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featherandferns · 11 months

Text

angel (fic)

jj maybank x fem!shy!kook!reader | technically the sequel for fascinating new thing, but can be read as a stand-alone too

content warning: pure filth, to be honest; sex (f and m self-pleasure; protected, p in v)

word count: 3k

Blurb: jj knows there's something hidden beneath all the layers of quiet and meek; he just has to coax it out of you.

Nobody expected JJ Maybank to end-up having a thing for you, including JJ himself. He couldn’t explain how it happened, or when exactly, but it went from him being somewhat wary of you to completely desperate to have your gaze on him. It seemed that one day you just had him: hook, line and sinker. JJ had sort of accepted that he didn’t have a chance, especially with a certain ginger haired boy lingering in the background. He’d admire from afar and settle for friendship if that’s all you could offer him. But then you kissed him, and everything seemed to fall into place. JJ was allowed privy to your thoughts and the different facets of yourself: watching you song write and waking you from a nightmare and indulging in the late-night baking. He liked every part of it. Everything that was you.

Well, almost everything.

“You can’t seriously enjoy this crap?”

“Be quiet, please,” you mumble.

JJ rolls his eyes. He has one arm under his head, propping it up so he can see the screen of your laptop, and the other on your stomach, resting atop your tee shirt. He’s spooning you, cosy under the sheets of your bed.

It’s the second time he’s been in your bedroom. It’s a nice room; perfectly encapsulates you. Vinyl records and CDs and a million and one potted plants and succulents. Fairly lights draped above your bed and around a pinboard of pictures and keepsakes, shining a delicate golden hue on your belongings. An acoustic guitar rests against the wall by your bedroom door. It’s wide open right now. No need to have it shut; your parents aren’t home.

Looking back to the screen, JJ tries and fails to hold in a sigh.

“Can you be quiet, please?” you repeat.

“Who is that? The guy?”

“George the third.”

“The third? Is that the one that murdered all his wives?”

“JJ, I can’t hear it,” you complain quietly.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He barely pays attention to the drama on the screen, too busy foraging through his brains for the history of English royals. “Is he though?”

You sigh, annoyed. “No. That’s Henry the Eighth. And he didn’t murder all of them. Just two.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay then,” JJ sarcastically replies.

For some reason, he feels as though you’ve rolled your eyes. He attempts to watch the show that you’ve become obsessed with lately. The characters don’t talk like normal people. Everything is so flowery and over-the-top that he hardly understands what they’re talking about. It’s boring and dull and overdramatic. He lets his mind wander.

“Baby?”

“JJ?”

“Just a quick question.”

“Yes?” you sigh, patience clearly dwindling.

“Is George the Third the one that got really fat?”

“No, that’s George the fourth,” you say.

“Which one’s George the third then?”

“George the third is the one that was ruler when America won its independence. I mean, do you listen to anything in history?” you chuckle. JJ feels the muscles in your belly tighten and loosen as you do.

“Sometimes,” he shrugs. “When it’s interesting. Like, I don’t get how all of this—”

“Shush! I can’t hear what they’re saying!” you snap.

JJ can’t help but snigger. He likes when you lose your temper with him; let the good-girl side of you slip for a moment to put him in his place.

He nuzzles his face into your hair. It smells like cedarwood and salt water. Maybe he’ll just have a nap. You’re not coming away from the show anytime soon – not until the episode’s done, anyway. JJ closes his eyes and vaguely tunes into the droning of dialogue. Lady this and sire that. He’s just about to properly drift off (maybe it’s been five minutes or so) when he’s woken by the feel of you pushing back against his groin. His hold tightens on your stomach and he reluctantly inches his body away slightly.

“Baby don’t do that,” he mumbles sleepily into your hair.

“Do what?” you reply, absentmindedly.

You’re still watching the Goddamn show. He’s not sure if you’re playing dumb or not.

Then, you do it again.

JJ inhales sharply. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Rubbing up on me like that,” he tells you, half-laughing. “S’not fair.”

“Sorry,” you mumble.

He opens his eyes and looks down at the laptop screen. The moment he makes out what’s happening in the show, it clicks. Oh.

Smirking, JJ can’t keep from taking the piss.

“You didn’t tell me that you’re into regency era porn.”

“Shut up,” you reply all too quickly.

“Is it like all royal era stuff or just Henry the third things?”

“George the third!”

“Tomata-tomato,” JJ mutters. Quiet. Then: “Does it have to be in a bathtub or…”

“JJ!” you whine, embarrassed. He laughs into your hair. “Stop it!”

“Alright, alright! I’m just messing around,” he sniggers.

You don’t reply, don’t even seem to be listening to him, with your eyes shamelessly fixated on the screen. JJ starts to watch too, half-curious as to what has you so entranced.

The lighting is dark. Who JJ has finally come to grasp as king George the third is fucking his wife in the bath. She’s riding him, grinding down on him, still in her dress. The music swells with sharp, dramatic violins. This time, when you push back reflexively against JJ, he doesn’t complain. Instead, he uses his hand that’s placed on your stomach to keep you there. He’s only half ashamed to admit that he’s turned on by the regency-era-sex-scene from your corny, cheesy TV show.

Half hard, he rubs against you, sighing into your hair as he does. You don’t shake him off. Instead, you push back against him.

And then, the scene stops. It’s daylight. Cutting to a scene in a conservatory.

JJ shifts his hand so it’s under your tee shirt, moving to stroke at the skin. He feels your stomach constrict underneath his touch, as if you’re holding your breath, and then relax. He places a kiss to your neck, then another, and begins to work on a hickey. You let out a shaking breath, eyes only half-focused on the show, now. One of your hands comes down to lay atop of his, though not in discouragement. JJ can’t help but rut against you again. In the haze of kissing at your throat, he finds himself wishing a silent prayer that you won’t pull away this time.

He doesn’t mind waiting. Really, he doesn’t. He’d probably wait forever for you (if he really had to). He knows how nervous you get; knows all of this is new to you. Understands. Doesn’t want you to feel pressured. But, God, JJ would be lying if he said that he didn’t want to fuck you. That he didn’t jack off almost every night to the thought of it. That seeing you, drenched head to toe, stood in nothing but a bikini after surfing didn’t have him shifting in his seat. That having you pressing up against him like you had been tonight didn’t make his mind shoot off to the darkest, dirtiest places. So, yes, he’ll stop if you ask, but he’s praying, borderline close to begging, that you don’t.

Your fingers loop into his hair, pulling him off your neck. He shifts enough back so you can turn your head, meeting his eyes. Your breathing heavier than usual, lips wet as if you’ve been licking at them. Your eyes are dancing over his face, back to his eyes, glancing at his lips. JJ’s hand on your stomach continues scratching softly at your skin. He gently rubs himself against you. Please.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whisper. There’s a tinge of nerves to your voice.

JJ nods. Swallows. “I know.”

“But…I want to,” you quietly say. A smile teasing at the corner of your lips as you nod. “If you do, that is.”

JJ leans down so his forehead bumps against yours. He exhales a chuckle against your lips. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about since the hammock.”

You giggle, perhaps a little stunned at the confession, and then your lips are on his.

JJ’s rolling onto his back, sighing into the kiss, pulling you atop of him. His hand that was under his head now reaches out to close the laptop, shoving it to the foot of the bed (hopefully where it won’t fall off). Then he’s kissing you with newfound hunger. Tongue slipping into your mouth lewdly, brushing against yours, swallowing your sighs and breaths. Whenever you break apart, it’s for less than a moment. Your hands have come up to cradle his face, fingers splayed across his cheek and jaw. One of his resides on your waist, squeezing at the skin, and his other has fallen onto your bare thigh; the pyjama shorts you’re wearing having ridden up.

When you lean back against him, rolling down on his crotch, JJ groans against your lips. The gasp you let out is small, startled, as you feel him, hard against you.

“We don’t have to,” JJ reminds you, though the id in him is crying out yes, we do. Please.

You shake your head, hands still on his face. “I want to.”

Thank fucking God.

As the two of begin to kiss again, JJ lets his hand creep up your stomach. His fingers gently trace up the soft skin. He feels the ripples of your breaths as he goes; they’re uneven. Bringing his hand up to your chest, cupping at the bare skin, you sigh against him. He begins to tenderly palm at your breast, running a finger back and forth over your nipple, grinning to himself as he feels it harden at his touch.

You’re grinding back on him now, making him uncomfortably hard under his boxers, sensitive as he rubs against the fabric. JJ opens his eyes to look up at you, your kiss naturally breaking as you begin to breath more and more heavy. Frowns as he sees you dig your teeth into your lower lip. He lifts his hand from off your thigh to bring his thumb to your lips, tugging it free.

“I wanna hear you,” JJ mumbles, tone only slightly demanding.

You open your eyes. They’re angel-like; innocent and shining under the fairy-light glow. Then, you do something that has him twitching, horny past the point of no return. You take his thumb into your mouth and suckle at his finger. JJ groans at the sight. Jesus Christ. Something in you seems to shine through and take control. You don’t say anything as you hold his hand in both of yours, guiding his thumb out your mouth only to begin sucking on his pointer finger. Your eyes slip shut as you do, as if you’re getting off on doing so, and you sigh out a quiet moan. JJ feels himself begin to smirk, taken aback somewhat. Okay…

Pulling his finger from out of your mouth tentatively, he lets his thumb pinch at your chin. The dampness of your spit streaks onto your skin, if only slightly. JJ suddenly knows what his new favourite thought of you is. Your chest is rising and falling, lips parted, cheeks warm as if there’s a part of you longing to be embarrassed. But you’re not. Not shying away from him, at least. JJ’s hands find the hem of your shirt and coax it over your head. As he goes, he guides you to lie down on your back – head at the foot of the bed – and crawls on top of you. One of your feet hesitantly rubs at the back of his calve. Then your fingers are tugging at the bottom of his top and he leans back to take it off. Easing back down to kiss at your chest, he can’t help but sigh against the sensitive skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your nails dig into the skin of his back. You don’t reply, but he feels as though you’re shaking your head. Glancing up, he frowns.

“You are,” he repeats.

“Can you not say things like that to me right now…” you mumble, retreating back into yourself.

JJ sighs, somewhat disappointed.

“Sorry,” you add. It makes JJ chuckle, his breath fanning against your chest.

“You don’t gotta be sorry, baby,” he replies, moving to kiss at one of your nipples. One of your hands creeps up to his face, fingers slipping into his hair. A small gasping exhale at the sensation. “Just wish you saw yourself the way I see you, sometimes.”

You’re sighing at the attention he’s giving your body. His hand comes up to grope at your neglected breast. More gasps, more breaths. You’re still so quiet. JJ knows it’s in there, could see it trying to break out when you were sucking on his fingers, he just has to coax it out of you.

Leaning back (a string of spit following), JJ sits back on his haunches and takes you in. Wonders what to do with you, as if you’re fully at his mercy. You’re looking at him, watching him. Laid out on your back, near bare and gorgeous, breathing heavy. You're half covering your chest, not used to being so exposed before someone.

Maybe he’ll just fuck you now. JJ's barely holding it together as it is. No, you’ll be too tight if he does. He has to remind himself that this is new to you. He wants it to be worth it. Wants it to be perfect. Not only that, but he also wants you to appreciate yourself and your body the way he does. Words clearly aren’t gonna cut it; you go squeamish at the faintest of compliments. But maybe…

JJ feels the shadow of a smirk grow on his face with an idea. Makes your lips twitch with a frown, as if confused where his mind might be. The he’s reaching for your spare hand that’s found purchase in the bed sheets. Taking it by the wrist, he guides it over your body, down to your shorts. Your eyes dart up from following it, meeting his eyes. Your lips move as if to say something, but you don’t. So quiet.

“I got an idea,” JJ tells you. He’s so hard it hurts, but he can’t pass up on this opportunity.

Your gaze doesn’t break apart from JJ’s as you let him guide your hand with his under the hem of your shorts. He manoeuvres your fingers easily (you pliant like a doll) and slides it through your folds. You’re soaking. The feel of it makes you gasp. Leaning down, using his other arm to prop himself above you, he guides your conjoined touch back and forth, skimming over your clit. The brief, fleeting touch makes you moan.

JJ smirks. There it is.

“Feel good, huh?” he breaths against your ear, teasingly. You don’t reply but he feels your hand gain more control, working to finger yourself. JJ chuckles. “Knew you were dirty underneath all the good-girl shit you put on.”

It seems that whatever strap was holding you together has snapped. Your honeyed voice is crying out, in moans and whines. Eyes shut, head tilted back, and JJ basks in the sight of you. He gradually lets his hand leave yours, slipping out of your shorts, and watches as you continue getting yourself off underneath your shorts. Chews on the inside of his cheek as he does, bucking against your leg desperately. He can’t help but pull himself out of his boxers, jacking off at the sight. At your sweet, hopeless sounds. Your spare hand is coming to his throat, pulling at his jaw, guiding his lips to yours in a lustful, messy kiss. You’re moaning into his mouth, gasping, voice high and desperate.

“Good girl,” JJ croons. It spurs you on. He’s smirking again, gasping through his own pleasure. Fuck. You’re perfect. How are you so Goddamn perfect?

“You close, baby? You gonna come?”

Your reply comes in a stammered, broken gasp. Yes.

JJ forces his hand from himself, quickly moving to grab at your wrist, pulling your fingers away. They’re drenched. You whine at the loss of contact, so close to the edge it seems, and he chuckles darkly against your jawline.

“Not yet,” he simply says.

As JJ moves to take off your shorts, shucking off his boxers in this process, he catches a glimpse of your hand moving back up your body. His eyes flick up just in time to see you slip your used fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean. Fuck. How JJ doesn’t come on the spot is beyond him. You open your eyes, catching his gaze, and meekly pull them from your mouth. Before you can form the inevitable apology you’re bound to give, JJ’s darting down to capture your mouth in a kiss. Then, he’s climbing atop of you, rubbing at your entrance. Has the both of you gasping against one another.

“Wait,” you mumble, pulling back. “We need a condom.”

“Shit, yeah,” JJ pants. He’d forgotten about that. You point vaguely to your bedside table.

“There should be one in there. Somewhere.”

JJ chuckles slightly and nods, leaning back to riffle through. He can’t help but notice the vibrator, making a mental note of that for another day. Finding one, he’s coming back to you, sliding it on, desperate to be inside of you.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he keeps his eyes on you.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

“I will,” you quietly reply, a hand coming up to cup at his jaw.

JJ nods and begins to slide in. His eyes reflexively shut; he can’t help it. It feels fucking amazing. Sex with feelings is better than any kegger hook-up he’s ever had.

But you’re tight, too tight, and it’s like your body is trying to push him out. Opening his eyes, he looks down to see your face twisted in pain, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut.

“Hey, hey,” he mumbles, thumbing at your cheek. You force your eyes open, gazing up at him. “You gotta relax, alright? Just breath out for me.”

You take a moment then do as he asks. He feels your body soften. Nudging a bit further in, you actively try not to go tight again.

“It’s just me,” he reminds you. “You’re doing so good, alright?”

To keep you lax, he rubs gently at your clit. Eventually, your body opens up to him. Once JJ’s eased all the way in, you’re squeezing him like a vice.

“You can move, JayJ,” you say, almost anxious that he isn’t.

JJ laughs a little. He won’t last a second if he moves right now. Closing his eyes, composing himself, he replies, “I really can’t. Gimme a second.”

Soon enough, the two of you sink into a rhythm. JJ places a hand one side of your head, another on your hip, angling you up slightly. Your back begins to arch and you’re moaning again, and JJ decides that it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. Prettier than when you sing. The sounds echoing off the bedroom walls are filthy enough to make Satan himself blush.

"Fuck baby. Feel so fucking good."

Groaning against your shoulder, moaning into your ear, JJ feels his resolve begin to break. He’s close. The way your body is reacting to him has him thinking you are too. His hand leaves your hip to rub at your clit. Quick, firm circles. You start to gasp, high pitched and euphoric, and JJ know he can’t last much longer. It’s too good.

The moment you finish, JJ lets go. The two of you come almost together, riding it out, clinging to each other as if you’ll float away if not. JJ eventually let’s himself collapse on top of you, breathing shallow and frantic. You’re still clenching around him, body dealing with the aftershocks.

JJ’s not sure how he’s supposed to go about the rest of his life knowing what it’s like to have you in bed. How he’s meant to get anything done with the memory of how you sound, gasping out his name. The picture stained in his mind of you sucking your fingers clean.

He presses a kiss to your damp neck, then another and another until he somehow finds your mouth. You sigh as you kiss him back, a hand coming to cradle at his face yet again. He pulls back, opens his eyes into yours, and you give him the sweetest smile he’s ever seen. Bashful and blissed out and beautiful.

“I love you,” you tell him, still a little breathless.

JJ smiles back. Heart stammers.

You wanted him. You picked him.

Kissing you once more, tender and fleeting, JJ sighs. “I love you too.”

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mammonistheman · 1 year

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Dating Solomon, Simeon, Diavolo, and Barbatos would include headcanons?

AAAAAA I LOVE THESE CHARACTERS SM!! thank you for requesting!! I hope this is good enough!! I didn't know if this would be for a poly relationship or independent, but I wrote it for individually if that's okay- I can always do one w a poly relationship!! Also this is a little short bc I have way more requests than expected 💀

What it would be like to date...

Solomon;

This guy is a sneaky wizard, and although he is described as shady he has a good heart.. I guess-

Will probably make and request you his food, and if you pull through for him that would leave him giddy and you dead(most likely)

Probably to avoid this; you'll try to bake with him as much as you can. Teaching him properly on how to make good food, yk? He'll enjoy the company and won't catch onto you trying to save everyone's life-

A side from food, if you are an average human, he'd love to teach you so much about magic!! If theres one thing he's skilled at, it would be that.

Probably would teach you simple tricks for protection against demons in the Devildom, or even simple things to get you through the day.

He would also love to have movie nights whenever the two of you are free, Asmo may or may not tag along out of no where to give you two a complete set of face masks, skin care products, fluffy socks or even slippers, and snacks for you both to share.

Simeon;

The. Sweetest. Dating. Partner. On. Earth.

And in the Devildom or Celestial Realm..

Either way, he'd be the sweetest. He is that type of boyfriend to always check up on you, as well as your mental health, and will do anything you ask of him on way or another.

You two, when you're both free, would go on cliche dates. This could be going to the movies, a fancy restaurant, arcades, or simple days out the both of you can enjoy each others company.

Or if you two aren't feeling going classy, you both usually just look after Luke to feel like a complete family. Luke will notice the close loving nature of you both, and feels appreciated at the fact you're including him in some sort of way. He may even call you Mum/Dad accidentally at some point-

Simeon, as well, from time to time will gift you with expensive gifts. These would be rare, but be as pretty as a specifically enchanted ring with some sort of benefit, or if you have any particular interest in something he will do all the give it to you!

Diavolo;

As Prince of literal Hell, he won't have a lot of free time to spend with you. He'll have a lot of paperwork 24/7, and events to attend or arrange.

But you know damn well he'll somehow escape the eye of Barbatos to sneak out and spend time with you, and would probably enjoy every moment on it.

Although, apart from that, his love language has some sort of take on gifts. He loves spending money on whatever you fancy on doing or what you want without a problem. He will buy you many outfits for any events you two will attend, even down to any powerful objects lost in time you're so desperate to get(as long as he knows its safe for you to have) or a trip you want to go on.

Although that. he will also treasure communication! He will send you little text between every sheet of paper work he does, a positive sticker to send everytime you reply too. Honestly, you're his main distraction in the way of doing daily chores.

Also one to take you out on cliche date, especially to some sort of arcade to go on rides with you and to win prizes for you to have. Or even something like a circus, something exciting for the both of you to have fun with.

You probably have matching plush toys with him, or make him start collecting them

Barbatos;

Will try not to get distracted by you during his working hours, that being all the time, but he just can't help it! He could stand their for hours, just listening about yourself and your interests.

Tea dates between you and him, or if not, somewhere typically private for you guys to not be in public and to enjoy eachothers time without interruption.

Will help you with any tutoring you need, for any subject and is on a mission to make it easy to understand for you. He's patient and willing to provide anything you need.

Anytime you go to sit down at a table, he pulls out the chair for you to sit down.

Makes lunches and food for you whenever you can to make sure you're healthy and eating the right nutrients, and will go up to the human world for any snacks you're craving.

Will even give you baking lessons if you're really interested, it would make his day to instruct you on the many traditional Devildom delicacies you want to learn.

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hoboal87 · 2 years

Text

Shadow

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, OFCs

Warnings: Fluff, just soooo much fluff, brothers being brothers, kittens.

Word Count: 2600

Summary: Sam finds a stray kitten.

Hey! I've written something! The last five months have been kinda crazy, but I promise I have more things in the works. This fic is unbeta'd so please excuse my tense issues. A special thanks to @synmorite and @writethelifeyouwant for dealing with this absolute fluffy nonsense from me. This was meant to be a drabble... but it got away from me. Inspired by this post

My Masterlist

It started with just one kitten. Sam was out on his morning routine, when he spotted the kitten, hiding (poorly) in a bush next to the bunker. He approaches it slowly, high pitched cries filling the air. Sam searches for a mama cat, or even siblings, but the kitten appears to be alone and abandoned. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks old, and fit in the palm of Sam's hand. It was a little mangy, dark fur matted and gunk in its green eyes.

It purred as Sam held it close to him, the little thing had to be starving.He wraps the kitten in his sweatshirt, and makes the unwise decision to sneak the kitten inside. Once he has the stowaway safely in his bedroom he quickly opens his laptop and Google's 'what to feed

an abandoned kitten.' A small meow comes from the kitten, having unwrapped itself from the hoodie, and is now toddling across Sam's bed, clearly seeking his attention.

