he meant, but as soon as Jay kissed you again, holding your face firmly between his hands, you knew.

The coffee he had prepared minutes before was on your lips, now being transferred to Jay. He knew it was your favorite, he knew iced caramel was famous for a reason. He just didn't know he'd get hooked on tasting it any other way.

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #jay fluff #jay angst #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jay #jongseong fluff #park jongseong fluff #park jongseong angst #enhypen masterlist #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #jay fanfics #jay x reader #park jay x reader #enhypen imagines

274 notes · View notes

windvexer · 2 months

Text

To prepare a feeding oil for spells, for the purpose of charging spell vessels without direct energy work

In my strain of witchcraft, feeding of any spell (such as amulets or wards) is best done by applying a charmed physical substance, such as oil or incense. To use direct energy work is a stopgap solution not suitable for normal upkeep. To imagine the spell refilled with energy, without active energy work, is never a suitable solution.

Feeding of spells can be made from a chore into a breeze (*1950s commercial transition*) with the use of a small quantity of pre-charmed oil, such as olive oil, or any shelf-stable cooking oil (not E.O.). The most basic of these formulas is only a fat or oil with no other ingredients added.

Charming about an ounce or 30ml of oil will last months or more, even if you use it often.

The preparation is best performed on a Monday or full moon, or from the turning from midnight to the new day. Re-enchant the oil as often as desired, especially if it couldn't be initially enchanted under ideal conditions.

Put the entire quantity of oil you want to use in a clean, sealable container. Take the oil to a place free-flowing with magical power, such as under the full moon, in the presence of your allied gods, or within a cast circle teeming with elemental power.

Enter magical headspace through trance or any technique you prefer.

Using a clean stirring stick, or with a very clean finger, stir the oil clockwise while petitioning the powers in your presence. Call to the full moon, gods, elementals, and so forth, and ask them to bless the oil for the purpose of feeding, so that when spells consume it, the spell is revitalized and made fat with power. Speak plainly or plan a rhyme ahead of time. Work over the oil with constant stirring for several minutes, or until every petition is made, or until you have said everything that needs to be said.

When intuition advises, or when there's nothing left to be done, perform a sealing charm ("so mote it be" or variants) over the oil.

Thank all present powers and, if your tradition recommends it, provide payment as necessary.

If any energy is left raised, ground all of it into the oil.

Seal and set aside. Close the ritual as you normally do.

To feed a spell as you are casting it, or after it has been cast, dab a bit of the oil onto a tissue or Q-tip and wipe it on the spell vessel. Avoid sticking fingers into the jar as bacteria helps oils go rancid.

Re-enchant the oil in the same method as often as you like. To top off the oil, add more oil and re-enchant.

96 notes · View notes

moumouton4 · 1 year

Text

What Did You Just Call Me ?!? || Dabi x fem!reader

Part 2 : My name Is Toya Todoroki

A/n : Finally I did it 🎇 ( if you have a better title throw it in the comments lmao 🤣 )

Part 1 : An Unforgiving Mistake 🔊

Masterlist ⚜

Warnings : mostly fluff, sexual innuendo, implied sex at the end AND the event of Mha aren't respected because you know that the city was destroyed after Shigaraki's attack

Summary : You had a violent argument that you had after you accidentally said his real name while doing it. He then left claiming that your relationship was the biggest mistake he ever made. However, it seems that he is more inclined to go back on those words now that you are not the only one who knows about his true identity

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Words count : 2199

You saw what he did on TV, of course you were shocked but you weren't surprised, it wasn't going to stay hidden indefinitely, you didn't know the full extent of what was going on but you had a hunch that it was just the tip of the iceberg.

You were in front of your TV, watching a series, wrapped in the warmth of a plaid, a chocolate fudge on a plate in your lap. When the commercials came on, you decided to change the channel instead of havong to watch it. Suddenly the screen went black. At first you thought it was an antenna problem, then an image appeared and you never thought you would see your boyfriend - or ex-boyfriend you didn't know since the last time - live on TV - and shirtless.

Your eyes didn't have time to wander as he began to speak in a deep voice. You were struck not by the fact that he was shirtless when he normally hid his scars, but by the beginning of his monologue "My name is Toya Todoroki. My father is the number one hero, Endeavour..."

The more you listened to him speak, the more your eyes widened, he had only been conceived for a question of quirk alloy. How disgusting ! He even pulled out a DNA test proving his connection to the hero he seemed to hate more than the plague.

You grabbed your phone to call Shigaraki, wanting to ask him if this was planned but were stopped by the same thing you were watching on TV appearing on your phone. So everything was planned. What the hell is going on !

You refocused on his short speech, understanding little by little why he had reacted like that, and knowing his short temper it would have gone even further than that. You didn't even realize that tears had started to fall from your eyes and you wiped your eyes when you were no longer able to see anything but a blurred image. His anger and threats were probably to make sure you didn't make that mistake again while surrounded by other people, because a very famous hero was involved and he knew better than anyone what his infamous father was capable of.

You sat on the couch to digest your shock, your plate forgotten on the other side of the couch and your tears had long since dried on your cheeks. Your eyes intently staring at the TV even though the newsflash that had hogged all the channels had passed hours ago. "And what now ?" you thought, but you didn't have time to think more as a knock on the door brought you out of your trance.

You got up without thinking much about it, walking barefoot to the door, your plaid still on your shoulders. You put your keys in the door and turned them to open it. Your eyes widened and your blanket fell to the floor as your mouth opened in astonishment, letting out a gasp.

With his newly white hair, you thought you were seeing the boy you had seen that night in the photo in Endeavour's Agency office. But he was in bad shape, he looked like he had been hit by a truck. He had severe wounds and blood had dried on the staples of his hands. He must have gotten into a fight, which would mean that the newsflash you saw on TV was probably not live.

You were certainly shocked to see him again - and he could see it in your eyes - but you gathered your composure to speak "Dabi-"

"I know you may not want to see my face here but I have something to tell you before leaving"

"Leaving ?" you thought, with the state he's in ?!? No matter how angry you were - and still are - at him you weren't going to let him leave like this.

"Wait wait wait you've seen the state you're in ?!? You think I'm going to let you go back like this ?!? Stop your nonsense and get in" you said with a commanding tone "It's not like you don't know the place" you said under your breath.

And to your surprise - and perhaps because he was remorseful - he said nothing and stepped through the door. You poked your head out briefly to see if anyone had followed him and doubled the door before blocking it with a chair - you can never be too careful.

"Hey don't start bossing me around" he retorted but you gave him a look that made him gulp and he went to sit down as you had asked him to, feeling that he had come to smooth things over and not to make them worse.

You came back with everything he needed. You gave him an ice pack that he passed over various parts of his heated body, while you disinfected his wounds first. You couldn't help but apologize when he hissed through his teeth as the antiseptic touched his skin. "Tell yourself that if it hurts, it's because it's working" you tried to divert his attention. After a good ten minutes you looked up to see him staring at you with his azure orbs.

"I'm going to have to add one more right here" you said as you took his hand in yours and showed him the staples that had come off his wrist "That's why it was hurting like hell then" he said.

"You didn't go easy did you ? It's going to be fine though" you gave him a cloth to bite into, you took a staple and put it on a small device you had bought a while ago for situation like this "3... 2... 1... now" you pressed hard enough that the staple fit into his skin in one go so it wouldn't hurt for more than a fraction of a second - you had the hang of it now.

"Hsssss !" "Sorry I know it hurts" you removed the towel from his mouth and closed your first aid kit. As you were about to get up to get him a glass of water he grabbed you - with his other hand - to hold you back and almost immediately let go fearing you would reject his touch. But to his surprise you stopped in your tracks and turned back to him.

"Oh yes, it's true that you came here to talk to me" you pulled up a chair and sat down opposite him at the table "Go ahead, I'm listening"

Except that now that you were listening to him it was as if no words could come out of his mouth. His thoughts were racing, it was like a storm under his skull. You looked strangely okay, you wouldn't have looked so relaxed - except for the surprise of seeing him again - if you had seen what he had made sure to put on every srceen of the country. He felt oddly stressed as if he'd better not fuck up tihs talk to keep the relationship he had - or at least hoped he still had with you.

He rubbed awkwardly the back of his neck "Did you watch TV or your phone- I mean first thank you for taking care of thiss regardless of what happened last time-"

"Ooh I didn't forget" you said crossing your arms over your chest "But I'd rather fix you than let you bleed to death on my doorstep" you said in a laughing tone trying to ease the tension in the air. It didn't seem to be conclusive because he clenched his jaw and stared even deeper into your eyes. So you spoke again, sensing that he would probably need a boost to be able to speak fluently.

"Yes I was watching TV earlier, it takes guts and courage to do what you did, I'm proud of you and I understand why-"

"No please don't start with that shit. Don't say you understand me when I'm the one who came to apologize" there he finally said it, he had come to apologize, well you suspected it anyway so you waved him on.

"Ughhh I don't even know where to start..." he was never very good at talking but here it seemed beyond possible. He drew in a long breath "I fucked up last time... it took me off guard when you came up with that old name. But you would have known anyway at some point so I shouldn't have gotten angry and told you that we were the biggest mistake I ever made... quite the opposite in fact, I didn't regret once letting you get close to me..."

