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horrorartsworld · 3 months

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Clingy ass Valentino…HEAR ME OUT PEOPLE!PUT THE PITCHFORKS AWAY!

He just adores his little pornstar so much,he buys her whatever she wants.her dressing room might be more expensive than an art museum

New nails? Done.Wanna get your hair done? He’s already given them his card

She just gets so used to being spoiled that she’ll start to get bratty when he won’t get something,and then that leads to a brat being out in her place…(IF YOU KNOW WHERE IM GOING)

I LIVE FOR THESE KIND OF ASKS!! EATING THIS SHIT UP FOR BREAKFAST HONEY 🤭🤭 Also can you tell I have fun writing for Valentino…it’s DISGUSTING

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spoiled rotten

clingy valentino/spoiled pornstar f!reader

warnings: smut obviously, HEAVY brat taming, oral (m receiving), rough dom!valentino, brat!reader, unprotected p in v, spanking, grinding, face fucking, orgasm denial, creampie, pet names, daddy kink, lots of dirty talk cause when doesn’t val talk dirty lol, soft valentino??? at the end

A low strum of a knock is heard against the door of your dressing room where Valentino now stood with it all the way open. “Doll?” His voice following shortly after, sounding a bit tired though it still had the alluring presence that was always intoxicating.

Huffing, you see his tall stature from the reflection of your large vanity mirror, ducking his head as he came through the doorway not bothering to wait for some kind of gesture from you to come in.

Red eyes immediately catching the new things you’ve bought probably in the last week or days even.

Various articles of clothing with high price tags still on them strung and obviously thrown onto a big luxurious pink sofa that sat on one end of the room, an assortment of shoes adorning the other with plentiful shelving space to display most of them, and lets not forget the jewels that you had laid out like magazines on your coffee table that were so sparkly they hurt when he glimpsed at them.

All of it was making Val very overwhelmed and most importantly uneasy. It was like you were gonna run him dry of all his hard earned porn money, seeing you spend it all so carelessly only to buy pointless things that you think is cutesy or fun in the moment, but that feeling would always subside when the girl he adorned more then himself would give him the time of day….and of course you knew this all too well once you became spoiled.

Taking advantage of it when you could to get the things you want, wearing tight little mini skirts that would show your panties when you bent over or putting on your big doe eyes when he was being even a bit hesitant with your request. It was always the best too when you’d catch him in a big meeting, your delicate figure sauntering into his office letting his colleagues gawk at you in the new outfit you’d bought that showed just about every inch of your assets, causing Valentino to almost loose his shit seeing them look at you and he then has to deal with you quickly, shooing you off with his card in your hands to get whatever your little heart desires.

Which is the exact reason why your hair and nails were always done at almost every shoot, making some of the other girls quite jealous of you seeing the princess treatment you got from Val that they very much lacked, but who were you to care? You the porn studios sweet little prized possession and nobody could change that.

“What do you want?” You hiss annoyed while applying mascara to your long lashes, taking your gaze away from the tall moth man as he approached you, large hands resting on your shoulders, giving a small kiss to the top of your head.

“I just wanted to check in before your shoot..make sure everything’s okay with my favorite little estrella,” He rests his chin on the top of your head, his chest rumbling with a low purr as he spoke watching you so prettily apply your makeup in the mirror. “Well the shoot is just gonna have to wait tonight, i’m going to a party at the club,” You say nonchalantly as if nothing could persuade you not to go.

Val raises an invisible eyebrow at you. “Party? Oh no baby you gotta be here, the men banking on this is gonna pay us millions to distribute it..” He pauses for a moment standing up straight to take out his box of cigarettes before continuing, “…besides we both know your closet would struggle if you missed out on this kind of opportunity..”

Gawking at him in the reflection you couldn’t believe the insult he just threw at you, making you act dramatically by throwing your chair back letting it clatter to the floor as you turned to face him. “Listen here Valentino..This industry would be nothing without me and this cunt between my legs, now if i want to go to a party i’m going to go to that fucking party! Whether some perverted pricks like it or not, they can reschedule for all i give a fuck!!” You spat then stomping away from him till you were on the other side of the room where you flipped through different pairs of bottoms on a rack, not believing how unfair he was being towards you when you’ve worked so hard to get where you’re at. The scent of his now lit cigarette clouding the air made you feel like you couldn’t breathe, a low tsk is heard from behind you till that feeling of your breath slipping from your airways got more prominent until you were tugged back making you fall onto your ass.

“Don’t forget who owns you..” He snarled, the coolness of the metal collar that had suddenly appeared around your neck reminded you of the soul contract he had over you, the feeling leaving a bad taste in your mouth, along with the vice grip he had on the end of the chain that he just pulled to make you fall.

“Matter of fact turn around for me..”

“Valentino..i-i didn’t mean-“ You try to apologize, but you were cut off by another tug on the chain, this time more harder than the last making you choke.

“I said turn around now.”

You quickly turn around, resting on the backs of your heels on your knees, looking up at the moth man with a gaze akin to that of a deer all while he towered over you. To your dismay your look of innocence only turned him on more, letting go of the chain that held you till it dissipates in mid air and the coolness of the collar is gone, wasting no time as he undos the large heart buckle sat at his midsection and pulls down his white dress pants till they’re pooling at his ankles. He was already so hard that when his cock sprang free your eyes immediately met his leaky tip that was a deep purple from its usual color, he then takes it in one of his hands and taps it against your lips. The pre smearing into your freshly applied lipstick.

“Open princess..” Val cooed through gritted teeth, the end of his cigarette wiggling in his mouth while he spoke.

You start shivering when you feel his claws racking against your scalp, too caught up in what was happening Valentino presses the back of your head down on his cock forcing the tip to push past your lips, taking him in your mouth fully without a moment to adjust and it immediately hits the back of your throat earning a soft gag from you and a low chuckle from Val. Once you catch your bearings from the unexpected sensation, you began to bob your head like the pornstar you were, sucking and licking like you were starved.

“Mmm..that’s my good girl..daddy’s good girl huh…” He hums out a gruff moan, a hand snaking its way down to caress your cheek that was full. Your eyes flutter up at him catching him in such a sinfully good angle that made you whine against his cock, cigarette barley hanging from his lips, the buttons on his shirt opened showing off his rather lean built body, muscles flexing and the white fur around his neck fluffing up when you used you flicked your tongue against a vein in a certain way getting him closer to his already building orgasm. “Taking it so good aren’t you baby? It's okay, hhpmh..you don't gotta talk with your mouth full, I know you fucking love worshipping daddy’s cock..”

The tears start pouring down your face, ruining your mascara in the process as his words along with the filthy sounds of you sucking him off made your cunt throb with an unbearable need. You scoot closer in attempt to grind against his leg, whimpering when the heat from his body, combined with the friction from his leg and the fabric of your panties rubbed deliciously against your sensitive clit.

"M gonna cum doll..Swallow for me yeah? Every last drop, do you fucking hear me?” Valentino growled suddenly his frustrations over taking him, putting out his cigarette(finally) as he fisted your hair proceeding to take control completely, bucking his hips relentlessly into your mouth as he face fucked you. Drool leaking down your chin as you tried to continue your grinding against his leg trying to match his speed until he came down your throat. Pulling you off his dick with a little pop to let you swallow, Valentino lightly tapping your chin, letting red smoke spill from his mouth as he leaned down to your level. "Atta girl…lemme see."

Seeing that you obediently swallowed his seed, he roughly yanked you from your position on his leg, eyes disapprovingly glaring down at you from behind his sunglasses. “You think you can get off on my leg without permission?” He scolds like an owner to its pet. “If you’re gonna cum cariño, it’s gonna be with you squirming on my dick.”

“B-but..” You sniffle, only to be silenced by Valentino with just a finger signaling you to. He then throws you on the couch not caring about the high end clothes still on it, crawling onto of you shortly after.

“Shhh not another word,” He shushes you, leaving kisses down your neck feverishly, while his hands worked at pulling down your skirt and panties in one quick motion. Slamming into you before you could even mutter out a protest like the brat you’ve grown to be. One of his hands reaching above you to hold onto the arm of the couch as he fucked into you with a dizzying rhythm, pounding relentlessly into your cunt just like he did to your mouth. “Fuck princessa, I should just let them record us…Millions of sinners seeing you get your brains fucked out by the man who really owns you…owns this pussy..”

“Y-you own this pussy daddy…” You babble out, whimpering when he hit that particular spot that drove you crazy to the point your clit swelled.

A primal instinct ignited in Val when he heard you say that, making his thrusts stutter for a minute until he started fucking you like an animal once more. “Say that again baby..”

You were too focused on the pleasure that you didn’t hear him, earning a good smack to the side of your ass snapping you out of it with a pitiful whine.

“Tell me who owns this pussy..” He husked in your ear for another time.