He sneaks into the kitchen, trying to find something that will satiate the kitten until he can get to a store and buy proper food. There's some canned tuna-- who knows how old it is but figures that's better than nothing. He thinks about getting some milk, but remembers from the search that cows milk is actually bad for cats, that water is better. He finds a saucer, Men of Letters had all kinds of china stashed away that he or Dean hardly used and scoops a bit of the tuna onto it, and fills a bowl full of water.

Dean eyes him suspiciously when they run into each other in the hall, but doesn't say anything. When Sam returns to his room, the kitten has made itself at home, curling up on his pillow, kneading the sheet, and purring loudly, well, he supposes this is his cat now. Dean's gonna be pissed, but his rules always involved dogs, not cats, Sam reasons, and puts the saucer and bowl on the bed, and watches as the strong aroma makes the kitten's head perk up, sniffing the air before clumsily making it's way towards the food, and chomping away.

"Guess we need to get you a name," Sam's wonders outloud to the kitten, who is currently focused on the food in front of it. "Shadow?" He tests, it's not that original, he knows, but what else could he name it, Snowball? He even looks through a pet name finder, but 'Shadow' is the only thing that seems to stick, and he figures it could work for a boy or girl.

A knock on the door startles Sam, and throws his hoodie back over the kitten in a desperate attempt to hide it. Dean's eyebrow furrows as Sam answers the door doing his best to make himself look like he's not done something wrong. Dean tells him that Jody's asked for some help on a case, a milk-run, but they've been going through an abnormal calm: they haven't had a case in weeks, and Dean has started to get antsy. Sam declines, he's enjoyed the quiet, plus, now he's got a kitten who needs him. Shadow nearly reveals himself by letting out a meow, and Dean seems to want to question Sam, when instead a loud, boisterous sneeze leaves him. Crap, Dean's allergic, Sam always thought he was lying about that.

"It's probably 'cause this place hasn't been cleaned in ages," Sam excuses. "Not since Mrs. Butters…"

"Yeah, well, it's not like we can hire a cleaning service," Dean sniffs.

Sam promises to clean from top to bottom while Dean's away, also formulating a plan to keep Shadow's presence a secret until he can figure out the right time to tell Dean. Dean says he'll be back in a few days, a week at most, and within a few minutes the roar of the Impala's engine fills the garage, and Sam knows he and Shadow are safe.

"You almost got us caught, buddy," Sam chuckles as he uncovers the kitten, small remnants of tuna cover the kitten's face, he scratches the top of Shadow's head, as he laps at the tuna still on the plate.

By the time Shadow's done eating, his little belly has rounded, and he climbs into Sam's lap as he continues researching, making lists of what he'll need to buy, and even starts looking into the local vets. He's glad he told Dean that he would stay behind when Jody called for backup on a case, he won't have to explain why he's suddenly bringing in loads of pet supplies.

He decides to bring the kitten with him to the pet store, figuring the workers may be more equipped with helping him get the right products to make sure Shadow is getting proper nutrition. The kitten curiously inspects the car when Sam sets him down inside, sniffing loudly and even pawing at the dangling keys as Sam starts the engine. Shadow eventually settles on his lap, quietly napping as Sam makes his way into town.

He pulls up to the pet store, and makes the realization that he has nothing to keep Shadow in while they buy supplies. He supposes that he could just carry the kitten, he only weighs a few pounds, if that, and he wasn't too squirmy, and figures that's his best option. The young girls are immediately in awe when Sam walks in with Shadow, the kitten letting out the tiniest of meows, clearly trying to bring even more attention to the pair.

He doesn't even know where to begin. Food he rationalizes is probably the best place, Shadow, as much as he seemed to enjoy the tuna, probably needs something with more nutrition, and Sam remembers one search telling that abandoned kittens, especially those who are extremely young, need formula. Sam stands in the aisle, overwhelmed by the choices, until a woman closer to his age sees the confused look on his face.

"You need some help?" Heather, the tag on her shirt reads, and Sam turns to show her Shadow, and proceeds to go on for nearly five minutes about how he found the kitten and doesn't know the first thing about taking care of a cat. When he finally takes a breath, Heather chuckles slightly, before showing him the basics. She gets him a small buggy, and helps him start to fill it. Formula and a syringe to feed him, wet food, dry food, food bowl, a fancy water bowl with a filter, a flea and tick bath after Sam tells her that as far he knows the kitten's only ever lived outside. She suggests gently wiping his eyes until a vet appointment can be made, and even gives Sam the local vets number.

They get to the section Sam was dreading most, litter boxes. Heather tells Sam that most kittens don't need much training to use the box, but expect a few accidents, especially once confirming that Shadow is, in fact, a boy. Heather then leads him to the toy sections, pointing out cat trees and other things that Shadow might have fun playing with. she even suggests that if Sam wanted to put in the time and effort, he could even train the kitten to eventually go on walks, though he thinks that may be a little too much.

By the time they're done, his cart is full, and Shadow has migrated from the crook of his arm, to being perched on Sam's shoulder, or at least he was until he lost his balance and made – what Sam felt had to be a terrifying for the kitten (and not for him) – six foot drop to the floor. Shadow just looked up at him and meowed as if he was saying "I'm okay!" The girl behind the checkout counter struggled to suppress her laugh as Sam coddled the kitten, shushing him and giving him soft pets, almost like he was calming an upset child.

Heather assures him that Shadow will be fine, that young kittens are a little wobbly on their feet and falls are going to happen. Sam offers a half smile to the girl behind the counter, making her blush, as he continues to fuss over the kitten.

An hour later, Sam's set up a cat tree in one corner of his room, a litter box in the other, and gave Shadow a bath. The kitten was skinnier than he thought, and he wondered how long he'd been alone outside. Sam rummages through the bag to find the kitten formula, Heather suggesting that he could use it to supplement Shadow's diet between portions of wet food. He carefully mixes everything together, and grabs a small bottle, and Shadow immediately takes it, suckling down the whole thing in only a matter of minutes.

That night, Shadow ignores the plush bed Sam bought for him, opting to lie down so that his head rested on Sam's shoulder, kneading him gently and purring loudly.

By the time Dean returns, Sam has unfortunately forgotten that his brother doesn't know about the kitten until he starts sneezing every five minutes.

"I thought you were going clean, Sam," Dean grumbles between sneezes. He had cleaned, but then Shadow decided to escape Sam's room, and honestly, it's a miracle Sam found him.

"I heard the pollen is really bad this time of year," Sam says, hoping that Dean will buy that it's something that he carried from Sioux Falls and not the kitten stashed away in his room. "Maybe you should wash all of your things again and see if that helps?"

"I was in Baby for 5 hours and didn't sneeze once, Sam. In fact, I felt fine until I walked into the library," Sam mentally berates himself, he and Shadow spent practically the whole day in the library yesterday. Shadow explored every inch, and even laid down on the table while Sam did research.

Another week goes by, and Sam, unbeknownst to Dean, had been slipping Benadryl into Dean’s eggs. Sam did his research, certain pet allergies can lessen or even go away once a person has had enough exposure (and he figures a few anti-allergens couldn’t hurt). Sam even lets Shadow roll around on one of Dean’s shirts when he’s gone. Sam hates keeping Shadow locked away but until he can acclimate Dean to the idea of a cat in the bunker, but until then, it’s Sam’s room only.

Dean’s been acting strange, Sam’s noticed over the last few weeks. Suddenly buying cans upon cans of Tuna, something Sam knows he hates. Sam never sees the tuna being eaten, and yet one by one the cans disappear. Maybe he’s sneaking into Sam’s room and feeding Shadow when Sam’s not around? Maybe this is Dean’s way of telling him that he’s figured out about Shadow, but is too stubborn to say anything. After a second shopping trip, again returning with an obscene amount of tuna, Sam decides to call his bluff.

“Here,” Sam slides the tuna sandwich over to Dean. “I always thought you hated tuna, but you’ve been getting so much of it lately, I must’ve been wrong all these years.” Dean eyes the sandwich warily, they both know the only thing he hates more than tuna is turkey bacon, and Sam’s sure that he would rather eat that than admit that he knows and has been taking care of the kitten in Sam’s room.

“I’m good,” Dean excuses, though they both know there’s only one way out of this particular situation. “I just– I figured it’d be good to have more shelf-stable food around here. Never know when the fridge could break or the power could go down…”

Sam chokes back a laugh, the greatest minds in the world built the bunker, it was dormant for over 50 years and everything worked just as it should. They barely even understood how they got power, water, Sam’s still not entirely sure how the wifi worked there.

“So if we somehow lost power, you’d be willing to eat tuna everyday until we eventually die?” Sam asks skeptically. “Admit it Dean, you bought these for Shadow.”

“You know about Shadow?” Dean asks, confusion laced in his voice.

“Of course I know about Shadow! He’s sleeping in my room right now.”

“Um, no,” Dean’s brow furrows, “he’s in my room, waiting for his lunch.”

Had Dean actually been sneaking Shadow out of his room to secretly feed the kitten? Did he think that Sam wasn’t feeding him enough? But if Shadow was getting twice the amount of meals, he should be putting on more weight. Dean gestures for Sam to follow him, scraping the tuna off the bread, and into a bowl. Sam rolls his eyes and follows behind Dean, waiting impatiently for him to open his bedroom door, and free Sam’s kitten.

When Dean opens the door, the sight on the bed surprises Sam. There is a kitten sitting on Dean’s pillow that looks nearly identical to Shadow, but Sam’s spent enough time with his kitten to know that this one isn’t his. Dark fluffy fur, but the giveaway is this kitten has golden eyes as opposed to Shadow’s green ones. They must be siblings, and a pang of guilt fills Sam; he should’ve looked harder, but there were no signs of a mama or other kittens.

“I found him outside a week ago, figured that we could give him a home. Just been trying to find a way to see if it was okay with you.” Dean picks up the scrawny kitten, who lets out a high pitched meow. “I couldn’t get him to eat anything, so the girl at the pet store suggested tuna.”

“That’s not Shadow,” he states dumbly, unsure of what else to say. Dean looks at him curiously before Sam makes his way to his own room, Dean following closely behind him with his own kitten. Shadow is sitting on the edge of Sam’s bed when he enters, something he loves, knowing that he seems to recognize his footsteps. “This is Shadow,” Sam states as Dean walks in.

“I knew you were hiding something in here!” Dean accuses. “You know I’m allergic to cats, Sam! I could’ve died!” Sam can’t help but laugh, clearly Dean had forgotten that he was also hiding a cat, and was even at that moment, holding a cat in his arm.

“Yeah, your life has clearly been in danger this whole time,” Sam chortles. Shadow jumps down from the bed, landing with a soft thump and umph, and Dean’s Shadow squirms in his arms. He wriggles around until Dean finally lets him down, and the two brothers immediately begin to play– one Shadow chasing the other Shadow around.

“Well, one of us is going to have to change their cat’s name,” Dean states matter-of-factly. “We can’t both have kitten’s named ‘Shadow.’ I’m the oldest, so my Shadow keeps his name.”

After three rounds of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Dean concedes to changing his Shadow’s name. An argument ensues when Dean picks a new name. He, like Sam, hadn’t given much thought to a name outside of Shadow. Dean even tries to compromise that they both change their respective kitten’s name, but Sam refuses. He’s had his kitten much longer, and his Shadow has already begun responding to his name. As the kittens settle down, curling into each other, Dean announces that his kitten will become Shadow II.

Sam rolls his eyes, but accepts the new name. As the kittens drift off, Dean makes a comment that takes Sam by surprise, “do y’think there’s more out there?”

Forever Tags:

@akshi8278 @that-one-gay-girl @supraveng @coldmuffinbanditshoe @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @screechingartisancashbailiff @flamencodiva @lyarr24 @slamminmine @ilovetaquitosmmmm @deandreamernp @stoneyggirl @spnbaby-67 @sandlee44 @spngi @drakelover78 @mrswhozeewhatsis @mimaria420 @spnbaby-67 @black-rose-29 @luvmybbies @manawhaat @pink-sparkly-witch @pisces-cutie @deeranger @shaelyn102 @negansnympho89

#sam winchester #dean winchester #fluff #spn fic #kittens #gen fic

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torturedproperty · 13 days

Text

Sleep Paralysis Friend - Fuzzy

A/N: Part one of the Fuzzy inspired work. This is the start of a collection of works that are heavily inspired by the discography of Waterparks. You will find lyrics and call backs to the song, Fuzzy, (and possibly others) in this work. And since this work isn't completed (I said part one) there will be more added on either as another post, or edited on here (we will date when edited). So without further ado. . .

Warning: This chapter/part contains a slight description of sleep paralysis with mention of character having mental illness. Due note that the writer may be wrong on it, but it's a work a fiction. Don't take it to heart.

Synopsis: Indigo finds trouble sleeping. One night he finds himself helplessly bounded to his bed. Another night, he finds himself with a visitor

Frozen. Nothing listens to the signals my brain sends. My whole body is stapled to the bed and all I can move is my eyes. I can feel my lungs working double time as I try harder to move something, anything. If I scream no note will be heard.

As my eyes adjust to the evening in my room. They scan the room for anything abnormal. I’ve seen a few horror films where this happens, but this is reality. This is my life and my room. Furniture starts to become more than formless shadows and into detailed outlines of each and every item. Depending on how close to the window they are, the more depth it is in my sight.

The right side of my room is darker. With no light reaching out, it seems more of a dark hole of fear. The longer I look, the more pain I get behind my eyes, but I can’t sleep to look away. Something feels like there’s something outside the doorway of my room. The dark shade of gray that forms the wall holds ghastly forms that move slightly like a sheet in the wind.

If I could, I would shake my head and knock the look away. Instead, I close my eyes. It’s the closest I can do to the original plan. I know it’s just the fear that’s coursing through my veins and my imagination trying to scare me. Nothing was truly there in the halls right?

Curiosity, it’s dangerous but it tugs my eyes open once again. My eyes capture figures now in the hall. Tall, dark shadow ones that seem to be glued to the wall. Watching back. They make no advancement towards the bedroom, but they don’t leave either. What did they want? One has eyes, they flicker with life, but before I can get any detail, I close my eyes.

Lungs are pumping and I can barely catch my breath. I keep my eyes tightly closed. With my body out of commission right now, I’m bait for the creatures. All I can do is pray. Pray that I’ll be safe. Then again, religion has never helped, but I’m desperate and scared. It’s a mental prayer to anyone listening. It repeats and repeats like a needle needing to be picked up on the record.

When I open my eyes, light from outside my window is crawling through. Morning has taken the stage.

Those creatures from the other night, they linger and show their faces every so often. According to my therapist it’s just a symptom of sleep paralysis. Whatever is seen during that time is just a figment of my imagination. She states it could be anxiety or any of the other mental demons that I’m fighting on a daily basis.

✞✞✞

Bright lights flash from underneath the blinds, seeping through the perimeter of them. It stays, unlike the headlights of passing cars. This bleeding light stays, highlighting the blinds in my bedroom. The constant purring of an engine only helps piece the idea to fact that the lights were due to a car’s headlights.

My right hand, heavy from resting on top of it, flops onto the night stand that holds my phone. I tilt it from its resting spot before flooding the bedroom with its artificial light. The digits on the lock screen scream 11:50 something. My brain seems to buffer as I take that in. I can read the numbers. This isn’t like the other nights. No. I’m not held against my bed. I can move, I can read. This isn’t some nightmare or anything. This is reality.

Since, it’s real. Who’s pulling up to the apartment at this hour?

I groan before putting my phone back down and covering my head with the pillow. If I ignore it, maybe it’ll go away. Maybe it’s someone who’s just lost, trying to find the interstate. The lies that I tell myself, they are comforting. It’s not something I should get used to, but in this case, it feels safer than letting my brain run away.

Time ticks away, but the lights stay. Mentally counting the seconds that soon turn to minutes. If they were lost, they would have found directions and driven off by now, so what has them locked in place? The car did sound like it was parked.

A groan slips from my lips before I kick the bed sheets off and to the end of the bed. Twisting my tired body from ignoring the window to sitting up and facing the light. Before I can wake up the joints in my knees to pull me off the bed, the engine’s rhythmic hum dies off.

Everything in me locks. Feet are nailed to the carpet. My hands grip the side of the mattress, digging into the fitted sheet and pulling it up. The music in my chest speeds up and plays in my head to the point it’s all I can hear. I close my eyes. They lock tightly like everything in me.

“This is just a dream.” I mutter to myself. “This is a dream and I’m asleep. Another nightmare.” I add, even though it’s a lie. Whatever to help ease the fear that’s running free in my veins again.

Tapping on glass grabs my attention. Too scared, but I open my eyes anyway. The blinds that block my view of the source gives a sort of silhouette of a figure, a person maybe?

I stand. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because death does sound better than living some days. Maybe because I need to know the creator of the tapping. Whatever the reason is, it was deep in my mind. I take a few steps from my bed to the window. Fingers wrap around the white cord that acts as a pulley to the curtain. It doesn’t take much for the blinds to go half way and show the figure.

The moonlight can only give so much detail, but what I can make out is a humanoid figure. Dark features, dark hair, dark clothes, but those eyes are the opposite. They feel electric, but no eyes could be that bright. I know my tired mind is playing tricks on me at this hour.

A hand from him raises before waving towards me before it twists and his fingers curl towards the palm, but one. The index curls then releases, gesturing me outside. The figure does this a few times until its hand joins the rest of his shadow form.

I reach up and slide the lock from one side to the other before I take the lip of the window and tug it upward. My arms want to resist, but the signals in my brain are louder and soon the window is opened up to a quarter.

“Come,” the stranger tempts me with his delicate voice. Soft like a sweet silver bell hidden deep within a christmas song. “Step into the moonlight.”

I glance down at him. He’s shorter, but that may be because the flat is built up on a slight hill. It feels, well strange like this is a scene from a rom com where the boy comes to rescue his sweet princess for an evening in town, but twisted with a horror plot. What’s his motive for showing up at my window and not knocking on the front door like a sane person?

“Climb into my bad night.” He adds.

His English is odd. Speaking in code almost. His bad night? It doesn’t ease the feeling that wants me to close the blinds and call up a friend. It’s too late to ignore him.

I take a step back. Distance between him and I feels right. My head lowers and my eyes fall to the carpet that tickles my feet. Shuffling backwards can tell the stranger I’m not comfortable. Hell, I’m past that, but speaking that feels impossibe.

“Everything is alright.” Normally, if anyone said that, it would come off like a question, especially how I had pulled away, but no. The stranger says it like if I go with him, everything will be alright. Will it though?

I shake my head. “I- I rather. . .” There’s no more confidence in my body and I can’t find anything else to help to drag the words out. I keep my attention on my feet before turning to my bed. I should be asleep, but instead I’m talking to him.

“Ah.” His voice breaks the silence.

Could he understand what I was trying to say? When I look towards him, I see he’s a step away from the window, so it seems so. He’s closer to the car, but how my eyes have adjusted it’s more of a limo. It only adds to the confusion of this interaction.

“Me, myself, and I,” he states. “We like to play a little game called hide and sleep all night.”

It’s a strange way to speak about oneself or were there three of him? Maybe he was part of a set of triplets. At this point, anything is possible. The theory of this being reality is fading with each passing minute.

The game called “hide and sleep” sounds more of something my therapist would say I was doing when the world gets too much to me, but can one play my version with three? This couldn’t be the same thing now could it?

A burst of light comes from my phone on the nightstand and drags me out of all the what ifs my brain was creating. A text flashes, but from this distance I can’t make out any words or who it’s from. All it is is a blur of color and lines that illuminate in front of me. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this is a dream. Whatever it is, is making my head throb.

I put down the phone and looked back towards the window. Nothing stares back. The stranger vanished all within a few seconds of checking my phone. The only thing outside my window is the dying grass that needed a drink a week ago. No sign of him or that limo that was behind him. Gone like a cinderella case.

My hands rub at my tired eyes to make sure that what I wasn’t seeing was truly gone. Nothing appears in the view. I give a sign before walking over to the window. Nothing. Not even tire tracks. My hands tug the window shut followed by the blinds.

“You’re hallucinating now, Indy.” I mutter to myself before climbing into his bed. The sheets get pulled back up to my shoulders. I close my eyes hoping to drift off back to sleep. Whatever I saw, whoever was there, it wasn’t real. None of that was.

#Indigo Juno #Chapter: Fuzzy #Collection: Greatest Hits #Writing

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simpscripts · 2 years

Text

Caught Part 1? (Viktor x Afab!Reader)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut

Prompt: You’re still at the lab late at night working on some assisting work for Viktor. You end up spending the night in the lab but not without letting your mind wander to the attractive scientist. What will happen when Viktor happens to show up to the lab late at night and hears you moaning his name?

A/N: I don’t actually know if I am even a little bit good at writing smut or writing in general but it makes me happy so I am going to keep doing it. I hope you all enjoy and if you would like to request anything or see other projects I’m working on please follow! Also if you would like me to continue this story in a part 2 please let me know!

Two in the morning, eyes burning as I look over at the clock over the pile of paperwork. It’s far too late to go home at this rate. Might as well make use of the overnight cot tucked away in the corner, and try not to think about the overwhelming warming scent of Viktor that was practically baked into the sheets from all of his own long nights.

It’s hard enough working next to him all this time, light brushes of skin when handing him tools, his warm soft eyes that captured your attention in milliseconds, and the slight glimpses of his scent that the room naturally kept. Half of the days once I make it home I end up crumpled in the corner of the shower with his name escaping my lips. Always his name that escapes my lips.

My body is aching and cracking on my way over to the cot but mind is still awake and screaming. With a huff I toss off my pants and jacket before sliding under the thin blankets. Face automatically pressing into the pillow while inhaling his scent, remembering he had just used this cot the other night. Shaking breaths escape my lips as I try to conceal the moan making it’s way up my throat.

