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#looking into tapping into things I have been curious about in the past
sanguinaryrot · 8 months
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I’m so excited. I know how to have one (1) extremely specific interaction in Irish now. someone ask me how I’m doing and what the weather is like quick /j
#looking into tapping into things I have been curious about in the past#(this happens every once in a while)#again. my family is Irish so I decided the learn the language#but I’m also exploring spirituality#I don’t think I believe in any of the major religions (though I’ve been standing from afar gazing at Judaism#I am extremely fond of a lot of their ideas and culture. beautiful stuff#and frankly I feel like I’ve been getting signs that I should convert for years now#but I’m not in a place where I feel like I can commit to it so I am just admiring from afar#while I foster what I think ‘god’ is#there’s this concept that some people have that like#god is not a dude who has a beard and lives in the clouds#but rather is the feeling you get when you connect with another person#the sense of wonder you feel when you see something beautiful#and I think perhaps even the ability to hope/wish/manifest/pray/etc something into existence#my mom calls this ‘energy’ but I do not vibe with this term#idk how to explain it other than like#when you’re watching a movie and you see those lines they draw to represent wind and it’s blowing around leaves#or snow#and it’s meant to represent this idea that there is Something affecting the word but it is not corporeal and incredibly vague#that’s what I believe in#it is unknowable but it can be influenced with good intentions#and it permeates your body when you connect to another human in a meaningful way#that’s what it’s like for me. doesn’t have to be for you! but that’s what I’m working with right now#there’s this prayer that saint augustine wrote that I edited lightly to more suit my needs#and I try to say it once a day#I believe it is called Watch O Lord#I edited some of the words to more suit how I view the world but I really like the intention#anyways#Tá sé fuad ach tá sé tirim. It is cold but it is dry. thank you New York!!!!!!
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mggsv · 1 month
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I DONT SMOKE
playboy! j. jungkook x f!black reader || (18+) || reblogs would be appreciated!
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warnings : college party, mentions of smoking, smoking, smut, slight spanking, smoking during sex
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You hated partying. Not entirely..you’d have fun but it dies down quickly when you had no one to talk to. Boring.
You could stay inside and watch the smoke in the air, drinks ultimately being spilled, and sweaty bodies dancing and getting it on in the corner, or you could stay out outside of the large house.
Being in college was truly an experience for you. You just hated that it wasn’t as exciting for you as the movies made it out to be. “Fuck..” You scratch your head, groaning while pulling out your phone to get an uber. Campus wasn’t too far away.
“Ahshit- damnit.” You hear a faint curse, followed by failed attempts of a lighter being struck. Eyes followed the sound, and you couldn’t have regretted it more. Jeon Jungkook. It’s his party after all. Another reason why you didn’t want to be there.
You didn’t know him personally- only having met a few times. He couldn’t even remember your name if you offered $50. He was a lot of things your disliked. A playboy, a smoker, a hardcore party thrower. Not only that- he does it often, and the girls who brag about how good he is in bed…disgusting.
Now, it wasn’t you trying to put yourself up. You weren’t exactly an innocent person. You enjoyed drinking when in the mood, and you’ve slept with a few people. It’s just him. Bumping into each other became so tiresome for you that you changed route’s to your classes. Him generally just not giving a fuck is what pissed you off.
But now? Now he looks up from his cigarette. Now he slowly starts walking towards you, and you started to wish you had ordered that uber instead of being curious.
“Hey- do you have a light?”
“I don’t.” you hum, looking away from those eyes. Everything about the man was just..stunning, that you could admit. Down to the piercings on his lips to the ones in his ears, and onward to his tattoos and hair that curled past his ears. Truly a beauty. You clear your throat as you tapped your foot impatiently, phone somehow slipping into your pocket.
“Why not?” He asks, getting closer. Jungkook was..a curious one. He could snuff you out in an instant, from his view he knew you didn’t have a lighter.
“Why don’t you have a spare? Coming out here knowing your lighter didn’t work. Honestly, seems to me like you came outside and found an excuse to talk to me.” You found yourself grinning, but looking off to the side. Jungkook almost laughed, covered by a chuckle. Rocking on his heels, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Was it that obvious?”
I don’t like you. You wanted to say. Everyone knew you didn’t smoke, including him. You could be a party girl if you kept to it. It’s only on nights like this where you reject every pass made at you.
“I don’t smoke.” You sigh, defeated by your will to stay. “Then let’s get a drink.” he counters, smiling. Cheeky bastard.
“Not in the mood.” It was a game at this point. He wanted you, but you didn’t want to be his girl for the night. You didn’t do hookups. No one night stands. Anyone you’ve ever given your body to has stayed for at least a while. Knowing Jungkook he’d never commit.
“Let me drive you home then.” His hand snaked around your waist. “I have an uber coming-“
“Then i’ll wait out here with you.”
“Christ Jeon.” He starts laughing, and you couldn’t help but do the same. He does however, lean into your shoulder. You shiver at the coldness of the metal on his lip. “Let me take you back inside.”
No. you would day no. You didn’t like him, he’s a whore, and you have morals. You’re a woman of society! A man of his..whatever- would not influence you.
~
“Right..r-right there..” You did not say no. Face tucked into Jungkook’s pillow as his cock slipped into your folds once more, tip touching that spot inside of you that sent you over the edge. It’s been so long… “Oh!” You gasp, shuddering at the feeling of his slipping past your rings, and out..and in.
“Fuck..you feels so good. So good f’me hm?” He hums, pulling your hips back onto his cock, fully bottoming out inside of you while everything rested there..deep inside. “hm?” he asks once more, in a hum. He goes to give a slight smack to your ass, watching how it recoiled back. He was enchanted to say the least. From the very first time his eyes landed on your brown ones. Infatuated with every little thing you’ve done. And finally, he go you.
“Yes! y-yes..” You felt your eyes flutter as they rolled back, tips of his fingers stroking at your sensitive clit. Pussy swallowing around his thick cock. “Taking me in so well.” You’re his favorite girl. You weren’t aware, but mentally he was already thinking of the next time he’d get you like this. Ass up while he fucked you until the party’s over.
The thought of the party still going on while he plowed into you turned Jungkook on so much. “S-shit.” Pussy drunk was an amazing feeling, he didn’t get that feeling often.
Jungkook found himself reaching for the lonely cigarette and spare lighter from his headboard. Giving another smack to your ass- making you yelp- he strikes the lighter. You lift your head at the sound, looking back at him. Your face flushed, eyes watery, still, you fucked yourself on his length. He light the cigarette, the smoke seeping from his lips while he tipped his head back.
“Wanna hit?” he smirks, taking it from his mouth and trying to put it between your lips. You could kill him.
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heizours · 1 year
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BREAK UP
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summary. asking the genshin men “what would you do if we break up?”
tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur
cw. just a mild curse (childe’s part), call signs, and none ig, pls let me know if i forgot something
feat. diluc, venti, childe, scaramouche, ayato
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INTRO.
Really, it was just a hypothetical question, and you had no intention of seriously initiating it in the first place.
But, this question has been itching in your mind for the past few days, and you were genuinely curious what would be the reaction or response you will get from him.
Without further ado, you made your way towards him as you tap his shoulder. He didn’t even get the chance yet to turn around and face you, but you’re already here opening your mouth to speak.
“What would you do if we break up?”
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DILUC.
He immediately stops whatever he was doing at that moment, before slowly turning around to look at you.
No, he is definitely not searching for a hidden answer that you’re using this question as a gateway to leave him. No, he is definitely not a millisecond away from bringing you to a private corner to ask you if he did something very wrong and come talk about it.
But, seeing the curious look you’re putting up in front of him made his suspicions decrease for a mere moment. Besides, how could he not respond to that question when you’re already probably thinking of leaving him right now? With that, he gave his answer in the most persuading way he could come up with.
“As much as I hope for that moment to never come, I’ll try to listen and understand whatever your heart wishes. Though [Name], if there comes a time that it does happen, I want you to know that I and my heart will always remember someone like you. You loved me and understood me when I felt that no one did.”
His answer didn’t fail to give you the amount of butterflies you’re receiving right now, and the possible events where there is a chance you can leave him are now at the very back on your mind. Because, who in their right mind would even leave the Diluc Ragnvindr? Only a fool would do that. Suddenly, you were snapped out of your thoughts when Diluc gently grabbed the both of your hands and brought it closer to him.
“..Now, it’s my turn. Any idea why would you suddenly ask me that, love?”
VENTI.
Oh dear, he would act that the it doesn’t faze him in the tiniest bit, but he’s actually getting nervous on why are you suddenly pinning him this query out of the blue.
He turns around to face you, while continuing to be cheery as he always do but, if you look and scoot a little closer there is a glint of worry and concern washing over him. 
“Oh windblume, who said that I am leaving you? Kidding! But, before I give my answer, may I ask the reason for it?”
Really it’s just his way of confirming if you have plans of leaving him after this event, or you’re question stands as nothing but a harmless one. As you responded that it’s something he doesn’t need to worry about because you’re just as interested as he is, he felt the wind of relief washing over him. 
In any situation, Venti could stay calm as he can but if it would be anything associated with you, he couldn’t help but feel this gut twist in fear. The bard laid his head on your shoulder to give you the answer you’re looking from him.
“Well, we can never guarantee how much time could a person stay in our lives, but if there comes a time it happens between us, I’ll continue to protect, reach and guide you along the wind. You were the first in all my firsts, and I’m willing to make you as the last of my lasts.
CHILDE.
‘Oh shit’ is the first thing that comes into his mind, ‘Don’t tell me they’re planning to..’ is the second thing that comes into his mind, and ‘But what if it’s a joke?’ is the last thing that comes into his mind before warily facing you.
Tries to take the situation lightly and calmly, and he almost succeeded if it wasn’t for his body language. His confidence and outgoing personality he always shows you slowly vanishes, as nervousness was written all over him.
He kind of acts like a boyfriend who’s overthinking and reflecting on his past actions and words, because why would you suddenly ask him something like this, if you aren’t affected right? Yes, he definitely suspects something is wrong. Regardless the amount of suspicion you are giving him, he obliged to your query.
“It’s quite expected that I’ll have a hard time if that happens, because if I could compare you to something significant to me, you’re like my life source, my home, my rest and my peace. Even if we will remain apart for the mean time, I’ll come back to court you again and again just so you can be with me one more time.”
After hearing your statement related to the suppositional question that it’s completely harmless and you had no intention of commencing it, Childe’s uneasiness morphed into relief as he engulf you in a tight hug but not crushable to crush you.
“I’m thinking that someone had bribe you into this...”
SCARAMOUCHE
He scoffs, not before giving you the most nastiest side eye you’ve ever seen. Though, do not be fooled by his demeanour because there is more to that than what meets the naked eye.
At the back of his mind, something tells him that 50% of that is true that you’re planning to leave him after this and another 50% tells him that it is partially false as you’re just being inquisitive.
Questions his what ifs and it just continues to pile up countlessly, until it comes to the point where he has to vigorously shake his head to snap him out of it. He takes a quick look at you, before fully facing you while his arms are crossed.
“Who put that silly little question in your head? I’ll make sure they would be the ones to leave.”
As he saw you frantically waving in the air that it’s no one else but you who put that question in your head and that he doesn’t have to answer it, he couldn’t help but lightly smile. Sure, most of your antics can annoy him but you’re the only person who can deem him tolerable, and it can be said as the same for you. He let out a sigh, before mumbling something that is only for your ears only, as the heat rises up to his cheeks.
“We won’t break up, and I’ll make sure of that. Even if we do, I’ll just come tailing back to you. You’re such an idiot for thinking that I would do that...Stop it with that smile will you?! Ugh, just come here.”
AYATO.
Raises an eyebrow at you in confusion, then that confusion switches to concern as the scrolls he was busy putting on work was now long gone. He looks up at you who’s simply standing there as if the question isn’t affecting you one bit.
Is someone bad mouthing you? Is someone pressuring you? Did they do something? Who forced you into this? Whatever it is, Ayato is determined to find out what’s the root of this question.
Dating Kamisato Ayato is not a joke, for goodness sake he is a leader of one of the most influential clans in Inazuma, so when the public found out about his relationship with you, of course there will be a pressure and a certain inconvenience given to you.
“Why so sudden with this darling? Is there a problem? Would you like to talk about it? I do not know where is this coming from, but I can assure you that we will find a way to fix it.”
Seeing the surprise look on your face, and the way you sheepishly told him that you were just being nosy about it was enough for him to connect the dots. Good, nothing bad happened and you’re perfectly fine, that’s all that matters to him. But, going back to your question, he smiled at you with a glint of refusal in his eyes before answering.
“I am confident that me or you won’t leave this relationship, even though my work serves as a distraction, that reason alone will not stop us from loving each other. If it does happen in the future and you gave me a valid reason for it, I shall perhaps let you go but that doesn’t mean I will also stop loving you.”
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a-certain-romance · 4 months
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No One Knows
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Characters/Ships: Yandere!Ruan Mei x fem!reader
Warnings: Smut written by a minor, Possessiveness, Fingering
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For years, Ruan Mei has struggled with her ongoing research in the origins of life. Failed experiment after failed experiment. The emanator she created was only a short-lived example of all those years of hard work. Maybe it was too ambitious. And frankly, too large to manage. She needed something more stable, and tangible for long enough to be studied.
Through hours upon hours of trial and error, she finally succeeded in the creation of her most prized possession: you, her perfect little creation.
Her attempts at creating life were finally fulfilled with the help of that trailblazer from the Asteral Express. You were timid at first. Her modifications gave you the knowledge and ability to speak and read, but it took some time to warm up to her. Ruan Mei desperately wanted to study you immediately, but she’ll settle for simple observations until she gains your trust.
It was a slow process. If Ruan Mei has learned anything, it’s that she needs to learn how to show you affection. She spent more time with you when it didn’t involve her research. Although she’s been apathetic for some time, you’ve given her the courage to step out of her comfort zone. For the sake of this project of course.
Whatever she did worked. You eventually became as clingy as her past experiments. It’s only natural for you to adopt that same loving nature as the others have, but this time she’s enabled it a little more. She lets you be in the same room when she’s doing side projects and shares her knowledge of the biological and ecological aspects. She shares a lot of her pastries with you, and even makes the time to bake things with you. Sometimes when she’s spending a lot of time writing, she lets you lay your head on her lap for a while. She used to only see you as an influential accomplishment, but now she feels a sense of protective ownership over you.
She can’t keep you at the space station forever. Even though Herta doesn’t mind, she’s starting to get a little too curious about what Ruan Mei is keeping in that unoccupied level of the station.
And worst of all, her little creation is starting to wonder what’s behind those big steel doors that keep her locked in. And that just won’t do. She’s seen you giving those doors such longing looks, seen you tap and occasionally scratch the glass window. She makes a mental note to re-enforce the durability—‘just in case’. She knows she should observe your new behaviors a little closer, but she came to that conclusion a little too late the day she caught you stealing her card.
Were you…actually trying to escape? But why? She transformed this entire area just for you. Her past experiments have prepared her for what it takes to give something life; from food to sunlight to entertainment to company, what more can you possibly need?
“I’ll show you how much you need me.”
Her kisses are feather light at first. She pins you against the very door you intended on breaching. Even the pinning is gentle. You could probably struggle against her, but something tells you that she can easily overpower you with enough motivation.
Just as gently, her knee pressed right against your core. Her lips brush against your cheek, “Do you want more?” She asks sweetly. A little too sweetly. You shake your head, and she flips you around forcefully. In her breathy voice commands: “Hands against the door.”
Your palms shakily press against the surface. “Perfect,” she muses.
She strokes here hands all along your body, eventually settling on your waist. “Look at the way your body reacts to my touch. You’d miss this if you left me.” She kisses and nips your skin with satisfaction as her lips move down your neck.
“Only I can make you feel like this. I created you; I know your body like the back of my hand,” her thumb tugs at your waistband, causing your breath to hitch, “See? Spread your legs for me…yes, just like that, wider. That’s my girl.”
She rolls your pants down carefully to the floor, prompting you to kick them off. Your underwear follows soon after. She returns to her stance behind you. Her gloved hand finds its way to your entrance, and her middle finger is the first to push past your folds. “Be good for me.” She rasps, planting kisses around your shoulder blade.
Your slick coats her finger with every stroke. She retracts from you for just a moment to bite her soaked glove off with her teeth. She tosses it behind her before returning to your inviting warmth with an added finger. She sighs pleasurably, almost nothing is obstructing her skin from yours.
Her other hand forces you to look out the window as she scissors her fingers inside you. The glass is somewhat clouded from your panting, but you can make out the sight of how her green eyes bore into yours.
Her fingers curl and rub feverishly against your sweet spot. Your body shudders as you inch closer to your climax. “Let go,” she moans, “let go and cum for me.” Your slick spurts through her slender fingers as you climax.
As you come down, Ruan Mei whispers a few “good girl”s as she kisses your neck. Her arms wrap around your body possessively with no intention of letting go.
She’ll make arrangements for a more permanent residence to keep you close. No one knows of your existence, and she intends to keep it that way.
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steddiealltheway · 1 year
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Thinking about Robin bursting into Steve’s house - he gave her a spare key long ago - and yelling, “I was just Nancy’s gay awakening!”
Steve is laying on the ground in the living room and sits up. “What?”