“Mm daddy does..” Valentino could tell just by your voice and the way your cunt was sucking him in that you were getting close, and it only excited the man more for what he deviously had planned. Pulling you closer to your orgasm by adding hand to rub circles at your soaked clit. “Yeah he fucking does..”

You let out a meek moan at his prideful exclamation and the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that was coursing through you. You should’ve known better that this would’ve been the outcome of your little tantrum from earlier, but secretly you loved the punishment. Being used like a fuck doll for Valentino to use. Your mind going dumb on the thought causing your cunt to clench with your needed climax, a pout forming on your messy lips.

“G-gonna cum, please Val!” You practically begged feeling your tears come up again.

"Not until l've had mine, princessa." He huffed breathlessly, burying himself deep inside you with one finally thrust, wings fanning out and fluttering while he spilt his cum all inside you.

The feeling of being filled made you desperately want your own climax so much more, but he quickly pulled out of you, killing that mood within an instant, leaving your legs shaking and your lower stomach aching for release.

"I changed my mind," Valentino said with a smirk, but there was a hint of admiration dotting his red eyes. "I think you don't get to cum today. Not even at work i’m rescheduling the shoot for another day since you decided to show your ass.”

He began to clean himself up, picking up his pants from the other side of the room and slipping them back on. You wanted to pout again, especially because he was basically back to being so unfair, but you knew better to not otherwise that would result in another denial of your orgasm. Once he was back to his normal overly sensual self, he turned to you, red eyes having a more stone cold look in them with his lip curled seeing you still shaking on the couch. You had been rid of your panties and mini skirt, leaving you just in a skimpy little top that was jostled around by Val with one of your tits hanging out of it. Makeup smudged and battered, along with the consistent drip of Vals juices and your arousal from your used hole falling onto a unworn dress that was nestled under your bum.

"Now what do you remember from today?" He asked one set of hands on his hips as the others were crossed over his chest.

The way Val stood over you so authoritatively made your core throb once more, but you tried to push it to the side as you gathered what ever thoughts you had of the lesson he seemed to try to teach you just now.

"I need to remember my place and not talk back," You mumbled quietly.

"And?" Valentino added quizzically raising his chin to tell you to proceed.

"To listen to you." A smile pulling up at the corner of your lip as you knew he was fucking with you now.

"Good girl…Also, you might want to get that dry cleaned cariño," He gestured to the dress underneath you making you look frantically till you saw it.

“Oh whatever!” You say rolling your eyes playfully giggling at him.

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s #☆⋆｡𖦹 valentino #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin valentino smut #hazbin valentino #hazbin valentino x reader #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino smut #valentino

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grugruel · 5 months

Text

Wicked Game

Pairings: cop!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: An out of control college party gets crashed by cops, someone tattled, and a cop chase ensues.

The chief is an old friend of your family, who you'd always had a crush on.

Thinking he's harmless, you talk back. But he can only hold back for so long.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: reader is 20, pinv sex, rough sex, oral sex (m and f recieving), choking, uniform kink, sir kink, reader being bratty, bucky doing something about it!! edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, pet names (girl, doll), praise (yay), mentions of masturbation, slight marking, degrading ish? cum eating, creampie, power dynamic, some soft!bucky at the end.

AN: This is not a Lee bodecker fic! This is just regular, muscly cop!bucky.

Blaring music and thumping bass fill an already crowded house, drunk daredevils otherwise inhabiting it.

God, my skull feels like it's about the cave in. The average college experience in other words.

I'd been drinking the least out of my friends, yet I felt the worst. They sat on the couch around me, trying the wide assortment of drugs that were splayed out in front of us. Littering the table along with various hard liqour bottles, all mostly empty.

Drugs arent my forte, but I wont nark them.

The party had only been going for an hour or so, I think? My lockscreen told me it was 2 in the night, holy shit? It had been 5 hours.

How the hell had no one called the cops yet? Little did I know, how badly I jinxed myself.

'Guys, Guys.' I lazily shrugged the shoulders of two of my friends sitting on each side of me, 'We- we, gotta go.'

'We're fine!' One of them drawled, splaying out on the couch.

I shook my head, head thumping in each bend, 'Theres literally. . .' I paused, searching tiredly for the right words, 'Uhm- No way! That the cops arent on their way here like, right now.'

'We've lasted this long.' The other said, shrugging his shoulders, grinning.

I groaned, 'Fine!' And threw my hands up in defeat, my friend observed me smugly. He held up some coke for me, raising his brows in question. To which I shook my head again.

A sharp alarm cut through the music, everyone groaned, heads complaining at the sound. I figured it was something with the sound system, but no.

I just had to jinx myself, remember?

As my ears adjusted to the sound, I realised. It's sirens, two or three. Cops.

'It's the fucking cops!' I shouted, alerting everyone. The music cut off, and the sirens clarified into the deafening sound of jail, or curfew. Depending on the cop. I was hoping and dreading the Chief in equal amounts, he could take it easy on me, or not.

I roused my friends, dragging them up from the couch and filtering them through the backdoor. Along with at least a hundred other people our age.

My attempts at freeing them had made me lag behind, one of my friends grabbed my arm, 'Come on!' She shouts, trying to pull me with them. But theres to many people between us and she loses her grip, swept away by the crowd.

The front door swings open behind me, and I freeze. Slowly turning around, I see a tall, broad shouldered figure standing silently observing the chaos from the doorway. He stepped inside, searching the crowd, and eventually. His eyes land on me.

'Give em' hell. Get the ones you can!' He barks the orders at his men, and then his eyes narrow in on me. Staring me down, 'And leave this one to me.' His words make my skin crawl, in fear of my parents finding out and possibly, excitement?

I wouldn't say no to punishment dealt by Chief Barnes.

His men rush past me out the backdoor, leading me to back up slowly. Placing the Coffee table between me and the Chief, securing myself somewhat.

Slowly, he stalks forward. A slanted smile growing with every step that he takes, making chills run up my spine. His uniform does him good I notice, shirt and pants sitting around his muscles perfectly. Belt and gun? Hot.

'Heeey, Buck.' I smile cheapishly, 'Fancy meeting you here.' Testing the waters, seeing what chances my charms have of easing the situation for myself.

He nods, raising his eyebrows in response and grins in spite, as if answering, "I'm sure it is" and "You're in deep fuckin shit now."

I laugh nervously and try again, 'I didn't know you enjoy college parties Buck? Or just, college girls?'

Amused, he steps closer, It's now only the table separating us. I step up on the couch behind me, desperately trying to make up for the space I'm losing. He puts his hands around his belt buckle, smirking. At least my incredibly funny self seems to have softened him.

He looks down, studying its content, then looks back up at me. His face turns displeased, undoing all my previous hard work to humour him.

I follow his gaze, looking at the table myself, and it dawns on me, 'No no no no!' I throw out in panic, 'Listen, Buck. . .'

'What could you possibly have to say-' he began and lowered his head, giving me a serious look, 'To get yourself out of this one?' referring to the table.

'I can think of a few things, I might have an ace in my sleeve.' I smirk. Metaphoricly speaking of course, my blouse does not have long sleeves.

He takes a firm step closer, a bemused look on his face, 'Ok Ok! It's not mine! It's not, mine.' I gesture to myself, then to the table in erratic motions. 'I'm an innocent bystander, I just sat on the couch. Never even touched the stuff.' I hold my hands up, palms out. As if it would stop him.

'Theres nothing innocent about you girl.' He tells me sternly, the corner of his lip tugging.

Stunned, there's a sudden flutter in my stumache.

Suddenly, the energy between us change. The tension grows and the look in his eyes turn hungry, like a hunter watching its prey.

'Pinky promise?' I ask, shrugging cheapishly.

He takes a few quick steps toward me, rounding the table. But I run to the end of the couch, making sure that the table is still between us. Butterflies surge through my body, giddy from excitement. This is the most fun I'd had all night. 'Buck, let's- lets be civil about this, alright? Let's just talk.' I giggle.

He chuckles, 'Oh, you think this is funny?'

Nodding, 'Kind of, yes. . .' I tease.

'We're far past talking.' He breathes, 'Had I been anyone else, had I not known your parents, you would've been in cuffs by now.'

My eyes turn mischievous, 'Whats stopping you?' I tilt my head, 'I assure you, I wouldn't mind.' And grin.

He chews the inside of his cheek, then charges, and I run, swivelling to avoid solo cups and various balloons on the floor. I hear his footsteps behind me, catching up. My agility is nothing compared to his raw muscle and speed, but I swerve into the kitchen, adrenaline kicking in. And manage to take cover behind the kitchen island.

Bucky grinds to a halt, slamming his palms into the counter, catching himself against it. Once again, im in safety. For a while at least.

'Youre gonna have to be faster than that.' I pant, grinning. He meets my eyes, pure animalistic tendencies behind them. The look on his face has me biting my lip, I couldn't wait for him to catch me. 'C'mon Chief.' I purr.