He continued his monologue, running his hands over his face or through his white locks from time to time, he clearly wasn't used to talking so much and it felt strange - yet you were listening and didn't seem closed to discussion "...I'm sorry. Here's what I had to say... I better go now"

At these words you jumped up from your chair and placed yourself in front of him. "You didn't think I was going to let you leave like that ? Did you ?" you asked, but you didn't even wait for his answer as you took him in your arms - without hurting him - your hands crossing over his ripped t-shirt on his back. He almost gasped, he wouldn't have believed that after what he had told you last time that he would still be legitimate in this affection. His arms gently came around you and he pulled you to him, his head resting on yours, symbol of the pillar you were in his life. This way he was feeling like you were hugging his soul.

You pulled back, watching his facial features for a moment before placing a quick peck on his lips "Don't worry, we'll have time to talk more about it if you need to"

You pulled away from him and took his hand to lead him to the couch where you sat. You were running your fingers through his hair and when you said "I think this color looks good on you, it brings out the shine in your eyes," he thought his heart would melt.

"But as much as I like it I think it smells like chemicals, if you want we can go wash it later" he scoffed as he put an arm around you and pulled you towards him until your shoulders touched "Who do you think I am brat ?"

You didn't pick up on that and continued "I'm glad you came tonight but don't you dare pull a stunt like that on me again" you spit at him causing him to take a shacky breath "Don't worry about it... the only person you have to worry about screaming is gonna be yourself"

You shocked on your spit "Whaaa-" he turned completely towards you and pushed you until your back was flat against the couch, he was hovering over you "Dabi you're injuried" "See if I care" he leaned over and gave your neck open mouth kisses. You moaned, tilting your head to give him more room to continue his gentle torture.

But as you felt the heat rising in you he kissed your forehead before standing up "But first we'll go wash this hair whose chemical smell bothers you so much" and with that he got up smirking and left for the bathroom "Huh ? Seriously ?!?"

You stood there before your eyes widen "We ? Hold on !" you shouted as you got up and walked briskly to the bathroom undressing yourself in the process. When you looked up he was already naked "My eyes are up here Y/n"

Your lustful eyes shot to his and he held out his hand for you to take and you got into the bathroom. He let the water rinse the remaining black dye from his hair before speaking again "You better behave yourself if you don't want to fall" "Dabi-" "From now on I don't want you to be afraid to call me something other than Dabi if you feel like it. It could be interesting."

Your brain froze did he just ?!? No, you weren't going to try to say the name that had caused his anger last time. Will you ? But now the situation was different right ?

Yet you lost all resolve when he started working on you, and when he entered you, you lost track of what you were saying. For you, Dabi and Toya were one and you didn't have all the information, but you realized that the tension that emanated from him at the mention of that name was not the same at all.

That's amusing to note that when he entered your house he was the one who needed help but believe me now you were the one who was going to need help to walk out of the bathroom.

A/n : Again my requests are open 🥗🧀

Taglist : @foxxymunson, @cl0vr, @ilovemanypeople, @glossy1pearl, @jane57sstuff

157 notes · View notes

slytherinshua · 1 year

Text

FAIRY OF SHAMPOO

genre. fluff. based on fairy of shampoo! warnings. none. pairing. beomgyu x fem!reader. wc. 925. a/n. the way i haven't written in days and i suddenly pumped this out within 40 minutes has me dying.

“Beomgyu-ah, quit staring at the TV! You’ll damage your eyesight and then we’ll have to pay a fortune to get you glasses!!”

“Yes, mom!” Beomgyu shouted back, eyes still glued onto the screen of the old television that his grandpa had owned. This was one of the only TV’s that still played that commercial.

An instinctive smile spread on Beomgyu’s face as soon as he heard the opening notes of the advert jingle. The low-resolution screen played the short commercial, and Beomgyu watched intently at the fairy-like image of a girl. He mouthed her name as she appeared. He had named her himself. A name that suited her appearance. Y/n.

Her hair seemed to shine and looked softer and smoother than silk. Her eyes gleamed in a twinkle that could hold the whole galaxy. Shiny bubbles danced in the air in front of her face and she smiled, blowing one of them away. Beomgyu smiled with her.

He had memorised this advertisement by heart. He waited every night at 10 pm for when it would play, and in 2 years, he had never been late or missed a day. He still felt his heart flutter in his chest at the sight of the smile she adorned.

“Beomgyu-ah!” A harsh smack landed on Beomgyu’s shoulder and he looked up.

“Okay, okay! I’ll wash the dishes like you asked.” He took one more look at the screen and smiled before jogging off to the small kitchen and the pile of dishes that awaited. As he scrubbed, he hummed the soft saxophone melody of the ad and smiled to himself.

“That boy…” Mr. Choi mumbled to Mrs. Choi.

She grunted in acknowledgement, “He spends every night staring at that old thing and never pays any attention to anything else.”

Mr. Choi let out a long sigh, “If the only girl that gets his attention is one in that shampoo advert, his good looks will be completely wasted.”

Mrs. Choi nodded, “Those poor girls at school will never get a glance out of him.”

Beomgyu picked up on their conversation faintly. The topic was a regular in the household, and he was used to hearing his parents disapproval and concern. But, truth be told, Beomgyu didn’t care. So what if none of the girls at school got his attention? He liked the shampoo girl on the tv screen instead. None of the girls at school had silky hair or mesmerising eyes or a sweet soft voice or that charming smile.

Turning off the tap, Beomgyu sighed softly. Maybe falling in love with the girl on the screen was foolish of him. After all, how could he ever expect to find a fairy in real life?

“Don’t forget to eat your lunch! You worry me every time you come home with it untouched!” Beomgyu’s mom shouted as he ran out the door, still putting on his shoes halfway down the street. “And one of these days find a pretty girl and introduce us to her!!”

“Sure mom!” Beomgyu called back with a grin.

Math was always the subject that bored Beomgyu the most, so he spent most of his time gazing out the open window in the classroom up at the sky. The soft blues looked just like the background in the commercial, and it wasn’t hard to imagine Y/n living up in the clouds.

“Is it nice up there, Y/n?” Beomgyu thought.

“Who’s Y/n?”

Beomgyu snapped out of his trance, eyes focusing on Soobin who sat in front of him. “What?” He must have thought out loud.

“Who’s Y/n?” Soobin repeated, smile growing more mischievous by the second. “Is she your girlfriend? Crush? Lover?”

“What!? No!” Beomgyu glared at him, shutting the thought down.

“Is she pretty?” Soobin continued.

Beomgyu’s brain went back to the image of the girl and he nodded slightly. Soobin’s teasing went on for the whole day, and soon Yeonjun was teasing him about it as well.

Beomgyu walked out of the school building and towards a small cafe that he liked. He bought a drink and walked to the park by the school, lying down on one of the benches and almost drifting off to sleep with the warm breeze.

“Excuse me, do you happen to know where a convenience store is?” Beomgyu opened one of his eyes slightly, blinking a few times before he could see properly again. He sat up slightly and then froze, jaw dropping and cheeks burning.

“Are you okay?” You asked, peering at the boy on the bench with concern.

“Yeah,” Beomgyu stuttered, “I’m… I’m okay.” He rubbed his eyes and stared at you again. Then he smacked his forehead.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah!” Beomgyu assured you, “How did I manage to hallucinate Y/n in the park-” He whispered to himself.

“Do you know me?”

“Huh?” He looked back at your face, heart almost melting on the spot. It was different seeing the face of a fairy in 3D instead of on the crappy tv monitor.

“You said Y/n, right?”

Beomgyu nodded, and then his brows furrowed in further confusion, “How did you get out of the tv?”

“Tv?”

“Nevermind,” Beomgyu smiled cheekily. He had a pretty smile. “I’m Beomgyu, by the way.”

“I’m Y/n.”

Beomgyu let out a soft breath halfway between a laugh and a disbelieving sigh, “You said you were looking for a convenience store, right?”

You nodded, “Yes. Are there any nearby? I usually don’t come by this neighbourhood.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Shampoo.”

↳ txt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-bluehair,, @syrxiee2,, @90steele,, @ddeonudepressions

171 notes · View notes

notmichealangelo · 1 year

Text

A Brother’s Heartache

AKA I saw this new clip of Mario fucking up a bunch of bricks, blacked out, and woke back up with an entire one shot written. I just really loved the emotion here and wanted to share my take on it before the movie is released!

Mario’s knuckles ached. His legs ached, his arms ached, his head ached, and now that he was alone, he noticed a new pressure beginning to build in his eyes. He had been at this godforsaken training course all night, and all he had to show for it were bruised hands, an even more bruised ego, and the fact that the edges of the world had begun to fade into purple with the coming of dawn.