Robin launches into the story, “Well, I was just at Nancy’s as you know, and she insisted that she wanted to basically play dress up with me. So, she handed me some clothes and she jokingly changed into mine which were huge on her and so incredibly adorable. I mean-”
“Robin,” Steve says trying to cut off her inevitable Nancy ramble.
“Right. So, there I am in Nancy’s bra and pulling her really itchy shirt over my head, and when I finally get my head out, Nancy is staring at me in her panicked way. And I thought well, maybe I ripped one of her favorite shirts because it was tight and I may have heard a rip-”
Steve lightly taps her arm, and Robin nods. “But then, she just says, ‘Robin, when did you know that you were… you know… gay.’ And I didn’t think much of it, but I told her, and then she said asked if it can happen later in life. And the dots just connected, and I told her yes it can.” Robin finishes her rant in a frenzied state still as out of breath as when she got there.
“And then what happened?” Steve asks.
“I stole Mike’s bike and came here,” Robin says staring off with wide eyes.
Steve stares at her and blinks slowly. “So she’s had this gay awakening, and you ran away and left her to deal with it alone?”
Robin looks at Steve even more panicked. “Holy shit! Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit!” She stands up and runs to the door. “I’ll be back later!”
The front door slams shut and Steve sighs.
“I was wondering when Nancy would realize,” a voice over Steve’s shoulder says.
Steve jumps. “Shit, Eddie. I forgot you were here.”
Eddie puts a hand over his heart. “I’m hurt, Steve. Hurt. I’m always here.”
Steve looks off and questions his past relationship with Nancy. Yes, he got over her in a romantic way long ago especially when Robin told him she had feelings for Nance. And it’s been a weight off his shoulders but he can’t help but wonder…
“Hey, what’s going on?” Eddie asks already on the ground next to Steve.
Steve shakes his head, but he knows Eddie is stubborn so he gives in. “Do you think Nancy was gay when she dated me, and that’s why things never really worked out? I mean, I just feel bad for doing everything with her if she wasn’t happy.”
Eddie takes a moment and then shakes his head. “Steve, a person doesn’t just suddenly become gay, but I think what you’re missing is that I don’t think Nancy is a lesbian. I’m pretty sure she’s bisexual. Which means she likes both.”
Steve thinks for a second and realizes it makes sense. “So, she had more of a bisexual awakening than just a gay awakening.”
Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, you could put it that way. What I had was definitely a gay awakening though. It was in the gym and this one guy stripped off his shirt and it all suddenly hit that yes, I was definitely gay.”
Steve stares off and suddenly blurts out, “Do you think I could have a bisexual awakening?”
Eddie’s jaw drops before he stutters out, “Ye-yeah. I mean… I-I guess you could. But it’s not something you can just force yourself to do.”
“Take off your shirt,” Steve says seriously because he’s curious.
“Dude, I’m not going to force a gay or bisexual awakening on you.”
Steve looks Eddie up and down for a second. He’s always known he’s attractive, just like he knew Billy was attractive and even Tommy in his own way. But it was only fair to notice who would be potential rivals when Steve started dating. But… he knows Eddie is gay, so why would he note his attractiveness?
Eddie sighs and stands up to take off his shirt. “Okay, now you can go back to being your straight self,” Eddie says already pulling his shirt back on.
Steve takes a moment to process, but then he grabs Eddie’s hand and drags him up the stairs. “Steve, there is now way you’re about to do what I think you’re going to do.”
“I sure am!” Steve yells determined.
A few minutes and a lot of complaining later, Eddie has Steve’s jeans on and is pulling his yellow sweater over his head. Eddie even does a little spin.
Steve looks him over and realizes that he feels the same way towards Eddie as he always has. He definitely finds him attractive, and even has the thought in the back of his head that he wouldn’t mind kissing him. Plus, Eddie in his clothes is definitely adorable wait-
Since when has he always wanted to kiss Eddie?
“Oh shit. You cannot tell me that this actually worked,” Eddie says and then laughs. “Okay, very funny, Steve. You can cut it out now.” Steve feels Eddie grab his shoulders, “Steve?”
Steve turns to look at him and says, “Eddie, I really want to kiss you.”
Eddie steps back and says, “Steve, this really isn’t funny. Just knock it off.”
“I’m serious,” Steve says with as much conviction as he has. “And I don’t mean just right now, but I mean that it’s always been there in the back of my head, and I’ve been ignoring it. But, shit, I want to kiss you.”
“Why don’t you buy me dinner first?” Eddie jokes and then stops. “You’re serious?”
“One hundred percent.”
Eddie walks closer to Steve mumbling under his breath, “I cannot believe this worked. Must be a bisexual thing.”
Steve laughs and says, “Maybe it is.”
Eddie finally gets up in front of him and cups his jaw. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Not if I beat you to i-”
Eddie cuts him off with a soft kiss before pulling away and looking at Steve with a bit of fear in his eyes.
“Holy shit, I’m bisexual,” Steve says with a laugh before kissing Eddie again. He pulls back and says, “Wait, this isn’t just you helping me to realize, right? Like, I want to go on a date with you. Multiple if you wanted that…”
“Oh thank fuck,” Eddie says and kisses Steve again.
Steve will have to thank Nancy and Robin later.
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killinfate · 6 months
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Hey :) , if your request are still open, i would like to request, but feel free to do this or not, so i would like to request an imagine (female reader) with carmen berzatto with some jealousy, where he's like possessive and all and maybe with some angst, for the context and everything it's your choice, please?
Thank you for your time, have a nice day/night :)
yes ofc! thank you sm for the carmy request can’t wait for season 3!!
BELIEVE ME.
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CARMY BERZATTO X FEM!READER
— GOOD THINGS NEVER CAME TO CARMEN, SO WHEN THEY DID HE SAVOURED THEM A LITTLE TOO MUCH.
Carmen usually picked you up from work.
6:00pm.
That was always the time.
He sat in his car, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he waited outside. It’d been a long day and he was grateful he’d get to spend the evening with you now. However you were taking a little longer. He tried seeing if he could see you through the glass window; he could.
There you were, at the counter looking down at a slip of paper and a pen in your hand. Carmen’s eyes averted to the man stood beside you. Marc was his name? Ever since Carmen had got with you he began to see the man in a different light.
Carmen rubbed his chin, feeling his jaw tense.
Eventually you came out, a little later than usual. That was fine, right?
Carmen wasn’t going to let his thoughts intervene with his evening with you, yet it lingered in his mind. He was quieter in the drive back to his apartment but you figured he’d had a difficult day.
Finally you get there, the both of you throwing on some random movie. You had dinner and lay against him on the couch. He seemed touchier than usual, clingier..
You looked to the television screen, the light illuminating the room. Carmen kissed your forehead, eventually it coming more frequent. You laughed and looked up, about to ask him a question before he kissed your lips.
The kiss was deep, intimate. You weren’t complaining.
When he finally broke the kiss you decided to ask, looking to him. “Where’s this coming from?” You inquired with a smile. “I mean, I like it but you’ve never been like this before.”
Carmen leaned in and kissed your lips once more, his arms around your waist and skimming gently past your shirt. “Marc.” He murmured absentmindedly against your lips.
“Wait, Marc? Why Marc?” You laughed a little. At first you simply found it funny but you soon grew curious. What did he mean?
He continued to press kisses to your lips, his lips trailing down to your neck. “I don’t know.” He mumbled, not thinking about his words.
You were though.
Your brows furrowed. “Carm why Marc?” You ask. “I don’t know.” He mumbled once more.
“Thought he was kind of…close that’s all.” Carmen murmurs. You move your head back a little, looking to him confused.
“Carmen.” You said looking to him.
“What?” He asked, laughing a little.
“Nothing is going on with me and Marc.” You tell him, crossing your arms. You were clearly a little annoyed. Carmen moved back, running a hand through his hair.
“So I’m just seeing stuff?” He says a little defensively.
“Yes, you are because we were just talking and—“ Carmen cuts you off with a laugh. “Just talking.” He says mockingly.
“We were sorting out what shifts to take!” You told him. He didn’t respond and there was that look on his face, that slight smile, that told you he wasn’t taking this seriously.
“Believe me Carmen.” You spoke firmly.
“I don’t know if I should.” He tells you. Carmen had no trust in you right now.
You were his. Not Marc’s. His.
“Excuse me?” You asked as if you didn’t hear him correctly. Never once had Carmen doubted your trust.
“I said I don’t know if I should.” He says with a slight hint of remorse.
You scoff and he watches you get up and leave the room, slamming the bedroom door shut.
Carmen had never been jealous before like this, so naturally he wasn’t sure how to act. He just wanted you, to know you were close and weren’t about to leave him.
He was definitely sleeping on the couch tonight.
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yamigooops · 1 year
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good luck charm
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synopsis: when you decide to get a little cheeky and put on a cute cowboy’s hat you get a lot more than you bargained for
warnings: strangers to lovers, slight size kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, Katsuki’s a playful bastard (if there are any I’m missing let me know lmao)
length: 9.7k
inspired by an ask submitted to @kingkatsuki by @thecowboykatsuki-anon and featuring art based on the same idea by @jozstanko-art​ we’re all just whipped by this fucker and want to put his hat on and have him fuck us silly
Rodeos weren’t particularly your thing, considering you had grown up in the suburbs your entire life. College had introduced you to people who had grown up with lifestyles contrary to your own, including your best friend Mina, who had grown up in a small rural town. Where she had grown up everyone knew each other, and things like farms and town fairs and rodeos were commonplace among the population.
So, when she invited you to one of said rodeos after your junior year had ended you were intrigued enough to oblige. She had told you about them for the past three years, and you were somewhat curious after all the hype she had placed on them. So about two weeks after the semester ended you found yourself in her hometown. It was a small town, with a main street that consisted of about three blocks of bars and independent shops that provided everything from boutiques to ice cream parlors.
As the day approached dusk on your summer vacation you found yourself at the main fairgrounds for the (apparently monthly) rodeo and trying not to entirely mentally check out. You genuinely had no idea what was going on, despite the fact that Mina had spent the hour and a half drive from your university apartment to her childhood home explaining everything that happened at a rodeo. All you could grasp was that there were three events and which ones her friends competed in. One competed in two, while another competed in the other.
The third friend competed in all three events and was recognized area-wide as exemplary in all of them, and by the way Mina described this man he was incredibly attractive. So, you spent your free time on the drive imagining how this man looked. You only knew he had blonde, spiky hair, red eyes, and a near permanent scowl. However, considering he participated in all three of these events you had to assume he was in peak physical condition. Something about Mina’s description of him made your stomach flutter.
As she pulled into the parking lot of the arena you realized just how popular this event was. It seemed as though every person in town was here, and the parking had spilled over from the actual lot onto the field surrounding it. Once you had parked in the closest possible spot, you and Mina made your way over to the competitors’ area.
Since she knew so many of the participants the two of you were permitted past the gate reading “Competitors and staff only.” She led you through a light crowd of men and women, many of whom were decked out in full cowboy regalia. There was also the occasional horse, bull, or steer being led to their pens to await their turn on the arena floor.
Coming to a pair of young men, Mina bounced on the balls of her feet and tapped a red-haired man on the shoulder. He turned around questioningly before lighting up at the sight of your best friend.
“Well look who finally made it,” boomed the man. He towered over you, absolutely built but attractive in a big puppy kind of way. His smile was infectious, and as he pulled Mina into a bear hug, you found yourself smiling as well.
“Eiji, I missed you so much!” Mina practically jumped onto her friend, her arms clinging around his neck. So, this must have been Kirishima. Now that you heard his name you could recall several stories Mina had shared with you about the red-haired giant. She had also shared with you, in confidence of course, that she’d had the biggest crush on him since middle school, but never worked up the courage to ask him out.
“Missed you too,” he murmured, his face buried in her neck. If you didn’t know any better, it would have looked like the two were already dating. The thought had you chuckling, as it was quite obvious that Kirishima felt the same way about Mina. You supposed it was probably easier to see as an outsider.
“God, get a room, will ya?” came a gruff voice from behind the pair. You shifted your attention from the closeted lovers before you to the man standing just behind them. Sure enough, based on Mina’s description of him, you assumed it was Bakugou Katsuki. Only he was so much more attractive than you had expected. His garnet eyes were piercing as they moved from Kirishima and Mina over to rest on you, and you found yourself blushing and looking away under his intense gaze. “And who are you?”
“Oh, guys this is my best friend and roommate Y/N,” Mina supplied, releasing Kirishima from the chokehold she had him in and moving back to your side to prompt you forward. “She finally agreed to come see you guys compete!”
“Wow, that’s awesome. Thank you so much, and it’s nice to meet ya,” grinned Kirishima as he held out his hand to shake yours. He was the picture of gentlemanly perfection, and you found yourself instantly drawn toward him.
“Absolutely, I figured I should come see what all the hype is after this one talked it up so much for three years,” you chuckled and gestured toward your pink-haired friend. “She talks about you guys all the time.”
“Better be good things,” grumbled Bakugou, crossing his arms over his chest. The action had his black, green and red plaid shirt pulling tight over his biceps and chest, drawing your attention to the rest of his physique. His thighs were massive, though you supposed that was from years of training to ride bucking animals. His leather chaps had imagery of explosions down the sides, and flared out at the ends along with his dark jeans to accommodate his leather cowboy boots. Atop his head sat a well-loved black cowboy hat, beneath which his spikes of ash blonde hair peeked.
“Oh, only the best. I hear that you guys are some of the best riders around,” you nodded. His slight scowl didn’t budge, and in that moment, you decided you’d make it your goal to get him to smile by the end of the night.
“Aww, thank you Mina,” Kirishima crooned, throwing his arm around the smaller girl.
“Of course, I’d say good things, ya doofus. You guys are my best friends.” Mina’s cheeks were darkening from the proximity to the “love of her life,” as she had put it so many times. 
You chuckled, watching as the childhood friends caught up with one another. There were two more that joined, named Sero and Denki, and as the conversation continued and the crowd shifted, you found yourself shoulder-to-shoulder with Bakugou after a while. You chimed in every once in a while, but mainly let Mina catch up with her friends. Bakugou seemed to have a similar approach to the conversation, watching as Mina and Kirishima cluelessly flirted and teased one another. 
“Are they always this oblivious?” You kept your words quiet as you directed them toward the blonde beside you.
“Those two have been doing this shit for years,” he sighed. “We keep tryin’ to get em together, tell them that they’re into each other, but they’re about as dense as two blocks of concrete.”
You snorted, “Must be exhausting having to watch that for so many years.”
“You ain’t got a clue.” He let out a puff of air through his nose, and when you peeked up at him through your lashes, you realized it was a chuckle. There was a shadow of a smile on his lips, and you felt your chest glow with pride at having gotten even that out of the stoic man.
“You should smile more,” you said teasingly, bumping your shoulder against his, though it was admittedly more against his bicep than anything.
“That a command, little missy?” He turned those burning eyes on you once again, and you felt something tighten deep within you. Feeling a surge of confidence roll through you as you captured his attention, you reached up and plucked his hat off his head before plopping it down on your own. It was warm and smelled like his shampoo, something deep and spicy. His lips slowly slid into a sly grin as you tilted your head back slightly more than before to be able to see him under the brim of it.
“I think it suits you,” you shrugged, grinning playfully up at him. “Makes you look a little less bullish.”
As you held his gaze for a few more moments, you slowly registered that the conversation around you had quieted. Breaking away from the intensifying exchange, you found the rest of the group skeptically watching your exchange.
“What is it?” You asked Mina worriedly, hoping you hadn’t done anything wrong.
“N-Nothing, it’s just that Kats is kinda protective of that hat,” Kirishima supplied after a moment of hesitant silence from Mina. “Doesn’t usually let people wear it. Says it’s lucky or somethin’.”
So, you had messed up.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! Here you-” You scrambled to take off the hat and hand it back to the man beside you. However, before you could put it back on his head, he grabbed your wrist and held it, drawing your slightly panicked attention.
“No worries,” he drawled, that sly smile still gracing his lips. “You should wear it during my ride. Wouldn’t want to get it dirty, right?”
“Kats, man,” Kirishima started, a cautious tone to his voice.
“I couldn’t, not if it’s lucky��� I thought this competition decided if you went to that big championship or whatever,” your voice trailed off as he eased the hat from your fingers, holding it by the top as he slowly placed it back on your head.
“Then you be my good luck charm, ‘kay?” His hand still gripped your wrist, his skin hot and calloused but his hold gentle and strangely… loving?
“Dude, he never even lets us touch that thing, much less wear it,” whispered Denki to Sero off to the side. That tightening in your core grew as you could only nod.
“O-Okay,” you breathed, knowing you probably looked like a deer in headlights right in that moment. He let the hat go with a gentle shake to your head before releasing your wrist as well.
A tense moment of silence passed before a booming voice cut through and announced that the events would be starting soon and that competitors should head to their places. Blinking a few times to try and focus on anything but the blonde cowboy before you, Mina took your hand and told the others to do their best and approximately where the two of you would be sitting. You dazedly wished them all luck before following closely behind Mina to your seats
As the events began, you couldn’t get that moment out of your head. It didn’t help that the outcome of it was literally sitting on top of it the entire time in the form of a black cowboy hat, but when Katsuki came on for the first event you knew you were doomed. He was spectacular. The horse bucked and jumped beneath him, trying its best to eject him from his seat on its bare back. But he held strong, one hand tethering him to the animal while the other waved through the air as he moved back and forth atop the animal.