And somethings in his eyes ignite at the word, oh?

'Chief?' I test and he grunts, eyes glaring at me through his eyebrows. Naturally, I delve deeper, 'You feeling quite alright. . . Sir?'

He tilts his head with a jerk, then laughs 'You've done it now.' Those are warning words. Then he jumps, sliding over the counter.

'Holy shit!' I squeek as I take of running, narrowly avoiding his grasp. I run through the house with Bucky right on my heels, nothing but the the thrill of the chase keeping me going.

I run out by the backdoor, then stupidly enough, take a right. Into a garden, a fenced in garden. The high type of fence too. I regret my decision the second I see notice it, but its to late. Buckys steps slow behind me, and I slow to a stop myself as I come face to face with a dead-end. 'Oh, fuck me.' I breathe, absolutely exhausted.

'Famous last words, doll.' He cuckles between pants.

I turn around and smile through the pain, 'Ha ha! Funny guy. What. A funny. Guy.' I clench my teeth, sighing.

My eyes lock onto his frame, hands on his hips as he's catching his breath. Mesmerized I stare, men in uniform, huh? Im starting to see the appeal.

Slowly, he begins walking toward me, prowling like a tiger. He grabs hold of his belt, pulling it upward to adjust his pants.

God damn.

My uterus is aching, my entire body is aching. I would've drooled if I hadnt come to my senses, escaping. Right.

I make a break for it. In one quick motion, I turn around and jump. Grabbing hold of the upper ledge of the fence and pull myself up, my feet scrambling against the wood to find some sort of purchase. But im too slow, too focused. I didn't even hear him come up behind me, but I did feel his big hands on my waist.

He yanks me down and pushes me toward the fence, his body flush against my back. I gasp and he digs his fingertips into my waist, making sure I don't escape again. His touch makes me yearn for more, I want it deeper.

He levels his head with mine, leaning in close to my ear. Close enough to feel his hot breathing against the skin on my neck, 'I got you now.' He whispers, making my skin prickle with goosebumps and setting of a pulse deep below my stumache. But I wasn't willing to give up just yet. With my hands free, I pry his own from my waist and turn around, pushing him back by the chest.

Now. . . The intention was to push him hard enough to give me space to run past, but. . .

He barely budged, he grabbed my wrists and pushed me back against the fence, pinning my body between the wood and himself. Wrists in hand, he anchored my arms to my sides by grabbing onto the fabric of my skirt. Rouching it, he helt the flesh of my ass under his fingers.

I laugh nervously, 'You're not gonna tell mom and dad are you?'

He just chuckles, fuck im truly, in deep shit.

I try wriggling free from his grip, but he holds my wrists tighter, carefully slamming them into the fence above my head and leans against me. Leaving zero space for me to move, every curve of our bodies complete the others, I swear I can feel his bulge against my hip. He moves his face closer to mine, needing me to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. When I do, a self-satisfied smile covers his lips. His face inches from my own, we were basically sharing one breath as his lips barely brush over mine. 'You gonna be a good girl for me and behave?' He asks, breathing heavily.

I whine, he can't possibly turn me on more. 'Depends.' I say.

''Yeah?' He practically whimpers.

I close the distance between our lips, but he pulls back and smiles, teasing me. I meet his eyes and we look at eachother intently, as if entranced, I cant break contact.

He lets go of my wrists and traces his hands down my arms, all the way down to my hands. Chills run amock over my body, I close my eyes and lean in again, but suddenly-

I hear a clasp, then another and I can just feel him smirk against me. My eyes go wide and I realise, 'You didn't.' glaring at him.

'I did.' He laughs, 'What made you think you were in a position to negotiate?'

I look down and sure enough, cuffs bind my wrists together. Shocked, my mouth falls open. I didnt even feel him reach for them.

He backs up and grabs my arm, pulling me with him. 'Could you at least let me off around the corner from our house?' I ask as we make our way toward his car, he glaces down at me but doesnt answer, 'So they dont see me get dropped off in a cruiser, you know?' He opens the front door for me, and helps me inside, 'And maybe avoid talking to them for a few weeks, you'd really be doing me a favor, Buck.' And without a word, he closes the door and walks around to his side. Getting in and driving off.

The first portion of the ride is silent, he'd done what he had to, to catch me. Damn.

Luckily for me though, the party was a long way from home. Meaning I have some time to devise a plan.

I look at my cuffs, carefully observing them. Hmm. . . I yank my hands apart, trying the strength of the schackles, hoping the sound would gather his attention.

This was a game of chance, a game of seduction and persuasion.

Gently, I tickle the skin on my upper knee, 'I really didnt do any drugs y'know.' tracing back and forth with my fingertips, acting somber. Then lay my hand flat against my thigh, squeezing it absentmindedly. Continuing with rubbing small, firm circles with my index finger into my skin and turn to look out of the window.

Bucky clears his throat. The reaction I was looking for, perfect.

I spread my legs slightly, letting my hands slide down either side of my thigh. Clasping them together underneath and slide them up along my thigh. The skirt catching on my cuffs, revealing more and more of my-

-his hand flies to my thigh, hooking the cuff over his thumb and squeezing my flesh. Keeping me from showing anything more. Fuck, my core is throbbing from that alone.

'Buck?' I ask innocently.

'Dont' he croaks, voice sounding pained.

'Sorry-' I pause, glancing at him carefully. His eyes are fixed sternly on the road, 'We could talk about this like adults you know, make a deal.' He squeezes my thigh harder, I lift one hand with the restricted movements of my cuffs and caress his fingertips, 'A real good deal, benefitial for the both of us' I suggest.

'You talk too much for your own good, girl.'

'I'm not quite sure what you mean, Sir?. .' I bite my lip as he looks over at me, meeting my eyes through my lashes. 'You wouldn't tell on me to my parents, would you?' I ask, giving him my best puppy eyes.

He looks away, sitting silently until the next exit comes up. He flashes his indicators and turn off the main road, parking in an empty clearing.

'You want a deal, doll?' He asks, looking straight ahead. Sliding the cuffs off his thumb as his hand travel downward, fingertips sliding under my skirt, knuckles brushing over my clothed clit. Lust flashes through my nerves, and I gasp.

'A deal, or you. Both sound good to me.' I whisper, on the edge of my seat. Eagerly awaiting his answer, waiting for him.

He looks back at me, meeting my eyes with a fiendish grin, 'Then put that big mouth of yours to use.' He orders.

Nodding enthusatically, I lean over. Unbuckling his belt and zip down his pants, I reach into his boxers and fuuuuck, my hands barely fit around him. I pull him out and pull my hands to my mouth, wetting my fingers before returning them. One hand carefully stroking small circles around his tip, while the other strokes him up and down in cylindrical motions along his shaft.

The chief of police bites his lip, muffling a whimper as I move faster, 'Uhh- mmm. .' He hums, 'Yes- yes, doll. Fuck. .' He stutters.

Such a strong man crumbling under the touch of a woman, it was turning me on like nothing ever has, the power I hold is surprising.

His fingers move under my panties and slide along my slit, making it my turn to moan. I Buck my hips to give him better access, and he dips his fingers inside me. Pumping them slowly as he's getting them wet, then slides up to my clit, circling around it. 'Holy-' I gasp, 'Shit.'

We buck our hips to the others touch, leaning against the other, shoulder to shoulder, temple to temple. Moaning breathely. Our lips finally meeting in a needy kiss, tounges moving with the rhythm of our bodies. 'Please, doll. Be a good girl.' He begs between our lips.

Fuck me, that heartbeat in my utherus spread in pulses through out my entire body.

I grin and pull back. Leaning over, I carefully lick the leaking cum off his tip clean, then take him in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around his head, licking greedily. Tasting the salt of him. I push deeper, sucking his length into my mouth. The sloppy sounds of saliva and lips were vulgar inte the most intoxicating way. His hand continues massaging my clit while the other snakes into my hair, grabbing a fistful and aiding my movements. Helping me set merciless pace.

Bucky groans, our strokes growing in greed as we close in on our releases. He shoves two big fingers into my core, curling at just the right spot. Pleasure surge through me, leaving me to stuff my throat with his member, muffling a scream as I topple over the edge. I feel him come right after, my mouth filling with his seed and hearing his moan of completion. The bitterness of salt waa overwhelming to my tastebuds, I swallow what I can and pull myself off.

Leaving a sloppy mess around my mouth, I sit back and smile. Breathing heavily as I regain my strength, Bucky looks at me and laughs, 'You got something right here.' gesturing circles around his mouth, reffering to mine. I wide my mouth clean with my thumb and suck it off, Bucky smiles proudly at the sight. Then brings his own fingers to his mouth, sucking my juices off of them.

Heat ignites within me once again.