“Go to sleep, just go to sleep.” Pleading that this chant might just work but after several tosses and turns I can no longer ignore the ache between my thighs.

I feel so exposed, the wide open room shared amongst my colleagues and friends but his essence is everywhere, little reminders of his character that just seem to wrap around my skin whenever I cross the threshold. The only thing left is Viktor himself to hold me in his embrace.

“Fuck it.” And with that my mind was made up, succumbing to every sensation I wanted to indulge in.

Closing my eyes I reach a hand down to pull up my shirt to start playing with the nipple, imagining its his long slender fingers tracing over my skin, pinching the area teasingly. The other hand grasps onto the blanket bringing it close to my face letting me inhale his scent. If I was going to risk touching myself in the lab to the idea of this man why not go full in and indulge in any sense I can get to feel the brief pleasure of what I can only imagine what its like to be with him.

Mind stuck in a revolving door of fantasies, does he take charge, maybe he loves dirty talk, or could spend hours upon hours ramping up foreplay? There was no shortage of material for my brain to present to fuel me closer and closer to release as my hands have now slipped below the waistband to thread through the slick folds, shuddering with every swipe against the clit.

“Fuck, Viktor please” walls clenching desperately against my own fingers, desperately seeking release with every breath of him that filled my lungs. Nerves burning and the waves of vibrating numbness helps coax the dream of his hands touching me, god those fingers pumping inside me.

My fingers finally grasp the position that has me practically weeping, babbling out pleas to the imaginary ghost of Viktor. Rising higher, tension tightening, so fucking close.

“Y/N?” Fuck I can practically hear his voice calling out my name pulling my core right to the edge.

“Darling are you.. Oh.. Am I interrupting something?” Eyes fling open as his voice registers in my brain. The pleasure in my body is ripped so far away from the edge I was dangling off of, tears threatening to spill at the intense chemical whiplash. I am afraid to look, afraid to watch the disgust in his eyes as he examines me in our shared space, of a wall being built between us because of this.

“You called out my name” Fact not a question, he has seen enough I thought. Of course he would see this, why did I ever think this was a good idea?

“I am so sorry Viktor, I didn’t know you would be coming in, I was tired and” Cutting my sentence short as I noticed him getting closer and closer before setting himself down on the edge of the bed, angled towards my body that is poorly covered by the bunched up blanket.

“My dear you do not understand how many nights I have spent in this cot calling out your name. Wishing that one day I might just get to hear you beg for me as well.” My heart is doing somersaults while my thighs have started relaxing back from their frozen state. I can hear the pants dripping off my lips as I feel him take hold of my face in his hands and pressing a simple kiss against my trembling lips.

“Please let me fulfill your fantasy as you have fulfilled mine my love.”

#arcane imagines #Viktor x reader #Viktor x reader smut #smut #Viktor x you #x reader smut #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #Viktor

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primofate · 3 years

Text

Breaking up Part 2 Albedo x gn!reader

Sorry it took so long! Haha. Yeah tumblr effed over for me. But here it is! :D

Scenario: Breaking up and getting back together again

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst? NOT PROOFREAD

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 1) (Part 3 - Final)

“Sucrose... Do you know where Y/N went?”

5 days 3 hours and 12 minutes. He’d been counting. He’d been counting since you left. It was only today that he had the courage to ask Sucrose about it.

Sucrose jumps at the sudden call of her name.

Albedo had not been the same. The frequent mistakes in the lab proved it. The constant slips of the hand and test tubes shattering on the floor told Sucrose that perhaps that was how his heart looked like too.

“...No, I don’t,” Sucrose simply says, then lets the silence of the lab fill the air. Only the bubbles from their experiments hanging. It was still for a moment, Sucrose going back to her calculations and research. Albedo sat in front of his alchemy set, blankly staring at it.

He doesn’t even understand what being “tired” feels like anymore. He hasn’t had a decent sleep. Every small movement in the house, every whisper of the wind he would bolt up in bed, thinking it was you coming in from the front door. Sometimes he would hear someone shuffling, he would stop and listen for you, but then realizes that the sound was the sound of his legs under the covers, trying to keep warm without you around.

Sucrose glances up at her mentor. He’s buried his face in his hands, his hair in slight disarray. She knew what was going to happen next. He was going to stand up and just walk away from the lab, and Sucrose was not going to see him until tomorrow again.

Tomorrow, the cycle would repeat.

Albedo couldn’t function. It was pathetic. He really thought that he must be such a sight right now, eyes heavy with exhaustion, hair down and clothes a little unruly. He ran away from the lab again. He abandoned his “important” experiment and went back home, retreating in his room, falling on his knees and slumping on the bed in front of him.

He buried his face into his arms and tried to piece his heart back together.

“Albedo, will you ever get tired of me?”

There was a soft hint of a frown on your face. Silly you, Albedo thought. Always worried about being apart from him. He only smiles and cups your chin in his hand, leans in close to press his forehead against yours to whisper, “Never,”

His fists clutch at the bedsheets, the fabric scrunching up under his hands. Every.damn.time. he tried to take a break, he would be reminded of you. Every thing reminded him of you. Breathing reminded him of you. It was as if you were right beside him and yet you weren’t.

It was him. He was supposed to be the one asking “Y/N, will you ever get tired of me?” He was supposed to be the one worried. But he hadn’t been because he had taken you for granted. He thought that you’d always just be there, waiting for him patiently as you always had but now that he was alone, he realized just how lonely this silence could be.

“You must have been lonely...waiting here for me in this silence...”

His voice was muffled by the sheets, and he didn’t know who he was talking to. He did that a lot these days. Saying things that he wished you could still hear.

The next day, just as Sucrose predicted. It was the same. Halfway through his experiment Albedo stopped, and stared at nothing in particular. She wondered if, whenever he did that, he remembered the things he said to you that day.

But, just as Sucrose thinks today would end up the same...

it didn’t.

“Big brother Albedo!” Klee stormed into the lab, the door slamming open really loud. “Oh...I’m sorry, I didn’t check the sign... I...” Klee stepped out to look at the door sign and found “KEEP OUT” still there. “Oh no...! I did a mistake! Sorry big brother,” the little girl fumbled with her fingers and swung from side to side to show her apology.

A hint of a smile appears on Albedo’s face and Sucrose was thunderstruck. There had been no expression on the Kreideprinz’s face for the longest time that the smile had felt so foreign. “It’s alright, Klee. Do you need help with something?” and his voice wasn’t hoarse. If there was anything that could cheer him up, it would be Klee.

He was done prioritizing his research over the people that really mattered.

“Look what I got! I’ve never seen such a pretty flower in Mondstadt before,” Klee showed off the blue flower to Albedo, eyes shining and wide. Albedo touched the petals as Klee held it up for him. “Ah, yes, Glaze Lilies. You can only find them in Liyue, Klee,” Albedo explains. Klee bounces excitedly.

“Ohhhh! That’s amazing! Y/N must have travelled there recently!”

The silence in the lab was deafening. Albedo’s hand drops from the flower as he looks at Klee, confused. Sucrose had stopped what she was doing, wide-eyed, staring at the young bomber. “...What do you mean, Klee?” Albedo whispered out.

Hearing your name said by someone else made it all the more real that you weren’t here with him anymore.

“Oh! See, Klee was in Windrise and... I was looking at the fishes...” Klee gasped a little, “Please don’t tell Master Jean!” she whispered pointedly but continued. “I saw Y/N there, and Y/N gave me a really big hug and gave me this Guh lays Lily,” the young girl got the name wrong, but Albedo hadn’t been listening anymore. He stood up and crouched down to eye level with Klee, hands on her shoulders. “W-When, Klee?” he clears his throat and tries again, “When did this happen?” Sucrose had also been listening and watching in bated breath. Klee gave one of her biggest, most innocent smiles, not knowing how crucial this information had been to Albedo. “Just now! I just came back from Windrise!”

Albedo didn’t feel the slightest sorry that he bolted out of the lab without explaining to Klee. She would understand and Surcrose was there. He sprinted towards the gates of Mondstadt like his life depended on it. In some senses, it really did.

I can make it.

He was panting hard. His footsteps thundering in his ears. His breath coming in quick ins and outs. His heart is about to fly off its cage.

I can make it. It’s just outside of Mondstadt.

Wind rushes past him, the pigeons on the bridge outside of Mondstadt, disturbed, flying away in a frenzy. Timmie shouting after him.

Please be there. Please.

It takes him longer than he wanted. He wanted to be faster, wanted to be there already but he was still running. Still chasing after that hope. The adrenaline he feels pumps in his veins and yet he is so out of breath that he needs to stop. His hands resting on his knees as he closes his eyes and tries to get his breathing even.

I have to keep going.

His legs were killing him. They were strained by the sudden rush of exercise and yet he still drags both towards Windrise. He could see the large tree at the horizon, but he was too far away to see if you were there. He continues to pant, steadying his breath, preparing for another burst of energy to run towards where he so desperately hoped you were. What if you weren’t there anymore?

What if he was too late?

What if he never saw you again?

“What if it doesn’t work...?” Albedo asks, pondering over the research and discussing it with you over dinner. He loved to talk about his experiments with you because you gave valuable insights on it, and really listened to him. You smile and give him the confidence that he needs, “Then you can try again, Bedo. You always find a way!”

He’s still panting by the time he reaches the steps leading up to the large tree. His eyes dart around. He circles around in place, wondering if you were around the area. He continues forward, stepping up to the big roots and yet again looked around, trying to spot your familiar tuft of hair/colour.

At the corner of his eye he spots something, behind the big tree. A Crystalfly. It was flying away and his eyes automatically follow it. There was a hand trying to reach out for it, but it barely grazed the Crystalfly’s wings. You stepped out from behind the tree, a little annoyed that you couldn’t catch the Crystalfly.

Albedo feels like he’s frozen in time. He stands there and watches the wind caress your hair. Watches as you tuck your hair back behind your ear. Watches as you turn around and start walking away. He snaps back to reality and moves forward, roots and sticks cracking under his feet as he struggles through the root laden path just to get near you.

You, hearing the disturbance from behind, turn around and was met face to face with the lover you left a few days ago. Something shatters inside you. You weren’t ready for this. You were far from ready to see him again. Why was he out here in the middle of the day? You stood still just as he did in front of you.

You notice how his hair is sticking to his face with sweat. The fast rise and fall of his chest. The pained look in his eyes. The closed up fists on his side. “Y/N--” his voice cracks and tears start to pool in your eyes.

You aren’t strong enough for this and you start to turn away.

Albedo rushes forward to trap you in a hug. His arms so desperately wrapped around you as his head rests on your shoulder. “Don’t,” he pleads. “Please don’t go. Come back with me, please,” there’s a different type of hopelessness in his voice. A moment later tears are streaming down your face.

“I-I can’t Albedo. I--” can’t put myself through that again. I can’t and don’t want to be alone at home all the time.

His body shakes and you realize it’s a sob that wracks his body. Your shoulder is slightly wet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please.” You’ve never seen him cry. Not like this. Not as he clings to you and admits defeat. “I...I couldn’t take care of you--It’s my fault. I know, but--”

“I like Windrise. It’s very relaxing.” You say as the two of you walk around the tree, collecting materials. “Is it?” Albedo responds, stopping momentarily to look up at the tree. “You don’t think so?” you curiously ask your lover. He ponders for a moment before smiling, “I think coming home to you is a lot more relaxing,” at the early stages of your relationship hearing something like that from him would cause you to blush.

You pry his arms away and look up at him. His head is dipped low and you can’t see his face clearly, concealed by his hair. You brush his hair away and lift his head up, and you see how streaks of tears run down his cheeks. You see the sleepless nights in his eyes. The hurt that creases on his forehead. You see what your absence has done to him, and all in one moment, you think that perhaps you were too harsh on him. That you should’ve talked it out instead of leaving so abruptly but you-- “I was hurt...” your lips tremble as you try to explain.

“I try, really hard, to make things easier for you. To care about you. I have never asked for anything grand.” You’re surprised at how level your voice is, despite feeling like you might break down just as he does.

“I’m aware,” Albedo wipes at his face, frustrated at himself. His tears have stopped. You were talking. That must be a good sign. “I don’t--Don’t deserve you,” but he steels himself and places his hands on your cheeks. God how long had it been since he touched you like this? and wipes away the tears that were silently falling from your eyes. “But I’ll take care of you. I’ll prove your worth. I... won’t make the same mistake again,”

And when Albedo said or promised something he was one of the few people that you believed in the most. He was trustworthy all the way, and was true to most of what he said. “You have my word... and if I do make the same error again then... Then you can leave. But right now I--” he moves to rest his forehead against yours, taking in the warmth and love that he had missed. “I’m asking for another chance,” he gulps. “Please,”

You stay quiet for a moment. Assessing the situation. But your eyes close at the closeness the two of you are in right now. There was no doubt that you still loved him. A few days would not change anything. A few days would not ruin the years that you spent together. But you were scared and guarded. You weren’t sure what would happen and if it was worth it. You were scared of being with him and being lonely. “...We... should talk and think a little bit more about this...” you conclude and give your answer, stepping away from him.

Albedo’s face grimaces in distraught, but turns into confusion when you take his hand and tugs on it slightly. “...At home, we can talk about this at home...Is that okay? Let’s go back first,” you would figure it out with him from there.

His head drops and he tries hard not to let tears escape again. He really didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve this kindness but he sure as hell would take it. He would take it and make it right again. He picks his head up and squeezes your hand, voice slightly soft and trembling, and smiles.

“Thank you. That’s perfect,”

and with his hand tight on yours, because he wasn’t letting you go again, the two of you make your way back.

Should I make a part 3 with fluff and write about the aftermath and how Albedo made it up to you? Let me know :D Message me :D Love me <3

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#albedo x reader #albedo #genshin impact #genshin fics #genshin fanfic #genshin fanfics #genshin fanfiction #genshin angst #albedo angst

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peachycoreroo · 3 years

Note

what about some haikyuu boys trying to explain how morning erection works to their s/o? if you could include Kuroo, Sugawara, Oikawa and Satori I'd be more than grateful 🥺

characters: kuroo tetsurou, sugawara koushi, oikawa tooru, tendou satori

genre: smut, a miiiini plot bc i can't control myself

word count: 1.2k

warnings: fem!reader but can be read as gn!reader, also kinda oblivious!reader?, established relationships, the slightest somnophilia (reader is just grinding while oikawa is asleep, he wakes up immediatly tho), handjob, morning wood (obvs), implied sex

authors note: omg this was my first ever request, thank you sm anonnie! i'm so sorry bc i'm pretty sure i got carried away and only kuroo and tendou really fit your request, but i still hope you'll like it<3 this was actually really hard bc i was so anxious about fucking up my first request, i also didn't really know much about morning woods (well now i do heh) and i find tendou kinda hard to write for but i really wanted to make anon happy. i stayed up till 4am for this🧍‍♂️here's a link to my masterlist<3

pt.2: kageyama tobio, haiba lev, hinata shoyo

kuroo tetsurou:

„your dick does what, why now?”

kuroo rolled his eyes. this is the third time he has to repeat himself and you still look at him as if you’ve never heard anything more complicated in your life.

sighing, the tall male leaned back against the headboard of your shared bed, trying to make himself as comfortable as he could, with you finally quenching your curiosity about his morning wood, and said morning wood pressing against his boxers and your sheets.

“one more time, y/n, there’s a number of reasons. first of all, the male body has its peak of testosterone in the morning. basically, the sudden increase of the hormone in the changing stages from being asleep to waking up, can get your guy up.” as he saw you open your mouth to ask a question, he immediately followed with: “yes, even without actually being aroused”, effectively making you shut your mouth again. the fact that he knew exactly what you wanted to ask, made him chuckle. kuroo knew you like the back of his hand.

“another one is that my body is aware of what’s going on, even when i’m asleep. if your ass grazes my dick, it’s gonna react.” grinning proudly, you sat yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

“mhh, i’m glad you can’t resist me, even in your sleep. so… you want some help with that?”

the dark-haired male decided to play along, putting his large hands on your waist, pulling you closer and leaning in, just to stop a few inches from your lips and murmur: “you know, i could also just need to pee really bad”, making you lean back and stare at him dumbfounded.

as much as he wanted to actually teach you about this topic, kuroo would never pass up an opportunity to tease you.

sugawara koushi:

as suga jerked awake, he immediately became aware of his severe case of a morning wood. not only that, but he could also feel your ass pressed up snugly against it.

once the sleep slowly drained from the man’s eyes, he noticed that it was still dark outside and quickly checked the time to see his alarm clock reflecting the numbers 5:50 a.m. back at him. he knew he had to get up at 6 if he wanted to be an exemplary teacher and get to school earlier to prepare for class, but with the way your ass was pushing against his hard dick, his mind was too clouded by lust to care. he needed you, and he needed you now.

“baby, wake up”, in suga’s husky morning voice was the first thing you heard as you were gently stirred awake. when you cracked your eyes open, the silver-haired man was already kneeling between your legs, cock heavy and leaking against your panties.

yawning, you asked concerned: “kou’? what’s wrong? is everything okay?”

not being able to wait any longer, sugawara slowly started grinding against you through your shorts, making your breath hitch and legs spread wider.

“y-yeah, just a morning wood emergency. i can’t go and teach like that. let me use you quickly, princess”, suga almost whined, pained.

trying to hold in your whimpers to understand what led to this, your eyes jumping from the male’s handsome face to his pretty, hard dick, you wondered: “what’s gotten into you?”

at that, suga scoffed, amused at you wanting to know what led to his erection instead of getting to business right away.

“woke up to your pretty lil’ butt all snuggled up against my dick. you make me hard, even in my sleep y/n”, he rasped impatiently, but still wanting to quench your interest.

despite the fact that this was definitely not the most romantic thing you have heard from sugawara koushi, you couldn’t stop the butterflies erupting at the thought of him craving you this badly, even while asleep.

“c’mere kou’”, you softly murmured, pulling him down for a kiss, ready to help your boyfriend’s morning problem.

oikawa tooru:

tonight, wasn’t your night. you barely got a wink of sleep, while your boyfriend slept like a stone beside you. you knew it wasn’t his fault you couldn’t sleep, but that didn’t stop you from sulking like a spoiled child.

you were tired but also incredibly horny, and as if some gods heard the prayers you didn’t even direct at them, you noticed oikawa’s morning erection standing loud and proud under your shared sheets like every morning.

not wasting a moment, you ripped the sheets off him, straddling his lap and grinding your soaked panties against his erect boxer-clad cock. it’s not the worst feeling oikawa has ever woken up to, in fact it was definitely one of the best. everything’s better than being slapped awake by iwa-chan’s shoe hitting him in the face back in high school.

as the tanned man started to fidget and his calloused hands landed on your hips to guide you along his cock, your curiosity about his daily morning wood got the best of you.

“why are you hard every morning, tooru?”, you asked innocently, while not-so-innocently continuing to tease him with your hips.

“u-uh, something about hormones a-and, oh shit, faster babe”, oikawa needily pleaded, not in the mood to be explaining the scientific reason behind his reoccurring morning problem.

unsatisfied with the answer, you stopped the grinding to frown at him and complained: “but i wanna know more, tooru.”

the brunet looked up at you, groaning but knowing you wouldn’t just let it go. “fuck, okay. how about this: you make me cum, and i answer all your questions about… morning woods, after. deal?”

“…deal.”

tendou satori:

you woke up before tendou, feeling his hard-on press against your naked thigh, making you want to continue the fun you had last night.

luckily, your boyfriend also woke up, though not as happy about his morning wood problem as you.

“’tori… i need you”, you seductively purred, letting your petite hand slide down to his erection, wrapping around it and giving it a few slow, lazy pumps. to your surprise, your usually vocal-in-bed boyfriend didn’t moan, but only tensed at your ministrations.

not thinking much of it, you attached your lips to the base of his throat, sucking and licking while giving his cock a hard tuck, hoping to get a pretty moan out of him.

what you didn’t expect however, was for tendou to jump up and run to your bathroom while squealing like a little schoolgirl. dumbfounded, you froze in the position you were in, leaning towards where your boyfriend was laying just a few seconds ago, with your hand in a half-fist.

after a few minutes, the red-haired man sheepishly re-entered the room, scratching the back of his blushing neck with a matching blush on his face.

“i-i uh…”, at his voice cracking, tendou cleared his throat before continuing: “i’m so sorry sweetheart, i didn’t mean to run off like that.”

finally breaking out of your stiffness, you looked at him, puzzled, before asking: “why did you run off? if you didn’t want to make-out, I would’ve understood a simple no.”

“it’s not that! it’s just… morning wood doesn’t always mean i’m horny, sweetie. sometimes it happens when you desperately need to pee.”

“oh”, you awkwardly remarked, “i didn’t know that ‘tori, i’m so sorry. i just thought…”

chuckling, tendou leaned down, kissing your forehead and reassuring you: “don’t worry angel, you never stop learning.”

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Text

nightmares

Includes: Diluc, Kaeya | Anthology

Warnings -> STRONG emotional images (violence, panic, mentions of blood (a lot of blood), implied and specific character death) -> leads to comfort

Synopsis: Nightmares plague the characters sleep and they wake up startled - the reader comforts them

Diluc

The ground beneath his feet felt like putty, with each step he sunk in further, pulled his boots up harder to stay on the surface and not be dragged below it. The rain wouldn’t stop either, which made everything so much worse. What was more unsettling than feeling the pressure of the ground as it clung to his feet was the complete lack of sound. The rain cascaded across the landscape but provided no notice of its presence in any sense other than sight.