He lasted the necessary 8 seconds, along with 3 more before the animal was finally subdued by both the team of handlers and Katsuki himself. As he took in the raging crowd, waving out at the people chanting his name and cheering him on, he eventually found you, probably thanks to his hat perched proudly atop your head. You stood there cheering for him, but the heat and weight of his gaze was palpable even though you were across the arena from him.
As the next contestant moved into place, you turned to Mina with a sigh. “Alright, what gives? What’s the deal with the hat?”
Mina glanced at you hesitantly, as if she didn’t want to scare you. “Uh, it’s just a thing we say around here that you probably never knew about. It’s nothing, don’t even worry about it.”
“Well, it’s too late for that,” you groaned over the crowd. “You guys all looked at me like I made some fatal mistake when I put the hat on. Then he put it back on and everyone got all weird. So, what does it mean?”
Mina threw her head back and sighed dramatically, “Fine,” she relented. “There’s a saying that if you put the hat on you get the cowboy. That’s why we all got weird. But you obviously didn’t know about that so you don’t have to worry. Bakugou is respectful, he was probably just taken off guard, that’s all.” Mina grabbed your hand, recapturing your attention which had strayed off as you realized what you’d done. “Seriously, Y/N. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I’ll beat him up myself if he tries anything, got it? Kiri will too.”
You nodded hollowly, trying to comprehend what was happening. You get the cowboy too? Does that mean romantically? Sexually?? Sure, Katsuki was attractive as hell, and you’d been flirting when you put his hat on in the first place anyway. But would he even be interested in you that way? And besides, you’d only just met!
But as the competitions continued, the possibility of getting with Katsuki grew more and more appealing. As you watched him in the steer wrestling event you were made aware of how powerful and fast he was. As he took down the animal in just over 3 seconds, you found yourself squirming in your seat.
Then, later, during the bull riding, he impressed you even further as he held onto the enraged creature. You held your breath the entire time, hoping against hope that nothing bad would happen to him, and couldn’t hold back your sigh of relief as he made it through the event almost completely unscathed. He had only fallen on the ground after the time limit had elapsed, and for a split second you feared the animal would try to trample him. But the team of handlers quickly calmed the bull, and Bakugou made his way over to it to pat it on the head with the brightest grin on his face before they returned to the pen it came from.
It turned out he had done incredibly well in all three events, and would be moving on to the state competition taking place in two weeks’ time along with Kirishima. As you and Mina made your way back down to meet up with them after the events had concluded, you chuckled as your friend made a beeline toward the red-haired giant. This time she really did jump into his arms, congratulating him profusely as he thanked her over and over.
As those two were distracted by one another, Bakugou slowly made his way over to you. That tightness returned to your stomach, and you plastered a weak smile on your face as he stopped before you. Unable to meet his eyes, you looked down at your feet as you congratulated him.
“You were amazing out there.” You tried to raise your voice enough to be heard above the surrounding din. “Congratulations on moving on.”
Two fingers slipped beneath the brim of his hat and tugged it upward, removing the shield between the two of you as he eased it off your head. “What was that? Couldn’t quite hear ya under there.”
You met his gaze as you felt your face heat up. “I said congratulations on moving to the next round,” you huffed. He had probably heard you, but wanted to fluster you.
“Guess you really were a good luck charm, huh?”
“I know what the hat thing means,” you rolled your eyes. “Besides, it had nothing to do with luck. You obviously know what you’re doing out there.”
He let out a bark of a laugh, reaching up to place his hat back on his head. “I beg to differ,” he grinned. “Seein’ you out there in the crowd, wearing this thing, that had everything to do with why I did so well.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. You’d only met this man a few hours ago, but your attraction toward him was already so strong. Was it his looks? His personality? That damned superiority complex? Or was it something else?
“And if you’re so in the know about what wearin’ my hat means, what are you gonna do about it?” He was closer now, his voice lower and the intensity of his gaze heavier. You could feel his breath on your now-exposed face, and had to fight the urge to look away as he tilted his head slightly to the left.
“Not sure yet,” you shrugged, trying with every fiber of your being to stay calm, to sound nonchalant. Inside, however, that desire for him was burning hotter than ever, that tightness in your core growing toward an unbearable pressure. “What should I do?”
He smiled again at that. “You should let me treat ya to a drink and let me get to know ya better.” His proposal was so smooth it had you floundering for purchase as he reached up to tweak your chin between his thumb and the side of his forefinger.
This is really happening, you said to yourself. This god of a man was really asking you out for a drink, and you would be an idiot to decline, especially with that pool of need growing in your stomach.
“Sounds like a plan, cowboy,” you shrugged before reaching up. “I get to wear this though,” you smirked and lifted the hat from his head once more.
“By all means, be my guest.” He seemed to want to devour you as you placed the item on your head again, and that made your inner goddess preen with delight.
“Hey, Mina,” you called, looking over to your friend where she stood chatting with Kirishima. She looked over toward you before an expression of surprise crossed her features at the sight of you and Bakugou. “We’re going out for a drink, that okay?”
She slowly developed a wicked grin as she realized what was happening before she nodded. “Absolutely, have so much fun.”
“Thanks, I will,” you nodded. Bakugou slid his hand into yours and started leading you out of the venue, but not before Kirishima called out after you.
“For the love of god, use protection!”
Your face exploded into flames at his shouted words, as they brought numerous people's attention toward you. It didn’t help that everyone seemed to know that the hat you wore belonged to the man beside you. So, in an attempt to escape their prying eyes, you turned down your head and tried to hide behind the brim of his hat.
“Hey, don’t do that,” Bakugou chided as you neared the exit. “I want ‘em to see how pretty you look in my hat.”
“You’re not helping,” you hissed, wishing people would stop whispering about how they’d never seen you around and how surprised they were to see someone wearing Bakugou’s hat.
He simply chuckled beside you as he led you toward his pickup truck. It was ginormous, and he had to help you up into the passenger’s seat. But once inside and when he had turned the air on, you found it was far comfier than your own car. It looked well-maintained and the interior was surprisingly clean, considering he was a farm hand.
“You really do look good in it,” he remarked as he pulled out of the parking lot. “But please don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to do, alright?” Though his voice was still gruff like it always was, it had a sincere softness to it that had you looking up at him instead of down at your hands. He glanced over at you as he stopped at a red light.
“Okay,” you nodded, and smiled as he reached over to flick the brim.
“I got it when I was twelve,” he stated after a few moments of silence. “Was a present from my ma. It’s by the same maker as the hat my idol wears.”
“And who’s that?” You asked the question even though you knew the name would likely hold no significance to you. It just made you happy to hear him opening up to you.
“Toshinori Yagi. People called him All Might because of how good he was. The guy’s a rodeo legend. Set the world record for most time on bull-back, and the fastest steer takedown. It’s my goal to break those someday.” He looked out on the road ahead of him with a faraway look in his eyes. There was a wistfulness to his voice as well, and you knew that this hat really did mean the world to him.
“I think you can do it,” you said softly, despite your lack of knowledge.
He smirked, looking at you briefly. “Ya barely know the first thing about rodeo. How do you know I can break those records? They were set over twenty years ago, and people have been trying ever since. What makes you think I can do it?”
“You seem like a really tenacious guy,” you shrugged. “Like you fight for what you want and don’t give up till you get it.”
“Well, you aren’t wrong there, I’m definitely tenacious. My friends would probably call it bull-headed, but I like your description better.” He was quiet for a moment before he tentatively reached out to brush his fingers against the back of your hand, like he was asking permission. You looked up at him, only to meet his red gaze, made even redder by the glow of the red light he stopped at.
Taking a breath in through your nose, you eased your hand over and let him thread his fingers through yours. You hadn’t really registered how warm he was when he’d been holding it earlier on the way out, but in the quiet and intimate space of his truck you were honed in on the feeling of his calloused skin against yours. This was his riding hand, the one he used to keep himself from being flung from the backs of enraged animals. It was probably strong enough to break your own smaller hand, but the care with which he held it astounded you.
“I’ve gotta admit, I’ve heard about you from Mina,” he offered as the light switched to green. “Was kinda lookin’ forward to meetin’ ya.”
“Well, I hope I didn’t disappoint,” you laughed nervously. Sure, you’d heard about him, but he had turned out to be so different from what Mina had described. She had told you about a man with anger issues who sucked at making new friends and always wanted to fight others. And while he did seem to be those things, he also apparently had a softer side, one which he only showed to certain people. And you weren’t quite sure how you’d become one of those people, but you couldn’t exactly say you were upset about it.
“Course not,” he grinned. “She told me you were a spitfire, so I was lookin’ forward to having someone to jibe with. Certainly didn’t disappoint in that area.”
“Well good, I’d hate to leave a future record-holder wanting for more,” you giggled softly.
“She showed me pictures of you too,” he added almost hesitantly. “And I must say you aren’t disappointing there either.”
Your cheeks flared up at the compliment, but you fought back the urge to curl up in a ball and insist he was just being nice. “Thank you.” The words were laced with more emotion than you had originally intended, but you found you couldn’t hold it back.
There was a pause in the conversation then, as you both sat blushing in your seats listening to the thrum of the engine. His thumb began stroking the back of your hand in small circles, and you found yourself relaxing into his touch.
“Would you like to come to my place instead of a bar?” He asked somewhat suddenly. He sounded… nervous. Like he had no idea how you might respond despite the fact that you had given every indication of being romantically interested in him as well. “I mean, that way I’d be able to cook you something. You’re probably starving, right? I know I am…” His words were somewhat rushed, and they faded off at the end as he glanced over at you.
The thought of going home with him had your stomach doing flips and your heart singing in your chest. He was so attractive, and seemingly the perfect gentleman when he was interested in someone, which was something you had always wanted in a partner. And Mina had told you so many times how good of a man he was, despite his gruff demeanor…
So you nodded. “Sure, that sounds nice.”
He let out a nearly imperceptible sigh of relief and resumed stroking the back of your hand, which he had stopped while waiting for your answer. “Alright, it’ll be a few more minutes to get out there since it’s on the far side of my property. In the meantime… Tell me about yourself.”
You told him everything you could think of, about your family, what you were studying, what you hoped to do in the future. And he listened intently, making comments here and there or asking clarifying questions when needed. His attention remained on the road, which had lost its street lights back at the edge of town and was now a dark path cutting through fields of crops. They swayed in the light breeze, and you felt the urge to roll down your window and breathe in the fresh air.
And so you did. You put it down all the way and stuck your hand out into the warm night air, letting it flow between your fingers like water. As you leaned toward it, Bakugou’s grip on your other hand tightened subtly.
“You better not let that hat blow away,” he warned, and you simply smiled over at him and unbuckled your seatbelt. Releasing his hand, you held onto the brim of the hat and leaned out the window. The wind battered you and you could hear nothing else, but the way it felt through your hair and rushing over your skin felt positively divine.
You let out a loud cry of joy into the peace of the country night, atop the backing track of crickets and cicadas and beneath the light of the distant stars. Bakugou simply watched from inside the vehicle, his free hand finding purchase on your hip to stabilize you as you flung your arms out, hat clutched between your fingers. You could almost reach the corn leaves on the side of the road as you rushed past them, and you tried not to get disoriented as the world passed upside down.
As you let out a laugh of happiness, you felt the car slowing and looked in the direction you were headed. Bakugou slowed in order to turn onto a driveway, and you took that as a cue to pull yourself back into the truck, only to find him laughing.
“Your hair’s a fuckin’ mess now, idiot,” he choked out through peals of laughter. Upon inspection in the mirror you flipped down you found he was correct. You giggled at your disheveled appearance and simply placed the hat back on your head to hide it.
“There, all better!” You grinned at him as you felt his hand, which had been situated on your hip, make its way to rest on your thigh.
He simply shook his head as his laughter died down and you approached a house you could now see on a small hill. As he pulled to a stop at the top of the driveway he gave your thigh a soft squeeze and a pat before putting the car in park and hopping out. He made his way around the front and opened your door for you, helping you down until your feet met gravel.
“Welcome to my place,” he said as he led you inside. The parlor was cozy as he turned the lights on and you found that the place smelled of spices and something savory. “I’ve got a brisket slow cooking in the kitchen right now, should be just about ready.” He slipped his boots off and set them near the door, and you followed suit before accompanying him to the kitchen.
“Your house is beautiful, Bakugou,” you said softly as you looked around. It was simply decorated, but the things it did contain were all gorgeous. There were wood carvings that looked to be done by hand, and paintings here and there. It was so homey and domestic, and for some reason you hadn’t expected that from a man like him. But seeing him in the space it made complete sense. He fit into it all perfectly.
“Please, call me Katsuki,” he insisted as he retrieved two wine glasses. “Oh, I guess I should ask what you prefer. Are you a wine or beer drinker? I’ve also got some bourbon, whisky, or gin if you’d like any of those instead.”
“Wine is good, though I will say I’m normally a white drinker,” you smiled as you gestured toward the bottle of red he had out on the counter. He got a look of worry on his face, as if he’d committed some sin by bringing out red wine, and you laughed. “I’m kidding, I love a good red,” you assured him, making your way around the island in the middle of the kitchen.
“Good, dumbass, because I ain’t got any white.” He tried to look nonchalant, but there was relief clear on his face. He deftly opened the bottle and poured two glasses before handing you one. “It’s from the local winery, so hopefully you like it. Cause if you don’t then I’ll have to take it up with Sero since he owns the place.”
As you grinned at his lightly playful tone you tilted the glass to take a sip. It was incredible, the flavor spreading over your tongue and reminding you of autumn nights spent with Mina on the couch retelling stories of how your summers went while getting progressively more wine drunk. “It’s delicious,” you nodded, smiling up at him.
“Good, I’ll let him know he’s got another fan. That guy can always use an ego boost,” he chuckled, taking a sip from his own glass. He then placed it down on the dark marble countertop before making his way over to the slow cooker near the oven and peeking inside. “I’d say this has another 20 minutes before it’s perfect,” he said, mostly to himself.
“So what should we do in the meantime?” There was that tightness again at the thought of having time to kill with just the two of you. It only grew as he slowly turned back to you with a gleam in his eyes, and you distracted yourself by taking another sip of wine.
“Well, I suppose that can be up to you. What would you like to do, little missy?” He stepped back toward you and joined you in drinking from his own glass.
“Now why the need for the nickname?” You tried to sound annoyed with it, but in reality it had you clenching at the sound. “I’m not that little.”
“I beg to differ, you barely come up to my shoulder. I’d say that’s pretty little,” he smirked and patted the top of your head.
“Yeah, well I’ve got a big personality,” you defended, trying to look bigger as you rose slightly onto your toes.
“Ya got a big attitude, I’ll give ya that.” Tilting his head back, he finished off his glass of wine, and you followed suit. “Though I’d love to see how tiny you’d look on bull back. Bet you’d hardly last two seconds.” The grin on his face had your stomach fluttering and your breath shortening at the apparent innuendo behind his words.
He obviously wanted you, and you wanted him. So why were you so hesitant? It’s not like you were a virgin, you’d had several partners in the past, and had even had a few one-night stands. Was it just because of how attractive he was? How intimidating his aura was? All you could think about was having his hands and mouth all over you, having him buried inside you to the hilt and riding him like he rode his bulls. But something was holding you back, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was.
He took a step closer, leaning down to speak right into your ear. “I’d love to see how tiny you look riding me, too,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. There was a growl to his voice that hadn’t been there before, a depth that threatened to pull you under and drown you in him. And you found yourself wanting to dive into his depths, to be pulled under and never come back up for air. But you realized in that moment what was holding you back.
Fear.
Fear of losing yourself. Fear of falling in love with this man, only to leave tomorrow and never see him again. He had a magnetism to him which pulled so strongly on you that you found yourself daydreaming of leaving behind everything you’d worked so hard for to settle down with him. To be his little housewife who stayed at home and took care of the children and sacrificed her own dreams to support him and the family you’d have together
But you wanted a life of your own. Wanted to pursue your passions and make your own dreams come true. You didn’t want to settle for a life in some small town where you could never make something of yourself. You didn’t want to only be known as Bakugou Katsuki’s wife and the mother of his children. You were scared that if you let yourself drown in his depths that you really wouldn’t come back up for air, that you’d sink into the murky waters of obscurity and never be seen again.
But as he took hold of your chin again with that thumb and forefinger to tilt your head back and get your eyes to meet his, you felt more seen than you ever had before. There was a fire inside those carmine eyes that said he wanted to fight the world with you by his side. That he wanted to see you succeed in whatever you wanted to pursue, and hoped you felt the same.
So you took a deep breath and plunged in.
“I think I’d like that,” you whisper, before grabbing the collar of his shirt and tugging him down to meet you as you rose once again on your toes. His lips were just as hot as his hands as they met yours tentatively, but they were soft, and more supple than you had expected. They moved slowly against yours before his tongue peeked out and ran over your bottom lip before you granted him access. His hands came to clasp your waist while yours slid behind his neck, using it as an anchor to keep your knees from buckling.
He eventually turned you so your lower back pressed into the countertop. Then, in one swift motion, his hands slid below your ass and hoisted you up onto the counter. You hadn’t even jumped up to help him, making you realize just how strong the man you were ensnared with really was.
With this new height you were slightly above him, no longer having to worry about his hat bumping into his face. Your fingers delved into his hair, and you groaned into his mouth as he kneaded the fat and muscle of your thighs, between which he had wedged himself. He pulled you closer to the edge so your core was pressed up against his belt buckle, and you squirmed at the feeling of him slowly grinding into you.