Bucky cups my face with one hand and pulls me into a kiss. The tastes of eachother mixing, I can't quite tell what is what. But it's wonderful. Bucky pulls free and looks at me, I give him a hazy, expectant look. He strokes my cheek with his thumb and slides out of the car, walking around to my side. I furrow my eyebrows as he helps me out of the passenger seat. He pulls me to the hood of the car, pushing himself against me until the back of my legs hit the grill. He leans in and whispers against my ear, 'Still need to punish ya.' He drawls, a shiver running through my spine.

'Im begging you Chief.' I look at him thtough hooded, lustfilled eyes, 'Please punish me.' I groan, smiling.

His dick twitched at the word, making him close his eyes to keep his composure. Then suddenly bends down and finds purchase under my knees. In one swift motion, he pulls, and I fall back onto the hood, 'Wanting it defeats the purpose, doll.' He growls, then opens his eyes. But the sight before him makes him unravel.

Upperbody bent to the side in an effort to prop myself up on my forearms, thanks to my cuffs. Skirt over my hips and legs spread, core exposed and ready for him.

'Do you worst, please. Sir. . .' I whisper and grin.

His eyes snap to mine, and that "You're in for it now.' Expression returns, 'Fuckin brat.' He spits.

Then, he kneels. He fuckin kneels. A shiver runs up my spine a the sight, 'Some punishment, huh?' I ask, but he only smirks. Hooking my legs over his shoulders, and grabbing each thigh to keep them spread, then, without warning, he dives in.

I bite my cheek to stop myself from screaming, pulses of pleasure run through me like electric currents. He pushes his tongue inside me, feverishly licking at my juices, exploring my walls, burrying his face in my cunt. Nose pushing up against my clit, making my back arch deliciously. 'That all you can do?' I tease, grinding my hips against his nose, desperate to get some friction. But his eyes meet mine, glaring as he moves his hands to my hips, holding me steady.

He pulls back for a second, just to spit on my cunt, then hastily returning, chasing my clit. I gasp, burrying my cuffed hands in his hair, pulling him closer as I want more. Making him moan against me, his voice vibrating against my clit. My sight blurs from the pleasure, a knot tightening inside me 'More.' I beg, 'So close.'

His tongue slide out of me, and I whine. But he licks a stipe up my cunt and then attatches at my clit, sucking and nipping at my sensitivity. My body jolts, and I shut my eyes. 'You gonna cum?' He asks, voice muffled.

I can barely answer, pleasure overwhelming me as white specks my vision, 'Ye- yeah. . ' I moan, 'So close, ju- just like th-' I begin, about to reach my climax again, but suddenly.

He let's go, pushing himself off of my clit with on last lick and sits back on his heels, watching my unravel.

'No, please, Buck.' I squrim, whining at the loss of him. I try to pull him back, but he doesn't budge. 'I'm begging, please, please.' I whimper, closing my legs and pushing them together, moving my hips for any sort of friction to finish what he started.

'Mouthy brats dont get to cum.' He chuckles and grab my knees to pull them apart. I feel a tear roll down my cheek as the knot loosens again. In a last desperate effort, I pull my hands from his hair, burrying two fingers in me while my thumb rubs my clit. Just for a second, that exctatic feeling returns, blissful sparks ignite, until- he pushes his body between my legs to keep my thighs in place and grab my wrists, ripping them from my cunt. Then laughs, he laughs.

'Not funny.' I whimper.

'It is. . . Im not done even done yet.' He says, face glistening with my juices.

I fall back against the hood groaning, as the ache in my core reaches my bones. 'I need you so bad.' I whisper.

'What was that?' He asks.

'I need you. Buck please.' I whimper.

'Can't quite hear you, doll.' He mocks, hands squeezing tighter around my wrists.

'I fuckin need you inside me, ok?' I almost shout, 'Fuck me, hard. I'm begging, jus- just need you in me.'

'Yeah?' He laughs, standing up. Hooking his hands under my knees and slide me closer to him. His hand trace my skin to my waist, getting a tight grib. Then, in one smooth motion, he flips me to my stumache.

I can't help but gasp, 'Think you can act like a brat all night, and get away with it?' He asks, smaking my ass once. I yelp, the sting making my eyes water in the most delicious way. He lines himself up with my entrance, pushing on it slightly. His tip breeching.

'Please.' I whimper, muttering a string of curses. And without warning, he shoves himself inside. Again, I bite my cheek. Pleasure rolls through me, electrocuting every nerve. He grabs my hips, sinking his fingertips deep into my skin. Silently, I beg for them to leave bruises. Theres nothing hotter than a souvenir to remember him by.

He sets a hard pace, thrusting deeply. Pulling back almost all the way before forcefully pushing himself inside again, over and over. My brain doesnt function, I can't form words, all I can do is moan. The sound of slapping skin perfectly lewd in my ear. 'Harder Buck.' I request.

He leans down, grabbing my throat and pulling me flush against his chest, pushing his nose into my cheek, 'Yeah? This not enough for you?' He asks, grunting in my ear.

'Not enough, more.' I mewl.

His hand tightens his grip around my throat, cutting off just enough air to give me a dizzying euphoria. His other hands come down on my ass again, smacking hard as he thrusts deeper. Then re-grips your hip, using it to push and pull your, making our bodies come together even harder, 'Greedy girl, cant fuckn get enough huh?' He groans between breaths, hot against your skin.

I shake my head, the only answer I can manage as I feel my walls twitching, closing around him. He can feel it too, his hips stutter, throwing his thrusts of balance. He bites my ear, lightly tugging on it before kissing my cheek gently, then kissing down my neck.

A stark contrast to the rest of his movements, it's enough to make my head spin. It's almost too much. I feel the blinding pleasure threatening to spill inside me, 'You wanna cum girl?' He asks against the crook of my neck. I nod my head enthusiastically. 'Words doll, use your words.' He breathes.

'Ye- Yes, please.' I manage, 'Wanna cum so fucking bad, Chief.'

He grunts, hand slipping from my throat to my breasts, working them roughly. Palming, squeezing, pinching 'C'mon, cum for me doll.' He says between pants and immidietly, I topple over the edge. Pleasure blinding me as he continues thrusting, continues to assault my breasts. My body begins spasming, and my knees go week, 'Bucky. . . Fuck-' I groan, but he holds me up. All my senses feel like they're about to burst as he prolongs my orgasm, stretching it out in an exhuastingly wonderful way. He bites down on my shoulder, squeezing my breasts, muffled grunts escaping him as his own body spasms and his thrusts halt, his member finally filling me with seed.

He collapses on top of me as we catch our breaths, im so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.

I close my eyes for a second, but doesnt register Bucky pushing himself off of me, or him gathering me in his arms and laying me in the backseat. I don't feel him wrap his jacket around me, or the ride home.

But I do rouse from my sleep as Bucky carries me into my room and lays me down in my bed, he kisses me on the forehead, 'Hey doll.' He whispers, a soft smile on his lips.

I panic slightly as I realise that I'm home, 'Mom n' dad?' I ask anxiously.

'I made a good excuse, don't worry.' He strokes some hair from my face, 'Sleep. You need it. I'll go easier on you next time.' He promises.

'Next time?' I ask, a tired smile covering my face.

'Next time.' He assures, and you drift back to sleep. He stands up and walks to the doorway, silently watching you with admiring eyes as he carefully closes the door.

He tells your parents a made up backstory and they understand, happy to see him. They invite him to dinner next weekend and he happily accepts, he'd do anything to see you again.

He thinks about you the entire car ride home, in the shower as he beats himself off and in the morning as he wakes up with a hard on from dreams off you clenching around him.

He can do nothing but count the days until he sees you again, guranteeing himself it will be a memorable occasion.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfiction

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 2 years

Note

How about if Bucky was a police detective or a firefighter and ps!reader was like a baker or a nurse and she either Mets in the ER or her bakery and Bucky has like a girlfriend or someone he’s “talking” to and the someone notices that he goes in to the reader’s job more than usual and the girlfriend then goes to her job and says all this stuff but in the end Bucky and ps!reader end up together. Sorry for the rambling!!! 😅

༉‧₊˚. 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

― pairing: firefighter!bucky barnes x plus size!reader

― summary: falling for your avid customer bucky was never in the cards, but when a woman comes storming into your store calling you names, you began to think that he's not who he says he is.

― warnings: bullying, fat shaming, jealousy, hurt/comfort, stalking, mentions of stalking situations, angst, fluff, suggestiveness at the end, flirty bucky, angst with a happy ending.

― wc: 1482

⋆ a/n: thank you so much for this request! it was nice to work on an alternative universe fic, especially firefighter bucky!

masterlist | AO3

"Good morning sweetness!" Bucky greeted over the sound of your bell hitting the door. You flushed, rolling your eyes as you smiled shyly from behind the counter, brushing some flour off of your hands and onto your apron as you exited the kitchen. "Morning Buck. Same as usual?" He leaned on the glass casings of cupcakes, cakes, cake pops, and other assorted baked treats. Usually, you'd scold customers for dirtying up the glass, but when it came to Bucky, you didn't care.