He now sat on the balcony Princess Peach had used to observe his training earlier, except the princess in question had left to give the plumber some space. She was a kind woman with the best intentions, Mario could tell that much even after having just met her, but she wasn’t yet the best at... emotional pep-talks. She had soon noticed Mario’s growing frustration with her attempts at cheering him on and decided that leaving him to collect himself might be a safer option than anything she might try to say. Mario appreciated that. He made a mental note to apologize for snapping at her earlier after he fell from the disappearing platforms for the twenty-fifth time. Mario sighed and removed his hat, watching as the twinkling stars disappeared one by one, and the sky began to lighten ever so slightly. He had made so little progress, and they had so little time. Never mind the rising threat of Bowser taking over the other kingdoms, that freak had his little brother. Mario’s grip on his hat tightened, and he lowered his head to view the capital ‘M’ that rested on the front of it, only to realize it looked more like a blurry mass of red and white. Mario wiped at his eyes to clear his vision but found that more moisture came to replace anything he would wipe off.

Would he really be able to save his brother?

“Uh... Hey, is this a bad time, or-”

Mario jumped and screamed, turning to face the sudden voice, fists blindly raised in front of him. He froze when his eyes landed on Toad, who held two glasses of water and an embarrassed look on his face. Mario relaxed.

“You scared the hell outta me, man,” said Mario after catching his breath. He sat back down on the white tile and wiped any further evidence of tears off his face. “We gotta get you a bell or something.”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Said the little mushroom creature, “I jus’ didn’t wanna leave you out here by yourself for too long. Y’coulda gotten... lost or something.” Toad sat down beside Mario, offering him one of the glasses of water. Mario gladly took it, not realizing how thirsty he was.

They sat in silence for a little while, watching the sky lighten. Toad was the first to speak up after a few minutes.

“So... what’s your brother like?”

“Huh?” Replied Mario, snapping out of his trance and turning his head to look at his little friend. Toad repeated himself.

“What’s your brother like? You haven’t talked about him much since we first met. Tell me about him. What’s his name again? Louis?”

Mario stared into his glass of water, chuckling.

“His name is Luigi,” Mario began, “And, well... We’ve kinda done everything together since we were born. He’s younger than me, but the little jerk managed to be taller, and he’s never gonna let me live it down. He’s kinda shy, I usually have to encourage him to try new things, but funnily enough, he’s a lot more creative than me. We recently started a new plumbing business, and the commercial was his idea...”

Mario described his and Luigi’s adventures in Brooklyn, from elementary school and before to the present and their plans beyond that. The red clad plumber was halfway through telling Toad about how Luigi had tackled a kid in middle school for ripping up Mario’s favorite baseball cards when he realized he was getting choked up again. Mario frantically cleared his throat and began wiping his face, and Toad patted his arm.

“You really miss him, don’t you?” asked Toad softly. Mario could only nod. “Yeah, I would too. I’m sure this is real tough for you, not having him here.” Mario nodded again, sniffling.

“Hey,” Toad said suddenly, “What d’you think he’d say to you right now?”

“... What?” asked Mario, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“You heard me, what would Louis- Er, Luigi say to you right now? Right at this very second?” Toad was looking at him intently now. Mario began to think.

“Probably something gushy like... It’s okay to be scared, and- and it’s okay to take breaks and ask for help. Then he’d give me a hug, then he’d hug me for too long and I’d have to force him to get off me, heh...”

Mario could name at least five scenarios that played out exactly like that. They usually ended with someone’s elbow in someone else’s gut, but a room filled with laughter and lifted spirits, nonetheless. He smiled at the memories, but the smile quickly fell away.

“God, Toad, he must be terrified,” said Mario as he ran a hand through his hair. “Who knows what they’re- what they’re doing to him, what if-”

Toad shoved a tiny hand in Mario’s face, wagging a finger.

“Nuh-uh, no more thinking like that,” Said Toad, who was now standing, his other hand on his hip, “You’re allowed to worry, but your brother needs you to be strong for him. That’s why her highness was pushing you so hard, even if she... probably didn’t go about it the right way.

Listen, you might not be the best fighter in the six kingdoms yet, but Luigi needs you. He needs you to fight for him. And from what you told me, I know he’s got faith in you. Now you just need faith in yourself. You’re not alone in this either, Mario. We’re gonna kick that Koopa’s butt and we’re gonna rescue your brother together, okay?”

Who knew little mushroom people could be so thoughtful?

Mario gave Toad a watery smile.

“Thanks, man,” said the human quietly. Toad nodded and smiled.

“Now get back out there! Show those inanimate objects who’s boss!” Toad shouted, pushing Mario towards the training course. Mario took a breath and put his hat back on.

The sun was finally beginning to rise, painting the world in purples and oranges. Luigi preferred sunrises over sunsets, and Mario always made fun of his brother for growing so tired so early in the evening, with Luigi always replying with how much he enjoyed watching the sun rise. Mario wondered if his little brother could see the sunrise now, from wherever he was being kept. Mario clenched his fists.

Hold on little bro, thought Mario, I’ll be there soon. The plumber charged forward, his fists raised and a new fire in his eyes.

---

When Peach returned to the balcony, the sun had risen much further into the sky, the last colors of dawn slipping away. She had come with snacks and a change of clothes for Mario as a peace offering, but her eyes widened at the sight before her. Toad stood dangerously on top of the railing to the balcony, whooping and cheering as Mario smashed through another solid brick wall. He jumped off fake bullet bills, dodged automated piranha plants, and let out a determined shout as he smashed through the wooden standup of Bowser.

“Toad, what did you feed him?” asked Peach in bewilderment, watching Mario in awe.

“Love and support!” Replied the little toadstool haughtily, placing his hands on his hips. “Turns out I’m just as talented at pep talks as I am at adventuring!”

Peach laughed incredulously and patted Toad on the head. Mario had reached the flagpole at the top of the course and was now jumping and whooping in excitement. Peach clapped enthusiastically. Maybe they really did have a shot at this.

#If you had told me a few months ago that I would be writing Mario fan fiction...#I'm not sure I would've believed you #But honestly? I might make more #The characterization was a little hard since the movie isn't out yet bu #I did my best and I hope you guys enjoy it!!!!#Have a wonderful day #Mario movie #super Mario bros #Luigi #Mario

224 notes · View notes

kemetic-dreams · 3 months

Text

The new school of hip hop was the second wave of hip hop music, originating in 1983–84 with the early records of Run-D.M.C. and LL Cool J. As with the hip hop preceding it (which subsequently became known as old-school hip hop), the new school came predominantly from New York City. The new school was initially characterized in form by drum machine-led minimalism, with influences from rock music, a hip hop "metal music for the 80s–a hard-edge ugly/beauty trance as desperate and stimulating as New York itself." It was notable for taunts and boasts about rapping, and socio-political commentary, both delivered in an aggressive, self-assertive style. In image as in song its artists projected a tough, cool, street b-boy attitude.

These elements contrasted sharply with much of the previous funk- and disco-influenced hip hop groups, whose music was often characterized by novelty hits, live bands, synthesizers, and "party rhymes" (not all artists prior to 1983–84 had these styles). New-school artists made shorter songs that could more easily gain radio play, and they produced more cohesive LP albums than their old-school counterparts. By 1986, their releases began to establish the hip-hop album as a fixture of mainstream music. Hip hop music became commercially successful, as exemplified by the Beastie Boys' 1986 album Licensed to Ill, which was the first rap album to hit No. 1 on the Billboard charts.

26 notes · View notes

robsheridan · 1 year

Text

Getting psyched for the Big Game with my favorite sports movie, 1981’s CANNIBAL QUARTERBACK. A schlocky low-budget grindhouse splatterfest, the film is impossible to track down but cherished by aficionados of tasteless cinema. Although it contains no sex scenes, it received an X rating for “senseless, prolonged nudity and graphic violence” thanks largely to its notorious “cheerleader blood orgy” scene, which at 27 grueling minutes accounts for nearly a third of the entire film.

In CANNIBAL QUARTERBACK, radioactive waste from a secretive government facility leaks into the farm of cattle destined for leather, and a football made from the mutated cows finds its way to the local college football team. At first the mysterious football seems to give the players power and stamina on the field. But what follows is anger, violent rage, and an intense hunger for raw bloody meat. When gobbling beef before each game is no longer enough, the gruesome killings begin; students begin disappearing, and mangled bodies turn up around the stadium, the flesh chewed off them.

Consuming human flesh begins to change the players, mutating them one by one into savage creatures who yearn only for blood. Their coach, greedy for the wins his newly supercharged players are bringing, tries to conceal the dark secret of the team and even helps lure unsuspecting students into the locker room to become pre-game snacks. The big game against their rival team proceeds as planned despite the growing body count, and all hell breaks loose on the field. The rage and bloodlust of the now monstrous players can no longer be contained, nor can the sickness afflicting them, which spreads rapidly to the other team — and the cheerleaders.

A fight between the rival cheer squads quickly descends into a cannibalistic orgy of gore. In a trance-like state, drunk on an abundance of nubile flesh, the possessed women tear each other apart and writhe in their blood and guts, consuming their bodies layer by layer until the locker room is a formless heap of meat and bone.

Meanwhile, the violence on the field has continued, the teams of deranged mutants engaged in a twisted "game," savagely competing to devour each other all through the night until only the strongest cannibal remains.