Breaking off for air, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he softly panted. “Do I have your permission, little lady?” He spoke in a voice so soft you barely heard it.
“F-for what?” You had never been asked to have sex before, it had always just been implied once the kissing and touching had started. So it took you off guard that he would ask now that things were getting heavier.
“To fuck you, to make love to you, whichever you’d prefer. I just know that I need you, so fucking bad,” his eyes opened to look at you before you nodded, mind in a daze at the courtesy he was portraying. “I need a verbal response, little one. Can’t do with just a nod,” he grinned.
“Oh just fuck me already, you idiot,” you groaned, pulling him back to your lips. He chuckled against them, before slipping his hands back under your thighs.
“Hold on for me, yeah?” He said between kisses. You wrapped your arms and legs securely around his neck and waist, and he slid you off the counter. You assumed he would bring you to the living room where there was a comfortable looking couch. But instead he made his way back through the parlor and up the stairs with you hanging on like a monkey.
“God, so strong,” you murmured against his lips, feeling yourself growing wetter at the idea of his strength.
“Gotta be strong to be a rodeo champion,” he grunted against the skin of your neck. He made his way down a hall and into a bedroom which you assumed was his due to the dark décor and shelves worth of trophies.
He made his way over to the bed and leaned down to lay you atop the comforter. It was soft and you found yourself sighing at the feel of it against your hot skin. He released you with a final kiss, and you let your legs fall from his waist before releasing his neck with one final tug at his blonde locks. He straightened and began to undo his shirt, which had gotten dirt and dust on it from the ring but had remained in good condition. You were glad for that; the colors suited him.
“That the only reason you got strong?” You tried to put a little tease into your tone, but he seemed to see right through it to the need lying beneath as he continued to undo buttons, about two thirds of the way down. You propped yourself up on your elbows, hoping you didn’t look too desperate for hi
“Course not. Got strong so I could help others too,” he replied with a smirk. “I volunteer quite a bit in town and on the local farms when I’m not tending to my own.”
“Uh huh. Any other reasons.”
He undid the final button and pulled the shirt from its place tucked into his jeans. “Are you insinuating that I got strong so I could manhandle you?” A single brow raised sharply as he let the shirt fall from his arms to land in a pile on the ground.
“I’m not not insinuating that…” You were hard pressed to disguise the need bubbling up in your voice as you slowly scooted back up the bed to where the plush pillows lay. “All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t hurt in the bedroom.”
He looked at you questioningly, before unbuttoning his pants and climbing onto the bed above you. “Well then you’re not great at hiding your intentions,” he whispered loudly, as if his words were meant to be a secret, but he wanted to share it with the world.
“Maybe I just don’t want to be good at it. Ever thought about that?” You murmured, even as his fingers brushed against the bare skin of your waist where your shirt had ridden up, sending a shiver through you.
“Then I guess you’d be succeeding.” His voice was a true whisper now as he said the words directly into your ear, before pressing his lips to the soft flesh of your neck. He had situated himself fully between your legs, your knees bent, and feet pressed against the soft material of his comforter.
“Exactly, I’ve got you right where I wanted you.” You tried so valiantly to keep your voice from warbling, but as he kissed down the column of your neck you couldn’t help the sigh that slipped through your open lips.
“Not yet, you don’t,” he tutted against your collarbone. You screwed your brows together and opened your eyes to look down at him as he paused to get your attention. “I’ve got your permission, right little lady?” Something about the tone to his voice had your skin heating up like never before.
“Y-yes,” you stammered, remembering his need for verbal consent.
And with that, he descended.
He had your shirt up and over your head in what was probably record time, your bra following shortly after and leaving you both in nothing but your jeans, underwear, and his explosion-studded leather chaps. Everything was a whirl of touch and tongue and teeth, moans and groans replacing any lingering words either of you may have uttered.
His lips wrapped around one pert nipple, while his fingers tweaked the other one. His free hand worked its way to your jeans button, slowly but deftly undoing it. He looked and sounded like he wanted to devour you right then and there but was waiting for something. The feeling of his tongue against your skin had you moaning, and he chuckled into your skin at the sound. The hand at your waist yanked your zipper down in one swift motion, before he eased his fingers beneath the waistband of your now-undone jeans.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned, his fingers stroking your sex over your lace panties. He wasn’t wrong, you could feel the fabric cling to your folds with arousal as he made quick work of finding your clit.
“Mnh, m-more,” you huffed, grinding your hips into his hand as you searched for increased pressure.
“Now, is that any way to ask for something?” Bakugou tutted from his spot just above you, but his voice was strained with need as well, something he was decent at masking but not immune to.
“Please,” you whined, “just fuck me already.”
He chuckled darkly. “Right idea, but wrong execution. Now you’re just gonna have to wait longer.” And with that, he was gripping the waistband of your jeans with both hands and yanking downward, drawing a yelp from your lips as he rid you of the cumbersome fabric. You raised your hips to help him, not that he needed it much, before plopping unceremoniously back onto the bed.
He grinned down at you before reattaching his mouth to your heated skin. You groaned at the feeling of his lips dusting against the plane of your stomach as he made his way down your body. When he finally reached your panties, you were nearly gasping for breath. You had delved one hand into his surprisingly soft locks, allowing yourself to stroke them like you wanted to stroke a different part of his body, but you weren’t quite there yet.
He slipped his fingers beneath the lace which barely covered you, pulling it down your legs with what could only be considered reverence before tossing them to the ground somewhere behind him. The way he looked at you when you were completely bare before him had you wanting to cover your face as it burned beneath his gaze.
“What a beauty,” he murmured, before kissing the skin just above your core. “Betcha taste even better than you look.”
Then you were being devoured. His tongue quickly found your clit as his breath was hot against your pussy, making you squeal in pleasure. He varied his technique, switching from flat, languid strokes that had you moaning to pointed, quick circles which had your toes curling. When he slipped a finger inside, you nearly lost it. The combination of stimulation and penetration was driving you closer and closer to the edge, and it was driving you crazy.
“K-Katsuki,” you groaned, fingers tightening in his hair as you felt your stomach tightening.
“I know, sweet girl,” he replied, words muffled as he continued to eat you out. He added another finger to keep up the stimulation as his mouth was partially occupied by his words, though they were muffled by your folds which he kept constant contact with, whether through tongue or lips. “You’re doing so good for me. Just a little longer.”
His constant licking and kissing on your clit, and the curling and scissoring of his fingers deep inside you had your thighs coming up to close around his head as your own was thrown back on the pillow. Katsuki moaned loudly against your core at the pressure, sending a new wave of pleasure rushing through you that almost had you bursting at the seams.
Then he did something you weren’t expecting. He ran his top teeth ever so lightly along your heat, stopping just before your clit as you cried out desperately. At the same time, he curled his fingers right against the gushy spot inside you which so few lovers had found before. Perhaps one or two had managed to hit it, but the combination of sensations had you falling apart within seconds.
“F-fuck! Katsuki,” you nearly screamed, tugging on his hair so hard he groaned at the feeling. You came harder than you ever had from oral sex, and he loved every second of it. He lapped up every drop that escaped before pulling his fingers from the sheath of your body. Directly after those same gooey fingers were slipped into his mouth and sucked clean of your essence.
“Damn, you taste divine Y/N,” he sighed, crawling atop you and pressing his lips gently to yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue as it ran along your teeth, strong and earthy and slightly sweet. He wasn’t wrong.
Your chest heaved as your hands came up to unsteadily undo his belt. They fumbled slightly, and he chuckled before standing again to quickly undo both that and the button of his jeans. Pulling them down, he stood before you, unabashed and glorious in his nakedness. His length and girth had you swallowing thickly as you readjusted on his bed, moving back to lay against the pillows.
“You’re staring,” he chuckled, lifting a knee to free his foot from his pants and briefs to place it on the bed near yours.
“Am I not supposed to appreciate what’s in front of me? When you look like that?” You smiled, trying your best not to let your voice quiver with leftover ecstasy and anticipation. Kicking his other foot to free it from the fabric clinging to him, he made his way up the bed, body lithe and solid between your legs as he came to cage you between his muscular arms.
“Then I guess by that logic I’m allowed to stare as well?” His voice was soft and low as he leaned down to press his lips to yours. He threaded his fingers through your hair, which still held the remnants of the wind-swept knots, and you sighed at the feeling. You tried not to lose yourself in the feeling of his rock-hard length coming to rest on your lower stomach, but your hips reflexively lifted slightly off the bed to grind against it.
“Patience,” he murmured against your mouth, his hand slowly making its way down from your hair along the curves of your naked body to rest on your hip, which he eased back down onto the comforter. “Let me treat you right.”
His words had you tightening once more. The idea that such a gentleman had taken an interest in you, and after so little time together, had you nearly vibrating with need. The hand which held you down gave your hip one more squeeze before coming to grip himself. The low grunt that slipped from his lips had your stomach doing flips before he eased the tip into your folds.
He ground his length through the slick which had gathered there, taking his time to make sure he was fully coated in order to ensure not only his own enjoyment but yours as well. So many of your lovers in the past hadn’t been considerate enough to do that, hadn’t taken into consideration your pleasure and only focusing on their own, that the action made your heart ache with desire.
Once he slipped through your heat with no resistance, he lifted his face from where it rested against your neck to look at you. “Are you ready?”
Your voice caught in your throat as desire and passion threatened to choke you. All you could manage was a nod and a wordless, desperate moan. Thankfully, he was losing himself to desire as well and took that as permission to continue, because you didn’t think you would have been able to form a coherent response in that moment even if he had demanded it.
Nodding, he placed his free hand on your inner thigh to spread your legs slightly farther apart. Looking down at the spot where the two of you met, he guided his cock to your entrance and slowly pushed inside. The sound you released was one of pure ecstasy, and he followed suit with a groan that had your toes curling. He moved carefully, pausing as he was halfway inside to not only give you a moment to adjust, but to give himself a chance to take a deep breath before continuing. The feel of your tight walls constricting around his fat cock and the way you looked and sounded beneath him nearly had him coming undone, and he couldn’t look bad in front of you now.
“Shit, so tight princess,” he muttered through gritted teeth. His brows were drawn together in a look of pleasure so attractive it had your core tightening even further as he resumed his plunge into your core. The breathy moans and soft mewls of pleasure spilling from your lips had him even more eager to really start pounding into you, but he had to fully submerge himself first. Leaning back, he looked at the way you sucked him in, and he used the fingers that were previously wrapped around his cock to come draw tight circles around your clit.
“F-Fuck, Kats,” you moaned sweetly, eyes unable to keep from screwing shut as he bottomed out, pelvis resting soundly against you as you wriggled your hips experimentally against his. The feeling of his pubic hair against your sensitive core, along with his calloused thumb directly against your clit had one of your hands coming to grasp his forearm while the other tangled in the sheets by your head.
“That feel good, little one?” Katsuki’s voice was slightly strained as he pulled out slightly and pushed back in. You couldn’t stop the almost pitiful sound that slipped from your throat as you nodded vigorously. He chuckled shortly, seeming to have a hard time getting out coherent thoughts himself. “Can I move a little more?”
“P-Please,” you begged, needing more: more movement, more stimulation, more friction. More of him.
“Then hold on, ‘kay?” He came to situate himself above you once more, leaning on one elbow as his thumb remained glued to your clit. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers threading through his hair, before he began to move.
It was slow at first, almost gentle, as he tested to see how far he could go. Each time he increased the speed or pressure with which he moved, you craved more, cried out louder. It was a gradual increase, but soon his headboard was banging against the wall and your tits were bouncing and the wet slaps of his balls against your ass were accompanied by cries of pleasure that spilled freely from your lips. His teeth sank into the flesh of your neck as he groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest which was pressed against your own.
“Katsuki!” His name fell like a prayer from your lips as you neared your climax once again, and the sound of it had him following suit. But he’d forgotten a condom, forgotten to use protection in the heat of the moment with someone he’d met only that day. So, he’d hold out. He wouldn’t ruin this moment by making you worry. He would make this perfect.
His years of training and fit physique came in handy not only for the rodeo, but, as you’d insinuated, for lovemaking as well. He used those powerful thighs to drill into you, those muscular arms to not only hold himself up but to bring your chest up to his as well, the arch of your back making him hit even deeper than before. Your moans and cries had only grown louder and more explicit as he continued, and soon he had you falling apart beneath him.
“Fuck!” You couldn’t hold back a scream as the coil which had grown so infinitely tight within you snapped, and you came harder than you ever had before. Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes as your vision went white, and your breath stilled in your chest, trapped by your constricted throat as Katsuki fucked you through the best orgasm of your life.
He grew quiet above you, and as your vision returned, you saw he had his eyes trained on you with more focus than ever before, all while his jaw clenched so hard you worried for his teeth. He pulled out, collapsing on his back beside you as his erection stood tall and flushed against his stomach.
“W-What are you doing?” You asked with a shaking voice, trying to catch your breath as you turned onto your side.
“Fuckin’ forgot a condom,” he forced through those tightly gritted teeth, before taking his length in his hand and starting to pump it.
“So?” You raised yourself onto one elbow to look down at him.
“I can’t ruin this by making you worry about that,” he admonished, breath growing even shorter as he closed his eyes forcefully.
“I never said you should stop, Katsuki.”
He froze at that, eyes flying open as he looked at you in surprise. The words had spilled from your lips before you could stop them, taking you off guard as well, but you didn’t make any move to take them back. You eased your fingers around his length, replacing his own calloused ones before shifting above him, thighs coming to straddle his own.
“Y-You said you wanted to see how I’d look riding you, right?” Your voice was soft, but excited. His hands hesitantly came to grip your waist as you lifted yourself to hover over his cock. “Then why don’t I show you.”
With that, you lowered yourself onto him. He slipped inside, aided by your creamy release which still coated your insides and the apex of your thighs. You couldn’t help the sigh that fell from your lips as you came to sit atop his thighs, and the groan that he released had you tightening for the third time that night, much to your surprise. You were lucky to get even one orgasm with your past lovers, much less two. Three? That had never happened before. But you were eager to see if this god of a man could make it happen.
“Dammit, Y/N,” he muttered, his hips thrusting up into yours as his grip on your hips tightened. “Think ya might kill me at this rate.”
“Well, you can’t do that,” you huffed, moving atop him as you placed one hand on his stomach to steady yourself. It was solid, a wall of muscle which had you clenching around him at the feel. “You’ve got a championship to win.”
He chuckled beneath you, the sound choked and breathless as you ground down into him. “And you’ll-” He broke off with a moan that had you grinning above him. “You’ll be there, right? Need my g-good luck charm, after all.”
“You gonna get me front row seats?” Your over sensitive cunt squelched as your chest heaved. This man was really about to get you to cum three times in a fucking row, wasn’t he?
“Darling, I’ll get you pit tickets if you want ‘em. Y-You can watch from the damn sidelines if you’ll just be there.” One of his hands made its way up your side to come and cup your breast, thumb circling your pebbled nipple as the other hand gripped your hip so hard you were almost sure it would leave finger-shaped bruises.
“F-Fuck!” You cried as he thrust particularly hard, nearing his climax as you leaned down to kiss him fervently. Your thighs burned and your breath came in shallow pants as you neared your own end, falling over the edge as he gave one final push upward, hips pressing up off the bed as he came hot and hard in your soft, warm insides. You fell apart moments later, hardly anything left within you but cries of pleasure and a clenching core that had him pumping you full of more release than he’d ever given before. 
It felt right, like you’d found a piece that you hadn’t even known was missing. As you collapsed atop his heaving chest, buried your face in his neck, let your fingers trail over his skin and through his now damp hair, you felt more at peace than you ever had. As his hands soothed over the areas he had gripped so tightly, as his lips pressed feather-light kisses along your hairline, he realized that maybe he really had found his good luck charm.
Maybe that hat was just meant to bring the two of you together all along.
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age gap and daddy kink with jake?! maybe human scientist and jake becomes obsessed with how small she is and he has her call him daddy all the time, even in front of others 🤭🫣
😩😩😩😩😩😩
The reason Jake had initially been drawn to you was because of how much you reminded him of Earth. Sure, he had many unpleasant memories about the place, but he also had some pretty amazing ones. And you, with your young, soft human body, less than half his size, almost fifteen years younger, your pretty little ribbons in your hair, the little skirts you wore—it drove him insane.
Part of him was just allured to you. He couldn't stay away.
He made his every intention very clear, with his every visit to the lab, his flirtatious touches on your back, your face, your thighs. He liked to flirt with you, like to make you blush, liked to toss in a dirty joke every now and then just so he could see you get all flustered over it.
It was pretty obvious you were into him as well. No surprise there, he'd pulled every trick in the book in hopes to catch your attention. And it had payed off.
Not a month after you two meet, Jake decides to visit you at the lab one night. He's surprised to find you all alone in your bedroom, curled up on the bed as you read, wearing a thin tank top and a pair of tiny shorts for pajamas.
He smirks at himself as he playfully knocks on the doorframe. You glance up, smiling softly when you see him.
“Jake,” you say, surprised. He can hear your heart begin to race, it makes him grin a cocky, sleek grin. “I wasn't expecting you.”
“I can tell,” he chuckles, his eyes studying your body, your thighs bare beneath your shorts, your nipples poking against your top. He doesn't even bother to hide it; he makes a show out of looking you up and down, his cock twitching when you blush and squirm under his gaze.