In the distance, appeared a carriage, and with labored steps, he headed toward it. When he arrived at its side, he noticed the disheveled state of it. The broken windows above the door, the tattered curtains that hung on the inside now lay plastered against the edge due to the rain. The wheels were shattered and brought the whole thing into the ground, its corners seeping into the mud at the same slow rate of his feet. This all seemed so familiar, and yet, when he tried to understand it, nothing came. He extended his hand to the carriage but before his fingers reached he heard a wild scream from the other side, a shriek, a roar, and the ground beneath him shook.

He took off in the direction of the sound, trees rushing by him, branches slapping against his face, his arms, and when he saw the light grow at the edge of the forest, he burst through without any fear. As he shielded his eyes from the flash of light, he heard a crash, a rumble, and then nothing.

When he dropped his hand back to his side he found himself back at the spot he just left, instead, this time, there was a person standing near the carriage. Their back to him, and bright red hair drenched by the rain.

He called out to them but they didn’t answer. He walked forward, his unsteady movements a result of the slippery mud under his boots. There was a growing hesitancy building in his chest, a loud shouting of his nerves as he got closer and, with an extended hand, he touched the person's shoulder only to wish he hadn’t. A huge gust of darkness spilled from their body, pushing Diluc back, and just as he lifted his head, balanced his weight with outstretched arms another wave of blackness hit him. Between the darkness, a flash of metal flew by his face, he dodged out of the way making his claymore materialize in his hands as he rolled through the sticky mud underneath him. It was a dangerous maneuver, but necessary.

The figure's face was clouded in thick, black smoke and for some time the two of them fought against each other. Diluc’s arms moved on their own, his feet took him to spaces that assisted him in avoiding the strikes from his foe. There was something so familiar about this fight, a familiarity that grew the longer their blades came into contact with one another, the further he pushed them back toward the carriage. It was as if there was a veil between him and this memory he couldn’t quite tear through, like a thin sheet that separated him and the truth. He shoved the enemy back against the carriage and just as his claymore came crashing down across their chest, so too did the veil, which he learned wasn’t a hindrance to his memory, but a blessing.

The body collided into the broken carriage, its back slipping down the side and leaving a trail of red in its wake. Their hands turned a sickly brown as they rested in the mud, painful breaths piercing through the shroud of black which slowly began to lift. Diluc’s shoulder heaved as he looked down at them, and as soon as the blackness faded everything became painfully clear.

“My boy …” His father's voice wheezed, blood spilling from his mouth as he coughed. Diluc couldn’t move, his hands could no longer hold onto the heavy weapon, his legs shook and gave way to the earth below him and as soon as his knees hit, the sound of rain filled his ears.

His eyes drifted over the gaping wound across his father's chest and without hesitation, Diluc moved to stop the bleeding. It seemed there was far too much, a never-ending river of blood which mixed with the dirty earth below and creating some sort of strange sludge that pulled his father deeper and deeper down into.

No matter how hard Diluc dug at the ground, no matter how much he pulled and yanked at his father's arms or tried to stop the bleeding, he gained no progress and painfully, slowly he lost more. The pouring thunder of rain stopped, his father's gaping mouth offered no sound and Diluc looked up at the sky in confusion. A hand gripped his wrist and when he looked back, he saw your face.

He woke up shouting, his heart beating so hard in his chest he wasn’t sure how the muscle was capable of punishing a person's ribs like that. He could feel his hands, his body shaking and he knew, even in the darkness there was so much blood spilling from his fingers.

The room filled with a soft light but he couldn’t look anywhere but at his hands. The same hands that were covered in blood, covered in mud, and unable to grab onto the person in his dreams … who was it? He couldn’t differentiate between you or his father, but it didn’t matter… he wasn’t strong enough to hold onto either of you. Just like that horrible day, he would watch these hands snuff out your light, he’d be the only one at fault for it all.

The thoughts filled his head and drowned out everything else. The screaming, the gasping, the inevitable suffering he would let befall because he just wasn’t strong enough. His eyes were transfixed, unable to move from the hands that shook violently in their view. That’s when he saw yours, the back of them sliding over his palms, fingers wrapping around his wrists. He pulled his hands back so hard his elbows collided with the wooden bed frame and nearly splintered the mahogany.

---

“Diluc …” He looked up, the way his brow furrowed, the burning of his eyes as they stared at you. It was the most painful thing you’d ever see, it broke your heart and as desperately as you wanted to reach back out to him, you knew it wouldn’t help. “Can you hear me?” You asked, daring not to move from the spot next to him.

When you were awoken by his scream you feared for the worse, in a flash you turned on the light, and when you found him shaking, unresponsive to your calls you slipped from the bed and made your way to his side. That’s where you found yourself now, sitting at the edge of the bed, doing your best to be reassuring even as the empathy you felt for him stung your eyes and felt heavy in your chest.

“It was a dream … it was only a dream.” You attempted to comfort him, your head tilting to match his eye line and you watched the shaking of his body move to his head as he silently communicated that it wasn’t. There was no way for you to know what he had seen in his dreams, it was unlikely he would tell you. Looking weak wasn’t something he necessarily liked, even if you told him he was far from that. “You’re breathing so hard; I’ll … uh … go make you something soothing to drink.”

You stood up and once you turned toward the door, your body was pulled backward. Your feet lifted off of the ground, a harsh hand wrapped around your wrist, and as soon as your back hit the bed arms entrapped you. Shifting against the sheets, you tried to look at Diluc but could only see the top of his head, the red hair invading your senses as you breathed him in.

“Dilu…”

“Don’t …” His voice cut you off, the shaky, the uncertainty of it making your heart twist. “Don’t go.” You gave in so easily, how could you not.

“I’ll be right here.” Slipping your arms from his grip you wrapped them around his head and pulled him in even closer. His face pressing against your chest, the softness of his hair brushing against your skin. In this position, you were able to run your fingers through his hair and as you did the grip he had on your body loosened, but only a little. “You’re not alone, I’m not going anywhere. Okay?” He didn’t respond except to give you a quick squeeze and adjust his head so he could rest his cheek against you.

You stayed like this until you sensed the telling signs that he had drifted back to sleep and even past that, you didn’t dare move. Sleep began to take you soon after, your hands slowing their menstruations in his hair, your breathing becoming heavy and as the warmth took you, you swore you heard somebody say, I love you.

Kaeya

The wind seemed different, but Kaeya couldn’t put his finger on it. It was like there was something sinister in the atmosphere, secrets hiding in the breeze, but every time he thought he deciphered it, understood it, the knowledge drifted away from him again.

So, he continued on his way, not paying attention to things that didn’t reveal the truth to him; when the time came he would unravel them.

He was walking through the streets of Mondstadt and, while there seemed to be a growing nervousness building in the pit of his stomach, he made no indication there was anything amiss. Instead, he smiled, waved, and nodded to the citizens who greeted him, even lingered a bit longer than necessary at the lively ones who called his name so lovingly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a few familiar faces and with saddened goodbyes, he made his way over to them.

“Well, this is a surprise.” He said, hand at his hip and smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Oh, captain Kaeya!” Paimon shouted, her spritely figure bobbing up and down as she turned toward him. The traveler turned too, and he was greeted with a welcoming smile. “What are you doing out this early? Is something wrong?” Paimon asked, eyes peering behind him.

“Nothing of the sort, I’m just on my rounds and wanted to say hello.” He closed his eyes and smiled, his reassuring gesture which almost always eased any suspicions of his actions. “What brings the two of you here today?”

“Ah! Well … Paimon was hungry and wanted some … sticky honey roast!” Her head seemed to turn to the location of whatever smell wafted on the wind, a small sliver of drool appearing in the corner of her mouth. Kaeya laughed and just as he was about to make a comment about her glutinous nature, a sudden flash of dead eyes and bloodied face washed over Paimons. It came so quickly and was gone all in a single second.

“Kaeya?” The traveler looked at him and he blinked a few times in an attempt to recollect himself.

He tried to laugh it off, “I’d say I wouldn’t expect this type of behavior from you, but I know that wouldn’t be true.”

“Paimon can’t help it, when good food is calling I will be there to eat it up! Speaking of, I can hear it calling me now!” She was growing impatient and had already floated partway toward her desires cutting the conversation short.

The traveler smiled, hands resting on her hips before turning back to him. His mouth opened to leave her with some snarky comment when again, violent images clouded his eyes. The once white dress of the traveler now stained in red, her eyes empty, hair matted and the flowers which she always wore were wilted and black, a long bloodied slit stretched across her throat.

“Are you okay, you don’t look well.” She questioned, her hand nearly touching his arm, and when the images disappeared he pulled back from her. His feet taking a few hesitant steps backward, his hand reaching to cover the place her fingers grazed.

“I-I’m fine.” He chuckled again, but this time his laugh was much more strained, desperately he tried to find a way to get out of the situation. “I think Paimon’s waiting for you, you wouldn’t want her to eat so much she couldn’t fly now, would you?” He smiled and hoped the traveler wouldn’t notice how his lips trembled.

“Okay, see you later, Kaeya.” She called out to him, as she bounded up the stairs, he was left to his troubling thoughts.

Quickly, he disappeared from their sight and began walking toward the church, maybe he needed to visit the nuns. He must be sick. As he passed by the stalls he saw a few other familiar faces but the images continued to flash between normal and devastating, almost like those toys you peer through to look at vintage images, only instead of beautiful, playful scenes each time he pressed the lever he only saw a new nightmarish image. At some point, they became so overwhelming he found himself staring at the ground in a desperate attempt to avoid anymore.

On the steps leading around the courtyard he ran into Barbara, the exact person he wanted to meet but when he lifted his head to speak to her he started to shake at the sight. Her small frame was twisted and bent, her head turned in an ungodly direction, her eyes staring at her broken hand, blood slipping from her mouth. Her voice spilled from her mouth but it sounded like painful gurgling. He stumbled backward and his feet collided with something, when he looked down he saw the dead body of the acting grandmaster, her hand still gripping tightly onto her sword.

He closed his eyes and when he opened them the images didn’t change. He lifted his hands to his face but stopped when he saw the blood dripping from his fingers. Turning them over and following the spattered blood up to his arm until he noticed the once blue clothes were stained purple. He heard screaming and when he turned to look at the source he saw what looked like a hellish stream of frozen, petrified, slaughtered bodies as far as the eye could see. The small adventurer boy, whose luck never seemed to be on his side, lay draped over the body of the girl who claimed to be a princess. A large purple hat half-frozen in the fountain, the green-haired alchemist slumped against the wall, glass bottles spilling from her bag.

Kaeya’s chest felt so tight he thought he would pass out, he desperately flicked his hands in an attempt to get the blood off of them but it didn’t seem to work. The harder he tried the darker the liquid became and he thought his sanity had all but left him until he heard the sound of clapping from the steps above him.

“Well done.” The voice was as cold as the air on the top of Dragonspine, and just as lifeless. “You’ve proved your worth, my son.” Kaeya turned on his heels but never saw the face of the man who spoke to him.

Kaeya woke up in a cold sweat, he felt his whole body jump all at once, but not enough to thrust him upward. Instead, he lay with his back on the mattress and tried to still his pounding heart, his shaking breaths, licked his chapped lips. He leaned up, sliding his legs out from under the sheets and placing his feet on the cold floor. The sensation felt good, grounding almost as he tried to stop his head from spinning. One hand gripped tightly against the edge of the bed while the other wiped at the sweat that formed on his brow. He ran his fingers through his long hair, doing his best to pull the strands away from his face as he looked down at his bouncing legs.

A light turned on and he stills, his body freezing at the illumination. “Kaeya?” You mumbled, voice still heavy from sleep, a soft hum sounds from behind him and he felt the bed shift as you turned toward him.

“It’s nothing, go back to sleep.” He pushed through his dry throat, he just now realized how thirsty he had become.

“Are you sure? You were whining in your sleep.” The realization of that stung his pride, and he couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing again. Of course, he tried to play it off.

“Oh, spying on me while I’m sleeping were you. I didn’t know you were such a deviant.” He joked, but he could tell it didn’t have as much of a punch as it normally did. It didn’t matter, you just kept on as if he didn’t make the joke to begin with.

“Whatever you were dreaming didn’t seem enjoyable.” Without him knowing, you had slid your way to him, arms wrapping around his cold skin, hands against his chest, and chin resting against his shoulder. You squeezed tighter around him and whispered, “you’re shaking.”

Somehow, you saw right through him, you always did. From the moment he met you, you had this uncanny ability to look completely at him, never missing a single sign. “It was just a bad dream.” He let the honesty fall onto his legs, the words drifted into the darkness that spread out from underneath the bed.

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t real. It was just a dream.”

“You’re right, it was just a dream.” He turned his body and slid his hand around your waist until it rested against your back. With a soft kiss, he placed his lips against your forehead, against the tip of your nose, and on your chin relishing in the way your eyes fluttered closed and skin warmed to his gesture. “Let’s get back to sleep, shall we.”

“We can talk about it if you’d like.” You attempt and he uses it as an opportunity to tell you some silly little lie about the nightmare he most definitely did not have. When the two of you settled back into the bed and he ushered you onto this chest so he could breathe in your smell, feel the pressure of your torso on his chest and hear the slow sound of your breath, he finally lets his mind wander back to the real dream which would haunt him for weeks.

It was just a dream … He recalls your comment and wonders if what you said was true.

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #diluc X reader #diluc #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact diluc #kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #genshin impact kaeya #genshin imagines #genshin narratives #genshin impact narratives

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demonsandco · 3 years

Note

I just saw you don't have anything with Barbatos, this is a crime /j /lh

So could I please request A, C, D, F, K, M, P, V and W from the smut alphabet with him? I know it's a lot, so please feel free to just pick the ones you want to do if it's too much!! I love your writing by the way, thank you for sharing it with us and I hope you have a wonderful day💖

Aaa thank you! I’m glad you enjoy my stuff!! I’m still a little unsure on how I want to portray Barb (considering he has such little screen time smh), but you cannot tell me this man isn’t secretly a slut (affectionate)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

As with everything, Barbatos’ first instinct after sex is to take care of his partner in any way he can. He’ll want to run them a bath, get them something to drink, and if it’s not too late he may even offer to make them a light snack, all the while completely ignoring his own needs. He wants to feel useful and productive, unused to properly relaxing or taking a break. Even if his muscles feel like jelly and his legs tremble with every step, he’ll still focus all his energy on serving them. Luckily, with how exhausted he tends to feel right after sex, it’s not too hard for them to convince him to just cuddle up and rest for once, their encouragement being more than enough to convince him to indulge for once.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As much as Barb isn’t a fan of messiness, there's something about cumming on his partner that he finds immensely pleasing, being able to claim them in a primal way, without having to worry about lasting marks. He especially loves cumming all over their hands, watching it drip down to their wrists. He has no shame in cleaning it up for them, either, bringing their dirtied hands to his mouth and running his tongue over their palms, diligently sucking each finger clean individually, all while making direct eye contact with a lewd look on his face.

(cont under the cut)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

With how intensely private Barbatos is, the fact that he has an active sex life, or experience in general, could be a dirty secret on it’s own. Many believe that he’s married to his job, and even those that are close to him, rarely hear about the more private partners of his life. It’s not that he purposefully keeps his relationship a secret, but rather he just tends to blend into the background and he hardly ever feels the need to talk about himself. The amount of passion he has in the bedroom is surprising to say the least, considering how he carries himself in public.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Barbatos greatly enjoys stress positions, especially ones that involve restraints. His favorite would have to be kneeling, legs spread with his ankles tied to his thighs and his hands tied behind his back, forcing his spine to arch and leaving him exposed and helpless to his partner’s every whim. He knows that it’s rather out of the ordinary, and he definitely doesn’t expect every night with his partner to involve something like that, but he can’t help but crave the thrill that comes with that position, unable to move and not having to think, only having to hold still and letting them use his body as they wish.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Unsurprisingly, one of Barb's favorite kinks is bondage, either with ropes or delicate ribbons. It’s cathartic in a way, both tying up his partner and being restrained himself. He finds himself drawn to intricate knot patterns especially, enjoying the artistry and skill that comes with it. He could spend hours restraining them in an artful manner without getting tired of it. He’s even more fond of having them do the same to him, knowing that they put time and effort into learning different patterns for him, not being able to do anything but hold still as their hands slide over his body in such an intimate way. Every shift of his muscles or hitch of his breath causes the bonds to bite into his skin, pressing tightly in his most sensitive areas.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Despite having a fairly high libido, it’s actually incredibly difficult to turn Barbatos on without being outright sexual. He has an impressive amount of control, especially when he’s working, and no amount of flirtatious touches or whispered promises are enough to shatter his composure. If his partner really wants to have an effect on him, they need to be bold and direct.

The easiest way to do so is to follow him somewhere private, like an empty hallway or the kitchen, and be physical. Grab his hips and press up against his back, pin him against a wall or counter with their thigh between his legs, or pull him down for a kiss while tugging on his hair. They need to be quick, taking too much time will make him rush back to work and ruin their element of surprise, but the sudden affection is enough to steal his breath and leave him aching for more. Once they’ve managed to break his control, though, they’d better be prepared to not get much sleep that night, because he’ll be eager to follow through with their advances the moment he finishes his work for the day.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Barbatos tends to prefer a slower, passionate pace, every movement calculated and controlled to bring a specific amount of pleasure to his partner. It isn’t often that he has time to spare, so when he does, he wants to savor every moment he gets to spend with them, taking his time with their body and indulging his greedy side. He loves how desperate it makes them, his movements so slow that it’s practically torture, highly pleasurable, but just barely not enough to cum. He’ll drag on the moment for as long as he can, because he knows it’ll be a while before he can do it again.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Barbatos is naturally very quiet, his voice soft and soothing. He doesn’t speak much during sex, and when he does, his words are barely more than a whisper. At first, he’s completely silent, purposefully stifling his noises out of embarrassment, but even when he lets go, he never really gets loud. Most of his noises sound like gasps, and even his rarely heard moans are extremely breathy and desperate, much higher in tone than his regular voice. He has a habit of trying to muffle himself if he feels he’s getting too noisy, hiding his face in bed sheets or pillows and biting into the material, or bringing his hands up to his face to bite his knuckles, attempting to regain control of his voice.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Unlike most demons, Barbatos’ horns are actually very sensitive, to the point where the slightest touch is enough to send shivers down his spine. The little skeletal appendages function more like feelers or antennae, rather than weapons. While he’s distracted, they often move without him realising, shifting with his emotions and acting as an easy way for his partner to tell when he’s really enjoying something.

His tail isn’t anywhere near as sensitive, but it’s certainly a fun addition to the bedroom. He has very precise control of it, being able to move both tips independently with precision. It basically self lubricates, too, having a strange wet, almost gloopy and slippery texture, without ever leaving behind any residue to clean up. He’d be more than happy to use it on his partner, or himself, and show them exactly how skilled he is in controlling its movements.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me barbatos #obey me smut #smut alphabet #lime time

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shoutogepi · 3 years

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Entertainment

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 5.3k

[ ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw 18+!) ] angst, smut

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : Much to your chagrin, you realize you have feelings for your explosive coworker with benefits... (continuation of FYIJM/Orange Lambo)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : ahaha whaaa i bet you had thought this series was abandoned! well, surprise update. i realized the other day that i hadn’t updated this series in a year oops so... have this haha. for those of you who foresaw the angst... great job hehe. also please beware this is unedited... and for that i apologize~

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : once again, reader is meant to be a fellow pro hero working at the same agency as Bakugou! so Y/H/N is meant to be read as “your hero name”.

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─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄳ark shadows stretch along the tiled floor of the office, cast by the bright moon hanging high and proud in the sky. The fumes from the bustling city are strong challengers to the magnificent orb of light, but they only succeed in swallowing the stars twinkling across the planes of the sky— for the moon beams through them and illuminates the tears glittering down your cheeks.

Bakugou’s hand is firm around your throat as he presses your form against the glass of the floor-length window, your nipples dragging along the chilled surface. You sob in pleasure as his hips dig into your ass, his cock plunging into you. As soon as your mouth opens, his palm slides to cup around your cheek, shoving two thick fingers between your teeth and pressing down against the back of your tongue as far as they can reach. His movements are rough and ravenous, and flush with desire.

Just how you like it.

And he knows it.

Your teeth clamp around the digits and Bakugou releases an angry moan, hooking the fingers around your teeth and throwing your head to the side. “Fuckin brat,” he snarls, his other arm tightening around your stomach to press your back snug against his sturdy chest. “You’re gonna pay for bein’ bad, slut.”

His hips begin to slap mercilessly into you, his hard cock smashing deep into your core, again and again. Your disobedience withers as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure, body melting from his touch to curl into the curves of his instruction. Spine arching and feet sliding apart to welcome him even deeper inside, Bakugou grins at how easily you're broken, his hand leaving your waist to clap against your ass.

A moan decorates the glass with frosted white as you shuffle forward from the spank. Somehow his name tumbles from your lips in a winded cry, and his teeth sink into your neck as his growl vibrates across your heated skin. Your pussy clenches down on his thick length, and he moans even louder into your neck. His palm plants tiny explosions onto your ass as he slaps you another time, only prospering further as you clamp onto him again. “Fuck, you’re tight for a slut, y’know that?” He groans, tongue flicking along the fresh indents of his teeth on your throat.

“If anyone’s the slut here—“ you gasp as his fingers finally move out of your mouth to snag around your neck again. He squeezes the sides of your throat, daring you to finish your sentence. But you’ve already started your counter, and you aren’t backing down now. “— it’s you.”

Even if you had managed to snag a final breath as you finish talking, it’s stolen from you when a feral Bakugou roars behind you, ripping you from the glass and pivoting to shove you across the surface of his tidy desk. You whimper as his cock drags along your slick walls, his balls beginning to slap into your clit mercilessly and sending tingles through your skeleton. You swear and he laughs harshly, both hands gripping onto your hips as he hammers you into the desk. “I’m the slut?” He parrots, giving your non-reddened ass cheek a hard blow with his explosive palm. “When you’re the one who’s begging for me to fuck this sloppy little cunt? Look how wet you are,” he comments, a thumb trailing over your ass to touch the excess slick at the base of his cock. “Shit,” he grumbles as he moves the digit over your ass, dipping into your puckered hole easily with plethoric lubrication.