Bucky was a firefighter with a particular sweet tooth, practically showing up to your establishment almost every day. He was very flirtatious, and heavy on the nicknames as he watched you carefully. At first, the nicknames irritated you, because you thought it was just another man abusing the power of his occupation to catcall a woman, but you saw how kind he was, sometimes even bringing his coworkers Steve & Sam with him. You began to appreciate his arrival, even anticipating his visits whenever you heard the bell sing its similar song.

"So, Doll. I was thinking that maybe you and me could go out to dinner tomorrow night." Butterflies fluttered inside of your stomach at his words, raising an eyebrow as you tried to play your shock off. "Are you asking me out on a date, James?" His grin grew wider as you referred to him as his actual name. "Would that be a problem if I was?" You reached into the casing, pulling out his three chocolate chip cookies he always gets. You knew they for himself, Sam, and Steve. Your heart grew at the selfless act.

"I suppose it wouldn't," You said with faux non-chalance, "Just name the time and place." As you handed him the little baggie full of goodies, you couldn't stop staring at each other with lovesick smiles, even as he left, you burning holes into his muscular back. It was always nice to be able to finish off the day with a smile.

The next day at work seemed to go by too slow for your liking, constantly checking the clock on the wall as you rung customers up.

"Looks like you have somewhere you're eager to be." Your best friend Wanda teased. You rolled your eyes, a tiny grin on your face as you shrugged. "Who knows?" You said playfully. Wanda nudged you with her shoulder, giggling as you feigned annoyance.

Your giggling was cut short by your door hitting the wall, a furious looking woman storming in.

"Which one of you is _______?!" She all but screeched. Your eyes were wide as Wanda rested a hand on your shoulder, giving you a look of concern. "It's okay Wands," You whispered to her, "I got this." Putting on a kind smile, you walked from behind the counter to greet her. This wasn't the first time you had angry customers, but you were always able to calm them down, even coming to an agreement of a refund.

"That's me!" You said with fake enthusiasm. "What can I do for you?" You asked. She just rolled her eyes; her body close to yours as she eyed you up and down. "Stay away from James you fat freak." You could hear gasps come from your customers as your heart fell into your stomach. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean." You said nervously, bile feeling like it was about to rise in the back of your throat.

"What I mean is that he's mine. So, I don't know what you think you're doing flirting with him, but it's got to stop. Now. I'm his girlfriend, and if I ever see you snooping around him ever again, there's going to be some problems." As she stepped closer, you stepped back. "And it's not like he'd ever go for someone as big as you are anyways. Even though he's a firefighter doesn't mean he deals with zoo animals too." She then plastered on a condescending smile. "So, he won't be coming back here anymore. Toodles." With that, she exited out of the store, leaving you standing there utterly humiliated as you tried to wrap your head around what just happened.

Why didn't you say anything? What was she talking about? Bucky had a girlfriend? There were all of these questions swirling in your minds as you felt Wanda's gently hand on your body once more, what she was saying falling on completely deaf ears as you stared at the glass door with your company name on it blankly. All you could do was turn your head to face her with a watery smile. "It's okay, Wands. I'm fine." Despite your words, you disappeared back into the kitchen where you allowed your tears to fall.

You stopped looking at the time, tending to the people that chose to sit in the booths, the college kids that always had study groups there. You knew Bucky was probably waiting for you, but you couldn't find it within your broken heart to care. You had no idea that he was a cheater, the cute — and what you thought was harmless — firefighter turned out to be a total prick. Maybe you got too hopeful. You fell into dark thoughts, ones that you hadn't dwelled on since you were in high school.

You closed up by yourself, bidding Wanda a fruitless goodbye as she held you in her embrace, whispering words of affirmation and encouragement into your ear. Wanda was a good person, the only one that could probably help pull you back from wherever you were falling from.

You were bent over wiping a table when you heard that familiar jingle.

"Sorry, but we're closed," You said, "Come back tomorrow! We open early in the morning." But the door never closed, the bracing breezes brushing up against the naked skin of your arms that your work shirt didn't cover. "I think I already know that." Bucky sounded from behind you. Your whole body froze, your grip on the wet rag tensing as you didn't even bother to look behind you.

"Go away, James." You said coldly. "No." You scoffed and finally turned around. He looked nice, clean shaven, his hair even styled when it was usually always out of place. He dressed up for you.

"I don't go dates with cheaters." You said simply. That made his eyebrows furrow. "Cheater? Doll, I'm single." That made anger bubble deep inside of you. "Oh trust me, I know you're not, because your psycho girlfriend came in my store and humiliated me in front of everyone!" Then, a look of understanding overtook his face, along with one of frustration.

"Goddamn it," Bucky groaned, "Fuckin' Dot." He walked up to you, taking one of your hands in his. You wanted to pull away from him, but the way his callused and worked fingers gripped yours was enchanting. "Baby, that woman... she's—" He gulped. He looked almost anxious. "She's an ex of mine. I broke it off with her and she went psycho. At first, I thought she could just leave me alone, but then... but then she started to stalk me, so I had to get a restraining order against her. It had recently just expired. I figured she had started stalking me again, but I hadn't expected her to be this... to be this bold." He ended with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, _____. I really am. I'm sorry she did that to you, you didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve to be dragged into my shit." You shook your head softly, raising a hand so that it could rest on his now stubble free cheek. "Yes, I didn't deserve it, but you didn't either, Buck. I wish you would have told me about this, yeah, but I understand why you didn't. You wouldn't have scared me away because... because I wanna be with you, and I was really fucking excited when you asked me to go on a date with you." Your thumb caressed his cheek.

He looked at you through his eyelashes, large palms hesitantly landing on your waist, giving you an out to pull away if the gesture made you too uncomfortable. It didn't, instead, it heated up your body, a pleasant warmth settling in your gut at the feeling.

"I would still be willing to go on that date, if you want." You asked. You were scared that he would say no, you did stand him up after all. "Well, the restaurant is closed, but I'm pretty sure that Chinese place is still open. We could order in and watch tv at my place?" You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. "You're not trying to get me alone so you can get in my pants, are ya, Buck?" You asked playfully. He only chuckled, leaning his head down and brushing his lips against yours.

"It all depends on how you want this night to go."

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood

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yourdoorisunlocked · 3 months

Text

What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 6

𝐀/𝐍: *Drops this and runs away* THANK ME LATER!

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒,𝟑𝟔𝟐 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: ʟᴀʙᴏᴜʀ | ᴘᴀʀɪꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴏᴍᴀ

“𝑵𝒐𝒘, 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚-𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒅𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒘𝒆’𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒘… 𝒂𝒅𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔.”

. . .

"And the budget for next month! Woof! I gotta tell ya', Doll, Alasta's been a real Godsent, ya' know what I'm sayin'?"

Hugo’s voice faded into a buzzing white noise as your thoughts drifted off yet again to your musings of the night you’d spent with a certain radio host, whose chiseled, soft features consumed your every waking thought.

Though the details were a complete blur, the sensation of Alastor’s warm embrace hugging around your frame was an unforgettable feeling that you’d be chasing for the rest of your days.

His addictive scent, laced with undertones of cinnamon and soft notes of expensive cologne had embraced you as you recalled his electrifying touch.

You couldn’t deny it any longer, you were surely holding a torch for the man, and according to Hugo, you were horrible at hiding it.

But honestly, who could blame you for falling so deeply? The past week that you’d spent with Alastor had been beautiful, as he had surprised you more and more with courteous, almost flirtatious gestures that grew in both audacity and frequency with each passing day.

Whether it be assorted, freshly picked bouquets that he’d set upon your bedside table for whenever you woke up, or beautiful dresses and tops that looked to be hand-tailored from a certain seamstress you’d become very well-acquainted with, or chocolates and sweets that he’d whip up himself, just for you, Alastor always delivered in full.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Alastor was trying to court you.

Really, it was like he was trying to make you melt on the spot with just how forward he was! It took everything in you not to swoon at his feet with each gift and memorable outing you shared.

“Hey, Doll? Ya’ go deaf, or somethin’?”

Blinking, you snapped out of your trance and wiped a subtle line of drool from your face as blush dusted your cheeks. Hugo narrowed his eyes at you with his hands on his hips as you pulled yourself back into reality.

“Sorry about that, sir. I was just thinking...” you smiled apologetically up at your supervisor, and you try not to tune him out as he starts rambling yet again. When will Alastor’s evening podcast begin, again?

“Uh-huh. Probably thinkin’ about your lil’ boy-toy in the next room over. Speakin’ a' Al’, I forgot to tell you that he’s workin’ overtime tonight. Told me to let ya’ know,” the blonde mentioned nonchalantly, startling you out of your daydreaming trance yet again.