You stand from your bed, arranging your hair, licking your lips nervously before asking, “Do you need anything?”
Jake shakes his head, stepping into your room, towering way over you, his eyes still staring at you. “Just wanted to see ya, kid.”
Your blush deepens, obviously flattered and flustered. “Oh?”
Jake closes the bedroom door and walks past you, moving to sit on the bed, and he just studies your bedroom. Everything smells of you, everything is just so you...it makes something inside of him grow warm and also...a tad predatory, feral with the need to make you his.
“I been thinkin' 'bout you lately,” he admits, meeting your curious gaze. “Kinda hard to get a pretty thing like you outta my mind.”
You laugh, bashful, eyes darting to the floor, as you question, “What do you mean?”
Jake smiles, reaching for you, his huge hands grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to him. You swallow, eyes growing wide, your breath hitching.
“Jake?” you question, pretty doe eyes fluttering down to his lips for a split second before you meet his gaze again.
His smirk grows. “C'mon, kid,” he chuckles. “Y'know I want ya. I've made it real fuckin' obvious, hm?” He leans closer to you, his breath fanning across your face. “The only question is if you'll have me.”
You raise an eyebrow, coy. “You're not wondering whether or not I want you?”
Jake laughs softly. “I know you want me, darlin'. I can smell it. I've been smelling it for weeks now.”
You look surprised for a split second before your expression turns embarrassed, and you smile at him gently. “Touché.”
Jake's eyes are having a hard time staying on your face. Your lips are just so close, so ready for him to kiss...
“Well?” he asks. “Are you going to stop me?”
You lick your lips, glancing away from him nervously. One of his enormous fingers taps you under your chin to make you glance up at him. “Hm?” he insists.
You shake your head. Breathlessly, you say, “I'm not gonna stop you.”
Jake smirks as he effortlessly picks you up and places you on his lap, his humongous thigh rubbing against your pussy through your shorts.
You gasp softly, placing your little hands on his shoulders. Jake's hands splay over your hips, rocking you front and back against the hard muscle of his thigh. Your nails dig into his shoulders, eyes widened as you watch him.
Jake licks your jaw and then kisses down your neck. He loves how tiny you are compared to him, how he's a whole lot fucking taller, a whole lot fucking stronger, a whole lot fucking bigger.
You feel like a rag doll in his grip, something he could just toss around and use, something so fragile and delicate in his rough, calloused hands.
Something he shouldn't have. Something too young and innocent and sweet for him. And yet, there's nothing stopping him from ruining you. So, he plans to do just that.
Ruin you. Make you his. His, his, his.
The mere idea has his cock hardening under his loincloth. It pokes against your thigh, and the feel of it—so large, so fucking enormous—makes you gasp.
Jake chuckles at your surprise, rubbing his massive hands on your thighs to soothe you. “It's okay. Relax, kid,” he says. “Nothing has to happen, alright?”
You meet your eyes with his, your gaze dark and sultry. “You're not gonna put it inside?” you question, sounding disappointed.
Jake raises an eyebrow. “I don't think it'll fit in you, hon,” he tells you, fingers squeezing your thighs.
“But I want it inside,” you complain, making pretty puppy eyes at him. “Please?”
You're 22, Jake can't help himself. It's the fact that you're so young, that you can be so naive, that you're giving him the chance to corrupt you...He smirks. “'f you call me daddy, I might consider it, sweet.”
You blush softly, heart racing, but obey nonetheless. “Please, Daddy,” you say, and Jake's eyes flutter shut at the way the word leaves your pretty mouth.
“Goddamn,” he groans, bouncing his thigh against your pussy, making you gasp quietly. “Yeah, 'm definitely going to put it inside.”
He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he ignored the chance to fuck you and have you call him daddy.
He lifts you from his lap and places you on the bed. He undresses you, revealing your tits as he pulls your top off, then exposing your pretty pussy as he tugs your shorts away. He's delighted to find you're wearing a pair of pretty pink lace panties, tiny and soft, and his cock twitches at the sight.
“You got lube 'round here, darlin'?” he asks you as he curls his hands around your thighs, pushing them open before he leans his face into your pussy, inhaling your sweet scent.
You arch your back, gasping softly, and say, “In the—in the third drawer.”
Jake kisses your lower stomach, smirking, before he gets off the bed, moving to your desk. He opens the drawer and finds not only a bottle of lube, but also a pretty rabbit vibrator.
He can feel his body aching with lust. He chuckles, grabbing both the bottle and the toy, before turning to you.
You're on the bed, legs planted against the mattress, thighs spread, as you watch him. When you see what he has in his hand, your eyes widen.
“I-I forgot I left that in there,” you admit, your gaze locked on the vibrator.
Jake's grin grows cocky, spreading over his gorgeous face, making you drip even more. He climbs on the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he says, “Have you ever used this while thinkin' of me, angel?”
You swallow, a blush spreading across your face and neck, as you nod slowly. “Yes,” you reply.
Jake slaps your thigh sharply, making you gasp. “Yes, what?”
You correct, “Yes, Daddy.”
“Much better,” he allows, studying the vibrator for a moment before turning it on. As the toy rumbles quietly in your room, you clench your thighs together, doe eyes locked on his famished gaze. He pushes your legs open and places the toy against your pussy, the vibrations purring against you through your thin panties.
You groan, biting your lower lip, and Jake watches your pretty face. He hooks a finger around the edge of your panties and pulls them off, leaving your soaked pussy bare.
He then slides the toy between your folds, making you shudder, before he slides it in, the shaft slipping into you with ease, the little ear pressing against your clit.
“Wanna make you come 'fore I stick my cock in you, girl,” he hums, thrusting the toy in and out, the vibrations muffled by your soaked pussy.
You mewl, hands digging into the bed sheets below, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Why?” you complain. “Jus' fuck me.”
Jake chuckles, simply fucking you with the toy, knowing he has to get you all nice and open if he plans on filling you up. “Trust me, hm? Trust daddy, baby.”
You nod. “I-I trust you,” you promise. “But I want your cock, Daddy. I just need you.”
“Shh,” Jake coos, kissing your calf. “I'll make it worth your while, kid.”
You nod again, allowing him to fuck you with the toy. Your pussy clenches tight around the object, your slick dripping down your thighs to the bed.
The vibrations are quick to make you weak, easily causing your pleasure to grow at a merciless rate. It has you gasping and moaning, the toy making the ecstasy coil low in your stomach.
Jake's predatory eyes are locked on your cunt, on how the toy slips inside you with ease, how your slick drips out slowly, the scent thick.
You glance down. When you see the look in Jake's eyes, a shudder slides up your body, making you moan.
He smirks at himself, placing soft, wet kisses across your thighs, licking your skin. He revels in the way you jerk at his touch, in the way you roll your hips against the toy.
“Daddy,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut. “Daddy!”
You start to tremble, the pleasure making your body quiver. Your pussy is so wet, the toy causes it to squelch as Jake fucks you with the vibrator. He drags his canines over the skin of your thigh, making you mewl.
“Fuck!” you cry, gasping. “Daddy! Please!” you beg.
“I know, girl,” Jake says, gently biting your inner thigh, making you squeal. “I know. Come for me, angel. Come for daddy.”
You whimper, back arching as the pleasure rattles your every nerve. It grows within you, stretching out all over your body, and then your orgasm crashes over you, making you mewl. You gasp, writhing, as Jake drags your pleasure out, helping you ride out your high on the toy.
You're so sensitive, and Jake just keeps the toy inside you, still turned on, which makes you cry. “No! 's too much, Daddy. Please.”
Jake chuckles softly as he pulls the toy out of you. He turns it off and then licks it, tasting your arousal.
His cock is impossibly hard, balls aching with the need to spill their load inside your pretty, tiny pussy.
He removes his loincloth which is sticky with the precum that drips from the tip of his cock. Your eyes are quick to fall to his naked body, eyes widening at his width, and his length.
You're a little nervous about it fitting, a little nervous about it hurting, but the sight of it, the knowledge of how much bigger Jake is than you makes you excited, your body already growing aroused again.
Jake grabs the bottle of lube in his hand and spills a generous amount on his cock, smearing it all over his shaft. Then he spills some on your pussy, working it around your entrance with his thick fingers.
Your eyes are wide, chest heaving and falling with each heavy breath.
Jake runs the huge head of his cock between your folds before prodding at your entrance. He holds your gaze, saying, “'f you want me t'stop, you tell me right away, kid.”
You nod. “Okay,” you reply, breathless.
And then Jake's sinking into you, his cock forcing you open. Pain rings through your body as he stretches you out. You gasp, mewling softly, little tears forming in the corner of your eyes. And then, the head of his cock pushes inside you, making you jerk, and the pain dissipates.
Jake's ears are flattened against his head, your tiny pussy so fucking tight and warm around him. “You good, sweetheart?” he asks, studying your face.
You nod gently, body rolling in search of more friction. “Deeper,” you beg.
Jake chuckles softly before he carefully sinks the rest of his cock into you. At first, you think he really won't fit. But then, slowly, your pussy stretches more, taking him—all of him. Next thing you know, Jake's hips meet yours, his heavy balls pressing against your folds.
You whimper, eyes rolling into the back of your head. He's so big, so fucking enormous. He dwarfs you, his body so much larger, his strength outweighing yours by a long shot.
Jake grabs you by the thighs and lifts you until your ass is resting on his lap. Then, he starts thrusting into you, which makes you cry out, tears of pleasure spilling from your pretty eyes.
“Fuck,” he groans, fingers digging into your soft skin. “Oh, you're so good, angel. Look at this pretty pussy, taking me like it was made for me. Goddamn.”
“Daddy,” you cry. “Fuck! 's so good!”
Jake watches you, your breasts bouncing with every thrust, your eyes shut tight, pretty tears staining down your face. You're so tiny, so small, your pussy barely able to fit him. He loves it.
“You're my good girl, aren't you?” he says, licking his lips. “My pretty girl.”
“Yes!” you gasp, trembling, his cock bruising your insides, your womb almost purring from how stuffed you are. “Yes, Daddy!”
The nickname makes Jake grunt, cock twitching inside of you. It's something about the way you say it, about how beautiful you are, about how your doe eyes don't give away a single drop of this dirty side of yours.
“So fuckin' gorgeous,” he says. The sound of skin on skin loud in your room. His balls slap against your puffy folds, making you squeal. His cock drags against your g-spot with ease, and you squirm under him. “So fuckin' perfect f'r me, kid.”
“'m yours!” you gasp, toes curling. “Daddy, 'm yours!”
Jake chuckles. “Yeah, I know you are, kid. I know you're mine,” he replies, one of his enormous hands splaying over your lower stomach, pressing down. You gasp as you feel even fuller, Jake's cock ready to sink right into your womb.
You tighten around Jake and he groans, digging his fingers into your delicate thighs, surely bruising the flesh. Under the palm of his massive hand, he can feel his cock bulging in your womb, rocking back and forth with every thrust. There's something about how dirty it all is, how you're letting him fuck you when he's almost double your fucking size, that drives him feral.
He bares his teeth, hissing in ecstasy, sharp canines showing. You peek your eyes open to look at him, and it's the way he's so fucking predatory at times, how he looks insanely feral, almost out of control that has you close to the edge.
“Daddy!” you mewl, trembling. “Fuck! Fuck!” Stars are glowing behind your eyelids, your ears are ringing, and every rough thrust of Jake's knocks the air from your lungs.
“Goddamn, 'm so deep in you,” Jake groans, your gummy walls clamping down on him. “So deep in this pretty pussy. Fuck.”
You cry out, sobbing from the bliss. “Please! Need y'to make me come!” you beg, your entire body quaking from the unbearable pleasure. It coils low in your stomach, stretching out, feeling like liquid fire that sears your womb in the best way.
“I know, kid. Imma make you come, alright?” he promises. “You're gonna come all over my cock, 'nd then I'm gonna fill y'up.”
You mewl at his words, pussy growing tighter, and Jake quirks an eyebrow. “You like that idea? You want daddy t'fill you up with his cum? Hm?”
“Yes!” you exclaim, tears blurring your vision as you try to meet Jake's gaze. “Daddy! Make me come! Please! 'm so close.”
Jake keeps his thrusts steady, placing his thumb over your clit and giving the little nub some much-deserved attention. You squeal at the sensation, the fire within you spreading all across your skin until you feel like you're going to lose consciousness. And just when you think you can't take anymore, when you feel like you're going to die, you come, squirting all over Jake. Your orgasm wrecks you, leaves you only half-awake, stars dancing behind your eyelids, black crowding at the edges of your vision.
Jake gasps softly as you come, his eyes trained on your slick that drips down his hips from your orgasm. You're so tight around him, so small and warm—
His orgasm crashes over him, making him shudder and grunt, “God fucking damn.” His load spills into you, thick ropes of cum that spurt right into your womb, his balls releasing all of his seed into your eager cunt.
You gasp at the sensation, but are too weak to do anything but lie there and take it.
As you two come down from your highs, Jake pulls out of you gently, watching his cum torrent out of you, dribbling to the bed sheets below.
Jake kisses your body softly, gently, and asks, “You okay, baby?”
You nod, breathing heavily, still too fucked out to talk.
Jake tends to you the rest of the night, massaging your muscles, kissing your skin, cleaning you up.
And ever since then, he can't stay away from you. He just about spends more time in the lab than he does in the forest. He loves taking you with him to the village. He'll hold your tiny hand in his huge one and lead you through the wonders of Pandora.
And what's more, he doesn't respond to any other nickname from you if it's not daddy. At the beginning, he settled for you calling him daddy only in the bedroom. But then, one day, it slipped out of you while you were visiting the village. Ever since, Jake insists on you calling him daddy for anything and everything.
He likes it. Likes how it emphasizes the fact that you're his. That he's the only one who gets to hold you, kiss you, fuck you, love you.
He loves that everyone can tell you're his.
Daddy's little girl.
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Not me frrrr getting carried away affff and writing like 3k words on this 🤭🤭🤭🤭
I just want to call Jake daddy, is that too much to ask?????!!!!! 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩
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@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise
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ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
could you write abt Spencer and reader finding out theyre having twins? ♥️
Morgan was thrilled to have the privilege of knowing your baby's gender before you did. You hadn't been aware of your pregnancy for weeks, attributing the morning sickness to a stomach bug that your friend had passed to you and passing off the slight weight gain as bloating. But Spencer had been surprisingly busy at work these past few months, and when you eventually realized that the last unprotected sex you'd had was around the time you'd started noticing these symptoms, you were both pretty convinced that it was an unplanned pregnancy.
It was difficult waiting to look at the ultrasound photos, and covering your eyes while the doctor checked on the health of your sweet baby was the worst part. But you wanted to announce both the pregnancy and the gender at the same time to the rest of the BAU, and Morgan was the first person you'd thought of to reveal the news. He'd been more than happy - smug, even - to be the first one to see any evidence of the little life inside of you, and he'd walked out of the doctor's office with you beaming bright enough to rival the sun.
Now, only one day after your first ultrasound, you're sitting around a table in Rossi's backyard. You're not sure how Morgan got Rossi to lend out his mansion without telling him about your pregnancy, but you suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if one more person knew. Really, you're more looking to make Garcia squeal so loud she sets off the neighbor's dog.
"Alright, alright," Derek taps his spoon against his glass. Garcia's eyes shoot over to him and she nearly jumps out of her chair, and you wonder if Derek had teased a surprise to her yet.
"There's something Mr. and Mrs. Reid want to tell you," He gestures to you, and Spencer looks to you for an introduction to the topic.
"Do you remember when I got sick a few months ago?" You glance around the table, and faces wrinkle in concern. You suppose everyone is expecting a horrible diagnosis, but they nod anyways.
"Yeah, Spence had to take off from work," JJ recalls, "Is everything okay? Did it come back?"
"Uh," You fiddle with your napkin, "No. Not really? Or- it sort of never left. And I won't be, uh, cured, for another few months."
"Was it a parasite?" Rossi wonders, brows furrowed.
"Well.." Spencer considers, "Technically? But, the good kind."
"The good kind of parasite..." Aaron repeats.
You can't stand the suspense, "I'm pregnant."
"Oh- oh!" There's a round of cheers throughout your guests, big beaming smiles and staccato claps that morph into bear hugs. Penelope giggles at the news, but you don't have time to ask if she's making fun of your sex life before Derek taps his glass again.
"Yes, okay, okay, fantastic work you two, but I'm not done."
Curious eyes turn towards him as he pulls a gift bag from beneath his seat, "I was selected to know the gender of the baby before any of you guys," He boasts, "And I've got a cute little outfit in this bag for the lucky baby."
"Let's see," You gush, "Open it, Spencer!"
Your husband's nimble fingers dig through layers of green tissue until they hit woven wool. He pulls out a blue-knit sweater vest, and his face morphs into a sweet smile.
"A boy!" He cheers, looking over at you with starry eyes, "Y/N, we're having a baby boy!"
"Oh," You gush, visions of tiny fingers and toes filling your mind, "Spencer, you're gonna be a boy dad!"
"Derek, please? Please can I do it now?" Penelope asks, effectively breaking you out of your reverie.
"Yes," Derek laughs, motioning her over to you, "Go ahead. Should'a known, patience is not your virtue."