The film’s final scene sees the sun rising on a field of grotesque death, with only a few mindless cannibal monsters still alive, wandering around seeking new blood. But a bizarre post-credits scene returns to the radioactive farmlands of the opening shot, where humanoid mutant cows are seen emerging ominously from the glowing green ooze that created them. A planned sequel of mutant cow creatures seeking revenge on the humans for slaughtering their kind was supposedly filmed but never completed.

Auteur underground horror director Ron Sharletan, fresh off the success of 1977’s DRIVE-THRU OF DEATH, described CANNIBAL QUARTERBACK as “a commentary on the corruption of school sports and the toxic American obsession with zero-sum victory at all costs.” Upon receiving an X rating from the MPAA for the film’s “excessive graphic violence and nudity,” Sharletan refused to edit the film despite the rating meaning near-certain commercial failure for the film. “Art is not defined by censors,” Sharletan said in a statement, “and my vision will not be sacrificed on the altar of mass market puritanism.” Thus, the film had an almost non-existent theatrical release, and only found its niche audience years later on VHS.

Critical reviews were unkind, with many reviewers walking out of press screenings during the film’s notoriously graphic 27-minute “cheerleader blood orgy.” Gene Siskel wrote: “I’m envious of my colleagues who made the wise decision to abandon this cinematic atrocity, because having enduring the full length of the film, I can assure you dear reader that there is no merit to be found on the other side.”

Peter Travers called the film “regressive, exploitative trash” and Sports Illustrated’s review said “such excessive violence and sexism make a mockery of the beautiful game of football.”

Little is known about why the planned sequel fell apart before completion, but one crew member described it as “a drug-addled trainwreck” and “the worst filming experience of my life.” The never-seen footage from the sequel has become a “holy grail” for underground cinema aficionados.

Official CANNIBAL QUARTERBACK t-shirts now available at Glitch Goods!

------

NOTE: This film does not actually exist outside of my imagination. This alternate history horror story is part of my NightmAIres series exploring media and events that never existed, conceived by me and visualized with synthography. Some other entries in this series include Cyborg Slaves of Satan, The Macy's Thanksgiving Day "Blood Parade", World Without Christmas, Rankin/Bass' 1967 Krampus TV Special, Children of Irradiated Skies, Jodorowsky's Frasier, David Lynch's Perfect Strangers.

#rob sheridan #synthography #alternate history #nightmaires #ai horror #midjourney #ai art #football #superbowl #80s horror #grindhouse #exploitation film #cult cinema

171 notes · View notes

b00knerd1o1 · 10 months

Text

Wednesdays Introduction to Squishmallows

Summary:

Enid brings a colorful squishmallow into the dorm room and it goes about as well as you would expect.

The methodical clicking of her typewriter could lull anyone into a trance, Anyone but Wednesday Addams. She stays vigilant. She Runs through her novel ideas, types them up, and keeps tabs on her surroundings simultaneously. Little in her surroundings requires her attention. Enid had snuck out for the night. Thing was resting peacefully next to her, and little else in the isolated room would warrant her attention. Despite the tranquility around her, Wednesday keeps all her senses open. She might not have supper hearing, but she still catches onto the thrumb of footsteps rushing up the stairs. She continues her work- even when the door swings open with a bang- but devotes more of her attention to her surroundings than before.

The sound of Enid flopping onto her bed with an annoying crinkly bag floats through the room. She had been on a late-night shopping spree. What could warrant the bubbly girl to set out in the middle of the night for one eludes Wednesday. She feels that if she asks her roommate, she will be trapped listening to her drone on about mundane, inconsequential facts, so she stays silent. Thing, on the other hand, swings off her table and scurries over to Enid to see what treasure she has brought back.

“Hello, Thing!” Enid’s overly cheery voice rings out, accompanied by more shifting and plastic crinkling. Wednesdays cant see Thing to discern what he communicates, but Enid’s side of the conversation tells her all she needs to know. “It’s so cute, right? I’ve wanted to get one forever, but I never saw one I really liked until now! When I heard they were getting a shipment, I knew I had to get one. No matter what!”

Her attention is fully drawn to the conversation for a second, her fingers stall over the keys to her typewriter, and she cocks her head slightly to the side.

“Come join us Wednesday!” Enid’s voice rings out before she can correct her mistake. She reluctantly turns around but stops dead when she sees the enormous egg-shaped ball of pastel rainbow sitting on Enid’s bed.

“What is that?” She asks, horrified.

“A Squishmallow,” Enid replies as if it should be obvious.

“And what exactly is that?” Wednesday asks, not dating, to take a step any closer to the abomination.

“Their supper fluffy stuffed animals. Try hugging it!” Enid trusts the toy forward, and Wednesday quickly sidesteps.

“I don’t engage in hugging, and I would never touch something so horrendously and unnecessarily colorful.”

“The color is half Its appeal!” Enid says, bouncing up and down.

“And what’s the other half?” Wednesday deadpans.

“The squish! It’s as fluffy as a cloud!” Enid shouts as she spins around and squeezes it tight to her chest.

“It looks like you’re strangling it,” Wednesday observes out loud. Enid stops and looks down at the toy quizzically.

“I guess your right.” She says. A little of the joy falling from her face. “It’s still cute, tho.” Wednesday scoffs but decides not to say anything as Enid rearranges the rest of her stuffed unicorn collection to fit its new addition.

After a couple of weeks of the hideous unicorn sitting on Enid’s side of the room, Wednesday forgets about it. While it is one of the worst offenders regarding Enid’s affinity for all things colorful, it easily blends into the rest of her side of the room. Every couple of nights, Enid will pull the plush from its place and squeeze it tightly while listening to bland commercialized pop music. She continuously bugs Wednesday, asking her if she wants to feel how soft it is.

“You don't even have to hug it. Just squish it a little.”

“No.”

“Come on. It’s life-changing, I promise!”

“I’ve had enough life-changing events to deal with. I don't need to break out in a bunch of hives just to touch a stuffed animal.”

“Oh.” Enid practically deflates. “I forgot.” She fidgets uncomfortably for a second, and Wednesday turns away from her to return to her writing.

The next time Enid brings the Stuffie out, she doesn't pester Wednesday. The same happens the next time, the next time, and the next time. Soon enough, Wednesday becomes confident she will never have to deal with it again. That is until she walks into their room one day to find a plastic bag on her bed.

She grumbles and walks over to move it to Enid’s bed when she notices a note tucked into the side of the bag with her name on it. She picks it up and scans over its contents.

Howdy Roomy!

I bet you thought you could escape the Squishmallows.

NEVER!

I Spent forever searching but I found a fully black and white one for you for resale! It’s even spooky!

Give it a good squeeze for me!

-Enid!!!

Wednesday cautiously peals the plastic away to find a black and white cartoon skeleton peering up at her. She stares down at its eyes and picks it up to toss into the corner when her hand sinks through. She looks at the toy astonished, and squeezes it again. The fluff inside gives way easily under her pressure but springs back up immediately when she releases it. After a tense moment, Wednesday brings it up to her chest and squeezes.

The hug- if you could even call it that- lasts only a few seconds, but it’s the longest one she’s ever had control over. Other people were difficult to embrace- literally and physically- but the stuffed toy had no emotions or wants for her to deal with. It won't linger too long or pick her up awkwardly and swing her around like a child. If she were to hug it again, she would be in complete control. So she places it next to her pillow.

She begins walking towards her typewriter when she notices Thing from the corner of her eye, “Not a word of this to anyone.”

#wednsday addams #wednesday #wednesday series #enid #enid sinclair #wenclair #squishmallow #squishmallows #enid x wednesday #addams family #fanfiction #fanfic #wednesday fanfic #fluf #wednesday fluff #fanfic oneshot #autistic wednesday addams #wenclair fic

129 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 2 years

Note

Absolutely love that gif of him on ur bsf to lovers post. 😩

Anyways, afab reader wears a short skirt and a lace thong that barely covers her privates <3 she teases eddie during a dnd campaign and bends over etc until he can’t take it anymore and he pulls her onto of him and moves her hips up and down as he fucks into her 😖 soft dom eddie and hellaaa praise

I'm combining this with a request for an Eddie breeding kink...I hope that's okay!

(”Breeding kink, you finding out by him looking at baby commercials and being nice to Dustin and the other kids thinking about him having one of his own”) @hahahafucku

Warnings: this is literally all smut and I think there’s a plot in there somewhere (18+ minors begone), breeding kink, public teasing, semi-public sex I guess, language, brief mention of reader’s body size

WC: 2.6k

A/N: I usually don’t write fics this smutty so pleeeeeeease let me know what you think! Too much? Not enough? Just right?

"Hey, babe?" You're glancing at the shopping list as you make your way through the store. Eddie was just by your side; you're supposed to be helping him pick up snacks for his campaign tomorrow, but your boyfriend has wandered off yet again.

"Eds, where are you?" you call out softly, attracting the attention of some irritated customers.

"Over here," you hear from four aisles down. You huff and make your way to him.

"Babe, do you really need four different types of chips?" you ask, but he's drawn into the products on the shelves. You look at what he's staring at: rows of diapers and jars of baby food.