“H-He’s working overtime now?”

Hugo groaned with exasperation. “Stars, Dollface, are ya’ gettin’ amnesic on me, now? Yeah, I was just tellin’ ya’, Al’s hours extended a bit. His request,” he shrugged, unaware of how you deflated in your office chair. You were really looking forward to your evening walk home with Alastor.

“Well, did he say why?”

Hugo shook his head. “Nope, didn’t mention a thing. But I can walk ya’ home, if ya'd like,” he offered with a bright, innocent smile, which brought your usual guard down, despite the risks. You’d always had a soft spot for the spiffing, young producer, since you’d always seen him as a little brother despite being your superior. It didn’t help that he acted like one, too.

And besides, Alastor would only give himself later hours if he thought about you in advance, wouldn’t he? He'd probably put Hugo up to the task of walking you home, the considerate sweetheart.

It wasn’t like you had any other choice, so with a soft smile, you nodded. “Sure! When do you leave?”

“Eh... Around five-thirty, on weekdays. Just thirty minutes after you leave, right?”

With a nod and a smile, you waved Hugo off. “Sure is. Now, get back to work, you! I have scripts that need editing.” He rolled his eyes as you scolded and dismissed him and made himself busy around the radio station.

Once the brilliant, baby blue sky had slowly begun to fade into a reflective navy with nary a star yet in sight, your workday had finally ended, and you were finally free to go.

With a relieved sigh and a stretch of your knuckles, you grabbed your bearings and met Hugo by the front door as a few people had begun filing out of the station. You supposed some others were working late, as well, since some of the usual faces weren’t racing home from work like you and Alastor.

A sudden reminder of your usual stroll buddy made you turn to Hugo hopefully. “Oh, Hugo, can I say goodbye to Alastor? I’ll be quick, I promise!”

Hugo chuckled and shook his head with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Doll. Al’ said he'd needed to be alone for a while at the end of the workday and told me to just get ya’ home.”

He raised an eyebrow down at your disappointed frown, and he was reminded of how it seemed you two couldn’t seem to spend an hour apart, let alone an entire day.

Throughout the day, Alastor had asked at least a dozen times if he could take a small break simply to spend time with you, but Hugo didn’t need you two love birds distracting each other, not since he caught the both of you spending your lunch break together in Alastor’s recording booth.

You had both spent twenty minutes past your break simply to chat and nuzzle noses together like a couple of awkward teenagers under the bleachers, until Hugo found you, though he teased the daylights out of you, rather than reprimand you. He knew better than to step on the toes of Al’s girl.

Jeez, these kids are hopeless, ain’t they?

“C’mon, now, don’t look so glum,” Hugo tried to be comforting as he put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure that Al' misses you just as much as you miss ‘im, so don’t get ya’self down.” He smiled down at you as you perked up.

“You think?” You peeked up at Hugo as he walked you out the door and onto the sidewalk with an arm slung over your shoulder.

“Got ya’ interest now, don’t I?” The blonde teased with a smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows, making you groan. “So, how’s it been down in good ol’ Lover’s Lane~?”

“I’ve already told you, Hugo, it isn’t like that!”

“Uh-huh, and I’m a monkey’s uncle.”

“Well, that monkey won’t have an uncle if you don’t drop this!”

The walk home consisted of your teasing and playful back-and-forth as the sky darkened further, and the glow of a few streetlamps had been left as the only light source illuminating your path.

Suddenly, you halted right in front of the diner you and Alastor had tried from a few weeks ago, and Hugo stopped with you.

“Uh... Ya’ sure this is the place, Doll?” He looked around for a moment, surveying the complete lack of civilization around you, just a snug little diner tucked into acres of forest, and far from the city.

You shook your head up at Hugo. “Nope, I’m just pickin' up dinner for Al' and I."

“Aw, what a Doll. Alasta' should count 'imself lucky to find a lady like you,” he ruffled your hair with a grin, and you rolled your eyes and fixed your now ridiculous-looking locks.

“Alright, so, I’ll drop ya’ off here, but you gotta promise ya’ won’t get kidnapped, or somethin’?” You rolled your eyes up at him with a fond grin before fixing up Hugo’s hair with a flair of your own and met his playful gaze.

“I’ll be fine, Hugo. Thank you for walking me home. Now go on, get out of here," you batted at him playfully as he walked off into the night, laughter echoing off the sidewalks stretching past the lone diner.

“Take care of ya’self, Doll, for my sake?” Hugo called back as you waved.

“I will!"

Once he had left, you headed into the quaint restaurant, smiling at the new receptionist as you made your way down the aisle.

“Hiya! Can I get two bowls of jambalaya? To-go, please!”

. . .

The soft crackle of the fire and the mellow turning of pages filled the deafening silence in the living room of Alastor’s mansion, the peaceful atmosphere heavily veiling the inner worry that conjured up a whirlwind of a headache as you tried to focus on the book in your hands.

It was a romance that you were in the middle of reading, though it was surprising to find such a rarity in Alastor’s library, since much of his selection consisted of thrillers and horror. Though this book was no different, you supposed, since it consisted of a healthy amount of gore sprinkled in between scenes.

You had re-read the same sentence at least five times, before looking over to the grandfather clock sitting snugly next to the mantel. Your hourly disappointment had flickered into irritation with each glance you took at the old thing.

The smaller hand that seemed to slowly tick by had decided to pick that evening to speed up its journey against the clock’s marble face as the hours passed, and your worry grew.

It was now nearly midnight, and you were just about ready to start leading a torch-wielding brigade out into the forest to search for Alastor, when a knock jolted you out of your seat.

There’s only one man who’d stray out this far at this audacious hour...

You look past the kitchen to the front door and crept up to it as hopefulness and irritation conflicted with one another in your chest.

You opened the door with a sigh of relief as Alastor’s frame towered over you with his familiar smile, though you didn’t miss how it twitched slightly at the tips.

You watched him with a concerned gaze as he stepped inside.

“Terribly sorry for the wait, my dear! Truly, I apologize, but I had to take care of a few things,” You wanted to slap Alastor for worrying you to the brink of re-reading the same mushy paragraph for an hour and being so dismissive about his disappearing act when he finally returned, but you were too concerned about his well-being to let your anger fully boil over.

“Welcome home, Al’,” you hesitated for a moment, watching as he sped into the kitchen with purpose, clearly adamant on making you dinner in the middle of the night.

“Are you... Alright?” You raised an uncertain eyebrow as he started rummaging through the cabinets, either unresponsive or flat-out ignoring you as you stood awkwardly in the doorway.

With a hesitant step forward and a reluctant sigh, you placed your hand on Alastor’s shoulder and tried not to flinch away as he whirls toward you with wild eyes.

“Hm? Is there something that you need, my dear?” Alastor inwardly cringed at how relentlessly cheerful he sounded, like an overworked mascot at a run-down theme park.

You give the man a once-over, glaring at him, unimpressed as you noted how disheveled he looked. “Alright, what’s going on?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

You pinched your nose bridge with an exhausted sigh. He really didn’t want to be easy about this, did he? Alright, then. Time to be the bad cop.

“First, you come back home at an ungodly hour, looking like you’ve taken a tumble with a rabid racoon and lost,” Alastor rolled his eyes at that comment, “Second, you’re running around the kitchen the way you do whenever something’s bothered you. And you know that you can tell me if something’s bothering you,” your eyes soften towards him as you reach up and unclip his bow, and Alastor’s eyes follow your delicate, soft hands as you place it on the counter and smooth out his the front of his rumpled dress shirt.

“Look... I don’t know what’s going on, or what’s bothering you, or why the hell you came back so late, but...” your concerned gaze trailed up his form, and Alastor nearly shrunk like a raisin under your scrutinization.

“But you can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

“Anything?” Alastor pressed, his foolish heart answering the call for him as your voice grew hopeful, begging him to open up to you.

“Yes, anything. I mean it, Alastor.”

A silent moment fell between the both of you, one in which you felt as if all the tension in the world had suddenly been sucked into the kitchen, tightening the air as you held your breath and waited for Alastor to say the word, to tell you whatever was going on.

No matter how gruesome his actions, no matter the cost, you’d stay by his side. You’d bury the body and wipe the fingerprints; you'd dispose of the witnesses and give the police station false tips. Anything to keep Alastor safe. Anything to keep him by your side.

And Lord knows that you’d let the man get away with murder...

You can only sigh dejectedly as he gives his answer with apologetic eyes. “I’m afraid not, my dear. Besides,” he rubbed your shoulders soothingly. “I can get along just fine, don’t you worry your pretty little head over me.”

Alastor, goddamn him, had flashed the most heart-warming, knee-buckling smile down at you, genuine and unwavering, and nearly all of your resolve evaporated in an instant. How funny, how you both had such an effect on one another without the other noticing.