"Shut up!" She gushes, yanking another bag from beneath her seat and racing over to you as best she can in heels on wet grass, "Y/N! A little something extra for mom."
"Oh," You gush, taking the bag from her, "You knew?"
"I needed her help," Derek explains, sorry that he'd spoiled your secret but rushing you to open the gift bag, 'Now hurry up!"
"Okay, okay!" You let out a breathy laugh, reaching into the tissue paper, "Y'know, I'm pregnant, you can't stress me- out..."
Your fingers hit tulle, and you pull out a pretty pink dress.
You're confused. Sure, girls can wear blue sweater vests, boys can wear pink dresses. But you'd assumed the colored clothing items pertaining to a gender reveal party would be fitting into more traditional gender roles for the sake of symbolism, and leave you with answers, not questions.
"Penelope?" You raise an eyebrow at her, and she grins gleefully at you.
"Twins!" She shrieks, "You're having twins! One boy, and one girl!"
Spencer drops the sweater in his hands.
"Twins," You repeat, mouth slowly falling open, 'Oh my god, there's two?"
"Twins," Spencer parrots, looking at your stomach with a growing grin, "Twins? There's two babies?"
"There's two babies," Penelope gushes, and Derek hands over an envelope of ultrasound photos, "You're gonna have two babies!"
"Three days ago we didn't even know there was one," Spencer marvels, and your hands tremble as you pull out the photos. There, clear as day on the grainy photo, are two outlines, one baby on the left and the other on the right.
"Oh my god," Spencer whispers, reaching over to brush his slender fingers over the photos, "Those are our babies."
"Those are our babies," You repeat, tears budding in your eyes, "Spencer, we're having twins."
"Congratulations, you two," JJ smiles sweetly at you from across the table, and Hotch and Rossi offer you similar well-wishes, "So Spencer, you're gonna put together two cribs?"
"I don't think it'll be safe for me to put together one," He remembers the time he'd tried fixing your broken kitchen chair, and your poor cat had made the mistake of jumping onto it. Needless to say, that incident produced not only a pile of wood, but an angry cat.
"I'll do it," Morgan chuckles, "I want both of your babies to make it into adulthood."
"And I'll buy two times the presents," Penelope promises, "But if they're anything like Reid, I might need help affording the two teeny tiny microscopes."
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uncouth-the-fifth · 12 days
Text
good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader
read it on Ao3.
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Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!
At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.
Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.
Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.
But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.
Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.
You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—
Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?
You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?
The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.
Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.
You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.
She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.
For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.
You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.
Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—
Keys rattle just outside the front door.
First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.
Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.
You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”
“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.
If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.
“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.
You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”
Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.
Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.
He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?
Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.
“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.
Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.
He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”
Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.
You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.
One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—
“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”
—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.
With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.
Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.
One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.
“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”
You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”
Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”
Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.
“My smart girl,” he hums.
Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.
“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.
His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.
“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.
It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.
This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.
You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.
You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.
With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.
You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”
Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.
Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”
You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”
A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”
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wasawattpadkid · 1 year
Text
Housewife
Part - 7
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,
Part 1
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It was the sleepover you never had. Although there was no pillow fights and a little too much Tom Cruise, you had the best time you've had in a while. "God you sound like Billy." Sydney laid back in her bed toying with her hair nervously. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be hateful. It's not just scary movies either, you haven't seen any classics?" Tatum snickered throwing her stuffed animal in the air, catching it as it fell back down. "Well you haven't seen any new movies. It's like for the past 6 years you've been locked in grandmas basement."
"Maybe you're right." You sat on the floor organizing your bag. "Do you have any songs or movies you like that your dad or someone else in your family doesn't like?" Sydney asked genuinely curious. You thought about it for a second but your silence answered the question for them. "You've been totally brainwashed babe." Tatum quipped in a way that made you feel a little ashamed. "Y/n there's nothing wrong with liking the things you do, but you should be doing it because you like it and not because someone else does."
"Yeah you need to take notes from Syd here. She is thee feminist. Billy and her have been dating for over a year and she still hasn't slept with him." The brown haired girl looked upset at her friend's honesty. "What'd I say wrong? I wish I could do what you do. I know If I left Stu to his own devices he would just find someone else to help him out." You looked to the floor ready to throw up at a moments notice. That's what this was. You weren't special. Billy took an interest in you because he thought you would put out unlike his girlfriend. "Y/n?"
"I should break up with my boyfriend." You said flatly, all the moisture from your mouth disappeared at the realization. "Huh?" Sydney asked confused by the switch up but Tatum however was your number one cheerleader. "Hell yeah kick that bastard to the curb! What did he do?" Dylan wasn't even that good of a boyfriend back home you weren't sure why he wanted to keep things long distance. This whole discussion though made you want to change some things. "He still lives back home and I just really want to start over now."
You rang up your boyfriend and called it quits. The yelling on the phone was a surprise but Tatum quickly took the phone from you saying something you weren't really sure you were allowed to repeat. Sleeping in a house that wasn't your's was hard especially when you kept thinking about the two men you knew a little too well. Sunday morning was a blur, it consisted of cereal, the news going on about the murders, and school gossip. Eventually you and the girls made it back to Tatum bedroom.
"Hello you must be Y/n." The cop held out his hand for you to shake, which you did. "I'm Dewy." He said. His awkward presence was somehow comforting. "Ew dipshit don't flirt with my friends." Tatum complained making Sydney crack a smile. Red sprinkled his cheeks as he tried to defend himself. "You're fine. It's nice to meet you, Dewy. So you're a cop?" You point to the badge just trying to make conversation. "Here we go." Tatum whispered and Dewy smiled. "I'm actually a deputy." He tapped his badge with pride.
"He's just like Arnold Schwarzenegger... In kindergarten cop." Tatum made fun of him again almost making you crack a smile. "I think it's cool." He looked over at Sydney noticing her quietness. "How are you Syd?" She nodded with a fake smile. "Yesterday was hard so today has to be better." Dewy nodded. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandparents." Tatum's brother looked at you as he spoke. The word "grandparents" made you look up. "Oh um... Thanks." You weren't quite sure what the appropriate response to that was. "I'm going to use the bathroom." You excused yourself leaving the three of them together.
"Why would you bring that up?" Tatum scolded. "What happened to her grandparents?" Sydney asked. Dewy leaned on the door frame looking down the hallway making sure you were out of ear shot. "They committed suicide together. Both of them took a handful of sleeping pills, and she found them." The two girls felt bad hearing the information. Tatum remembered a commotion happening at the house down the street but she never knew what exactly had happened. Just that you moved in shortly after.
You walked back to the bedroom once you dried your face off from the water you threw onto your skin. "Well I've got to get going. Do you girls need anything?" He asked and everyone said no. Dewy left with a wave shutting the door behind him. "Sorry he's not very socially aware." Tatum apologized but you just nodded. "It's fine. Really." They didn't believe you but they dropped the discussion anyhow.
The day went on with Tatum doing your nails and trying on half the clothes you brought over. You offered Sydney to join in but she declined. Later on you and Sydney talked about what books you had read which Tatum was not interested in at all. It was much harder keeping them two entertained than it was with Billy and Stu. There didn't seem to be much common ground between the girls. You slept much easier than the night previous. Maybe you were finally settling in.
"Wake up girls." Tatum's mom beat on the door making everyone but Tatum jump up. You groaned as Sydney went to wake up her friend. You pulled a pair of bell-bottoms from your bag along with an old band shirt. It wasn't what you'd normally wear to school but you didn't have the time nor energy to doll yourself up. "I like the grunge look on you." You felt partially offended by Tatum's compliment because there was nothing "grunge" about your look. The outfit consisted of jeans, a shirt, no makeup, paired with hair you hadn't had the chance to fix.
"You look comfortable." Sydney chirped meaning well. Their back handed compliments made you want to crawl in a hole. You sat down with the girls in the kitchen, quickly eating breakfast before Dewy came to take you to school. You offered to just get your car but Dewy refused saying he was fine to drive. The thought about skipping the day completely had crossed your mind multiple times.
The moment the car stopped at school you said goodbye to your friends. "I've got to go grab some things from my locker I'll catch you at lunch." You didn't give them time to protest. Unfortunately for you Stu was at your locker waiting patiently for your appearance. "Yo Betty Crock- Pants?" You weren't in the mood for either one of their antics. "You look lovely today." He said like a kid with a crush. Stu swayed back and forth on his heels waiting for you to acknowledge his existence. "Did I do something wrong?" You slammed your locker shut making him jump.
"I'll take that as a yes." You turned to walk away but it never did any good with Stu. "I can't fix this if you don't tell me what's wrong." You stopped, looking at him with tears stinging your eyes. "We can't do this Stu." You pulled him to the side out of everyone's way. "You and Billy are my friends." The emphasis on friends made his heart shrink a little. "I would hope so after everything-" He tried to crack a joke to make you laugh but he didn't realize you felt like the joke was on you. "Would you just listen!" You cut him off grabbing the attention of some bystanders. You waited a moment for people to pass by before speaking.
"This cannot happen. Me, you, and Billy, can no longer happen. No more hanging out at my place, no more ambushing me in public bathrooms," He smiled at that not being able to take a single thing seriously. "No more hanging around at my locker. Tatum and Sydney are sweet girls who don't deserve what we did to them. As long as they are in the picture I'm not going to be, understand?" The bottom line was you weren't a plaything and you weren't a homewrecker. Stu however took it the way he wanted to.
"I understand. I'm sorry if we overstepped." You were ready for him to get on one knee and embarrass you into forgiving him. This was a nice change. "Thank you Stu." He smiled. "Will you still hang with us at lunch?" Damnit. "No Stu, I won't. I've got to make new friends. Since day one all I've known is you and Billy. And now that I've gotten to know Sydney and Tatum, I realized I need my own thing." The bell rung ending the conversation prematurely. "See ya Stu."
"Shit, Shit, Shit," Stu repeated the word over and over like a small prayer. He walked the halls quickly finding Billy's first period class. Stu waved like a mad man trying to get his friend's attention through the window. "May I go to the bathroom?" Billy asked already getting up from his seat. "You may Mr. Loomis." The boy wasn't too happy with the sudden distraction. "This better be good." Billy started walking towards the bathroom with Stu in tow.
"Y/n is dropping us." Billy stopped in his tracks at the confession. Calmly he took a breath saving his anger for a secluded spot. He picked of his feet once again heading towards the restroom. Stu was terrified not only of losing you but also of his friends short fuse. The moment the bathroom door was locked he exploded. "What the fuck do you mean?" Billy cursed as he pushed open each stall checking for anyone. "She said it was wrong what we were doing to Tatum and Syd and as long as they were in the picture she wasn't going to be." Billy grabbed Stu's shirt by the collar. "This shit wouldn't have happened if you didn't call Sydney the other night."
He pushed his friend backwards letting Stu's back hit the wall. "How many times do I have to tell you I didn't do it man?" Billy didn't believe him. Stu was always doing something he shouldn't be. "We'll go back to our plan. Do everything exactly the same way just a little later than we hoped." Billy breathed out thinking of how to pull this off. "Syd's mom's anniversary was Saturday."
"You think I don't know that dipshit?" He pointed in Stu's face. Running his hands through his hair he tried to calm down. "Neil killed Casey and Steve on Wednesday night. That's when he told Syd he was leaving town." Stu just nodded along listening to Billy. "With all the publicity of the murders he wasn't able to kill anyone's else so he calls his daughter Friday night."
"How does he know she's with Tatum?" Billy paced back and forth. "Neil's been stalking her because she's his next victim. He sees Syd leave his house with Tatum. Anyway he scares the shit out of his daughter Friday night laying low till Monday. Ghostface will make a guest appearance today to meet Syd. Himbry will have to close shop because of the killer. You'll tell everyone you're throwing a party to celebrate the break. Invite Syd and Tatum since Y/n is such good friends with them now she'll have to go with them."
It was like watching a genius at work. Stu really believed Billy could pull it off. "Neil kills Himbry. They went to school together back in the day it could be old revenge. At the party I'll take care of Tatum first but you'll have to send her to the garage and make sure no one goes with her." Billy looked at Stu waiting for him to promise to do his job. "Yes Sir." Billy looked at his boots piecing together the rest of the puzzle. "Neil kills Tatum after that I show up to apologize for being a shitty boyfriend. I'll take Syd up to your room that's where you'll have to "kill" me. You'll grab Sydney and bring her to the kitchen. We'll reveal everything blow her daddy's brains out and then Syd is the cherry on top of a really fucked up cake."
It was a good plan in Stu's eyes. "Where does that leave Y/n?" Billy smiled "She's going to rescue us. Neil's dead and so is his daughter. We've been stabbed left for dead but poor Y/n comes along and calls the cops helping us live to see another day. All we have to do is hit her hard enough to keep her out for awhile. Which means before I show up late I'll need you to get her alone in a room. I'll show up dressed in black and knock her unconscious. You'll go back to the party and I'll show up fashionably late."
"I could kiss you." Stu said happily throwing out his arms. "Don't make me stab you early." Billy threatened. Stu's smile dropped. "Now I'm going back to class I'll see Syd later today just keep being your bubbly self. You got that?" Stu nodded happy everything was going to work out after all.
"It was just some sick fuck having a laugh." Tatum tried to convince Sydney. "She's right Syd I mean those assholes were running up and down the hallways with masks." Sydney shook her head at you sure of what she saw. "It was him. I know it." You walked down the steps right next to your friends. "From now on you are not to be alone. You pee, I pee." Tatum added. Stu ran up spouting some gibberish giving you and the girls a flower. "Darling, I don't know what you did Sydney but on behalf of the entire student body we say thank you!"
Tatum tapped her boyfriend with the flower. "Stop it Stu." She gritted trying to tone down his behavior. "You know I say," He picked Tatum up throwing her over his shoulder. The very cute display made you advert your eyes. You didn't know why you were upset this is exactly what you asked him to do. But it still somehow felt he was going out of his way to upset you.
"Impromptu party tonight, my house. To celebrate this little scare storm, what do ya say?" You and Sydney kept walking while Stu trailed behind. "Are you serious?" Sydney questioned the insane kid. "Parents are out of town." He smacked Tatum's ass causing her to sqeek with a laugh. "If this little vixen doesn't invite the whole world we'll be fine. Mix in with the gathering, mix in with friends." He sat Tatum down letting her talk to Sydney.
You watched Stu trying hard to convince Sydney to go. "What do you say Syd? I mean Pathos could have it's perks. Y/n's never been to one of Stu's parties." Tatum said dragging you into it. "I don't really have party clothes plus what if the killer is there?" You questioned. "I'll totally protect you. Yo I am so buff, I got you covered girl." Tatum laughed at her boyfriend. Sydney whined not liking the idea at all. "I mean come on Syd. For me? It could be fun." Stu proceeded to kiss Tatum's neck bringing back all too fresh memories. "Okay, whatever." Tatum squealed.
"Nice!" Stu said "Make sure you girls bring some food when you come over." Stu left you and your friends to go run off somewhere. "I think I'm just going to head home for tonight." Sydney piped up. "No way. If I'm going you have to go." You threw your head back with a groan. "I don't even have clothes for a party." Tatum spun around. "Now that I can help with."
You raised your hand in protest. "You're not dressing me up like a prostitute." Sydney smiled knowing exactly how Tatum would've dressed you. "You're no fun." Tatum teased as you walked back to Dewy's car. Sydney looked at the ground while you and Tatum discussed what you'd wear. Something wasn't sitting right with her but she wasn't sure what it was.
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(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)
Part 8
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caeunot · 4 months
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johnnie x reader
new years angst (18+)
PSA: the johnnie i'm going to write about is the fictional version we all have in our minds, we truly don't know how he actually is and it's good to make a balance to avoid any uneasy or parasocial feelings when writing about a real person.
it had been a very long night for everyone, new years party's obviously only actually get started at 12 so the night only truly ends early hours of the morning. johnnie was fast asleep on his bed, the sheets unmade as he lay on top in the full clothes from night before. as he lifted his head he felt all the drinking all the smoking all the talking from the night before rush straight to his head, like a heavy boulder he has to now carry for the next 12 hours. this isn't anything new to him but that doesn't make it any more fun to deal with.
he gets up and looks at himself in his mirror, scrunching his face as he notices how he still had his makeup on, though completely different from the way it had spread all across his face messily from lying on it. he turns on the tap and splashes himself with the cold water, waking him up but also somehow making his migraine worse.
as he starts getting changed into something comfortable he starts remembering the events from the night before, as if in pieces he has to puzzle together.
one thing that remains the most prominent in his memory is the countdown for midnight, he was excited. he had a plan. he wore his best outfit and put contour and primer on his face to make that days makeup extra fancy(he never really does that). he had been anticipating this moment the whole night, his eyes darted around looking for something specific. he squeezed past a few people pushing one slightly too hard making him have to awkwardly apologize which he hated doing. but at that moment it didn't phase him and neither did the flashing lights and the aggressive music playing a bit too loudly in the background. his mind was focused on one thing only. you
his plan was that at the moment it hit 12 he would kiss you, in his mind he decided this would be the best option since if you weren't into it he could pull it off saying it was a friend thing. he was absolutely too nervous to actually just ask you out since he personally feels you are quite out of his league. he hoped this would spark something between the two of you. so that he no longer has to look away when you laugh at his jokes because of the prominent blush that would always come up on his pale skin, or the way he had to hide his enthusiasm when you were around. he was absolutely infatuated with you.
who did you think zombie was about?
but as he finally caught his eye on you with seconds to spare he started jogging towards you but as he was about to approach you, you turn to jake cupping his face and leaning in for a deep kiss. he saw the way you smiled as jake held onto your waist. the way your kiss lasted longer than the others around the room. suddenly he jolted out of his mind as he hears a knock on his bathroom door.
fuck. he thinks to himself as he puts his hand sloppily through his hair in attempt to neaten it. "yes?" he says, still sounding half asleep.