"Are you pregnant or something?" you joke, poking his side. He jumps as you break him from his trance. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah," he shuffles towards the cart and plops down the cans of soda he'd picked up. You're not convinced but place the thought on the back burner for now.

Why would Eddie be interested in baby products?

You wait until you're back in his beat-up van, bags of junk food loaded into the back.

"So, you wanna tell me what that was all about?" you ask, more curious than accusing.

"What?"

"Come on, Eddie. Why did I catch you looking at baby stuff? Not just glancing, but really looking?" You'd been together for awhile, and you knew he wanted kids one day, but there was no way that he wanted them now...was there?

"I dunno," he replies sheepishly, long curls falling over his face. "'S stupid."

The worst-case scenario flashes into your mind. "Oh my god, did you cheat on me and get her pregnant?"

Eddie laughs louder than he intends to; your accusation is just too ridiculous. "Absolutely not! You know I only have eyes for you, sweetheart." He gives you his best puppy dog look and kisses you hard.

"Then why won't you tell me what's going on?"

He sighs and throws back his head in defeat. "Fine, but just...don't judge me, okay?" You continue when you nod, palms moist with sweat. "Okay, so, I've been thinkin'," he starts, looking down at the car floor nervously. The engine is running though you're still parked, and he kills it. "Thinkin' about how goddamn gorgeous you would look if you were havin' my baby."

Huh. Well, that wasn't what you'd expected him to say. "You mean in, like, ten years?" But you know better.

Eddie shakes his head. "Nah, sweetheart. Right fuckin' now."

"Oh," you manage, "but you're still in high school," you point out, though you know exactly what his reply will be, and you're right.

"Only for another month. And babies take a lot longer than that to cook," he grins while he says it, and you realize that he's no longer looking at the car floor, but at your stomach. He's imagining you pregnant with his baby.

"Wow," you breathe out. "Can I-can I think about it?"

His eyebrows shoot up; clearly, he was not expecting you to even consider this proposal.

"Y-yeah, baby. Of course." He presses a kiss to your cheek, though you can tell by the bulge in his pants that he wants to do a lot more. He starts the van up again and heads for home, leaving you with a lot to think about.

You thought about the prospect of having Eddie's baby all night. In the shower, you ran your fingertips over the flatness of your stomach, thinking about a bump there. A bump that held Eddie Munson's child.

Yes, you were young, but you'd been together for two years, and you were also adults. Adults with jobs--you'd been working full-time at the bank since you'd graduated last year. And Eddie will be working full-time with Wayne at the plant soon. You'd already discussed moving in together; you promised your parents that you and Eddie would graduate before doing so, and that day would be here in just about four weeks. Maybe you could do this.

The easiest way to tell him would be to call him, but you had a better idea. You'd see the feral look in his eyes when he mentioned his desires--why not allow him to...give in to those carnal instincts?

The plan was perfect. You'd ditch work claiming a stomach flu (no one wants someone vomiting all over the workplace) and sneak back into Hawkins High. You'd been gone less than a year and still knew the layout like the back of your hand. Most importantly, you knew the abandoned janitor's closet on the second floor, the one conveniently near the drama/Hellfire room where you could sneak off and make a quick wardrobe change.

There’s no mirror in there, of course, so you just hope that your red lipstick isn’t smudged or on your teeth. You smooth down your black tank top, adjusting your breasts so that your cleavage is perfectly framed by the neckline. The icing on the cake is the tiny miniskirt that falls at the top of your thighs, exposing the long legs that stand in your heels.

School’s out, and Eddie’s told you that Hellfire is starting a bit late today so that the boys can watch Lucas Sinclair play in a basketball game. Eddie never got the hype of school-sanctioned sports, but it was important to his little sheep, so he’d compromised. Worked out for them, and it also happened to work out perfectly for you.

You knew Eddie would already be in the Hellfire room, meticulously setting up his campaign. You could picture him pacing anxiously around the table, ensuring everything looked just right. With a peek into the hall that showed the coast was clear, you scurried into the room where Eddie was chewing on his thumbnail, looking over his Dungeon.

“Hey there,” you say softly, and his head snaps up at the sound of your voice.

“Y/N, what are you--oh, holy shit.” His tone turns from confusion to pure lust as he eyes you, taking in you and your outfit hungrily. He runs his tongue over his lips involuntarily as he makes his way to you.

“Do you like it?” you feign shyness as he grabs your hips and pulls you as close as he can. You can feel him straining against his zipper already.

All he can mutter is “Oh my god,” as he buries his face in your neck, kissing it sloppily and sucking bruises into your skin.

“Figured we could try for that baby you mentioned, but I didn’t wanna wait for you to get home,” you shrug as he moves his hands under your short skirt, moaning audibly as he presses his palms against your bare ass, left mostly uncovered by a lace thong. When he hears what you’ve said--really registers it, which takes a moment--he pulls back.

“Are you serious?” He smiles, holding your face in his strong, calloused hands.

You press your own hands to his chest and whisper into his lips, punctuating your statement with a series of kisses. “Eddie, I want to have your baby. I want to get big...and round...and swollen...growing each month...with your baby.”

He shivers against you and hoists you up, slamming you against the wall; you wrap your legs around him as he pushes your skirt around your waist. He starts to rub a finger against your soaked panties, when you both hear it:

“Can’t believe the other team didn’t show!” Lucas. Oh, no.

“Buncha pussies, forfeiting like that,” Dustin’s voice rings out.

“At least Eddie will be glad we’re starting on time,” Mike chimes in.

“Fuck,” you hiss, “hand me my bag. I can run into the corner and throw on my pants.”

Eddie lets you down but grips your wrist. “Not so fast,” he growls. “I just got you how I want you, and I’m not letting you go.”

“B-but the boys--”

“We’re not fucking in front of them,” he dismisses your concern, “but you’re gonna sit on my lap, dressed like my perfect little slut.” He grabs you by the hem of your skirt and you yelp. “You think I’m gonna let my fantasy slip through my fingers?”

You nod, feeling a heat rising in your lower body.

“So now, you’ll be a good girl for me. You’re gonna sit on my lap, be my...helper...during the campaign, and then I’m gonna fuck a baby into you once we’re done. Got it?” He tilts your chin up so you’re looking directly into his eyes.

“Yes, sir.” Eddie takes his seat on his throne and you do as he’s instructed, feeling his erection underneath you as he slides a ringed hand up your thigh.

“Welcome, boys!” Eddie’s voice booms. You feel a blush creep up your neck toward your cheeks. “Got my little helper here today.” He takes the hand farthest from the boys and squeezes your ass and you gasp softly.

Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be, Munson? you think. Game on.

You spend the rest of the Hellfire meeting doing whatever you can to torture Eddie. You’re constantly “repositioning” yourself, grinding on him and feeling him grow harder with each subtle movement.

“Knock it off, princess,” he whispers, but you’re in the mood to be a brat. You pretend to get a little sleepy and stretch, showing off your breasts in Eddie’s face. You watch his eyes flick to your chest before returning to the game.

While he’s reading the next part of the campaign aloud, you place your palm on his jeans, right over his cock, making him take a sharp breath in.

But your grand finale is when Gareth rolls the D20 and it lands right in front of Eddie’s notes. When it’s Mike’s turn to roll next, you stop him.

“I can get it, Wheeler,” you say, leaning over and giving Eddie a clear up-skirt view. You know he can even see your clothed pussy from the angle you’re giving him.

Eddie hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you back down, glaring at you.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him innocently. “Am I not helping?”

“Okay, that’s it,” he mutters before turning to the rest of his group. “All right, we’re wrapping up for the night.” His announcement is met with a chorus of grumbles. “Hey, hey, hey, I don’t wanna hear it! We will continue this next week.”

The boys file out of the room, mumbling about Eddie’s bizarre behavior. Once they leave, Eddie grabs you, positioning you so you’re straddling him in his throne.

“What the fuck was that?” he pulls your hair to bring your face closer to his. “You tryin’ to make me blow my load in my pants? Sounds to me like you don’t really want me breeding you.”

“N-no, I do. I do,” you whimper. “Want your baby, Eddie. Please.”

“I don’t think I believe you. I need to be convinced,” he sneers.

“Please, Eddie. I need you to breed me. Need you to fill me up with your cum and get me pregnant,” you beg. You allow yourself a small sigh of relief as he eases his grip on your hair, but it’s short-lived, because he tears off your thong with a rip and slides his pointer and middle fingers along your wet folds.

“You’re soaked, princess,” he groans. “I love how wet you get for me. Ruined your panties and now you’re gonna ruin my jeans.” He presses one finger to your aching clit, making small, slow circles, and laughs menacingly as you cry out.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, mocking your earlier question. “Can’t handle being teased?” When you don’t respond, he moves his finger faster, rubbing your clit harder. “How’s this?”

“S-so good,” you manage, grinding back and forth on his finger. You want--no you need--him inside you, but you don’t dare tell him that for fear he’ll deny you that pleasure. “You know exactly where to touch me.”

Eddie beams as he receives the praise, moving his finger from your swollen nub to your pussy. He slides it in and curls it, pumping it in and out, your beautiful moans ringing in his ears. He adds a second finger and lets out a moan of his own as you clench around him.