Alastor nearly cracked under your gentle touch, and that word, that ‘anything’ had begged him to prod you. Test the limits of your loyalty, of your attraction to him.

And Alastor was sure he wouldn't be disappointed.

But Alastor’s head, the instincts of a predator, the mind of a realist, had grounded him down to earth. The radio host knew better than anyone not to mix business with pleasure, and that involving you would risk your finding out about his line of work, and his... tendencies.

You sighed, your grip tightening on the counter before stepping back. Alastor never pried into your life, and it wasn’t your business to force him into telling you anything. “Alright... If you say so. But I’m always here, Alastor.”

A hesitant hand carefully inches towards his, and a soft gasp of surprise leaves your lips as Alastor’s hand comes to encompass yours with a squeeze.

“I know, my dear. And aren’t you just a sweetheart for looking out for me~?” You couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed with him as he tucked a hair behind your ear and fluffed up your hair, before stepping away towards the stove.

“Now, if you’ll allow me, I’m afraid that dinner is quite overdue.”

“About that, I’ve already gotten a little somethin’ for the both of us, so you don’t need to worry,” Alastor raised an eyebrow, a strong wave of déjà vu hitting him as you pushed him out of the kitchen, before pulling out the two bowls of jambalaya you'd gotten from the diner.

You’d warmed it up quite nicely, and though the meal was delicious, it couldn’t have even compared to the wonderful dish you’d made Alastor your first night sleeping at the manor, as he’d remarked several times during dinner, reveling in your flustered blush at the endless stream of praise.

After you’d both had your fill, and Alastor finished washing the dishes, you both started to head up to bed, and you tugged on his sleeve with a serious look.

“Please, please try to get a good night’s rest, Alastor,” he chuckled softly down at you, as if your concern was completely unbased, but you didn't laugh, clearly adamant about him taking better care of himself.

What a good little wife you’d make, taking care of him, cleaning up the house for his arrival, editing his scripts and making him dinner, though Alastor hated the thought of you having to lift a single finger in his stead.

Alastor filed those thoughts away for later as he smiled gently and cupped your cheek with his hand as he bent down to your level, his pointed nose nearly brushing against yours. “I promise, darling. I won’t worry you anymore,” before a scarlet blush could fully race across your cheeks, Alastor abruptly stood and patted your head with a grin. “Now, off to bed with you. I’d feel simply terrible if you lost sleep over me.”

Huffing in disbelief, you ignored the burn flaring against your cheeks as you turned on your heel with your nose in the air. “You’re lucky I care for you, so much...”

You grumbled all the way back to your room, though you cast another weary glance at Alastor as he retired for the night into his own bedroom.

His prominent slump in the way he walked, the slight limp in his footsteps, it all seemed so obvious to you that something was horribly wrong. But if he wouldn’t open up to you about it, you couldn’t do anything but watch your friend suffer, and you hated that.

Still, there was nothing you could do but lose shut eye as you fret over Alastor most of the night, tossing and turning as you struggled to get sleep while wondering what in the world Alastor was doing, creeping around in the dead of night, and wondering what had happened to him.

Honest to God, Al’, if you give me one more reason to care about you...

. . .

Unfortunately, despite your pleads and Alastor’s poorly kept promise, the evenings that followed had spiraled into a concerning routine for the radio host.

You could only watch with worry that slowly burned into frustration as Alastor would arrive home during near midnight, start dinner, – but eat in his own room, which pleased neither of you – and leave you downstairs with a tired goodnight, and rinse and repeat.

The mornings hadn’t fared much better, either. Instead of Alastor taking your elbow in his, humming a little tune as he walked the both of you to work, he’d wake up at a baffling five in the morning and leave you with a quick spot of breakfast and some money for the bus fare.

It was an endearing thought that showed Alastor still thought of you, but it did nothing to shake your concern for him.

Upon the fifth night of this draining charade, you were on the brink of tearing your hair out by the bunches. Fuck respecting Alastor’s boundaries, you couldn't watch him destroy himself anymore.

You had very thoroughly planned to corner him about this, but while waiting for Alastor’s return on the couch, the hour was so late that you had fallen asleep beside the fireplace.

It was only in the very dead of night that you were startled out of your uncomfortable place on the cushions by the click of the front door, and you looked over to the clock to see it was two in the morning.

About goddamn time.

Somehow, Alastor knew you were downstairs as soon as he entered the house, and didn’t flinch, jump, or even blink as you magically appeared in front of him, glaring up at him with ire. Or perhaps he really was just that exhausted.

“Hello, darling.”

God, he just looked so tired, so done with whatever was getting him down that it nearly broke you down. You hated seeing Alastor like this, drained and sapped of all his usual, passionate energy that had once drawn you in for so long.

“We need to talk. Now.”

You didn’t even wait for his response as you gently took his hand and led him into the living room, the ticking of the grandfather clock and the short, frustrated breaths you exhaled filling the tense air between you.

You forced yourself to be stern with Alastor as you sat across from him with your legs crossed and arms folded as your sharpened gaze scrutinized him.

Rubbing your forehead, you sighed and muttered into the awkward air, “Okay, I think it’s time that we’ve talked about your work hours.”

You rolled your eyes as he started with his usual excuses.

“I’ve told you, I’m doing just fine, darling. I promise, I'm still eating, and I'm just dealing with a few things-" you cut him off with a hand in the air, before leaning over and taking his hands in yours, trying at a less confrontational approach.

“But why? Why work yourself to the bone like this? What could possibly be stressing you out so much, and for so long? Alastor...”

Said radio host sighed softly, unable to meet your pleading eyes. Alastor truly couldn’t answer your inquiries, no matter how much you begged him.

He’d lose everything if he told you half of what went down behind closed doors, when the rest of society wasn’t paying attention to him.

Perhaps someday... But not now. The time just isn’t right.

“I... I admit, I haven’t been as attentive to you as I should’ve been. I apologize, truly.” Alastor’s fingers grasped yours as he stared into the wood carvings of the table legs. “I just don’t want you to worry over me. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

"No, that isn't... Please, Al', just... Let me help you this time,” you sniffled and brought his chin up to meet your eyes that were on the verge of tears, and Alastor knew he couldn’t say no. Goddamn him if he ever let you cry because of his actions.

“Alright... You win, my dear,” he complies, albeit reluctantly, but the sheer joy that coursed through you was too alleviating for you to notice Alastor’s defeated posture as you literally jumped over the table to hug him.

“Good. Don't you scare me like that ever again, you."

You squeezed his midsection into an embrace, and it was then Alastor noted how comically short you were compared to him.

"I promise, ma chère."

He pet you with a chuckle, his other hand coming around to rub your shoulder as his mind was already racing back to the radio station, and your new arrangement.

"What does that mean?" You looked up at him from where you were, and Alastor simply shook his head and ran his hand through your hair.

"Nothing you should worry yourself over, darling. Now, I believe the matter at hand calls for a discussion," you blinked as he stood up and twirled you around, enjoying your delighted stream of giggles.

"Now, we should discuss the matter at hand," he pulled you into his chest with revived energy and you landed with a soft 'omph!'

"I believe that you, choosing to... Help me out, as it were," you raised an eyebrow as Alastor practically choked it out.

"Should imply that you are willing to become my assistant?" He raised an eyebrow down at you as your eyes widened with delight.

"Oh, yes! That'll be perfect!" You pulled closer to him with stars in your eyes, and Alastor's smile - not strained, nor exhausted of all energy, a real, genuine smile from him - grew as you beamed up at him.

“Don’t get too excited, now. Being my assistant is no easy task.”

You shook your head, grounded in your idea. “It’ll be worth it, if it helps you.”

“If you say so," Alastor grinned down at you. There it was, that relentless need to please him and care for him the way he did for you. Doing good brought its own rewards, he supposed. "But this will only work if Hugo allows it, you know.”

“Oh, boo! He’ll go with anything I ask of him. Worst-case scenario, he’ll tease me until the cows come home,” you pulled away from Alastor and crossed your arms, unaware of how he tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"I suppose that's a given... Though, I think he'll be just fine without you. The only real change will be your working area," you brightened at the prospect of being able to spend time with Alastor in his own work area, just the two of you, alone, and for the entire day.

"Then again, I’m not particularly fond of the idea of you running about the streets, running my errands for me...”

You shrug. “I’ll be fine! I didn’t manage to get kidnapped when I got you dinner that one time, so I’m sure I can handle myself,” you waved him off with a dismissive hand, and Alastor’s eyebrow raised.

“And wherever did you get our dinner from the other night, dearest?”

You flushed at the nickname and muttered, “Oh, just the diner across the road...”

“And what have I told you about wandering off, without me by your side?”

“It was one time! And I survived, so I’ll be alright! Just trust me,” you took his hands with pleading eyes. “Just have a little more faith in me? Please?”