You whine at the stimulation, his thumb diving into you and rubbing inside. “Katsuki, a-ahh,” you gasp as his hips begin to pick up the pace again, an expletive falling from your lips after a moan.

“Y’like that, hah? See, you can’t even prove your case, Princess,” he chuckles, rolling his hips to grind against your sensitive walls. The action makes a purr of pleasure rumble from your throat, back bowing to offer your ass to him even further, meeting his circling hips. Your submission only spurs him on, his hands pushing your hips back into his in perfect synchronization. “Whose pussy is this?”

The question falls from his lips without thought, and his vermillion eyes widen as he realizes his mistake. Yet what horrifies him is that you don’t pause— you don’t even stray from your perfect speed to match his hips, not even a second out of line— you moan, and reply to him eagerly, “Yours, Katsuki— yours!”

And even though terror floods past the dam he’d so carefully constructed around his heart, his body crumbles at your answer, the spring in his stomach compressing as he nearly cums right there and then. He wants to choke out that he’s close, but somehow he croaks out a command instead. “Then cum for me. Cum on my cock— fuck...”

In your haze of lust you don’t notice how soft his voice has become. You let yourself topple over the edge, pussy squeezing him tight as your orgasm washes over your body. It’s sinfully encaptivating; a tiny morsel of what you can only imagine heaven must feel like. Bliss crashes through you like heavy tides on a rocky sea wall, drenching you completely in sweet, refreshing euphoria.

Bakugou’s tempo is swift and hard, but he relents after a few seconds with the way you milk him like a vise. He gasps as he nearly cums inside you, pulling out at the very last second and painting your back white with his load. He groans as his fist jerks around his cock, head thrown back in ecstasy as he empties his balls onto the canvas of your moonlit skin.

It’s quiet, save for the cocktail of ragged breaths huffing from the pair of you— coming down from your highs and minds clearing of the lust that so easily had dominated you just moments ago. Bakugou falls back into his desk chair, free hand opening a drawer to grab a package of wet wipes. He snags a sheet from the container, hissing as the cool wipe slides along his aching cock. A second towelette glides down the expanse of your spine as he cleanses you of his release, and you hum as he drags the other side of the cloth between your thighs with care.

Cautiously you crawl off his desk, legs twitching as tiny, lingering shocks from your orgasm zip along your limbs. As the lascivious fog begins to clear, the air in the room becoming still and laden with perspiration from your passionate session, your stomach begins to turn. Your brain begins to work again, your heart seizing in your chest as you watch Bakugou tug up his pants. No part of you wants to follow his actions, and yet your body moves on its own, fingertips dragging your leotard up your legs. It’s his office you’re in this time— and he clearly wants you to leave if he’s dressing this quickly.

Bakugou doesn’t say a word, red eyes flicking over your hurried figure. He frowns, though that’s not unusual for him, and swallows back the lump in his throat. Would you stay if he asked you to? The answer surely must be no, and he growls at the thought of fucking this up— whatever this is— by asking stupid questions. What you said was in the heat of the moment, prompted by him himself; certainly you were just desperate to cum, desperate for your high. And yet he can’t stop himself from calling out to you just as you’re about to slip around the corner of his office door.

Bakugou looks just as surprised as you when your name slips from his lips. You stand there in the middle of the doorway, frozen with your doe eyes glued to him expectantly. He doesn’t know what to do— what to say— but somehow he manages to speak. “Grab your stuff and meet me in the garage in five.”

He wants to slap himself. Did he really say that?

You’re stunned, frozen to the spot and blinking at him blankly. Your lips part to respond to him, and yet nothing comes out. All other words failing you, the only thing you can think to say is—

“Okay!”

You blurt out like a buffoon, turning on your heel and making your escape down the hallway, away from the intensity of his gaze. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you try with all your might to squash down the giddy butterflies bursting in your stomach. Logically, it would be sound to assume he’s just taking you to your apartment. It’s late, and the city is dark and filled with all kinds of characters— not like you’re a fellow pro-hero who can protect yourself of anything.

You try your hardest not to let your imagination wander as you’re packing away a few folders from the safety of your office, but you just can’t help the warmth that rises to your cheeks. Perhaps he’s taking you somewhere else? But then again, at this hour, the only other place he could really be taking you is… his place.

No. No way that could be possible. Just— no! You shake your head, smoothing down the skin-tight material of your hero suit before grabbing your bag, jacket thrown over your shoulder as you rush to the elevator.

Bakugou is already in the garage, leaning against his sleek, orange sports-car with something akin to a grimace marring his handsome face. At the sight of you exiting the elevator doors, he pushes himself upright, bulging biceps uncrossing as he makes his way toward the driver’s side of the vehicle. “You sure take your time, Princess,” he comments, vermillion eyes twinkling with snarkiness. “No wonder you’re always playing catch-up on the agency leaderboard.”

Just like that, he’s back to being Bakugou.

“Playing mean to cover up being decent for once?” You retort as you swing the passenger door open, slinging your bag onto the ground before your legs follow, ass meeting the expensive leather seat.

All he gives you is a classic tch, in true Bakugou fashion, before the engine roars to life. You give him your address before he can ask, and he responds with a grunt before he shifts the vehicle into drive. The noise echoes off the cement walls of the garage, and the car’s purring continues as it exits the building. The lacquer shines glossy in the moonlight— the very same moonlight that had kissed your lewd face just ten minutes ago as the man beside you had ravaged you. The recollection makes your eyes move away from the blonde, instead opting to focus on the very interesting interior of the door.

The drive is quick and void of sound, save for the howl of the wind pouring in from the cracked windows. There’s no music, and no conversation, but still, you can’t help the content blooming in your chest. This is the first time that Bakugou has offered to drive you home. Well, besides that one incident that happened a few weeks ago when he took you to that park and… took you for a ride, so to speak. And in this very vehicle. The memory makes your heart race, your teeth taking your bottom lip prisoner.

In no time, you’re pulling up in front of your apartment complex, and your breath hitches as the car comes to a stop. The air is heavy and full of tension, and you can’t help but steal a glance over at Bakugou. The blonde is sitting rigid in his seat, brow furrowed and frown evident on his lips. His hands are wound tight around the steering wheel, and it takes a moment for him to face you directly.

Before you can make a word— a sound, even— Bakugou’s hand cups your face. His touch is gentle, patient as he brings your face to his. When your lips meet, a whimper crawls from your throat. His mouth is warm, movements cautious as his lips brush against yours. The sweet, smoky, caramel-like smell of him twists around your senses, and you lean into his touch, enamored.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced with him...

And it’s over immediately.

Bakugou moves backwards, crimson eyes wide and watchful, wary of your every move. Your lips are still parted, and you blink at him as you take in his retreating face, dazed. There’s a pregnant pause as you take each other in, your fingers going to brush your lips in shock. His eyes trail over your lips before he looks at you again. Maybe you’re just imagining it, but there’s something in his gaze that looks a lot like longing.

“Goodnight, Princess.”

His deep voice rumbles in his throat, and goosebumps rise along your skin as his saccharine choice of words sinks in. Your brow furrows as you soak it in, lips parted but no sound coming out.

The look you give him is inquisitive.

But Bakugou only sees it as accusatory.

His demeanor hardens by the second— the brief softness that had just been exposed fleeting fast as his arms cross over his chest. “You gonna sit there all night, dumbass?” He hisses, beautiful red orbs turning into slits.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, reaching out to him. It’s the only thing that your body allows you to say, shellshocked at the vulnerability you’d just seen from him— a revelation as impressive as if you had discovered a new species.

Bakugou only glares at your outstretched fingers, jamming his finger into the side of the door to unlock your own. “Just get out,” he orders. And somehow seeing you flinch at his words, watching as the hurt flashes on your face for just a moment— it spurs him on. “I got someplace to be already.”

With a tight chest, you push your door open, grabbing your bag and casting one last, furtive glance at the explosive man. But his eyes are only on the steering wheel, so you sigh and pick up your jacket from the seat. “Goodnight, Boom-Boy,” you murmur as you retreat from the vehicle, allowing the door to shut.

Little do you know, his gaze follows you until your figure disappears through the heavy doors of the foyer, leaving him alone to the torments of his self-loathing and frustration.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

Unsurprisingly, you don’t have a great night of sleep. You toss and turn in your sheets, rewinding and replaying every second of interaction in his outrageously-expensive car. Overthinking every word, every pause, every look. All he had wished you was an honest “goodnight”, so why did it feel like there was so much more?

This had been the first time you’d caught a glimpse of what lies beneath the hard, spiny exterior of the man, and yet, it had been but a speck of dust in the wind. You’d seen it for one second. One exhilarating, butterfly-inducing second, and then— it was gone. Vanished. By the time you’d gotten your bearings, it seemed like the man’s shell was even spikier— more abrasive than even his explosive locks, and far more capable of hurting you.

And perhaps you were a little hurt— you mean to say, you are. But that makes you question if you’re just picking up signals that he’s not even aware he’s sending. You’re second-guessing yourself in every sense at this point. All over one kiss, and one “goodnight”.

But it wasn’t just a “goodnight”. It was a “goodnight, princess”. As if that would make such a difference.

A part of you, probably the majority, to be honest, is being rational about this. The two of you haven’t really spoken much about your… relationship, if you even dare to call it that. One evening it had just sort of… happened, and since then, it’s been happening, without much pause. For months, this has been going on. And it was great, at first. The two of you were in exactly the same boat: pro hero, no time for a committed relationship— nor a want for a committed relationship, pent-up and needing some kind of release… and oh, there’s also that white-hot tension that pulls the two of you together every time you see each other. That intensity, that passion, rivalry, and desire— it’s no wonder the pair of you ended up in this seemingly-eternal rendezvous. It’s clear what you both want, what you need— it’s sex.

It’s just sex.

But of course, there’s this small part of you— well, maybe it’s larger than you’d like to admit— that hopes he feels something… more. That he could possibly want you, for more than your body. When you think about it like that, it sounds stupid, like you’re some lovesick preteen who fantasizes about the captain of the football team of something. Reality isn’t really that far though— instead, you’re a fool of an adult who fantasizes about snuggling with her sworn rival-slash-coworker.

Acknowledging it like that sounds rather pathetic, you know... yet you just don’t have the strength in you to squash that ember of hope burning bright in your heart. You don’t want to watch it extinguish, you don’t want to lose that— lose him.

Yet at the same time, you know you can’t keep doing this. Your despicable feelings for the hero only seem to be growing by the day, and you need to cut this thing off sooner rather than later if he’s not on the same page as you.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

Somehow you find yourself at the door of his office, the bright sunlight of the early afternoon streaming in through the hallway windows and warming your skin. It’s shut, as usual, and it gives you the opportunity to take a deep breath before your fingers find courage to curl into a fist, and tap against the hardwood.

“Come in.” His tone is gruff and curt as always, and you quickly fix your hair before you turn the handle, slipping inside the room and letting the door shut with a quiet click.

Bakugou is sitting behind his desk, an open bento-box and a half-filled form on his tablet laying before his hulking frame. Slitted vermillion eyes land on you, quickly morphing into a curious, cautious gaze.

“Y/N,” he greets, a blonde brow rising to land higher than usual on the tan skin of his forehead. The mask of his hero suit sits limply in the corner of his desk, his handsome face on display for you to drink in.

Your eyes flicker all over him, gliding along his broad shoulders, tracing the lines of the firm muscles on his chest. You can’t help but check him out, knowing fully well what’s underneath that tight suit of his. Bakugou smirks at you, taking his time to inspect you just the same.

“I need to talk to you,” you say, the words spilling from you without much of a thought.

After a tense pause, the hero stands, capping his lunch and making his way around his desk to sit on the front of it. He motions for you to come to him, and your feet move instinctively forward, following his command as you’d done so many times before.

As soon as you’re within arm’s reach, he pulls you to him, and stands you between his legs. Even sitting perched on his desk, he’s still taller than you, and he leans his nose into your neck as his hands glide along your spine. “Yeah?” he purrs, fingers splaying to drag against your skin through your thin hero suit. “And what do we need to talk about, Princess?” His lips flutter on the flushed skin of your neck, taking the hem between his teeth and pulling it back to reveal the darkened evidence of your latest session. Seeing his mark on you excites him, and the heat from his palms bleeds through your suit into your skin.

You can’t help but lean into his caress. His sharp cologne mixes with the honeyed, sugary scent of his skin and envelops you whole, pulling you in like a riptide lurking beneath an innocuous wave. A fragment of a moan escapes you when his mouth lands on the skin at the base of your neck, sucking gently and laving his tongue along your flesh.

“S’a little early to be foolin’ around,” he admonishes teasingly, voice deep and like thunder in your ears, an omen of the approaching storm. But your body wants it— craves the heavy deluge and the fear of scorching lightning that might just strike along your skin. “You like the thought of gettin’ caught, hah?” Bakugou chuckles lowly, teeth grazing your jaw. “Dirty little girl…”

Your palms glide down his thick arms, lamely stiff as your mind is screaming at you to stop— that this isn’t what you came for. Yet his touch makes you woozy, your judgement clouded as you choke on a wanton moan. “N-No, Katsuki,” you whine, fingers curling into his shirt to steady yourself.

“No?” He moves back, an ash-blonde brow rising in mock. “You’re not a dirty girl? Hmm, my memory’s pretty good, Princess, and I’m recalling some pretty irrefutable evidence that’d suggest otherwise.”

His hands slide down to cup your ass, thick fingers crawling between your thighs and prying at your flesh. He fingers over your covered slit, grin widening as you stiffen in his hold, a moan lingering in your mouth.

“No, I meant… I mean, I actually want to talk,” you sigh as you step backwards, away from his muscular body. You move far back enough for his hands to drop from your figure, your arms crossing over your chest defensively as you look toward the ground.

Bakugou seems confused by your refusal, but he clears his throat and adjusts his pants before he shrugs, attempting to appear nonchalant. “Okay…” he sits up slightly, still half-sitting on the ledge of his desk.

There’s an awkward, heavy silence between the two of you as he waits for you to talk. You know he’s waiting, but with every second that passes, the pressure in the room intensifies and makes it more and more daunting for you to speak.

“Do you like me?”

Bakugou’s expression stays guarded, the only indication that he heard you being a raised, unimpressed brow. “Hah?”

You swallow, even though your throat is drier than ever. He’s really going to make this harder than it has to be, isn’t he? But you’ve already prepared to deal with him, in all respects, here and now. “I mean— what is this to you?”

He seems a little flustered now, his eyes darting away from you as his cheeks pinken just a shade. Letting out a scoff, he growls, “I don’t know what you mean by… this.”

His playing dumb doesn’t appease you— in fact, it infuriates you. How dare he act like there’s nothing to discuss between you two?! You’ve indulged this man with vigorous extra-curricular activities for months at this point, and he has the audacity to think he can give you the go-around?

“Fuck off Bakugou, you know what I mean.”

“Oi oi oi,” he moves his big hands, patting air toward you condescendingly. “Let’s not get all upset in the middle of the day. We can talk about this later.”

Bakugou can see immediately that he’s said the wrong thing. Your face screws up and your inquisitive gaze becomes a glare, squaring your stance and your arms sliding uncrossed so you can park your hands on your hips.

“No, fuck that, we’re talking about this now!”

Seeing you pissed off must’ve pissed him off too, because now he stands upright and his menacing gaze burns down on you. “What’s there to talk about? I thought the whole point of it all was to not have to talk about jack shit.”

“Well this isn’t just jack shit!” you snarl, frustration building at how thick of a skull this man has. God, you admire whatever hell of a woman pushed his fatass head out of the womb. “We need to establish what this thing is so we can act like adults for fucking once in our lives! We work together, for fuck’s sake, we need to be responsible about this!”

“Hah?” Bakugou seems more agitated than before, his lip curling as he brandishes his signature sneer. “We’re fucking around, shitty woman, isn’t that the most adult activity we can do?” As if he hasn’t lit your fuse enough, he throws up some patronizing finger quotes when he emphasizes the word.

“So that’s what we’re doing, Bakugou? For months, we’ve just been,” you squint at him, only serving to amplify your unrelenting glare as you throw some aggressive finger quotes back at the man in front of you, “fucking around? Making eyes at each other across the conference table, and spending our nights together, just ‘cuz?”

Bakugou growls in irritation, swiping a large hand over his face from top to bottom as he hisses out profanities. He mutters something under his breath, clearly not wanting to deal with the conversation you’re forcing on him right now.

After waiting for his response for a moment but only receiving radio silence, you continue. “I’m a person, Bakugou, and in case you haven’t noticed, so are you! You can’t just ignore your feelings and act like no one and nothing matters to you!”

“Feelings?!” he shouts with contempt burning in his scarlet eyes, as if some atrocious, vile flavor gushes onto his tongue merely from uttering the word. “Oi, the fuck do you get off talking about my feelings? You don’t know shit about me, Y/H/N.”

His use of your professional hero name makes you bristle in fury, anger flaring and rationality fleeting. Everything’s escalating too fast— this isn’t the way you wanted this conversation to go. Your heart leaping into your throat, you muster the courage to change the tides, to tell him how much you want him. “Fuck you Katsuki, I know you have feelings for me! Because I—”

“I don’t have fuckin’ feelings for you!”

An arrow to the heart— the first sign of damage appears on the thumping muscle in your chest. But still, you continue, too stubborn to back down at this point. “Oh really, Boom-Boy? Then why the fuck are you still here, stuck in this godforsaken tryst with me? What am I to you, huh?”

Your stupid nickname for him makes his fists clench, steam nearly visibly blowing from his ears. “I’m not fuckin’ stuck! You— You’re just—” he buffers, rage still broiling in his gaze as he tries to come up with the most fitting word. But he doesn’t have much time— you’re glaring him down with your hands on your hips, cornering him against his desk and he yells out the first word that comes to mind.

“— entertainment.”

…

The tension in the air thickens noticeably, and you put all your effort into forcing your face not to reveal the hurt that pours into your bones. So this is what it feels like to put your heart on your sleeve… it fucking sucks.

Bakugou seems just as surprised as you are, maybe even more— his jaw hangs open cartoonishly and those red eyes are fixed on you, no longer harsh slits but wide, round orbs.

No matter how hard you try not to show your true emotions, he can clearly see that his words have stung you. The silence that fills the growing void between you two is deafening, weighing down his body as if he’s drowning in his immediate regret. But he doesn’t say anything, he can’t— you’d poked and prodded the sleeping bear of his ego and what he’d said couldn’t just be brushed under the rug and overlooked.

Entertainment. You’re nothing more than that to him. Why did you ever think you could penetrate through the booby-trapped walls around this man’s heart? Of course he didn’t want you for anything other than your body. Of course he didn’t.

For that one moment, you let him see it. You don’t hide the pain that washes over you, and you look him straight in the eye.

Bakugou stifles, throat tightening as he examines your crushed expression. He feels like he’s trapped, a fly that’s landed on a sticky trap that he can’t escape, a sinking feeling weighing down his chest, screaming at him to do something— say something— anything to mitigate the wound he’d just blasted onto your heart. “Y/N…”

And just like that your defenses come back online. He watches as you square yourself off, the soft vulnerability you’d revealed disappearing as your eyes became vacant of emotion. If anything, it looks like understanding, and it squeezes Bakugou’s chest like you’ve pulled a string tight around his lungs.

“Okay,” you murmur, your voice calm and low.

Bakugou is frozen, body unwilling to suck it up and take back the word even though his heart is so desperately screaming at him to do so. But he just can’t, he can’t take it back because then he’d have to admit it was a lie he only threw out in an attempt to save his own feelings from getting hurt. If only he knew that causing your pain would hurt a thousand times more.

You clear your throat awkwardly, taking a step back from him. Gaze dropping to the floor, your arms come out to cross atop your chest, a makeshift shield for your battered resolve. “I don’t think we should do this anymore,” you whisper, but Bakugou hears it clear as day. He can’t breathe— he’s stuck to his spot as if that damn Icyhot bastard had frozen him himself. “I just… I've worked too hard for my career to be derailed by... whatever this was…”

Somehow Bakugou nods, even though he doesn’t want to. His body moves on its own, on autopilot, as his own arms cross over his chest, and he sits back down on top of his desk. He’s still looking at you, chest heavy with bated breath.

“If the public were to find out about us fucking around, that would become my reputation as a hero, and… I just— I can’t, Katsuki.”

Your voice trembles as you whisper his name, and Bakugou’s heart feels like it’s being stabbed over and over again.

“From now on, we’re just Ground Zero and Y/H/N, okay? Back to normal…” you smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Not at all.

Bakugou finally gets some control of his body, lips parting as he desperately searches for the right words that could somehow reverse this mess. All that comes out is a rough “Fine.” He cringes, frustration with himself building now more than ever. What’s wrong with him? That’s the opposite of what he wants, why can’t he say anything?!