“Sorry, baby,” he apologizes preemptively. You’re confused until he removes his fingers and cleans them with his tongue, leaving you hurting for him. He unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper, palming his cock through his boxers.

“Eddie,” you whine, “I could’ve done that for you.” Touch-starved and desperate for affection, you lift your own shirt over your head. A sheer lace bra leaves little to the imagination.

Eddie sucks on the exposed part of your breasts, leaving hickeys all over them. One hand still on his erection, he uses the other to unhook your bra. As soon as it clatters to the ground, he’s groping your tits, biting your nipples as pleasure and pain intertwine and you scream loudly.

Not wanting to take his hands off of your breasts, he shuts you up with a kiss. “Can’t...fuckin’...wait...any longer,” he pants, and you take his rock hard length into your hand. You start to move to get on your knees, but he stops you.

“Need to be inside this tight little pussy,” he orders, rubbing his cock along your wetness until he’s covered in your slick, and he presses himself into you. “You were made for me, you fuckin’ know that?”

“I’m all yours,” you agree easily, matching his rhythm as you ride him. “My body belongs to you, Eddie. You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Fuck, baby,” Eddie’s groaning. He grabs onto your hips and moves you exactly how he needs you. “Your body, your mouth, your everything is fuckin’ perfect.” His thrusts get faster and your orgasm builds inside you as you feel him get deeper, hitting that spot over and over again.

“Eddie, I’m gonna cum,” you plead, asking for permission rather than telling him. “Please let me cum all over you while you fill me up.”

“I’m cumming, too.” He grips your sides even harder, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, and you suspect there will be bruises there tomorrow. He slams you up and down over his cock and you finish with tears streaming down your face. You feel him shoot thick, hot ropes into you. With the little strength he has left, he places you onto the table, still inside of you.

“Lay back,” he orders. “Don’t want any of this coming out. You gonna get knocked up today, aren’t you, princess?”

“Y-yes, Eddie,” you whisper. You watch as he pulls out of you. He frowns when he sees cum running down your leg. With a quick swipe of his hand, he pushes it back into you.

“You took all of me, didn’t you? Such a good girl,” he remarks. You’re too fucked out to muster up a response, and he notices. “Poor baby. I really fucked you good, didn’t I?”

“Mhm.”

Eddie puts himself away and sits back in his throne, admiring his work. “Love seeing you like this.”

“It’s all you, Eds,” you finally say. “All because of you, and all for you.”

“My beautiful little vixen,” he throws his head back with a low growl. “Tell you what. You stay just like that, make sure it takes. Then we’ll go back to my place and relax, okay?”

“And go for round two?” you ask mischievously. “Make sure I get pregnant tonight?”

Eddie laughs. “I wish, but Wayne will be home.”

You beckon him to the table and pull him in for a long, deep kiss. “Guess you’ll just have to keep me quiet, then.”

Taglist: @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @benztripp @ali-r3n @munsonology

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson fanfic

314 notes · View notes

munsonownsmyass · 1 year

Text

Billy Russo x reader

Summary: Inheriting your grandmother's house, you quickly realize you need some help fixing it up. So you call a local contractor, Billy Russo.

Warnings: pining. Sooo much pining. Fluff, mentions of Billy's not so happy past, kissing, fingering, unprotected sex.

Author's note: I made for my dear @e-dubbc11 after this little thot exchange. Ericca, I know my original plan was to make it for your birthday, so I'm sorry I'm late. But here it is. I hope you love it ❤️

Oh, and I was a little self-indulgent with the best friend... ops 🤣🙈

Looking up at the old house where you’ve spent every summer as a kid, you smile to yourself. The years had been hard on the woodwork and ever since your grandmother moved to the nursery home, everything had been left untouched. Bushes growing wild, the grass so tall you could easily hide in it. But still, it felt like it always had. It felt like home and now it was yours.

The front door binds a little as you try to push it open, the smell of stale air instantly hitting you like a brick wall. Yeah, you should probably open the windows, get some fresh air in. Walking around, you notice how every surface is covered in dust, cobwebs hanging in almost every corner. This was gonna take a lot of work and you couldn’t wait to get started.

The first few days are spent cleaning. You’ve noticed a lot of damages to the house you can’t fix yourself, so you had already contacted a contractor in town, and you needed the place to look less abandoned before he would get here. The whole town may know all about your granny being away for years, but still… You couldn’t bring yourself to let strangers into a house that looked like a mess.

Monday morning, as you sit with your morning coffee on the porch, two cars pull up in front of the house. Russo Home Repairs, supposedly the best in town. He sounded nice on the phone, which was a plus, but honestly you were just happy for the help.

Walking towards the cars, you almost trip over your feet when the driver gets out. You had expected an older man, not this. A tall and very handsome dark-haired man with a smile that could make a Colgate commercial jealous. As he comes closer, you see his dark eyes match the hair.

“You must be y/n? I’m Billy Russo.” He says, politely extending his hand for you to take. You take it, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered you already are. He probably already knows the effect he has on women, but you’re quite embarrassed at how easily he makes your heart flutter.

Behind him, two men exits the second car. Like Mr. Russo, they are so handsome you almost think your life have changed into a Danielle Steel novel. When they introduce themselves as Quinn McKenna and Matt Murdock, you make a mental note to call your friend as soon as you get back inside. She needs to hear about this.

You manage to pull yourself together long enough to show the men around the property, discussing what needs to be done. Luckily, they are well-versed in both the interior and exterior, so they’re willing to help with the house as well as the grounds. Maybe two or three months of work. Already finding it hard to focus now, you don’t even know how you’ll manage a few months. This was gonna be hard.

The buzzing of your phone pulls you out of your trance. And thank God for that, because you realize you’ve been staring at Mr. Russo for a good 10 minutes. But how can you not, when he makes tearing down a ceiling look so good? Tapping the green icon, you exhale sharply, not even trying to hide your frustration.

“It’s that bad?”

“It is. Instead of doing something useful, I’ve been staring at him for 10 minutes.” You whisper, pushing away from your little chair in the corner, walking into the next room. On the other end Lily just laughs.

“He can’t be that hot.”

“He is. They all are.” You sigh, sitting down in a corner, strategically placed so you can still watch the three gorgeous men making quick work of demolishing the living room. It should be illegal having this sinful sight before you. Tool belts hung low on their hips, making their pants slide down slightly. Their t-shirts sliding up as they raise their arms, revealing a bit of skin. Really, really good-looking skin. Looking with no shame, you follow the little happy trail down to where it disappears under the waistband. Almost whining, you turn away from them. “I need to find another contractor.”

“And not even give me a chance to see their hotness for myself? No way.” She states, the sound of fingers tapping away on her keyboard. “When you asked me to help you with the house, all I had to look forward to was mildew. So you’re not firing the hunks before I get a chance to see them.”

And as promised, you didn’t. Lily arrives a few days later and not even a minute after exiting her car, she stares at the house, mouth open wide as she slowly removes her sunglasses. You already know what caught her eye, as you glance at the porch where the men are taking a break.

“Holy shit.” Lily gasps, staring at them like you’ve done the last few weeks. “They are freaking hot!”

“Told you.” You smirk, as you gesture for her to follow you up to the house. Leaning in closer, Lily whispers under her breath. “How you’ve manged not to get water damage in your basement is beyond me, cause mine’s already flooded.” Lily moan desperately.

Unable to hold back, you burst out laughing, attracting the attention of the men. Billy’s dark eyes find yours and instantly you feel warm. Damn, a man should not hold this much power over you.

The next few days are spend trying to work. The keyword was trying. You and Lily often found yourself staring at the men instead of doing any actual work. Lily kept whispering lewd comments in your ear, causing you both to giggle like schoolgirls. The men often looked at you with knowing smiles on their faces. There was no way they didn’t know, but no one said anything.

Shared lunch became a steady ritual, most days spent together in the shadow under the big tree. Lily and Matt often sat beside each other, him with a giant smile and Lily blushing a bright pink. They were quite sweet, dancing around each other. It was only a matter of time, you thought, before you’d stumble in on them going at it in the guestroom.

You, on the other hand, only had eyes for Billy. You had tried to write if of as a simple crush, but by each passing day you felt yourself growing fonder of him. He had told you about his past, growing up in a group home and later joining the marines. But it was a hard life, so he had retired, moved to this quiet little town in Connecticut and started his company with his friends. He had been through so much, but still had a positive outlook on life. It only made you like him more.

You all fall into this casual rhythm. They’re no longer just men working here. They always seem to linger, never really eager to go home. They are all single, an information you got thanks to Lily, so some days they stayed for dinner since they didn’t have any places to go after work.

As you sit in the backyard, eating another slice of pizza that’s already turned cold, you look at Billy. The last rays of sunshine falls on his face, accentuating his beautiful features. He really is very beautiful. He doesn’t notice you looking at him, at least you don’t hope so, his eyes fixed on Quinn and Matt as they gang up on Lily, throwing her in the pool. When he laughs, he scrunches his nose ever so slightly.