"can I talk to you" you say, wait. you say? johnnie is confused. you don't live here, he just shares this place with jake..
fuck
he bites his lip before answering, "yeah uh just- just gimmie a min I just got up". " oh ok no problem! I'll be in the living room, take your time alright?" you say, he waits for your foot steps to sound lighter before he leans against the door and slides down to the floor, hands in his hair he curses. curses how he could so easily give someone his heart and so easily let them tear it apart, even without them knowing they did. love was fucked and he was tired and his migraine was getting worse and he just wanted everything to disappear, but as much as he would love to lock himself in the bathroom forever he was also curious what you had to say to him.
around 10 minutes later he emerges from the bathroom still rubbing his towel around his wet hair from his shower, he walks into the living room to see you scrolling on your phone and his heart immediately starts aching. before you noticed he was there he took full advantage of being able to admire you, you had no makeup on which johnnie had never seen before, but god you might look even better without it.
he admired the way your hair was slightly messed up and the way you were still in the clothes from the night before, that tight black dress that has a low v neck showing off your breasts which he realized he was obsessed with, even in a normal setting you made it work.
"so what's up?" he asks sitting down next to you on the couch. "wait first before anything can i ask you a massive favour..", "hit me" he says with a half smile, "well as u can see im still sorta in my dress from last night uh.. i maybe slept over here last night and my place is pretty far and i have a splitting headache, would it be cool if i stay at your guys place tonight too?"
"oh sure no problem we don't mind! but what about your clothes? im guessing u didn't pack any extra in that handbag of yours." you shuffle in your seat feeling a lil embarrassed, "that's my second favour.. could i borrow some of yours? well uhm not yours specifically but your the only one awake at the moment and i dont wana wake poor jake"
johnnie got a bit red imagining you in his clothes, but nonetheless lent you one of his hoodies and sweats which fit you perfectly. as you were getting changed he couldn't help when his mind slipped to the fact you never wore a bra with that dress, meaning you would be wearing one of his hoodies completely bra-less which turned him on much more than he would have hoped for, especially since the two of you agreed to go get something to eat after you get changed.
the car ride was very silent and it was freaking johnnie out a little, once you two have ordered your food and are started waiting you decide to break the silence, "if im being real, i got wayy too blasted last night like i honestly don't even remember talking to you.. at one point i wasn't even sure if you were there, but saying that i barely remember anyone i spoke to haha". johnnie lets out a small laugh, "dont worry abt not seeing me, im not a party guy i always end up lurking in the shadows like a vampire instead of making conversation." you turn your head to the window looking out at the sun as it melts like honey into the blue sky as it sets.
the two of you ended up eating in the car because you guys were so hungry. as you guys made it back inside the house you see jake facetiming someone on his phone, you sneak up behind him and shove him a little while going "BAH", which made him jump like a cartoon character. "fuck you y/n im on a call" "not my fault your a scaredy cat", "dude that's just wrong im braver than u and johnnie combined okay" you guys laugh and jake takes his call to his room, leaving you and johnnie alone again.
"i like how he didn't ask why im still here" you ask slumping onto the nearest couch. "i think you scared him too much that he stopped thinking for a sec" he said plonking himself next to you.
"you down to watch a movie?" you ask, "sure sounds good! i mean what else is there to do anyways". "perfect ill choose kay!! since im the guest i get privileges heh", "whatever makes u happy miss y/n" he says giving a genuine smile which made your heart race slightly.
the movie dragged on for johnnie, not that it was a bad movie but for the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about how close you guys sat next to each other, plus the way you were still wearing his clothes and how absolutely gorgeous you looked in them. all of a sudden you turned towards johnnie as he was staring at you by accident, the two of you sat there in silence for a little before you broke it
"uh johnnie can i be honest with you", "sure y/n, what's up". "well let me get straight to the point, by the time it hit new years.. did you see who i kissed?" johnnie tilted his head in confusion, "you kissed jake.. don't you remember?". "honestly i don't remember anything past 11pm.. when i said i was blasted i really meant blasted. well the reason im asking is because there was someone specific i wanted to kiss"
"oh really? and who was that". "it uhm was you"
johnnie felt his face start heating up and without thinking he immediately pulled your face in for a deep kiss, "johnnie.." you whisper as the kiss ended, his hands still on your face and the two of you close enough to where you could see all the pores on face and feel his cool breath against your lips.
he doesn't respond, even the kiss took him off guard and he initiated it! he realized that you reciprocated his kiss and that gave him enough motivation to lean in for another, this one was more sloppy and more intense. you two wanted each other badly and it was visible, as some tongue was slipped you climbed on top of johnnie and felt his bulge already from his thin pants. that turned you on even more and you accidentally let out a small moan.
you started to feel johnnies hands gently hold your waist from under the hoodie, you started to get a tingly feeling as he gently graced his hands higher and higher till he reached your boobs, he let out a small whimper as he gripped and played your breasts. you take your hands from his neck and instead use them to take off the hoodie itself giving him a full view of your boobs now making him gasp mid kiss.
you start grinding on him gently while taking his shirt off, once its off you slowly get off of him and pull down his pants, "are you sure?" he said shakily as he sat more forward on the couch preparing for what's coming, "you don't know how long I've wanted to do this, yes baby i'm sure" you say which made him go even redder and before you get on your knees you see him biting down an excited smile.
as you pull his boxers down you take your hand and gently rub it back and forth before taking your tongue and starting right at the base, giving a mix of wet kisses and licks as you slowly go higher and higher. when you finally get to the tip you hear a small whimper and you feel the top of your hair being grabbed desperately, you slowly put the tip fully inside your mouth moving it gently back and forth and going faster and faster deeper and deeper making his member twitch inside of his mouth and as you start hearing him moan deeply you realize he has already hit his climax and ends up finishing inside your mouth. when he was done you take your mouth off with a plop and immediately go back up to johnnies absolutely flustered face, you have never seen him look so submissive.
without hesitation you kiss him with his cum still inside your mouth, making a mess as it spills onto both of your chests.
johnnie sighs in delight "fuck y/n how did you do that" -when he knew exactly how :)
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desceros · 3 months
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INT DISCORD - EVENING @thejudiciousneurotic: i'm drawing a comic where leo talks about how he accidentally sent someone his nudes me: oh. now i wanna write a fic where leo flirts with you by "accidentally" shooting you his nudes me: ...trade u for the comic thejudiciousneurotic: 🤝 me: 🤝 leonardo/reader, female reader, rated m
You’re having a very nice lunch with April and Casey when your phone vibrates where it rests next to your plate.
neon leon (12:41 p.m.) [image]
Oh boy. What does this goober want?
Normally, you aren’t one to check your phone while eating with others. It’s kind of rude, and you don’t get enough time with the three of you hanging out like this. But April’s busy trying to make Casey laugh so hard his drink comes out of his nose, and—and you’re curious, because it’s Leo, and he’s sent you a picture.
You open the message app, and blink. It's not a meme, or a dorky selfie, or something pretty like he sometimes finds while he's wandering about and shoots your way to share.
It’s… a picture of him. The kind that he’d usually put on his So-Shell, you note, wondering why he’d sent it to you specifically. A little bit of a suggestive pose: his arms curling in just a manner to accentuate the way his arms have been getting big lately, one leg crossed over the other to show off how long they are, fingers framing that smug smirk he gets sometimes when he—
—oh.
Oh, god.
Leo isn’t wearing his mask. Or—or anything, you suddenly realize. No wraps. No socks. 
…Are these… nudes?!
Quickly, feeling your face burn hot, you look up to check in with April and Casey. They’re both still fucking around on the other side of the table. She’s tickling him, he’s giggling. Normal. Normal. They haven’t noticed that you’re a few degrees shy of combustion. Cool, cool. No one’s noticed that your best friend—friend friend just a friend!—has sent you his smoldering-hot naked body.
Quickly, you stop yourself, inhaling deep before you go too deep into it. No, that’s silly. He’s a fucking turtle. So he’s not wearing socks. Or forearm wraps. Or—Or his mask, which you’ve never seen him without before. So it’s a sexy pose in front of a mirror. It’s—It’s not anything salacious, if you don’t make it such. 
You start typing, just the usual compliment that you usually give his pictures on So-Shell, maybe a fire emoji, and—
neon leon (12:41 p.m.) oops! didn’t mean to send that!
neon leon (12:41 p.m.) just uh. pretend i didn’t just accidentally send you a nude. haha :)
“Oh my god,” you quietly whimper. It is a nude. 
The proper thing would be, of course, to do as he asks. Spam a bunch of junk until it disappears to the void of the past conversation. Laugh it off with him. Tell him a joke to make him feel better when he’s probably fucking mortified. 
…A little like how you’re mortified the moment you tap on the picture, making it bigger. 
God damn it. It’s… It’s so unfair how good he looks, you think, biting on the inside of your cheek. He’s finally hit that growth spurt Casey has warned everyone was coming, and he’s just so—so big. Towering over you easily. Putting on muscle like it’s as easy as putting on a shirt. Moving like silk through the air. Comfortable in his skin and knowing he looks good.
A fresh memory comes to mind. How the other day, he’d picked you up in one hand to snag the blanket you’d been sitting on to hand to Donnie where he’d been whining about being chilly. You’d spent the rest of the afternoon uncomfortably wet and turned on, hoping to god his sensitive turtle nose couldn’t pick up on it as he draped an arm on your shoulder for the last half of the movie and pulled you to lean into his plastron.
(...Friends cuddle, right? Totally. Friends totally cuddle.)
Plus he’s just… pretty. The way his cheekbones curve, the markings on his face cutting beautiful lines around his eyes, eyes that you can see without his mask in the way. The breath catches in your lungs as you stare into where they’re half-lidded in the picture, turning the smirk into something sultry. The smirk, framed by fingers that are long and thick and—
“Oh fuck,” you choke, clenching your teeth so hard your jaw aches. 
(...Friends think about getting fingered by their friends, right?! Right?! Oh god, oh fuck—)
“You good?” April asks, finally looking away from Casey who is dabbing at his face and bellowing with agony. Oof, carbonation up the nose. Not fun.
“…I’m so good,” you tell her around the knot in your throat, fingers going tight on your phone. Gah. You have to leave now or else she’ll suss out what’s wrong and you’re pretty sure you’d rather die than admit you’re getting flustered off of Leonardo’s mess up. “Say, uh. I—I have to go to the bathroom. Right now. For a while. I’ll be back.”
You can feel her eyes between your shoulder blades as you flee her knowing eyes, quickly going into the stand-alone bathroom in the cute little café and snapping the door shut behind you. You slump back against it, whipping out your phone and looking at it a bit like it’s a ticking time bomb. 
Which it kind of is, you realize with a sudden terror. You haven’t responded to him yet. He would have seen the little dots where you’d given away you were typing. That you’d had his picture in your face. He knows you’ve seen it. You’ve seen it, and time is passing while he’s sitting there, knowing there’s a fucking nuke on your screen. Oh god. Oh fuck.
Stupid sexy turtle, you think, hands trembling as you compose a very normal, very chill response. You only delete three before you settle on the last and send it.
sent (12:45 p.m.) no worries! i didn’t see anything, haha :)
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) hm. you sure? you sure took a while to respond
Oh god. Embarrassment lights your blood on fire. He knows. He totally knows. Fuck, it feels like he knows how you zoomed the fuck in and had to press your goddamn thighs together beneath the table. Swallowing thickly, you try to do as much damage control as you can. 
sent (12:45 p.m.) i mean, of course i saw it. i was curious!
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) oh yeah? what were you so curious about?
sent (12:45 p.m.) i. you know. i’ve never seen you without your mask. 
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) you know you can ask, right? i’ll take it off for you whenever you want.
You fumble your phone. What the fuck. Is this happening. Quickly, you look up. Yep. You’re still here. A quick pinch reminds you that it isn’t a dream. It’s quarter til one on a Saturday, and your childhood friend has sent you a nude on accident and then said that. 
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) is that something you want? seeing me without my mask?
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) i’d do it. for you.
neon leon (12:45 p.m.) no wraps. no socks. no mask. 
“…Holy shit,” you mutter, feeling a little dizzy. You gape, unsure of how to respond, how to fucking breathe. Then, you nearly jump out of your skin when the phone of your screen fills with a selfie of you and Leo in a photobooth at Alberto Land, feather boas and silly matching heart-shaped glasses stupid on your face. 
Oh fuck. He’s calling you. 
“Where are you right now?” Leo asks as soon as you answer the call, not waiting for you to find your voice, his words velvet in your ears.
Defensive at how you’re reacting, protecting your friendship with him tooth and nail, you claw out of the fog that had settled and made you stupid. You narrow your eyes at the hand dryer next to you. “…Did you actually ‘accidentally’ send me that picture, Leonardo?”
His laugh fills your ears like wine; rich, decadent, intoxicating. Warmth blooms in your chest. “Where are you, beautiful?”
That’s about as close to an admission as you’re probably going to get, you think. The pet name, familiar in shape but foreign in tone, makes your stomach dip. Licking your lips, you try one more time. 
“…Why are you sending me your nudes?” you ask, air catching in your throat, voice quiet but feeling loud in the privacy of the bathroom. 
“Why are you looking at them?” he responds cheekily. You bite down on the snarky response that reflexively comes to the surface; am I not supposed to, goober? There’s something glittering in the air, an invitation for something, and it makes you hesitate. Makes you look at the boundary of the lines you’ve drawn around him. Wonder what they’d look like a little smudged. 
“I… wanted to see,” you admit, feeling a little breathless, wondering if you sound so. If he can tell you’re on the edge of a cliff, feeling a bit like maybe you’re ready to take a step and fall.
“See what?” he asks. Voice lower still. Umbrous. Hypnotic. Tantalizing.
“You. Without—Without your mask. Without… any of it.”
His phone ever so slightly picks up on a sensuous rumble that comes from deep inside his shell. The sound of it makes you shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin. Your eyes fall shut. It’s an easy fantasy, thinking of feeling it in your flesh.
Leo says your name. It’s not a way you’ve ever heard him do so, before. It pricks your attention, hooking into it, pulling it where he wants it. “Where are you?”
You tell him. A second later, your eyes flare with familiar blue light. Two seconds later, your back is against the bathroom door, the sound of the lock clicking loud in your ears as he reaches over and ensures no one will be interrupting.
“Leo, you—!” you gasp, the barest amount of protest that he cuts through as easily as if he’d taken his katana to it. 
“I got tired of waiting. And you want to see,” he says, his fingers finding your chin and holding you in place, his mouth hovering over yours, his breath hot against where you can’t breathe. His other hand finds the curve of your hip, pulling it to meld to his own, his plastron pressing you to the door. “So look while you still can, pretty little thing. Because you’ve got about three minutes before I plan on getting my face between your legs for a long, long time.”
Later, much later, after you nearly bite through your palm trying to keep quiet through the several orgasms he easily eats out of you, after he portals you back to the lair and he pins you to that cursed mirror in his bedroom so you can see how good he looks while fucking you stupid, after he crawls over you in his sheets and slowly curls his fingers together with yours while rolling his hips to get slow and deep to drive you absolutely insane, your phone vibrates again.
This time, you ignore it, fully fucked out, completely disinterested in moving from beneath where Leo’s snoring into your shoulder, having everything you can possibly want within arm’s reach for the foreseeable future.
ayyy-pril (2:19 p.m.) lmao did you fall in?
ayyy-pril (2:19 p.m.) hellooooooo
ayyy-pril (2:21 p.m.) …since leo’s also not answering i’m guessing you’re with him. girl u Gotta let me know when you dip so i don’t worry >:T
ayyy-pril (2:21 p.m.) also. ugh. can you two just make out already? the pining is getting ridiculous. and don’t tell me i’m just imagining things again. i’m sooooo bored by your excuses
ayyy-pril (2:21 p.m.) grabbed your leftovers for you. love you ttyl byeeee
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hey-august · 3 months
Note
We know Buggy would be grabby with his partner's ass but like, Buggy's ass. They can't keep their hands off it. He's laying on his stomach in bed after some fun and they just reach over and slap that juicy peach to watch it jiggle.
He walks by his partner and Buggy's cheek gets a pinch.
He's standing in front of the mirror brushing his hair and they come up from behind, both hands on his ass, giving it a nice squeeze.
And you just know he loves the attention.
WITHOUT A DOUBT, ANON. HANDS ON BUTTS ALL THE TIME. 
🍑🤚🍑🤚🍑🤚🍑🤚
Sometimes Buggy walks past and sticks out his lil rump so he can get a smack or a grab. He pretends it’s for his partner's benefit, but that attention is such an ego boost for him. He doesn't do it in public, although he’s tempted.
For the briefest moment, it was a game. A competition. Who would grab a cheek, give a lil pinch, or deliver a full smack without getting caught? It was almost always Buggy. Of course.