You avert your eyes once more, turning to leave. Halfway through the door, you look back at him and pause. “See you around, Boom-Boy,” you breathe, the click of the door following, and leaving Bakugou to sink into his own self-loathing and regret.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

AWAA so reader and blasty have finally realized their feelings for one another... unfortunately this is a bakugou fic so of course he sucks at communication. i’m sorry if he’s ooc, as i said in my notes i havent written for him in a year lmao RIP. anyways i intend to make a fourth and final part with the resolution sooo i hope that i will have enough motivation to make that happen soon!

as always please let me know if you enjoyed! <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou fic #mha x reader #mha smut #mha fic #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha fic #bakugo smut #bakugo fic #bakugo x reader #idk man i suck at tags

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dorimena · 3 years

Text

𝕷𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖐𝖊

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.4k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, lingerie, sex toy (vibrating butt plug), implied edging, implied overstimulation, pegging, mommy kink, dacryphilia, dom!reader, sub!reader

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; garterbelt, dry orgasms, didn’t know lima bean respect day existed, if you haven't realized i refer to reader's dick as cock whether flesh or silicone, implied aftercare, aged up character, Bakugou is in his 20s

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; late gift for the birthday boy who i haven’t written anything about until now. It was supposed to come out as a small fic, but University kept getting in the way and I’ve fallen behind with some pendant writings. Guess this is my first headcanon thing. Not proofread!

April 20th could mean anything for a lot of people:

In the US, it’s National Pineapple Upside Down Cake Day.

Also in the US, it’s National Lima Bean Respect Day.

Internationally, for the weed lovers, it’s 420 Day.

But April 20th simply means it’s your boyfriend’s birthday.

Bakugou had been hinting about wanting a small surprise for a while, whether big or small

And by hinting, I mean downright telling you every breakfast, lunch and dinner spent possible throughout March that he wants something from you, but doesn’t want to know what

If you were Mina, you would’ve thrown a party at some lowkey club and hired one of the best DJs in the city, if not the country

If you were Kirishima, you would’ve taken him hiking to a new mountain someplace else in Japan + a weekend glamping getaway

If you were Sero, you would’ve gone to do something relaxing, maybe a spa? Aerial yoga? Definitely not to just see his ass in some yoga pants

If you were Kaminari-

Well, that’s actually an interesting thought… What would you have done if you were Kaminari?

Bakugou wearing a black, see-through thong, the most sensual looking lace garterbelt you could find in his size and a pretty black bow sitting on his ass is what you managed to come up with

Sure. At first he was ready to fight, but then he remembered who you were so obedient baby boy mode was activated without any more fuss. That, and his fucking fantasies.

He’s also been fantasizing for the past few weeks leading up to his birthday about how you’d probably ride him. Maybe fuck him? He doesn’t care, just wants to be babied and loved and fucked good until he passes out to wake up a week later.

Maybe not, he still has work to do

Another reason he put up with this is because, y’know, you tend to be nicer on special days so-

Bakugou wearing a garterbelt makes you feel so many levels of horny in a span of 30 seconds once you see it on him. It accentuates his already envious waist line even more. God, you can’t wait to see him bent over and ass up.

So you tell him gently to do so from where you’re sitting, and he does it so prettily.

Reminds you of a graceful cat, the way he turns around on the bed, chest already down onto the bed sheets as he pulls his torso as close to his knees as possible. Juicy ass is as high as it could be and wow, the thong doesn’t do a good work at hiding the glimmer of the diamond butt plug.

Pity it didn’t come in any other color than white, but it came with the lingerie.

You didn’t even warn him when you turn the butt plug on.

The promised low setting already sounding pretty loud, his small huffs indicating it’s not as overwhelming yet.

Good.

But by now, you’ve left it on for a good while, watching as he tries not to lose his balance or shuffle too much to ‘lose the appeal’.

He’s cursing at you in airy moans, vermillion eyes glaring at you. Why are you teasing him? You’re meant to be nice.

It’s his fucking birthday

You’d punish him for his impatience, but you already punished him the day before.

You don’t want him not being fucked in the ass so you turn the vibrator up to the last setting, smiling sweetly as he curses even louder

This is still punishing but nice, right?

He seems to agree

His arms are restless, moving from staying beside him to moving above his head to grip at the sheets.

His hands also go to grab his ass and pull the cheeks apart to show you how he’s clenching desperately around the toy, whining about how he needs you right now, to stop fucking around and get your big ass cock in him or else-

But that “or else” doesn’t really get finished, not with you startling him with your speed and sight of the ribbons.

His arms are tied now, forcing him to keep spreading his ass, to keep showing himself off.

This has him burying his face into the bed, hiding how red he’s gotten from embarrassment.

You don’t allow that, so you press your hand onto the plug to push it in deeper.

He yells out your name, body jolting as the toy relentlessly messes with his prostate while your other hand curiously goes to touch the front.

The thong is absolutely soaked and sticky, and when you move your fingers against the fabric to feel just how sticky it is, Bakugou tries humping them, well, really just trying to rub his dick against your fingers because wow the stimulation of the fabric is n i c e.

But you’re not having it just yet, you wanna appreciate his perfect posture a bit more.

Reminder: the butt plug is already at its highest setting.

So the next best thing you can do is smack his ass because your baby loves that, loves how you leave compliments and praise for how it jiggles and gets a pretty red. He does it for you, after all, makes sure it’s always at its best presentation.

But he’ll never tell you shit because then you’ll tease him and embarrass him in front of his friends.

So a few slaps in, being careful with his hands, all followed by cooing at how it moves, how it blushes, how it’s now matching his face and probably dick too, has him trying to fuck back into the vibrator, but he’s humping absolutely nothing and growing more and more desperate and horny.

You back away from the bed, going for your camera to take another pic for your growing collection.

On the bed lies Bakugou Katsuki, all tied up, lingerie getting sticky with precum, the laciest garterbelt you’ve ever seen decorating his waist while he’s panting heavily, ass in the air, face completely red and wet, whether it be his sweat or tears.

He’s holding his ass apart to show you the vibrating diamond butt plug that’s been stuck in the highest setting, buzzing away as he’s whimpering your name, hiccuping “mommy, mommy, mommy” as he pleads for mercy, wiggling his ass as he tries luring you back to his body.

“M-mommy! Hnnnm tuh-touch me! Plea-ease? Please~”

Hey, aren’t you supposed to be nice? Eh...

He can’t come alone from the vibrating butt plug, never has been able to before, and if his rocking hips don’t indicate how much he wants to either fuck the bed or have your hand on it, you just ignore it.

Let’s see if tonight he’ll be able to cum hands-free for once. And make sure he cries more and more everytime he gets to cum from your cock and only because of your cock.

Basically that’s your birthday gift. Fuck him good until he either forgets his name, he's a babbling, crying mess, he's completely milked, or all of the above.

After hours of being edged by the toy he finally came, but in thin, small amounts, so you had to fuck out a few more rounds and cum out of him before he passed out.

In all honesty, he begged you to fuck him until he passed out. He had been fantasizing about it, after all.

After you both had your final orgasm of the night, rather early morning, he’s in tears, body trembling through the last tremors of his 2nd dry orgasm out of what? 7 orgasms? The copious amount of cum he’s managed to get milked out of him drying everywhere on his body, drool wetting the bed sheets even more than they were, room smelling like caramel, asshole fluttering around nothing and dick twitching as if wanting more.

Bakugou’s speaking gibberish at this point, the only coherent words leaving his dumb mouth being “mommy”, “more” or your name as he slowly succumbs to his exhaustion.

You give him your premium grade A aftercare during the little time he remained conscious and took care of everything else as he slept.

Next day, you cook breakfast, even if he grumbled about the taste or appearance.

He’s a good boy, he’s not gonna yell at you or be ungrateful with anything and everything you do, considering you put up with his anger. I mean, he gives his opinions, insights, inquiries through loving shouts of disapproval and approval.

All in all, he liked his birthday, but told you he kind of expected you to throw a party and had mentally prepared himself

Goddamn it. Guess next year you’ll call Mina for some help

#bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #sub bakugou #sub bnha #ლ; blasphemy #𝖇𝖆𝖐𝖚𝖌𝖔𝖚

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katsukikiss · 3 years

Text

YOU’RE MINE, NOT HIS

CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP// BAKUGO X F!READER

Warning: NSFW 18+, cheating (not really), fingering, unprotected sex

You and Izuku have gotten very close recently while studying together, and a certain someone isnt very happy about it.

AN: Poor Izuku 🥺 I felt so bad writing this, but so good at the same time lol I must write something soon to pay him back//also send me requests for oneshots! im down to try anything you guys might want!

WC: 2k

Masterlist

You and Izuku had a ‘study date’ last night at his house. You were hardly struggling in organic chem, just needed an excuse to come over at this point. You two had been meeting for tutoring sessions for the last two months or so. Your grades had thoroughly improved since then, so most people believed thats all you two were doing; studying. And you were, of course, but as of recently it was a lot more than that. It started with innocent glances at your chest while you took notes, brushing his fingers along your leg when you couldn’t figure out the answer to a question, and you weren’t oblivious. You began to reciprocate the feeling, wearing shorter skirts to bend over and pick up your pencil, laying your hands on his chest when you begged him to give you the answers. He adored the way you looked up at him so innocently, with pleading eyes, desperately needing his help. He loved helping you improve, after all, he wanted you to become a great hero by his side one day.

However, not everyone was oblivious to you and Izuku’s little sessions. Bakugo knew something was going on between you two. He had never seen Izuku so protective over someone the way he was with you. He hated the way the green-haired boy would stare at you with dark eyes when you spoke to another male student. He noticed how he’d always want to be around you, his demeanor changing when you would leave for a different class or when training sessions were split up. Bakugo was utterly disgusted by it, but it gave him an evil idea. ‘She doesn’t belong to him, she never will, I’ll be sure of it’ he thought to himself.

After last nights study session, you failed to realize that you had left your textbook on his bed. He noticed soon after you left and texted you, telling you not to worry and that he’d bring it for you tomorrow morning. You had missed him in the morning though, running late from going to get an iced coffee, so you decided you would get it from his bag in the locker room before your chem class. You both had training but you had to go to a different site with the rest of the girls, while the boys stayed in a closer facility.

Your water quirk meant that you spent a lot of time getting wet, so naturally, your hero suit looked like an elegant yet sexy two piece swim suit. The top was white, long sleeved with a cut out above your breasts and the bottoms were a standard bikini bottom, with sheer white tights that were waterproof. You always felt so weird wearing it during co-ed training sessions, but Momo urged you to feel confident in it, telling you that you looked sooo hot in it. You got to the girls locker room early to slip into your hero suit. You made your way over to the boys locker room and took a peek inside. They all seemed to be out and training already so you snuck inside. You looked around before you spotted his bag, his All Might backpack. You chuckled a bit before bending over to unzip the bag. You grabbed your textbook from it and zipped the bag back up. You stood up to leave but when you turned to face the door, a large figure stood in your way.

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing in here?” the intimidating blonde scoffed at you. You shuffled backwards, clutching your book in your arms. You were sure that everyone had left already, was he here the whole time? He began to step forward before he was standing an inch from you. You looked up to meet his eyes that were piercing down at you.

“And you’ve got your sexy little hero suit on, its almost like you wanted to get caught in here” he laughed with a devilish grin.

“I-I have training to go to. I was getting my textbook from Izuku’s bag” you managed to say. His eyes filled with rage upon hearing his name. He thought of the late nights you two spent together, he imagined Izuku talking down to you, treating you like some helpless puppy, acting like he was some sort of hero, taking advantage of you. You were taken back by the face he made at you. You knew Bakugo hated Izuku, but what did your relationship with him have to do with that? Was he jealous? Or spiteful?

“I dont know what you see in Deku, but I can promise you, you’ll forget all about him after this” Bakugo said in a husky voice. ‘After what?’ you thought. Before you had time to think, his hand was wrapped around your neck as he pulled his lips to yours, crashing the two together. You and Izuku weren’t dating, but something about this felt wrong. You pulled yourself away from him and stepped back.

“Bakugo, w-we shouldn’t, this isn’t right”

“I don’t think you belong to him do you? Come on, I see the way you look at me”

He was right, you do look at him with flirtatious eyes, or at least, you used to. Before you and Izuku started meeting to study, you would fawn over Bakugo. He never seemed to return the feelings however, always picking on you or making fun of you. You deemed that as him being uninterested, so you moved on from your infatuation, but you were very wrong. He never stopped watching over you, showing his affection in his own odd way. But his heart dropped when he realized you didn’t look at him the same anymore, but looked at Izuku that way instead. He couldn’t stand to see you with that nerd when he deserved to have you. You were lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize he had stepped closer to you. You were up against the lockers now, your exposed back grazing the cold metal.

He bent down and whispered seductively in your ear, “Let me make you feel good baby, we don’t have much time in here and I think you should see what a real man feels like”. He pressed his lips to yours, more feverishly this time, as if he was about to lose you. His tongue invaded your mouth and tangled with yours. You didn’t pull away this time so he slipped his hand under your suit and began to grab at your breast. He brought his coarse fingers to your nipples and began gently rolling it around between them. You let out a breathy moan into his mouth. He shuddered at the sound of your voice, he loved hearing you enjoy his touch.

He traced his free hand down your stomach until he got to the waist band of your tight bottoms. You squeeze his shoulder with one hand and run your fingers through his hair with the other. He slipped his hand underneath and started by running his fingers along your folds. He dipped two fingers into your cunt and began to gently pump them in and out of you. He removed his lips from yours, moving down to your neck, sucking and biting at your tender flesh. You let out soft cries as his fingers pick up the pace.

“Tell me what you want” he demanded, looking back up into your eyes. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest as you remembered why you were in the locker room in the first place. Anguish and regret was painted on your face and Bakugo noticed.

“Don’t feel bad baby, what he doesn’t know cant hurt him, now be a good girl and tell me exactly what you want” he said as he plunged another finger inside you. Your legs shook and all your thoughts of Izuku vanished under his touch. He was only trying to comfort you in the moment, but he wanted Izuku to know what you two were doing.

“P-please I want you, I want you i-inside please” you begged. You needed to feel him, you needed him to fuck you.

“I knew it, Deku’s just not doing it for ya is he?” he said with a cocky grin. Truth be told, you and Izuku had never gotten that far before because he was taking things too slow. You desperately needed a good fuck, it had been months since you’ve last felt this good. You knew Izuku would be a gentle sweetheart in the sheets but you needed someone who could do both; fuck you senseless but also make love, and Bakugo could hit both those marks.

He removed his fingers from you as you clenched around the emptiness he left. He pulled your bottoms down and quickly turned you around, pushing your face into the lockers. You hear him fumble to unzip his pants before he prodded his member at your entrance. You couldn’t look back to see exactly how big he was but when he began to drag his cock along your folds, your legs started to tremble. He gathered your slick and pushed into you. You let out a loud cry as your walls grasped onto his girthy cock. He grabbed your wrists and pulled them behind your back, holding them with one hand. He started to violently pound into you, his balls slapping against your swollen lips, echoing in the empty locker room. He used his free hand to reach around and started to swirl his fingers around your sensitive nub. His pace never let up, he started to thrust harder and deeper with every second. Tears started to form as you felt your orgasm coming up.

“Who do you belong to?” he grunted into your ear, his breath hot against your neck.

“You Katsuki, I be-belong to you”

“Thats right babygirl, only me, now cum all over my cock”

Your legs began to quiver and your entire body convulsed. You let out a long cry as your walls clenched and released your juices all over him. He couldn’t take much more after that and removed his hand from your nub before he grabbed at your ass, gripping onto it for dear life. His pace quickened before he quickly pulled out, his cock twitching, warm shots of cum spurting all over your back and ass. He leaned to kiss you on the cheek then walked over to his bag, pulling out a small white towel. You stayed motionless, still with your face pressed against the lockers waiting for him to return. He cleaned you up and turned you around to face him. Realizing how long you two were in there, you quickly pulled your bottoms and tights up, fearful that the other boys would be returning any moment. Bakugo looked disappointed in how rushed you were to leave him. You tried to step forward but he planted a hand next to your head against the lockers. With his other hand he tilted your chin up and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“You know I can tutor you right?” he said with a small smirk. You blushed at the suggestion. You didn’t really need tutoring anymore, but you would love to see him again. Before you could answer you heard a door open. Bakugo removed his arm from the locker and turned to look at who interrupted you two.

“Y/n! Are you okay? Did you find my bag?” he asked sympathetically. You swallowed hard and just nodded, bending to pick up the textbook you had dropped. You quickly scurried to the door before looking back at Bakugo quickly with a stern eye, as if signaling for him to ‘keep his mouth shut’. He looked back at you with a devious smile and a wink before you shut the door.

“What are you doing in here with y/n? What did you do?”

“I just taught her a lesson, I don’t think she’ll be needing your help anymore” Bakugo said with a smug grin before leaving Izuku alone in the locker room.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #izuku fluff

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itsallyscorner · 3 years

Text

Bring Me Back

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Filming “Cherry” had its ups and downs for Tom. When filming finally takes its toll on him, you’re there to instantly bring him back from the world of Cherry.

Warnings: Mentions of drug abuse, PTSD, murder. A smidge of smut.

A/n: In honor of the Cherry🍒 trailer dropping, I decided to write this!

(GIF creds: @atealiers )

Any kind of project was a blessing to Tom. He loved being an actor. He was fond of telling stories through the big screen and got a kick from portraying many different characters. Acting was something he felt passionate about, it was his craft and he was very dedicated when it came to becoming his roles. Cherry was quite different from the other movies he’s been in. It was dark and contained many subjects like drug addiction, PTSD, and crime. The world of Cherry was something Tom was not used to; it was twisted. He hasn’t been exposed to things like drugs or the events that Nico Walker had been through. Which was why he was hesitant to take on the role of Cherry.

When the Russo Brothers approached him with the idea, he was excited. He was getting the opportunity to tell another story and would explore the world of a new character. Though the more he looked into it, he realized that maybe he wasn’t up for the role. Was he really ready to dive into the dark and traumatizing life of Nico Walker? As an actor, he was willing to take the job, it would give him an opportunity to expand his career and would possibly be one of his best work. As Tom, he wasn’t sure if he could handle learning or re-enacting the events that occurred in Cherry. But Tom did like a challenge, which was why he ended up agreeing to become Cherry.

He prepared himself mentally and physically pre- production. For research, he interviewed army veterans and former drug addicts to get an idea of what it was like to be in those positions. To get the look of Cherry, he did a variety of things. For example, going on a diet and losing weight, then gaining said weight again once they had to shoot the army scenes. Another thing he did was shave off the gorgeous brown curls that adorned his head. At first you weren’t too happy with his change in hairstyle, but later on you found yourself running your hands along the short strands of hair, loving the fuzzy feeling it gave your palms.

After the interviews and hearing others’ experience, Tom felt a level of responsibility to tell the story of millions of people around the world. Not only was it telling the story of Nico, but of other army veterans who suffered from PTSD and people who’ve had drug addictions. He was fully on board now and there was no looking back. He was going to push himself to the limit and to places he’s never been before.

Filming was tough. There were scenes he had to do that were so unlike him, that felt wrong, and sometimes he just had to take a step back. They didn’t feel right, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. This was his job, if he wanted this movie to be the best that it can, he was going to commit. Thankfully, he was working with the Russos, who he’s known for a while now. He was familiar with the two and they were patient with him, giving him the time to regain himself before shooting an intense scene. The cast and crew were very understanding as well, creating a safe space for him on set. Having Harry along with him helped as well, the familiarity of his brother kept him grounded and avoided him from falling into the void of Cherry. Though he had all these supportive people around him, there was only one person who could calm him down when things got suffocating on set. The only person he wanted to be in Cleveland with him but wasn’t. You. Since you had your own life and job, you were unable to fly out to Cleveland with him. Instead you stayed at your shared home with Tessa as company. All he needed was you when he felt the affects of Cherry caging in on him. Just the sound of your comforting voice over the phone could clear his head and make him breath again.

He had his bad days on set, where he would have to take a moment and hide in his trailer for a few minutes. During those few minutes he liked to be alone as he waited for you to answer your phone. The line would ring, it’d stop, then the sound of your sweet voice would be the only thing he’d hear. Sometimes you didn’t answer the first time, but nonetheless you answered eventually. It wasn’t the same as having you with him in person, you had your responsibilities, and he understood that. He just wished that one day you’d come to Cleveland. He wanted to be in your arms, stuff his face into your neck, breath in your familiar scent, he just wanted to feel you. You were his home. His safe haven. And it was all he wanted right now.

•

Glancing at your phone, you wondered why Tom hasn’t texted you yet. Not that you were itching for him to text you, but because around this time he would be blowing up your phone telling you things that happened during filming or how his day was going. You decided that filming probably went into overtime making him busy during his break. You shrug to yourself and continue working on your laptop.

You hear the sound of Tessa’s nails clicking against the floors as she enters the office of your home. You greet her with a smile as she settles herself beside your legs.

“Is it dinner time already, Tess?” You scratch her head as you glance at the time on your screen. It was currently nine at night, a bit late for dinner, but you haven’t noticed.

“Just give me five more minutes and I’ll get us dinner. How does that sound, love?” A somewhat sound of approval emits from Tessa. You get back to work, fingers typing away as you finish off the last of your work.

You finish in four minutes, finally satisfied with your work. You let out a content sigh and turn your laptop off. When you get up you stretch and let your bones crack after being in the same position for hours. Tessa joins you, stretching out her front paws then shaking her body out. You chuckle as you lead the way to the kitchen. Taking the scoop for Tessa’s kibble, you fill her bowl up, causing the dog to look up in curiosity. Once you placed the bowl down, her tail wagged wildly as she stuffed her face into her food.

You decided on going for something simple, ramen noodles. You were too tired too cook anything and ramen noodles were the quickest thing to cook in your pantry. While you waited for the noodles to heat up you checked your phone. You went through your notifications, but there were still no texts from Tom. Though you were concerned, you assumed that they had a long shooting day, making him too busy to text.

Hi love! I hope you’re doing well in Cleveland. I know you’re probably busy, but hopefully filming isn’t tiring you out too much. Have an amazing day! Don’t forget to drink some water from time to time and eat :) Tess and I miss you and love you so much! Talk soon xxx

You send the text with a smile. He won’t read it till he was free or done with filming, but you knew he’d see the message while you were asleep.