You allow your eyes to wander down. There’s no harm in looking, right? His upper body is bare after his dip in the pool, small beads of water still clinging to his soft skin. You can’t help but notice the scars on his body, wondering how he got them.

“Finding anything interesting?”

You look up to find him looking at you with a soft smile. To your horror, you realize you’ve been leaning in closer, so you pull away. With a light chuckle, he turns to you, his beautiful dark eyes even darker in fading sunlight. “It’s alright. You can ask.”

“How did you get that big one?” you ask, gently tracing your finger over the scars on his right shoulder. A soft sigh from Billy makes you realize what you’re doing, so you remove your fingers quickly.

“It’s not a very pretty story.” He looks down at the scar, tracing it with his thumb. There’s a sadness in his eyes, that makes you wanna reach out, to hug him, but you’re afraid you’ll overstep.

“Yeah, I can imagine war stories aren’t pretty.” You try, leaning in a little closer. He looks at you for a moment before he clears his throat.

“I was 10. At the group home, there was this…” he pauses, huffing out a cold laugh. “Good Samaritan. A guy who was supposed to take care of us. He took a liking to me, and he tried to…”

The expression on Billy’s face tells it all. You reach out and place your hand on his. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with the ghosts of his past. Ha takes your hand in his, his thumb drawing soothing circles on the back of your had. You wonder if it’s more for his benefit than your own. You don’t say a word, silently waiting for Billy to continue.

“I managed to defend myself, but he broke my arm. Tore the rotator cuff in three places.”

“I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“It’s okay. My life didn’t turn out that bad. I mean, I ended up here.” He says with a playful smile that makes your heart flutter. “But it did destroy my chances of becoming a professional baseball player.”

“Oh, was that your big dream?”

“Absolutely. I could have been the next Joe DiMaggio.” He says confidently, puffing out his chest slightly. He looks adorable and you can’t help but giggle.

“I have no idea who that is.” You shrug apologetically, biting your bottom lip. Billy feigns being hurt, causing you to chuckle. He then excitedly tells you all about DiMaggio and as the sun sets in the horizon, minutes turn into hours as you slowly fall deeper in love with Billy.

It was one of the hottest summers in years, which turned out to be a blessing. Sure, you were warm, but so were the guys, which meant several days with them shirtless. Today was one of those days. During your break from painting the kitchen, you and Lily found yourself doing your new favourite thing: watching the men work. Their muscles playing under their sun kissed skin, the beads of sweat dripping down their toned chests.

Lily sighs beside you, her eyes fixed on Matt as he sands down a piece of wood. Occasionally he wipes off the sawdust, his hands sliding over his perfect abs.

“Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to be that piece of wood.” She whines as she stuffs another piece of candy into her mouth. You just grin, nudging her shoulder.

“Why don’t you just go talk to him?”

“Huh, says the woman who’s practically drooling over the boss boy and haven’t made a move either.” Lily shoots back. You look over at Billy, just as he takes off his shirt, wiping away the sweat from his forehead. His chest is glistening in the midday sun, muscles flexed as he carries another piece of wood over to Matt and Quinn.

You don’t even hear Lily talking to you, lost in the sight before you. As Billy reaches for a pencil, the movement makes you look at his hips and how those pants hang dangerously low, showing of his v-line. What you wouldn’t give to run your tongue over-

“Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna go distract Quinn and Matt, while you talk to Billy.”

“What? What would I even talk to him about?”

“I don’t know, but you better think quickly.” Lily blurts out, before smiling wide. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Mr. Russo can help you.” she says with a raised voice, making Billy look up at the mentioning of his name. As you silently plan Lily’s murder, she just walks towards Matt with a giggle.

“What can I do for you, miss y/l/n?” Billy asks with a smile, as he walks closer, wiping his hands in the little cloth hanging from his toolbelt. Barely managing to tear your eyes away from his midsection, you look into his dark eyes, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

“Uhm, was thinking that we could… uhm… fix the gazebo as well? Now that you’re here anyways.” You mumble, afraid you’re barely making sense. Relax, woman. He’s just a man. A very sexy, sweet man with a voice like velvet and eyes you could drown in.

Billy smiles softly, pointing towards where Lily is standing with Matt. “We already talked about this. Matt will fix it.”

You’re embarrassed and quite sure you’re as red as a tomato, judging by the grin on Billy’s face. Mumbling an apology, you avert his gaze, mortified. Never one to be a good liar, Lily should never have left you unsupervised.

To your surprise, Billy closes the distance between the two of you, his index finger hooking under your chin, carefully lifting your gaze to his. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

As you take in his words, you forget how to breathe, focused on how close he is too you. You can feel the heat radiating of his body, drawing you in. How easy it would be to just lean in, just a few inches.

The sound of Billy’s phone pulls you back to reality. You pull away as he reaches for the phone. Flustered, you turn towards the house, tripping over your feet in your eagerness to get into the house, into safety. At this point you don’t think it’s even possible to get redder, still you feel the heat in your cheeks, when you hear Billy chuckling softly behind you. Shit, he saw. Dammit.

Once inside, you make your way into the kitchen. “Fucking stupid. Finally getting a chance and I embarrass myself.” Burying your face in your hands, you groan in defeat. “I can never look him in the eyes again.”

“I hope you will, cause I’d hate if I never got to see those beautiful eyes of yours again.”

Turning around, you find Billy leaning against the doorframe, smiling softly, his dark eyes fixed on you. He pushes of the frame, slowly making his way over to you. Stopping a few inches from you, he puts his hands on the counter on either side of you on the counter, caging you in.

“Ever since that first day, I’ve been waiting for a chance to get you alone.” He purrs, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Maybe I should have done something sooner.”

He leans in, eyes searching yours for permission. When your lips finally meet, it takes your breath away. For a moment, all that exists is his lips against yours. His soft, perfect lips. Your entire body is on fire, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Breaking away for air, your breathing is already strained, never felt like this before.

He leans in to kiss you again, the feeling of his lips like gasoline to the fire. Unable to hold back, your hand moves up his muscular body, ending entangled in his hair. Pulling him closer, your claim his lips in another greedy kiss. Moving his hands down, he hoists you up by your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter.

Billy’s strong hands move up your thighs, pushing your dress out of the way. Leaning in, he kisses down the column of your neck, pulling sweet whimpers from you. Greedy hands roam over your body, pulling your dress down. Kissing his way down to your breast, he takes your nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck.” You moan out, throwing your head back in ecstasy. You can feel Billy smirking against your skin, sucking your nipple harder. His free hand finds your core, already soaking wet for him. Pushing one finger into your wet heat, you whimper out his name, begging for more.

“Billy, please, just… Please…” you plea desperately. Billy claims your lips in a greedy kiss, pushing another finger into you. It takes no time for you to come around his skilled fingers, burying your head in the crook of his neck to stifle your moan.

“Shh, don’t want the others to hear us.” He whispers with a grin, pulling his fingers from your cunt only to lick your slick off his long digits.

Trembling with anticipation, your fingers make quick work of his belt and zipper, pulling his pants down just enough to free his aching cock. Captivated, you watch as he fists himself, pumping his cock a few times. The muscles of his abdomen tighten with each pass of his fist, making you clench around nothing.

He lines himself up, the head of his cock grazes your slick lips, sending small bolts of pleasure through your body. Billy leans forward, his breath ghosting against your earlobe, “I've been dreaming about this.”

He kisses your neck softly, pulling soft whimpers from you. Pushing forward, his cock parts your lips with ease. He buries himself in one thrust, deep enough to make you shiver. You look into his beautiful lustblown eyes, dark like obsidian. You kiss him with unknown hunger, weeks of want poured into it. And then he starts moving, slow deep thrusts. Billy whimpers, his breath hitched, overwhelmed by the feeling of you.

Thrusting into you at a steady pace, he makes you whimper, pulling the most sinful noises from you with each drag of his delicious cock. You’re lost in the feeling of him, lost in the pleasure. Barely able to think, you can barely form a sentence.

A few more drags of his cock is all it takes, before you clamp down on him, screaming out his name as you come undone. It’s not before Billy follows, emptying himself in you, filling you up with his cum. You fall against him, both of you panting heavily.

As you both come down from your high, Billy holds you close, not wanting to let go as he plants soft kisses on your lips and neck. You stay like that for a few minutes, just savouring each other.

"Fuck. Not you guys too"

You turn to find Quinn in the doorway, his expression priceless. Clearly frustrated, he walks to the fridge and finds a beer, twisting off the cap. You try your best to cover up, the situation so weird you can't do nothing but laugh.

"It's bad enough I had to look at the lovesick puppies out there, playing tonsil tennis. And now this?!" He points at the two of you, taking a sip of his beer. "What about me?"

You and Billy can't help but chuckle as he does his best to pull away without exposing you. When you're descent he helps you down from the counter. You walk over and pat Quinn lovingly on the cheek, giggling softly.

"Don't worry. I have a friend that would love you."

"I fucking hope so." Quinn says, as he walks out of the kitchen, sipping his beer. Billy turn to you, laughing as he cups your cheeks. Placing another soft kiss on your lips, he looks into your eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better." You say with a smile, already looking forward to the rest of the summer.