How could his partner compete with someone who can do all those things without a body attached to the defiling hand? Instead, Buggy's partner settled for more gentle touches. Grazing his ass while walking past, a soft cradle when standing next to him, if Buggy had pants with back pockets - then his partner's hand was absolutely in one of those pockets, caressing the booty.
And when his partner had a bad day, there was one guaranteed way to make it better. It involved Buggy laying face down on the bed, straddled by his partner.
Buggy's thighs made the perfect seat, giving his partner full access to just grope and massage his ass to their heart’s content. Full handed squeezes, jiggles, slaps, little taps to create ripples, smacks that increase until Buggy grumbles, periodic feral chomps (sorry, not sorry, who doesn’t like a mouthful of squish sometimes), big ol' butt cheek kisses - all sorts of attention to that really helps his partner destress. And, honestly, Buggy finds it relaxing and enjoyable too. A little too enjoyable, most of the time. 
Some days, Buggy might pester his partner, saying they look stressed, they seem tired and overworked, they need to watch for burnout - anything that would end with their hands on his ass (and everywhere else). He’s a greedy pirate, he wouldn’t deny it.
👀👀 Should I get a little spicier with giving attention to Buggy’s rump? Because I can…and I will.
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, gn!reader, oral m receiving, rimming
Buggy knew he enjoyed how much his partner adored his ass, but he didn’t realize just how much the attention affected him until one night.
Their head was hanging off the edge of the bed, giving him access to fuck their throat. Fuck, he was able to go so deep this way. Thrusting until their lips were wrapped around his base, his cock twitching in their throat, and feeling their gag reflex until they tapped his thigh as a sign to pull back.
They loved being able to take him so deep, plus having free access to run their hands along his thighs and ass. Groping his soft flesh, worshiping his body, pulling him in, raking their nails along the skin until he shuddered. It’s so fucking hot.
Whenever Buggy needed a break, when he felt too close to coming, he’d pull out and they'd lick and kiss his balls. And when they would suck on his balls, his fucking eyes would roll back in pleasure. They could tell how into it Buggy was when he’d wrap a hand around his cock and start jerking, as if he forgot about having his dick sucked.
And on this night, his partner got curious. And frisky. A particularly languid lick along his balls, which bounced softly as Buggy screwed his own fist, ended further than usual. Closer to an area his partner didn’t visit in this position or with this type of attention.
They sent out a testing flick of their tongue, moving ever closer, and waited for a tap. There was no tap. There had been a twitch in Buggy’s arm, a slight thrust of his hips, but no sign to stop. So they kept going, with a slow wet lick until their tongue made contact with his tight asshole. A hand came down and grabbed their side, so they pulled back.
“Ngh, mm-mm, keep going,” came a grunt from above, accompanied by more aggressive fist fucking. It wasn’t a tap. His fucking knees were going to give out if he didn’t hold onto something.
Their partner went right back to it, kissing and licking his ass with such desire and enthusiasm that Buggy swore his vision was going out. How could this feel so fucking good?
When he finally came, it was glorious. And shocking. A whole fucking mess. He didn’t think he had that much cum inside his balls, but his partner was painted. It was everywhere. Dripping down his own hand, still leaking out the tip, and all over his partner’s chest. Something happened that night and everyone enjoyed it.
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irisintheafterglow · 3 months
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Hiii! Im obsessed with your coparenting megumi series. You write all the characters so well!! Are you planning on writing more for it? No pressure just curious! <3
hi anon, thank you for the love !!! and i absolutely will continue writing coparenting megumi, so here's a new little installment :)) hopefully it's not too late in the winter for ice skating <3
cw: swearing, fluff
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in hindsight, you didn't expect them to get so invested in the winter olympics. you'd turned on the channel for megumi and tsumiki to watch while you made dinner, unaware of tsumiki's sudden fascination with the world of ice skating. megumi, ever the little brother he was, begrudgingly watched with his sister but took note of how her face lit up as the skaters danced across the ice. when she burst into the kitchen, slipping and sliding across the floorboards with her fuzzy snowman socks, she could barely sputter out what she wanted this weekend's adventure to be.
"i want to go ice skating," she declared after she caught her breath, grinning so widely that it'd probably hurt her cheekbones. "please." a moment later, megumi slides into the kitchen with half as much grace as his sister but still nodding as enthusiastically.
"where'd this come from?" you smile and tap the wooden spoon against the edge of the pot. "you wanna go to the olympics like the people on tv?"
"that's in the future," tsumiki says matter-of-factly. "first, i need to get more comfortable with balancing on one foot, like a ballerina."
"ballerinas also take classes," you point out. "do you wanna start taking skating lessons? i can talk to satoru and see if-" you're immediately cut off by frantic shouts of please! and i'll do the dishes for a year! that echo off of the cupboards and disturb the peace of your neighbors.
so here you were, freezing your ass off and crisscrossing your laces over the front of your ankle, tying it into a tight bow before checking on the kids. it'd been a few weeks since tsumiki started her lessons, and you were finally able to line up you and satoru's schedules for a free day to take the whole 'family' skating. tsumiki, as expected, is practically bouncing from excitement with her skates already laced and ready to go; megumi, on the other hand, stares at the supposed shoes of death and looks as apprehensive as an emperor penguin hiking an active volcano. though he was willing to watch skating with his sister, you found that getting him to step onto any uneven surface was nearly impossible. your boyfriend is nowhere to be found after mumbling something about dinner not sitting right in his stomach and racing to the bathroom, leaving you to help tsumiki drag her little brother onto the ice.
but, she's gone as soon as her blades hit the ice and it's like you threw a caught tuna back into the ocean. there's no hesitation in the flow of her feet as they propel her forward, carefully crossing over one another around a tight turn. she'd improved astronomically since the first lesson you brought her to, even going so far as to lift one of her legs slightly off the ground and continue to glide.
"are we sure this is safe?" megumi's mumbles are barely audible as he white-knuckle grips the edge of the walls, his feet slowly making unsteady progress. you skate alongside him, not as confidently as tsumiki but not as shakily as megumi. "how many people have died while ice skating?"
"i don't know, but i guarantee you will not be one of them," you reassure him while his left hand finds a home in your right glove. a quick glance around the rink reveals satoru nowhere to be found and tsumiki cautiously practicing a spin in the middle of the ice. "you're doing great, bud. just focus on yourself and don't worry about anyone else."
"what if they knock me over?"
"i won't let them knock you over."
"but what if they try?"
"megumi, you have survived scarier things than assholes at an ice rink. just-"
a whoosh! of cold air flies past your left shoulder and you're about to curse out whoever sped past you when you catch tsumiki with her hands raised in celebration, cheering. your eyes adjust and finally recognize the shape of your boyfriend speeding around the rink, weaving between couples and eventually coming to a hockey-stop right next to you. you're shocked, to say the least, and the first thing that comes out of your mouth after you laugh surprises him.
"what the hell are you wearing?"
"it's my skating gear," he replies, giving you a lopsided smile. "surprised?"
"incredibly," you snort, taking note of the way the long-sleeved compression shirt hugged his muscles and highlighted the shoulders you ever-so-lovingly liked to bite. you knew he'd skated when he could during high school, saying something about wanting his aesthetic to match his hair, but you'd dismissed the idea without a second thought. you guessed he was counting on you to doubt his skating ability. "i can't say i don't like it, though."
"ew," megumi mutters from behind you and satoru peeks over your shoulder to find his unofficial son continue to struggle on the ice.
"hey, bud! you doing okay?" satoru's question is met with another grumble and he shrugs, undeterred. "want me to give you a little bit of help?"
"absolutely not," megumi says adamantly, tightening his hold on your hand as one of his skates veers backward for a split second. satoru disappears without another word, finding tsumiki in the middle and bending down to whisper something in her ear.
you can't hear what they're saying, but whatever satoru says makes her gasp and race over to you and megumi. she hurriedly pries megumi's fingers from your hand and replaces it with hers, quickly saying something about taking over for you. before you can question it, satoru's hand is grabbing yours and lurching you forward, faster than you had ever skated before.
"holy shit! what are you doing?" you half-laugh, half-panic with no choice but to hold on to your boyfriend for dear life. it was exhilarating, moving so quickly with such ease, but you couldn't negate the dread of what would happen if you fell. "i can't skate this fast!"
"i'm making you skate with me, so we're gonna go as fast as i want us to," he replies with a smirk over his shoulder.
"i'm going to kill you if i trip," you swear, but he laughs it off immediately. "brutally."
"like i would ever let you fall," he murmurs. he positions himself at your side while you steady your shaking skates, slowing to a halt in the middle of the ice. with no wall of safety to be found, you maintain your death grip on satoru and hesitantly push yourself forward. "look at you go, pushing off all on your own." the tease in his voice was evident, but you were too busy trying not to eat shit to scold your boyfriend.
"shut up, satoru. i'm focusing." you let go of his hand and feel his patronizing gaze burn into the back of your neck, flinching when he suddenly cuts right in front of you. your flinch throws you off balance and you jolt forward, but he immediately grabs your forearms and sets you back on your feet.
"see? told you i'd never let you fall," he says quietly with a tiny smile that breaks through your frown of concentration. your expression softens and he notices, like he always does. "there you are. think you can forgive me for pulling you out on the ice?"
"as long as we don't go as fast as last time." he grins and locks his fingers in yours. "speed up and i'm gonna hide all your favorite compression shirts."
"oh, so it's serious," he chuckles, pulling you forward and letting you mirror the glide of his skates back and out, side to side. "that's okay," he concludes, leaning over briefly to peck your cheek. "i love you more than my compression shirts."
"what a statement," you deadpan lightheartedly and he shrugs.
"honestly, it's a pretty close competition-"
"alright, that's enough. shut up and skate," you interject and start to move a little faster, his hand in yours warm and safe. "we have to get good at this if tsumiki's headed to the olympics."
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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linddzz · 4 months
Text
In Which Hob, a Shitty Wizard, Meets a Supposed Demon
Last week or so I made too many posts about what if Hob, still immortal, trying out occultism but kinda crap at it (which is some bullshit considering that Death is his drinking buddy), first meets Dream as the devil in the basement of The Magus Burgess. I called it "the shit-wizard Hob AU"
I still don't know if I'll finish it. But I couldn't stop it from starting.
No editing no betas we post on Tumblr like idiots.
EDIT: very mild editing still no betas we still stupid
********
In August of 1923, Hob Gadling - currently Rob Gedlen- is introduced to a demon.
It is, he has to admit, rather impressive. Or at least, the bonds keeping it tamed are. The prison space is everything a magus cellar should be. All arched, ancient stone and dim lighting that only barely illuminates the painted ceiling. Shadows so deep that even the electric bulbs only give the dark textures of colour. Green algae, the saturated grays and browns of rock, the faded blue and gold of the artificial night sky.
The oily glint of black iron chains. The sweeping ooze of the light over the curved iron scaffolding the chains held up, and the dizzying reflection off of the glass orb held within the iron like a gem clasped in dragon claws suspended over a small, mirror flat moat and an intricate golden circle.
Very impressive. Forboding even. The sort of thing a magus should have in his cellar.
The man inside of it looks for all the world like an ordinary naked man. Right number of limbs, hair and skin natural colors, everything in place where it should be. That's if one ignored the fact that he was sitting calm and clean in a fully airtight sphere of glass. Ordinary, if you were a dimwit and took human shape as a sign of humanity.
“This,” Burgess says with a wicked, bitter sort of pride, “is the Order’s secret of success.”
Hob whistles, because he thinks he should show some sort of appreciation. He's been working for Burgess for a few years now after all, and knows when to look suitably impressed. It is impressive, so he doesn't need to play it up too much when he follows Burgess past the wrought iron gate.
The man in the glass looks less like a mystical secret and more like he needs a coat. He's even sitting with his knees tucked to his chest, delicate ankles crossed in front of him, arms loosely draped forward and black haired head bowed down as if in deep thought.
With his nakedness, the curled position would look painfully vulnerable, were it not for the overwhelming sense that he's waiting.
“He's a demon of dreams. Or close enough to a demon.” Burgess explains. His cane tapping on the stone is the only other sound in that strange space. “I was attempting to summon Death itself, and failed at my task. But I did not come away empty handed.”
Yeah, that's probably for the best. If Hob had sauntered down here and seen Her displayed in a glass cage like a bauble, he would have done something stupid and violent. Best case scenario; She would just laugh at him for overreacting. Worst case; She'd do it with that sad little twist to Her mouth.
The entity Burgess did nab seems miniscule compared to the apparatus around him, to the manor towering over their heads. Yet even Hob and his absolute shit senses for magic can feel how everything is circling the center point of the man. They're all little marbles, orbiting the sphere and the mass within it.
“An incubus?” Hob asks, walking around the perimeter of the moat. His tone is mild, curious, intrigued. It's a talent of his to not exactly lie, but to use some of his feelings to mask others.
It’s a horrible thing, to take the freedom of another for your own benefit.
Her voice echoes in his head. That moment is never far from his head. The sad sweetness of her voice turned sour. The hard disappointment in her dark eyes. He will never forget the horrid, sickening twist of guilt of that meeting, and he feels it when he looks at the demon in the magus’ cellar.
The lights reflect oddly in the sphere, making it seem as if the man himself were the source of illumination. His skin is the sort of gleaming white that poets would froth over. Hob isn't a poet, but even he can tell that “white” hardly does it justice. The alabaster statues a floor above are going to appear dull and crude now when compared to the snow-under-moonlight of the man down here. The shadows of him are blue, violet, deepest velvet black.
Maybe not snow under moonlight, Hob thinks, reminded of the multi-hued winter twilight.
Now that he's closer, Hob can make out the sharply sculpted features of him. His curled body is a lean, hungry twist of muscle that reminds one less of actual flesh than of a tangled metal chord. His cheekbones are sharp and high, his eyes cast down with a sweep of raven wing lashes. The only hints of life are the faint flushes of seashell pink at his ears, his fingers, the still and plush lips.
“If you like.” Burgess says, which means the man isn't an incubus and Burgess thinks he's fucking clever again. The magus is watching Hob now, who is examining the circle, the iron chains, anything that will keep him from thinking too much about the thin form trapped within it.
“I attempted first to gain favors from it.” Burgess continues when Hob says nothing. “But it is stubbornly silent. No matter.”
Burgess has stepped past the moat, past the circle, to stand with his nose nearly touching the round glass wall. Hob stays outside of the barriers, but he is close enough that he can see the hate that always sits beneath his boss’ manners.
“No matter.” Burgess repeats, sneering at his captive. “Found a use for you anyway, didn't I? Just its presence brings power to this place. It amplifies the magic here, makes the spells wrought near it more solid.”
“Not much hope for me then, if I'm already by some magic booster.” Hob grins, and his boss chuckles almost fondly. It had been a whim that had Hob joining the Order. He’d never tried being a magician before, though he had gone to a few seances when they were at their peak. Occultism wasn't too fashionable anymore, so Hob thought it was best to try it out now before it got truly passe.
He's glad he's only been at it for a few years, because he's crap at it. All the costumes and chanting and intricate rituals seem silly, even when he's seen the true results of it. It was just a bunch of nonsense cobbled together from bad translations and old frauds that everyone knew were frauds back in the day! But if you followed the stupid made up rubbish perfectly, sometimes it would result in some actual magic.
That's one of the stupid things about magic. If all you can think about while doing a spell is that you must look like an utter berk, it won't work.
“We all have our talents, Mr. Gedlen.” Burgess says mildly, indulgently. “It's why I have brought you here, actually. You may not have the Gift,” he always referred to magic like that, you could hear the self important capitalized letters in it, “but you’re measured. Resilient. Notably unshakable.
Hob supposed that was true enough. Being in a house with a bunch of wizardy twats who were too busy going mad while practicing the perfect runes took a level head. Someone needed to have enough of a practical mindset to smother out all the fires that tended to happen, even if those fires had colors that gave you a headache.
“I've tried other magicians, promising acolytes, ruffian's from the street.” Burgess continues, sighing with remembered disappointment and gazing hard at the unmoving demon. “They would lose their nerve, complain of nightmares, or they would be too dimwitted to know the sorts of things to report on.”
Hob moves again, still keeping to the edges of the moat, until he is looking at Burgess’ back and into the lowered face of the demon. “You want me to be a guard?” He asks, voice mild because he isn't sure how he feels about that.
“An observer.” Burgess corrects. “You're sharp, though I've noticed that you try not to show it. You don't have a talent for magic, but you're quick to catch onto the supernatural.”
Hob should hope so, all things considered.
“I want you to take one of the guard shifts, yes. But I want to see what you observe compared to the thicker minds my son has hired. I want you to tell me when it moves, how it moved, if the light seemed different, if you felt tired despite the forced march pills you will be required to take. Any sign that it might be trying to wear away at the binds that hold it.
Do not be fooled by it's stillness or fair looks.” Burgess taps his cane on the sphere, making it ring like a perfect crystal. “This is a demon. If it ever breaks free, it will destroy all of us without a thought.”
The demon lifts its head then, and Hob wonders if his heart finally stops. The movement is slow, strange and dragged, a statue that can only mimic how a living thing would move. The raven wing lashes fly up. The demons eyes are shadowed. Far more deeply shadowed than they should be for the amount of light shining off his skin.
Within those shadows, the place where his eyes must be draw all the light in, refine it, refract it back in the distant twinkling of two dim, hateful, cold stars.
“Yeah. I don't doubt that.” Hob says quietly, and the demons eyes blaze in its beautiful, dead face.
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