The microwave beeps, letting you know that your food was done. You end your night catching up on episodes of New Girl and eating soup. When you were done you did your nightly routine and settled in bed. You turn the lights off and snuggled under the warm sheets.

“Night Tessa.” You whisper to her. A huff comes out of her as she makes herself comfortable on the foot of your bed. When the both of you were settled, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

Buzz

The harsh vibrations of your phone shook you awake. Desperate for sleep, you blindly grab your phone and turn it off. Silence fills the room again as you turn around to stuff your face into Tom’s pillow. You were slowly drifting back to sleep when your phone began to vibrate again. With a groan you stretch back and snatch for phone off the night stand. You don’t bother looking at the caller id.

“Hello?” Your voice rasps out.

“Thank God you answered.” The person on the other line said. “I know you’re busy, but how soon can you visit Cleveland?” The deep voice was belonged to Harry.

“Uh—I’m not too sure, I’ll need to check in with my boss.” You reply. When you start feeling more awake you become curious as to why Harry can be calling you. “Why? Is everything ok? How’s Tom? I haven’t heard from him all day.”

The younger Holland sighs. He takes a moment to answer your questions making you suffer in silence, wondering what could have happened to your boyfriend. “Um, they’ve been shooting some intense scenes lately. Tom’s been trying his best but everyone’s noticed that he’s been a bit different.”

You sit up in bed feeling more awake. “What do you mean by different, Haz?”

“Well he’s snapped at the Russos quite a few times. There was this one scene, that they shot multiple times, and Tom would just break down after every one. (Y/n), I’m concerned for my brother, I don’t know what else to do. He’s locked himself in his room after every shoot. A—and I don’t know. I’ve tried to tell him that he can talk to me but he wouldn’t.” Harry explained, his voice croaked. You heart felt heavy for him. Harry was always there for his older brother, so to see him feel so helpless made you feel sorry.

“Haz, calm down, you know how your brother can get. How long has this been happening?”

Harry sniffed over the phone, “About a few weeks now. It’s only started becoming worse last week and now.”

The concern you felt for Tom grew. From what he’s been texting you, filming had been going great. He appeared happy on your FaceTime calls and sounded like his usual self. But maybe he actually wasn’t.

“Harry everything’s gonna be fine, alright?” You assure him. “I’ll call my boss first thing in the morning and when I get the ‘ok’ to leave I’ll get the first flight out to Cleveland. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds good. Can you tell me if you can make it? I’ll have someone come with me to pick you up at the airport.” His voice is quiet, almost muffled.

“Yeah I will, don’t worry.”

“Ok, thank you (y/n).” A small smile forms on your lips. You rub the sleep out your eyes as you glance at your closet. “Alright Haz, I’m gonna go now. But if there’s anything else, just text me or call.”

“I know, stay safe (y/n).” You bid him goodbye and place your phone on the empty space beside your side of the bed. Tom’s side of the bed. You bite your lip in thought as you worry about your boyfriend. You knew he was doing almost everything he can to make sure the movie came out perfect. If that meant shredding himself emotionally and physically, he was going to do it. Tom was dedicated to his work, but he’s never done anything close to Cherry, making you worried about the thoughts that could possibly be going through your lover’s head.

Tessa, who’s now woken up, waddles closer to you, sensing your uneasiness. You appreciate the dog’s gesture and pull her into your side, resting your chin on her head. You were basically sleepless the whole night. Although you haven’t emailed your boss yet, you already had a suitcase packed of your clothes. Your passport and other important belongings were already in a bag, ready to leave London.

The morning had been hectic. You’ve managed to get two hours of sleep, waking up at six in the morning. Still in bed, you sent your boss an email about a family emergency and how you needed to be out of the country for at least a week. As if the gods above knew of your situation, your boss willingly let you go, no questions asked and gave you well wishes. With that out the way, you scowered the Internet for flights to Cleveland. Luck was on your side that morning because you’ve booked a flight that took off in the afternoon. With your bags packed, you drove to Nikki and Dom’s to drop off Tessa.

Now all checked in, you were at Heathrow Airport waiting to be called for your flight. You were sat at your gate, with an iced coffee and a croissant from Starbucks, texting Harry. The two of you were discussing the time you’d arrive and how he’d pick you up. When you were both in agreement, you two decided to catch up. He had been in Tom’s trailer eating his breakfast. An hour passes and you were being called to board the plane.

You settle in your seat, but your leg bounced in anticipation. After the things Harry told you, you just wanted to have your boyfriend in your arms. You knew everything was probably getting to his head, all you wanted to do was hold him and tell him that he was going to be ok. As the plane began to take off, your lack of sleep caught up on you. Throughout the whole flight, you slept soundly, the worries of Tom subsiding for the time being.

~🛬~

The plane lands in Cleveland safely. It was night when you arrived. With your bags, you looked around the airport for a familiar curly haired boy. Harry waves wildly at you before running and pulling you into a tight hug. You laugh wrapping your arms around the slender boy.

“How’s your day been, Haz?” You ruffle his hair as he rolls your suitcase to the parking lot. He shrugs, “The usual. Was on set with Tom, ran around and got things for him, nothing much happened honestly. But you’re here now, so this is the highlight of my night.”

The two of you approach a black car with a driver inside, Harry motions for him to unlock the trunk. He lifts your case in before the two of you get into the backseat.

“How was your flight?” Harry asks you. The car began to move, exiting the airport and entering the highway.

“I slept through all of it, I don’t remember a thing about the flight besides getting on and off it.” You chuckle, leaning your head back against the headrest.

Harry nudges your shoulder, “Thanks for coming out with such short notice.” You wave him off. “It’s no worries, anything for my boys.”

The car is quiet, the only sounds that could be heard is the car’s wheels against the pavement. You turn to Harry, “How was he today?”

“He was pretty good in the morning.” Harry started. “Then filming started and he would grow frustrated after a few scenes. His temper’s been short. He snapped at me during lunch, which is normal, but I just asked him if he wanted some water. He broke down after a certain scene today, I tried talking to him but he still wouldn’t open up about it.” Tom wasn’t too open about his feelings sometimes. He struggled to voice them at times making all his frustrations and feelings bottled up in his head.

Half an hour later and you guys arrive at Tom’s rented home in Atlanta. As soon as you opened the door, you felt the heavy atmosphere. It was somber and tense, the chilliness of the weather also felt inside the house. Harry gestures up the stairs, “Don’t worry, go see him. His room is the first door on the left.”

You quietly thank him and climb up the stairs. You find his door, taking a deep breath before knocking. You hear some shuffling behind the door, “Harry I’m fine! Leave me alone!” His voice was deep, a bit scratchy. You frown at the door.

“Tom?” The room falls quiet. Suddenly you hear fumbling and the sound of heavy footsteps behind the door. The door opens and you finally see him. He was dressed in a large shirt with sweatpants. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, eyes glassy, and chapped lips.

“(Y/n)? You’re here?” He asks you in disbelief. A tight lipped grin forms on your lips.

“Yeah, Har—“ You were going to explain how you got there but he immediately threw himself at you. His arms wrap tightly around your figure, his head dipped into your neck, pulling your closer into him. One of your arms go around his neck while the other rubs his back soothingly. A whimper bubbles out of him, his shoulders beginning to shake. You managed to shuffle the both of you back into his room, closing the door behind you.

“You’re ok.” You whisper into his ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. His grip around you never falters. Though he was much taller than you, he seemed so small at the moment. His body drowned in the shirt he wore, making him look thinner. You feel tears soaking into your shirt, making your heart clench in pain. You rest your forehead against his shoulder, holding and whispering sweet nothings into his ear until he was ready to speak.

A few minutes pass until his removes his head from your neck. You frown at his tear stained face, his eyes and cheeks red from quietly sobbing into your shoulder. Your hands cup his face, wiping the trails of tears on his cheeks. Tom leans closer to your touch, his eyes shut while his lips kiss your palm.

“I’m sorry, you’re probably tired from the flight.” He apologizes but you shake your head. You lead him to his bed and sit against the headboard. Tom follows in suit, desperately trying to get closer to you. His arms wrap around your torso, his head rests on your chest, while your legs tangle themselves together.

“I’ve had plenty of sleep on the flight, how are you?” Your lips are against his short hair from holding him so close. You nails scratch softly at his hair, calming him down.

“I don’t know if I could finish it.” He quietly admits. He shakes his head at himself.

“Why’s that, Tom?” Your boyfriend takes a deep breath as he sits up, removing himself from your touch. He sits across from you with legs crossed as he holds his head in his hands.

“I—I, it’s too much. There’s so much fucked up things he’s done. And all the things he’s seen. I just—sometimes I feel like it’s me who’s committed all of those things. When we shoot the scenes in the war and when I had to do drugs and rob banks, I felt like I lost myself—“ He cries interrupting himself to take a breath in. Compared to your fingers that ran gently through his hair, his clawed at his head. His palms rub harshly at his face, turning his skin a bright tint of red. To see Tom in such pain made you sad. You hated seeing him like this.

You gently remove his hands from scratching at his face and hold them in his lap. He stares down at your hands, clinging onto them as if his life depended on it. “I get lost in the character sometimes and I have to pull myself out of it to bring me back. But it keeps on happening over and over again. Then the Russos kept telling me to reshoot the scene more like Cherry, and I lost it and yelled at them.” You feel his tears fall to your your hands, making tears well up in your own eyes. You shuffle closer to him and kiss his forehead before pulling him into you. You stay quiet, letting him get whatever he wanted to get out.

Tom’s face is against your shoulder again. He sniffs before continuing, “It’s like everyday I find something he and I have in common. Then I think that maybe I’m turning into him. I don’t want him to be part of me. (Y/n), I don’t want to be him, I don’t want to do the things he’s done.” He sobs into your shoulder. Your heart breaks at how broken he sounded. His shoulders shook again, his back burning up with tension. A few tears made it’s way down your cheeks as you pulled his face away from you.

“Look at me.” You urged him. His jaw clenched, still looking down at his lap. He shook his head in response. “Tom, please. Look at me.” Your voice cracks. He slowly tilts his head up, your eyes connecting. He didn’t have that twinkle in his eyes, it’s like they’ve lost the light in them. Instead they were dark, like there was no life behind them. There was a mix of sadness, confusion, and even fear in his eyes.

You sadly smiled at him, cupping his face with your hands. “You’re not going to be him. You never will. You’re Tom. You are nothing close to Nico or Cherry. You are the sweetest man I have known in the world, you wouldn’t even hurt a damn fly. You’re not him. I know you aren’t. You wouldn’t do the things he’s ever done even if you were forced to. I know you Tom, I assure you, you’re nothing like him.” Tom hiccups, gripping onto your wrists.

“When this is all over and you’re done filming, we can forget about him. We won’t even mention him.” You assure him, stroking his cheeks.

“What if—,” You cut him off.

“No, there’s no what if’s. You’re going to be fine Tom. You’re surrounded by people who love you and will make you realize that you’re nothing even near him. You are the kindest man ever, you love your family, you care about your fans, and your brothers. You’re busy always taking care of everyone else, I think it’s time you take care of yourself, love.” You tell him. A small smile is on your face but it falters, “You don’t have to go through this alone, Tom.”

Tom takes a shaky breath in. “You’ll be there right?” He asks like a child making sure his mother will be there when he wakes up. “You’ll be there with me to bring me back?”

Your thumb smooths the crinkle between his brows, “I always will. I promise.” He nods and pulls you into him. You climb onto his lap and settle on his legs. He stares up at you, one of his his hands supporting your back, the other pressed against your cheek. “Thank you. I missed you so much. I’m sorry for not texting, everything’s just been so taxing mentally and physically.”

“No, don’t worry I get it.” You turn your face to press a light kiss on his palm. For the first time since you’ve seen him, Tom managed to crack a smile on his lips. He moves some strands of hair away from your face before resting his large hand on the back of your head. “I love you. I love you so much, (y/n).”

“I love you too, Tom.” You whisper against his lips. He takes that as a sign to finally crash your lips together. After months being apart, the feeling of his lips against yours felt like coming home. The kiss was desperate, like it was the air you both breathed. Tom had been longing for your touch, he craved you every second of the day, whether it be sexually or just missing you. The kiss grew rough, your teeth clashing, tongues poking and gliding against each other.

Tom lays you down on the bed, hovering over you. His hands grab and stroke at your body, trying to pull off your clothes to get close to your skin. He suddenly pulls away from your lips. “I need you. Please, I need you.” He almost begs you. Panting, you nod and push him to lay on his back. “Ok, let me take care of you, Tommy.”

He yanks his shirt off, throwing it to the side. You do the same, leaning down to meet his lips again. You kiss your way along his jaw and down to his neck. When you find that certain spot, he lets out a throaty groan, head falling back against the pillows. You run your nails along his chiseled abs and slightly roll your hips against his growing length. Tom grunts, hands instantly connecting to your ass and gripping onto your cheeks. He helps you roll your hips more, deeper with more friction against you two.

“Mm, Tom. I missed you.” You moan against his neck. You bite down and soothe the spot with your tongue after.

Tom looks down at you, lifting his hips to meet your clothes pussy. “Fucking miss you so much. You have no idea how much I’ve been dreaming of being buried in you again.” You kiss your way down his chest, but Tom stops you. His hands grab onto your leggings and slide them off.

“N-no foreplay. I need to feel you.” He stutters out, mouth agape. You nod in agreement and take his sweatpants off along with his boxers. You spit in your hand, running your hand along his dick to give it some wetness. Tom helps you lift yourself over him and guides your hips down his erected cock. You let out a combination of a sigh and moan as your walls envelop and stretch around him. Tom slightly sits up against the headboard, your tightness wrapping around him. He lets out a cry of relief, your walls around him feeding his cravings. You use his shoulders as leverage to pull yourself up but Tom stops you.

“What’s wrong?” You eye him cautiously. Tom shakes his head, “Nothing’s wrong. I just—can we stay like this for a while? I just want to feel you, please?”

“Yeah, we can do that.” You send him a reassuring smile as you settle back down on him. His hands make themselves comfortable around your waist. You maneuver your arms under his and wrap them around his back. Tom smiles at you, rubbing your back and guiding you into his chest. Before you can nuzzle your face into his neck, he presses a kiss to your temple and lets his fingers get tangled in your hair.

With his eyes closed in bliss, he whispers, “Thank you for bringing me back. I love you.”

You kiss his collarbone basking in the feeling him being so close to you. “I’ll always be here. I love you too.”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland headcanon #Tom Holland smut #Cherry #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland drabble

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hoboal87 · 1 year

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I posted 796 times in 2022

212 posts created (27%)

584 posts reblogged (73%)

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I tagged 302 of my posts in 2022

#dean anon - 96 posts

#talented tongue - 64 posts

#things have taken a turn - 61 posts

#sammy? - 48 posts

#sam winchester - 45 posts

#dean winchester - 34 posts

#wincest - 27 posts

#sam x reader - 26 posts

#smut - 24 posts

#aggghhh whats going on?!? - 22 posts

Longest Tag: 93 characters

#i have had enough of the late seasons sammy slander so have a collection of my fav moments <3

My Top Posts in 2022:

Shadow

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, OFCs

Warnings: Fluff, just soooo much fluff, brothers being brothers, kittens.

Word Count: 2600

Summary: Sam finds a stray kitten.

My Masterlist

an abandoned kitten.' A small meow comes from the kitten, having unwrapped itself from the hoodie, and is now toddling across Sam's bed, clearly seeking his attention.

"It's probably 'cause this place hasn't been cleaned in ages," Sam excuses. "Not since Mrs. Butters…"

"Yeah, well, it's not like we can hire a cleaning service," Dean sniffs.

That night, Shadow ignores the plush bed Sam bought for him, opting to lie down so that his head rested on Sam's shoulder, kneading him gently and purring loudly.

By the time Dean returns, Sam has unfortunately forgotten that his brother doesn't know about the kitten until he starts sneezing every five minutes.

"I thought you were going clean, Sam," Dean grumbles between sneezes. He had cleaned, but then Shadow decided to escape Sam's room, and honestly, it's a miracle Sam found him.

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59 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

Don't Speak, Part 18

Pairing: implied Winchesters x F!Reader, implied Adam x F!Reader, implied Dean x Jo

Characters: Sam, F!Reader, Dean, John, Adam, Claire, mentions of Bobby, Ellen, Jo

Summary: John's been gone for a month, and Y/N has yet to Sam and Dean her secret.

Warnings: Character Death, past miscarriage, pregnancy, implied affair, secrets, time jumps, naive reader, legal junk, bits of fluff

Word Count: <2k

beta’d by the wonderful, lovely, @writethelifeyouwant

This is a dark!fic that includes triggering content and is intended for mature audiences only. You are responsible for your own media consumption, so please, read the warnings and if you feel that you may be triggered and/or offended please move along. If you have any questions about the warnings/tags please feel free to DM me.

Don’t Speak Masterlist

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Part 17

The circumstances of John’s death still remain a mystery even weeks later. The first time you gently press for information, Sam brushes you off casually, but there’s an underlying anger that you can’t help noticing, and you quickly drop the subject. You don’t tell Sam about your pregnancy, never seeming to find the right time, not that you’ve had many opportunities; Sam has been all but ignoring you since he and Dean arrived home.

John’s funeral is a private affair, his ashes scattered over the grounds, and a surprisingly modest headstone is erected next to Mary’s. Bobby and Ellen, as well as who you assume is Joanna, hidden beneath an overly large cloak, are the only members of the staff allowed to attend. After the conclusion of the ceremony you walk back into the manor. Sam offers you his arm stiffly when you stumble slightly, and you take it, just in time to feel your knees giving out from under you; everything goes black and fogginess clouds your ears.

When you come to, you are in your bed; Adam, Bobby and Claire by your side. Bobby and Adam are speaking in hushed tones, but you’re unable to make out any clear words. Claire is rubbing the small swell of her belly with one hand, holding a book in the other.

“She’s awake,” Adam is the first to notice your flickering eyes. “Y/N– Mrs. Winchester,” he quickly corrects, “you gave us quite the scare.”

Your thoughts immediately go to the baby you hoped that you were still carrying. Clutching your stomach as you look up to ask the unspoken question that must be written all over your face. What if you’d already done something wrong in this pregnancy? What if your baby was already gone?

“Everything’s fine, Missus,” Adam soothes you.

“But– I fell– What if–?” Your breaths get heavier and your vision tunnels, as you struggle to take in the air.

“Calm down, Y/N,” Adam doesn’t correct himself this time, and sits down next to you. “I need you to breathe, Y/N,” he orders you gently. “Open that window, please,” he says to no one in particular, but Bobby is quick to move, letting in the cool Kansas air.

“Deep breaths,” Claire takes your hand in hers, and pulls it to her chest, letting you feel the rise and fall of her chest as you mimic her breathing. “It’s okay, Y/N,” she says softly, “listen to Dr. Milligan.”

Once you’ve calmed, Bobby leaves you alone with Claire and Adam, muttering something about keeping the boys away for the time being, probably remembering how you reacted to them the last time you were in a state like this.

Dorothy arrives late that afternoon, confirming your pregnancy to still be intact, but she suggests that you be on bedrest for the next few days. You ask Bobby to keep the news of your pregnancy a secret, claiming that now isn’t an appropriate time to tell your husband. Bobby reluctantly agrees as do Claire and Ellen, you couldn’t disappoint Sam again if you lost this baby as well.

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69 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

Mine, Part 1

Characters: Sam, Dean, Jess

Pairing: past Sam x Jessica, past Dean x Jessica

Warnings: 1x01 adjacent, 10x03 adjacent, flashback, dub-con to non-con, smut, murder, pregnancy, obsessive/possessive Dean, creampie, rape by deception, mentions of arousal by murder/blood

Word Count: 3.1k+

A/n: this fic uses dialogue from 10x3. Demon!Dean refers to human Dean in the third person. Special Thanks to @writethelifeyouwant and @synmorite for brainstorming with me!

beta'd by @negans-lucille-tblr

"There’s no point of bringing your brother back now,” Dean grunts as Sam steps away, jerking against the chair. He’d play Sam’s game for now; how could he resist?

“Oh, I will bring him back,” Sam argues.

Sam just couldn’t let things go, but he was always the hopeful one, always saw the good in people, and now that Dean wasn’t human, he didn’t need to pretend that he was the good person that Sam believed him to be. Being a demon was freeing– letting loose, fucking whoever he wanted, killing whoever he wanted – despite Crowley’s insistance that he stick to those with contracts.

The dick who sold his soul just to have his cheating wife killed? Who was really the bad guy in that situation? Sure, Crowley was pissed, but both he and Dean knew who was really the stronger of the two, and Dean could easily overthrow him in Hell if he cared enough to do so. Once he was done here with Sam, he’d need to deal with Crowley. Dean isn’t dumb enough to think that he’s not the one who sold him out to his brother.

“See, where I’m sitting, there’s not much difference between what I turned into and what you already are,” Dean goads Sam, a look of guilt overwhelming his face as he realizes what Dean knows.

“I never meant–”

“It doesn’t matter what you meant. That line that you thought was so clear between us and the bad guys, ain’t so clear, is it Sammy?”

Tears well in Sam’s eyes, demon or not, Dean knows exactly how to play his brother. “You took a guy at his lowest, used him and it cost him his life and his soul. You know what, you might actually be worse than me.”

Sam fills another syringe, and walks carefully towards Dean. It was only the second injection, and it wasn’t making him feel more human, it was only pissing him off even more. He’d give Sam this; he was persistent, and Dean could think of something that might get him what he wants. Dean’s darkest secret, something the human him would never allow to say out loud, not wanting to shatter the perfect image that Sammy has of his older brother.

“This isn’t you talking, Dean.”