Thank you so much for reading. Feedback and reblogs are much appreciated ❤️

TFC: @mindidjarin @phoebe-danvers @saintmurd0ck @itwasthereaminuteago @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @mattmurdocksscars @pedrito-friskito @lunaserenade @a-bang-for-your-bucky

Tagging: @lucy-sky @writerwoed

#billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo au #the punisher fanfiction #ben barnes fanfiction

174 notes · View notes

awkwardgtace · 10 months

Text

A Change Of Pace

So Originally I wasn't gonna do Kaijune cause I'm super busy for like the rest of the month. But an amazing friend asked me and I was like hmmm is there anything short I could do and wellllll here we are!

(for the record i do have kaiju ash planned for gt july :D )

A Change Of Pace

Daily life had grown monotonous. Wake up, go to work, go home, go to sleep. Repeat. You almost hoped for a change. It wasn’t likely to happen, but at least you weren’t alone. You lived in an apartment with a wall of windows facing the docks. A close friend, Chris, had been with you for years. It was nice to rarely come home to an empty apartment.

Tonight was one of those rare nights. The lights were off as you walked in. That meant they weren’t home. You could have used their warm smile today. Work had been stressful and they were always comforting.

Without their presence you walked through the dark room slowly. You grabbed the remote, turning on the TV so they would know you were there, then collapsed on the couch. Keeping your eyes closed you listened to the pointless commercials as you tried to relax. No matter how tired you were, it was always hard to sleep in the apartment when you knew you were alone.

“There was an accident at the docks today. So far no casualties were reported, but all the staff for the companies using it have been kept to clear up the mess.”

Well that told you where Chris was. A late night at work on the docks. It would probably mean you were alone all night. A siren blared from the place they must be. You curled up trying not to think about how late their night would go… or how silent the apartment would feel without them.

Rhythmic thumping sounded from the direction of the docks. A sound you could almost equate to footsteps. It had to be the fatigue hitting you. The thumping was too loud to be someone’s steps. Plus you lived on the top floor. You moved to lie on your side, curling into a tight ball. The sounds continued. A siren blaring, followed by a thump.

The noise only grew louder. Cars screeching from speeding turns. A crash and police sirens. Of course the night you were alone the noise would be the worst. The silence in your apartment was painful, even the muffled words of the news casters were no help. You bit back a groan as another screeching car drove by your old building.

Chris chose this place. They wanted you to be able to see them if they worked late. It wasn’t possible to do from here. It was too high and the nights too dark. The idea at least helped calm you on the nights you felt the worst without them. More thumps, faster than the siren took to blare again. It was closer to someone running. Probably some weird piece of equipment used at the docks.

The noise of the night continued. Cars speeding. Horns honking. Screeches from a rushed turn. Police sirens. The dock sirens. Thump, thump, thump, thump. The strangely rhythmic thumps were easing your tired body. The empty words of the news. A commercial for some product you would never need or want. Then a change that jolted you out of your trance. A new set of blaring alarms, one in your building the other from the TV.

“This is an emergency alert. Something has been spotted near the docks. It is hard to describe. Towering taller than most buildings. The steps have been felt throughout the city. A number of people have already begun to evacuate. Please, to avoid panic, remain in your homes. Do not turn on any lights and make sure to-”

The broadcast cut out. You opened your eyes to face the cloth back of your couch. The blaring alarms continued. The cars screeched. The thumps that were too close to footsteps sped up again. You couldn’t believe this was real. Any move you made to escape would be more likely to have you meet this thing. It had to be close if it cut the broadcast to your apartment.

A strange light entered your apartment. It terrified you. Despite your better judgment you rolled onto your feet. Nearby you could see a glowing eye near the window to your room, the place you would normally be. The pupil wasn’t visible to you yet. It was strange that in this whole time you hadn’t realized the thumping was growing closer. Although nothing in your place would give you a sign of that when you’re curled up in a ball on the couch.

The entire world shifted as that eye moved. The being’s light coated the room. A bright neon shade of green. You couldn’t bring yourself to move a muscle as the reptilian pupil dilated. It swept back and forth over your apartment. At this point your only hope was staying still would hide you. The pupil appeared to focus on you before sweeping the room again. A twitch towards you before it was gone. You released the breath you were holding, maybe you were safe.

The relief died as a clawed hand crashed through the glass. A scream left your throat as you started to run. There was glass everywhere, but the hand pulled back. You were shaking as the hand hovered outside your wall of windows. You watched the being shake their hand, the wind from it forcing you to back away. That reminded you that moving was an option.

You stumbled back, slowly gaining the strength to run. The hand stopped shaking and you turned on your heel. You could hear the crash as the hand moved again. You managed to start running, but it was too late. The clawed fingers surrounded you on each side. At least you hoped they were fingers. Fingers could mean it might understand words, it might not hurt you.

Despite that faint hope you kept running. The claws moved closer until the palm slammed into your back. You stumbled a few steps more. The clawed fingers curled around you, trapping you in a cage. They grew closer and closer until you were pressed against the palm of this creature. You struggled against the overwhelming strength.

The hand you were in started to move. You screamed, desperate to get free. The being ignored them if they heard any. If it acted like this cause it saw you, what did it do to Chris? They were working at the dock… They should still be there.

You were pulled out of your apartment. In the cold night air your struggles stopped. You knew how high your building was, you weren’t hoping to die. The light from the being’s eyes washed over you. It blinded you, making it impossible to see their face before they pressed you to their chest. The beat beneath was panicked, at least if the being was human. You almost felt bad for them.

That bit of pity disappeared almost immediately. The massive being started to walk away, taking you from your monotonous life. As much as you’d begun to hate it, you didn’t want to be taken from the only person that cared about you. The only person you cared about. Tears fell from your eyes as the entire world blew past you.

From the spot they held you, it was easy enough to see the destruction the creature caused. Footsteps of craters that made roads unusable. Crushed cars, cracked rooftops, but not a single building that had significant damage. In fact your apartment might be the only one that was in danger. As you neared the docks, the lack of damage changed.

The ships were crushed. The actual piers were ruined. People were crowded away from where the craters of footsteps were left. The hand pressing you against them shifted until your view was blocked. You wouldn’t be able to see Chris... Your friend... Your family.

The crash of their weight hitting the water terrified you. Their hold was gentle. It didn’t match the destruction each step left behind. You had no idea what would come next. The water was all you heard besides their heart. The pounding next to you started to relax. Calming enough to sound like a normal person’s heart.

As much as you hated it, the warmth and beating of their heart calmed you. It made your eyelids start to droop. It sort of reminded you of the times Chris helped you calm down. Letting you listen to their heartbeat until you fell asleep. Whenever you were at their worst, the anxiety a pain too immense. You hoped they’d be ok. That they would survive the visit of this creature.

The next thing you knew clawed fingers were pressing you against a rough palm again. You were pulled through the air and set down on an open palm. All you could do is stare up at the creature who took you. Eyes glowing with a neon green and looking at you with… concern. Now you could sort of make out their face; it was sort of familiar. That familiarity couldn’t be real.

“You ok?” they asked. Their voice was monstrous. A growl on top of a growl. Except you recognized the hint of a human voice in it. You had been positive that you’d never hear it again.

“I-is it really you, Chris?” you whispered. A nod of the massive head. They had a coating of scales instead of skin. Reptilian eyes staring down with a light that was far less harsh than before. Almost warm. “How… what’s going on? Why didn’t you tell me instead of grabbing me?”

“Heard talking. Hurt me. Hurt you. Had to act.” Chris’s words sounded wrong. As though it was a struggle to make the words come out. “Words… hard. Can’t… make…”

“It’s hard to talk?” They nodded. “But you heard someone talking?” Another nod. “And they were going to hurt us both?” Another nod. “But-but why?

A growl came from them instead of words. A loud thumping came from behind them. You tried to look around, they moved you in the direction you tilted your head. Chris had a tail now, a long tail that stretched dozens of feet behind them. That thumping might have been most of what you heard the night before.

“Is it… because of what did this to you?” you asked. They moved you back to their eyes and nodded. A stiff, strong nod. The wind from the movement pushed you back on their hand just a bit. “Then… then you can’t go back to normal?”

“Don’t… know,” they said. There was a sound of pain in their voice. You were all they had. They were all you had. Your lives were tied together.

“What happens next?” A bit of fear was stuck in your heart. Whoever wanted them dead wanted you dead. It had to be some big company that wanted it. You couldn’t go back to your monotonous daily life. Did you even want that? Especially without them? What if they didn’t want you to stay? What if… what if they were going to just put you somewhere and hope for the best? You’d be a burden on them now.

“Stay together?”

The growl on top of a growl sounded terrified. You could say no. They’d try to find a way to save you. It was clear that would happen. Even like this, when you’d be something they had to take care of, they wanted you to be there. You nodded. That was all they needed to pull you close into a hug. Their heart pounded deafeningly below their chest of scaled skin.

Together the two of you would survive this strange change of pace. Together you could face the world.

#gt #giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t #g/t writing #gt writing #gianttiny #gt community #g/t community #kaijune #short self insert thing i thought of yesterday #please enjoy my random brain ramblings <3

38 notes · View notes