“Sure, it is, Sammy,” Dean grunts. “A new model: lean, mean, Dean. No one to hold me back, I can do what I want, whenever I want. And you know what I want, little brother?” Sam flinches slightly at Dean’s words, the familiarity seeming to physically hurt him. “First, I’m gonna tell you what really happened the night your little girlfriend bit the bullet, then I’m gonna do what your brother has wanted for so long, you know how obsessed he is with you? How much he loves you? And not that brotherly love, oh no, this sick motherfucker is in love with you. How fucked up is that? If he couldn’t have you, no one could. Think about it, Sammy, the second you try to settle down, and suddenly John’s gone missing? Quite the coincidence, don’t you think?”

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84 notes - Posted February 4, 2022

Don't Speak, Part 19

Pairing: Sam x Dean, implied Winchesters x F!Reader, implied Adam x F!Reader, implied Dean x Jo, implied Dean x Claire

Characters: Sam, F!Reader, Dean, John, Adam, Claire, mentions of Bobby, Ellen, Jo

Summary: Dean discovers some family secrets in the wake of John's death.

Warnings: Wincest, gay sex, oral, daddy!kink, minor feminization, implied dub con, implied loss of virginity, legal stuff, deathbed confessions/secrets revealed, implied stillbirth, implied marital rape, implied incest (father/daughter), implied attempted infanticide, Mary is not treated well.

WC: 3.1k

beta’d by the wonderful, lovely, @writethelifeyouwant

Don’t Speak Masterlist

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Part 18

Dean

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean grunts as Sam swallows him down and tangles his hands in Sam’s hair, encouraging him to bob up and down on his cock. It’s the first time they’ve been together properly since returning home. Claire’s been especially clingy, wanting to spend all her time with him, and he wishes that she were more like Y/N in that regard, not pushing for any additional attention from Sam.

The feeling of Sam’s tongue around his cock and the obscene moans coming from Sam’s pretty little mouth makes Dean want to cum right down his throat, but he won’t, not until his baby brother’s been taken care of as well. Dean’s mouth waters as he watches Sam’s free hand disappear into his trousers, and notices the unmistakable movement of him stroking himself to hardness.

“Please, De,” Sam groans, popping off Dean’s cock. “Need you.”

“Not yet, baby boy,” Dean tsks, pulling Sam up to his feet, planting a rough kiss on his brother's lips, and replacing Sam’s hand with his own. Dean’s thumb rubs against Sam’s slit, and he uses his other hand to rid Sam of his trousers. A dull thud fills the room as Sam’s pants fall to the floor, before Dean’s rips off his shirt, exposing Sam’s toned and taut chest. Dean can’t help but let out a sigh of appreciation as he takes in his brother’s gorgeous body.

He plants kisses around Sam’s neck, biting and sucking hard enough to leave a number of marks, showing everyone who Sam belongs to. Dean makes his way down Sam’s chest, until he’s on his knees taking Sam’s leaking cock into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around Sam’s length, swallowing him down, hollowing his cheeks, until he can feel Sam at the back of his throat.

“Please, daddy,” Sam moans, and Dean’s cock gets even harder at the use of his new nickname. Dean’s hands make their way towards Sam’s puckered hole, rubbing it for a few moments before pushing in a single finger. Sam never needed much prep, and today is no different, but Dean loves working him open. He slides another finger in, scissoring Sam open, and sucking even harder on his cock until Sam is coming hot and salty down Dean’s throat.

Dean swallows down Sam’s seed, letting him go with a pop, before rising to his feet and planting his lips on Sam’s, letting Sam taste himself on Dean’s tongue. Sam’s needy, whiney, and exactly where Dean wants him, and he can’t wait much longer to sink his cock into his baby brother.

“How y’want it, Sammy?” Dean grunts, wrapping his hand around Sam’s cock again, stroking him back to hardness.

“Wanna see you.”

“On your back and spread your legs f’me,” Dean whispers as he walks Sam backwards towards the bed. “Show me that needy little hole a’yours.”

Dean kneels at the edge of the bed between Sam’s legs where he’s completely exposed. He leans forward to lick at Sam’s hole and pushes in two fingers. Once Sam’s ready and loose, Dean wets his palm and strokes his cock, standing up to guide himself into Sam.

“Please, daddy,” Sam begs again as Dean pushes in the tip of his cock, relishing in the feeling of his brother finally wrapped around him again.

“Y’want daddy to fuck you, baby boy?” Dean teases, leaning over Sam, his breath hot on his face. “Tell daddy how much you wan’ it, Sammy.”

“Please, daddy, need you to fuck me, make me yours.”

“So needy, baby,” Dean starts thrusting hard and deep into Sam. “S’too bad you aren’t a girl, then I coulda started breeding you years ago.” Sam moans at Dean’s words, clenching around his cock. “Keep you full of my cum, watch you grow round over and over again. We wouldn’t have to take on those whores as wives.”

In a swift move, Dean pulls out of Sam and sits back at the head of the bed, beckoning Sam forward with a flick of his finger. Sam’s eyes are lust blown as he crawls on all fours towards Dean. Dean expects him to climb on top of him, but instead Sam takes Dean’s cock in his mouth again, kissing the tip before swallowing him down. Dean lets out a sigh, there isn’t anything much better than Sam wrapped around him, whether it’s his mouth or ass, the only thing that comes close is Y/N’s tight little pussy, but even then, he’ll take his brother over those useless bitches any day. Claire, though, isn’t completely useless, she’s done her duty, at least.

Once Sam’s got Dean’s cock nice and wet, he climbs into Dean’s lap, jerks his cock once more before guiding it towards his hole. Dean reaches for Sam, grabbing his ass as he encourages Sam to ride him; nothing beats a needy slut riding his cock, whether it’s Sam, Y/N, Claire or Jo. Sam’s riding his cock like there’s no tomorrow, as if this may be the last time that they are together.

"Fuck, Sammy," Dean moans as he feels Sam squeeze around him, sees his baby brother’s cock hardening once again. "C'mon baby boy, show me how bad you want it."

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90 notes - Posted January 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Don't Speak, Part 20

Pairing: Sam x Dean, implied Winchesters x F!Reader, implied Adam x F!Reader, implied Dean x Claire

Characters: Sam, F!Reader, Dean, John, Adam, Claire

Summary: Dean discovers some family secrets in the wake of John’s death.

Warnings: confessions, non-con touching, threats, fearful reader, implied m/m sex, implied non-con, pregnancy

WC: 2.8k

beta’d by the wonderful, lovely, @writethelifeyouwant

Don't Speak Masterlist

My Full Masterlist

Part 19

You find Adam waiting for you in your room when you enter. Your head is reeling. He isn’t the father of your baby. He’d all but told you he was, why would he lie to you? Why would he let you believe for well over a month that he, not one of the brothers, was the one to put a child in your belly.

He smiles when he catches sight of you, the two of you have been quietly carrying on since the brothers returned. But it’s not happiness that fills you when you see him, only anger and betrayal. You can’t control your hand as it connects with his cheek as he enters your space.

“You lied to me,” you accuse, your hand flying again, unsure of where your newfound boldness has come from. “You told me that the baby was yours.”

“I thought–” Adam tries stopping your hand in the air. “I was doing it for you, Y/N.”

“I’m not some fragile little girl, Adam,” you spit out, yanking your hand away from his grip. You’d never speak to Sam or Dean in such a way, for fear of retaliation, but Adam wouldn’t hurt you, not physically and certainly not intentionally. “I’ve been through more than you’ll ever know.”

“I know,” Adam’s face softens. “That’s why– I didn’t lie, Y/N. I just– I didn’t correct you. You were so happy, and with what happened with your last pregnancy– John told me to make sure that once you became pregnant, to do whatever it takes to keep you healthy. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

You feel the heat fill your cheeks, maybe Adam chose to ignore all the signs that were in front of him all this time. He must’ve thought it odd, a prominent figure such as John Winchester hiring someone to impregnate his daughter-in-law, but maybe the promise of money, something Adam’s family was desperate for, made him look the other way.

“I wish it was mine, kitten,” Adam whispers, pulling you closer to him, and resting his hand on your bump. “And if you asked me to take you away from here, I would. It wouldn’t be some grand life–”

“I can’t leave, Adam,” you scoff. He didn’t understand, no matter who your baby belonged to you were, for now and forever, even more so than before, tied to the Winchesters. “Sam’s my husband– Dean– Claire– they’re my family now. What kind of wife would I be if I left? I don’t have anyone here except for them, I haven’t seen or heard from my parents in nearly a year, they could be dead for all I know.”

Adam nods as if he understands, but he can’t, not really. He may not know his father, but he still had his mother.

“So the baby’s Sam’s,” you state matter-of-factly, if Adam didn’t know about your relationship with Dean or John, you didn’t want to tell him, at least not this way.

Adam’s face scrunches. “Sam can’t be the father of your baby.” Maybe he knew more than he let on.

“How– how could you know that?”

“John–” your eyebrows furrow at Adam's casual use of John’s name. Very few people dared to call John by his name, even in his death he was still a man of high stature, and it felt wrong to hear someone outside the family refer to him with such familiarity. Bobby was the only member of the staff who dared to call him anything other than Mr. Winchester.

“When he hired me, he said he suspected that Sam couldn’t have children. Said that something happened to Sam when he was a baby, said he was cursed. I– I don’t know anything about curses, but there’s no good reason that a healthy man of his age should have issues impregnating his wife. Did John tell you to fuck someone else so that Sam could have an heir?” Adam questions gently.

“I’m theirs,” you mumble, “I’m their wife. I’m the one they chose.”

“Theirs?”

“Sam’s. Dean’s. John’s,” you can’t meet Adam’s eyes, too ashamed to admit that you’ve let yourself be used by the Winchesters for the last year.

“Were you– have all of them been sleeping with you?” Adam asks, taking a step towards you. You nod your head. “How long?”

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91 notes - Posted February 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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swtki · 3 years

Text

Dancing Days - Edward Cullen x Reader Smut

Anonymous said: 19&24 on edward smut? love ur writing!

A/N: Thank you so much :) also I’m so happy everyone is h*rny for Eddy. I decided I want to explore more period times with Edward, changing his persona in a certain decade, but still ultimately being in the same universe as cannon. This will play into the readers character a tad bit.

WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, SWEARING, S*X, VAMPIRES, ORAL SEX (MALE RECIEVING), VIRGIN! EDWARD, NON VIRGIN READER, GENDER NEUTURAL READER, MENTIONS OF WAR AND DEATH.

19: “Fuck me like you want people to know”.

24. “Thing is, I’m a virgin”.

_______________________________________

I brushed my hair into its usual part, making sure I looked flawless. The year was 1976, I was a senior in Highschool. It was a wonderful time to be a teenager, no longer afraid that my friends would die in Vietnam. Even in my dinky little Washington town, the culture was becoming our own.

The Led Zeppelin record playing on my record player stopped suddenly, alerting me that I was no longer alone in my room. I turned, my expression soft as I saw my boyfriend, Edward.

“Whats up with you and this album? Everytime I come in, its always House of Th Holy on repeat.” I rolled my eyes, lifted the record in question off of the tray, and put it back snuggly in its case.

“I can’t help it, Ed. Robert just speaks to me. I’m sure you’re like that with Louis Armstrong.” I waved my hand, walking back to my mirror to finish getting ready.

“Maybe, but the music you listen to it’s...” Edward paused for a moment, sitting on my bed. “It’s suggestive, Y/N.” I turned to him, my eyebrow raised.

“Suggestive? What’s that supposed to mean?” I placed my hands on my hips, and waited for him to explain.

“Well, for one that one song says ‘Sipping booze’, I quite think that is blatant alcohol reference.” I looked at him, dumbfounded. Then, I started to laugh, and I walked over to him. Instinctually, he pushed his head into my chest, enjoying the comfort it brought him.

“I love you, but god are we from two different Mars.” He chuckled, sending a rumble through my chest.

At school, I was an average kid. Fair grades, many friends, many ex friends. When Edward was paired up with me in math, I got through his cold, stone skin. At first, he was annoyed when I would fuck off, leaving him to do the work himself. Understandable, and once I realized how rude I was, I stopped. I talked to him, prodded him truthfully. I would ask him once we started dating if he had noticed me previously, because I had never noticed him.

“Yes, I noticed that you were the only one who didn’t acknowledge me. Ironic I guess.”

A year into our relationship, I would never let him go unnoticed. We walked the halls, hand in hand. Our outlooks were so different when it came to life. He was modest, I was free spirited. Edward was different from my boyfriends previously, I didn’t want to fuck things up, and I refused to even risk it.

School went slowly that day, possibly because my head was focused on what I would ask Edward, my boyfriend of one year, about sex. About us and sex.

I hadn’t told him that I wasn’t a virgin, I was worried he would only want a virgin girl, after all they can never look at you disappointed and say “I’ve had better.” A definite plus. Many a nights I tried to imagine him, moaning completely under my control. I wanted him, but I didn’t know if he wanted me. Surely in 50 years he had found a good fuck. I worried that he would be into someone else, forever tied to a vampiress.

The end of the school day couldn’t have come sooner, my anxiety rising as I got into Edwards car, starting a long silent car ride. I tried to keep my mind off of it, an attempt to avoid the conversation until we were at my house. I kept my mind busy with the lush scenery outside of the passenger side window.

“So... I know you want to ask me, and I know the answers to what I would ask you.” He said blatantly, putting the car in park outside my front lawn.

“I don’t wanna talk out here Ed, lets go inside.” I swung my bag onto my shoulder. Thats the thing with Edward, I never have to say anything, just as long as I think it.

My house was empty, making it easy for Edward to follow me upstairs to my room. I shut my door behind us, then turned to him. Unsure of what to say, I breathed in deeply.

“How long have you known that I wasn’t...you know?” He smiled, sitting on my plush navy sheets.

“Y/N, I knew before I met you what I was getting into. Your ex had a lot of thoughts about that one night where you guys-”

“Oh my god okay ew.” A blush rose upon my face, and I saw Edward laugh as he watched my body fill with embarassment. “Well why didn’t you say something?” I asked.

“I figured if it needed to be brought up, it would be. You and I aren’t exactly a physical couple so I didn’t worry too much.” I walked over to my bed, taking a seat next to him.

“I see...I mean it wouldn’t be a big deal for me so if you want to...” I bit my lip at him, his gaze turned to the other direction.

“Thing is, I’m a virgin.” My expression went from a seductive look, to a puzzled one. I wondered if I had heard him correctly. “I’m old school, Y/N. It wasn’t like how it is now when I was human. People didn’t just have sex in highschool, unless they were married because the man was off to war. So, it hasn’t been on the menu for me. You’re the first girl I’ve dated in fifty years, you know. And no, there was no vampiress or anything.” I smiled.

“Well, I don’t wanna scare you or push it or anything. It’s just you know-”

“You want to touch me, to be touched by me.” his eyes trailed back to mine, looking deep into my soul.

“Yes, I want you, Edward.” I pressed my lips to his, pulling away jut as it got intense. I could feel his disappointment. “I want to...but I can’t let you down. Tomorrow night. I’ll call you and we can talk about everything we want out of it, I’ll give you a fucking fairytale, my love” I chuckled.

I called him that night as I had said I would. We talked about my first time, and everything I liked, followed by what he had seen on video, what he wanted to try, and his fears.

“I don’t want to kill you, darling.” He said.

“Then don’t. I won’t let you.” He laughed at me, enjoying my lack of seriousness.

The next night rolled along with a quick pace. I looked at the clock and saw that it was time for me to start getting ready.

I made myself look simple, a small bit of makeup and hair product, but otherwise just a tank top and jeans. Sometimes, dating an old fashioned guy was a pain in the ass. Always complaining about suggestive behavior. But other times, my shoulders counted as being half nude.

“You look stunning, as per usual.” Edward said, stepping into my room. He was tense and barely moved. “I don’t know what to do..what usually happens with it if I’m not the one doing everything.”

If he had any blood flow, he would have been blushing right about then.

“We don’t have to do anything you know. We can just lay down and watch a movie if you want to, I just want to make you happy, Edward.” I walked over to him and put a strand of his messy auburn hair behind his ear. Without hesitation, he pressed his forehead to mine.

“I want to, thats the part that’s been eating me away ever since I met you. I want to make you feel good, I just don’t know if I’ll lose it and-“ I cut him off with a kiss.

“Even if you break my pelvis into pieces, I’ll still be happy. I’m always happy when I’m with you.” we both smiled, and suddenly the thick tension that once filled the room vanished. “I’ll take care of you tonight, just as long as you’re doing it for you. I just need to know you’re doing this for you, and you need to be sure you wont roll over afterwards and hate me.” I said, my hand clasped in his marble one.

“I want you, Y/N. I have no doubts that I’ll want you afterwards, too.”

I pushed his head down, level to my own. Our kiss was deep, filled with a years worth of hunger. My hands tugged on his hair, making him whimper. Suddenly, I felt my feet lift off the ground as Edward carried me to my bed. With a soft thump, the plush sheets surrounded my body. It was a contrast of warmth on my back, and Edwards cool body on my top.

His hands were balled into fists, clutching my duvet as if his life depended on it. I pulled away, panting for air.

“Sorry, I forget you need air.” He smirked. I rolled my eyes in response.

“Well, its a shame you don’t. Because I intend on taking your breath away.” we both made small laughs at my remark.

“What now?” He looked at me for guidance.

“Get on your back.” I said.

We switched positions, he was now on the bottom. My legs straddled his torso, I sight he visably enjoyed. I slithered my hands up to his head, cupping his face as I kissed him again. My left hand left its post, reaching down to the buttons on his shirt.

I paused, looking up at him once I got to the last button.

“Does it...work like normal or...” He threw his head back and laughed.

“It doesn’t have spikes, I can assure you its just like a humans. But Emmet did tell me to pull out so...I’m kind of worried about the implications of that but-“ I leaned down to shut him up with a kiss.

His hands were still at his side, resting on the bed. I picked up his wrists, and placed them on the side of my thighs. He squeezed them lightly.

My hands roamed over his bare chest, cool to the touch. I lached my lips onto his neck, causing his back to arch below me. I could feel his excitement beneath me, it gave me a big self esteem boost. His hand reached along my waist, tugging at my shirt. His eyes lit up at the sight of my bare chest. He reached for me but I pulled away to slide down onto my knees.

He looked confused, like I had left him high and dry.

“Sit on the edge.” I said softly, my knees burning slightly due to the rough carpet underneath them.

He rid himself of the unbottoned shirt, slidding over to me once finished. My hands slowly stroked his thighs, he was desperate for some type of touch.

I smiled, tugging on his belt until it came undone. He stayed silent, looking at me like I was the only thing in the world. I unbottoned the trousers, tugging on them. He kicked them off and was left in his breifs.

“Is it okay if I..” I looked up at him and he nodded frantically. I palmed him over his underwear, feeling how hard he had gotten from kissing. My fingers latched onto the waist band, pulling them down to reveal a pale yet pink cock. It wasn’t too big, but deffinitley satisfactory. I ran my finger over the tip, earning a small groan from the vampire. My eyes trailed up to him, so I could see him when I took him in my mouth.

He let out a breathy moan, eyes focused on my mouth. His lips were parted ever so slightly. I bobbed my head, and grotesquely sexual sounds arose from my throat. I felt Edward move a strant of hair out of my face, he looked at me like I was a god.

“Fuck..Y/N if you keep doing that there wont be anything for you, dear” He said in a breathy moan. I pulled back, my mouth feeling sore and tired. “Do you still want to?” He asked, grasping his hands on my waist.

“Yes, I fucking need you.” I threw off my jeans, I would worry about finding them later, I needed him. He layed back down, propping his head up on my pillows. Our lips collided in another kiss as I leveled myself with him.

“Are you sure?” I ask him, stroking his hard member.

“I’m sure.” He pecked my lips again as I got ontop of his lean figure. I spat in my hand, lubing up my needy hole.

“How do you want me to do this? I mean like slow? What do-“ He said with genuine worry.

“Fuck me like you want people to know” I whispered, “ Fuck me like you want the entire neighborhood to know that I’m yours and yours only.”

“I can make that happen, love.” He flipped me over, now being back to where we first started. He lined up his cock with my hole, running it around the tight area. I put my fingers in his hair, making a slight tug as he pushed into my body.

Pleasure filled my body as he filled me up, his cock stretched my insides in the right ways. Without pausing, he started to push his hips into mine, making sure not to hurt me.

He reached down to suck on my neck, adding to the pornagraphic moans in the room. My hands travled to his back, scratching my nails down the cold stone like skin. His moans echoed in my ear.

“Y/N, I can’t be on top I’m going to crush you” I laughed at him, tapping his side so he fell onto the bed. I swung my legs over him, sitting on his perfect cock.

“Perfect, fucking amazing.” He said as I steady myself onto him. His face was in a euphoric expression, the most relaxed I had ever seen him.

I began to rock my hips, sliding him in and out of me. His hands grabbed onto my hips, guiding me. Everything was a euphoric experience. My gut filled with that wonderful sensation.

“Edward I’m gonna cum, oh my god” I moaned out, picking up my pace.

Suddenly, the world went still. My eyes went black and I saw stars as my orgasm washed over me. My moans echoed in the room as my body twitched. A few thrusts up into my body and Edward pulled out of me, rubbing his cum out onto his hand.

I layed there panting while he sped to the bathroom, and came back with a clean cloth, wiping down my body. He put the cloth down, pulling up his underwear and handing me mine. I slipped the fabric on, slipping under the covers.

“Get in here, I wanna kiss you”

He laughed, obeying and slipping beside me. Our lips reunited in a soft clash.

“I love you so much, dear.”

#edward cullen #edward cullen x reader smut #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen smut #robert pattinson smut #robert pattinson #twilight shitpost #twilight headcanon #headcannons twilight #twilight fanfic #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale fanfic #carslile cullen #esme cullen

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