“Oh, my pretty little assistant... What shall I ever do with you~?” Alastor curled a hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, enjoying the rapid thumping of his heart as pure contentment consumed him from the feeling of your skin against his.

He grinned down at you as you groaned and buried your face into a pillow, the smug bastard.

Though the gentlemanly of him was absolutely appalled at the idea of you lifting a finger to help him, Alastor figured that perhaps having a little helper around to deal with the less... gruesome aspects of his line of work could be fruitful.

He’d get his job done faster, and you’d be even closer to him than ever before.

And he’d have his shadows to send to your side to keep an extra eye on you, and he’d be there in a flash to come to your aid. Plus, this would be a delicious opportunity to indulge in his little assistant fantasies that had been consuming him as of late.

It would be all the more easier to woo you when you were so close to him, wouldn’t it?

“Now, darling, for you to become my fully-fledged assistant, we’ll need to make a few... adjustments.”

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Ok, so I am about to drop some Alastor-based BANGERS next chapter. I'm trying to focus more on the plot for now, so expect more development in the story later.

But first, let's all take a break from the beloved deer man and give Vox some love (totally not biased in any way whatsoever) because I've been starving everyone in Vox Nation 😭 So I gotta leave ya'll hanging for now.

See you next time!

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid, @slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie

#alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #yourdoorisunlocked #✨tHe pLoT tHiCkEns✨#Buckle up for the next chapter lmao #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #yandere alastor x reader #possessive behavior #obsession

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yuadokjon · 4 months

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you dare breakup with me?

summary: you dare to break up with sukuna. via text.

-----

"I think we should break up."

Almost an hour later since you've texted him that and still nothing. Typical. Sukuna wasn't the most responsive person, but you had still foolishly hoped something like this would elicit something more than the usual automatic acknowledgement. Anchored only by the tiny timestamp underneath, the text had long drifted among a sea of other blue bubbles before finally being swallowed up by the blackened screen. You half-swore he left these read receipts on just to torment you. He would see your messages - this one almost instantly - but wouldn't respond for hours or days at a time, if at all. Everything was always to be on his schedule. His whim. His mercy. And yet you gave in to it all every time. Every. Damn. Time. Typical. But not tonight.

The phone's screen had darkened long ago, only your tear-stained reflection staring blankly up at you. You tapped the surface and blinked at the white numbers that confirmed your self-imposed deadline was now up. An hour. That was all that you had given him and, even then, most might say an hour more than he deserved. You were tired. Just so tired and done. Tired of his games. The forgotten dates. The long nights alone. The blush of pink across a collar, the wisp of foreign perfume, the mysterious texts, the fights, the tears. Done.

Your thumbs seemed to move on their own as you absentmindedly re-opened the app to text someone else. A flurry of messages back and forth later, and Choso had invited himself to stay for the night -- with some cult slashers, boba, and assorted snacks in tow -- and refused to take no for an answer. You smiled into your pillow. He truly was the best. No matter what you were going through, Choso had proven time and time again that he would always be there for you. And, hell, you were going through a lot tonight. So you relented and even managed a laugh when he sent back a gif of a happily dancing panda. Deciding to clean up a bit before the arrival of your best friend, you dragged yourself out from the cavern of your covers to make your way to the restroom.

As you splashed the cool water across your face, you felt your heart starting to sink again as thoughts of him started to swarm. You eyed the second toothbrush and piled clothes in the corner, and the heaviness seemed to seep out and down into the very edges of your limbs. You gripped the sink and shut your eyes, thickly swallowing back the whimpers that eventually escaped as a surprised cry at a sudden knock on your front door. Choso arrived earlier than you expected. You pathetically sniffed and wiped away at your face. You didn't want your best friend to see you like this. But as you made your way to the front, you felt the tears threatening to overflow again and your steps quickened. You swung the door open and collapsed into the arms of your guest, broken sobs that hiccuped endlessly once the dam had broken.

"H-he's s-such an asshole," you cried into your friend's chest and felt him stiffen under your arms. You were sorry to put Choso into this position, again. How many times had he warned you about him? Hadn't he already told you how much of an asshole he was from day one? You were such an idiot. You should've listened to your friend and spared yourself the many heartbreaks. You squeezed him tighter, hoping he could somehow feel your thoughts through your embrace. It was only when he moved his arms that you noticed the familiar black bands encircling them and froze.

"Who's such an asshole, doll?"

You recoiled back at the inquiry purred into your ear, lightning strikes erupting across your skin and every cell in your body screaming to run. You could feel your heart thumping loudly within your throat, fighting for space with the words that were caught there. You barely managed to croak out the correct identity of your nightly visitor as you gazed upon his marked visage in stark terror:

"S-sukuna...."

A pair of bright scarlet eyes glowered down at your trembling form while a sinister crescent broke out from under their shine. The sickly sweet voice asked again with an amused tilt of the head and a dangerous step forward, the words now tinged with interrogation:

"Who's such an asshole?"

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fic #sukuna #choso x reader #choso fic #choso #jjk #fics

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feasibilities · 4 months

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Sweet As Honey - Patricia 'Kitten' Braden x AFAB Client!Reader ⚢

Warnings: Prostitution, Pet Names, Teasing, Overstimulation, Pining (like really badly), Love at first sight, P in V, Soft!Dom/Sub Aspects, etc. Author's Note: I wouldn't have survived the year if I didn't write something about the goddess that is Patricia 'Kitten' Braden. A beauty who deserves everything good in this world. I was shook making the GIF above but that's neither here nor there. Enjoy!

“Am I really about to do this?” You thought as you stared at the red neon ‘GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS’ sign outside of Xanadu. Opening the door, you met the confused glance of a John—and the smell of cigarettes & cheap perfume. You quickly brushed past him and went to the front desk. Setting a few dollars on the counter, the madame gave you change.

“Booth 7, darlin’.” She purred, looking you up & down. You hesitantly walked to the booth and shut the door. Sliding 4 coins into the slot, the booth’s window slid open. You were met with the gamine beauty on the other side.

“Hello, sir. What’s your name?” Patricia hummed, rocking back & forth on her flower-covered swing. Her view of you was obscured, so she assumed you were among her male clientele.

“Y/N.” You spoke softly into the shoddy microphone. You felt your temperature rise after hearing her silken voice. Tilting her head, Patricia barely managed to hide her surprise that a woman was behind the wall. Giggling to herself, she decided to toy with you.

“So…what brings you here, sweetheart?” Patricia inquired, already knowing the answer.

“Just looking for some company, I suppose…” You trailed off as you stared through the window. She was wearing a blue silk nightie & her hair was curled beautifully. Thoughts of the beauty that lie underneath were too much to bear.

“You can go to your local pub for company. Why are you really here, love?” Patricia purred, running her hands in between her smooth legs. You caught yourself rutting against the velvet chair before you realized she asked you a question.

“To fuck.” You admitted, hoping she’ll accept your offer.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” She teased. Standing up, she walked to the booth window and stared inside at you. Her blue eyes widened with curiosity. It took every ounce of restraint to not kiss her.

“A pretty little doll, aren’t you?” She praised. Your heart fluttered at her words.

“I normally don’t do this but…” She trailed off, pulling a gold key from her bra. She unlocked the booth’s door and took your hand in hers. Pulling you to her bedroom, she quickly shut the door. Paper dolls & Marilyn Monroe posters covered the wall. Her vanity had a wonderful assortment of makeup and perfume bottles. A beautiful canopy hung over her bed with a mirror on the ceiling.

“C’mere, darling.” She whispered as she pulled you closer. Taking some initiative, you slipped the sheer robe off her shoulders. She followed suit by reaching under your shirt and unfastening your bra. You moaned when her cool fingers teased your nipples. She hushed you with a fervid kiss. You whimpered softly when she nipped at your bottom lip. Pulling away, you saw that her lipstick was smeared and her pupils were dilated. Desire boiled over in the resplendent room.

You took off the rest of your clothing as she watched with starved eyes. Growing impatient, you began to untie the silk strings of her nightie before she stopped you once more. “Patience is a virtue, my love. Lay down.” She chastised sweetly. You followed her orders and soon felt her lay next to you. Sliding her hand between your legs, she grazed the sensitive flesh of your clit. You bit your lip as you ached for her touch. She slipped her fingers inside and pressed against the spongy flesh of your g-spot. A wicked smile formed across her face when you gasped and your legs began shaking.

“Mhmm…” She purred, nipping at the flesh of your collarbone. Her fingers sped up while her plump lips moved to your nipple. You watched yourself in the mirror above the bed. You got off on the salacious visual and the sounds of your arousal gushing around her fingers. Her tongue swirled around the delicate bud as you unraveled. Your vision blurred as your climax took possession of your body. You cried out Patricia’s name like a Hail Mary. She held you close as you rode out your high.

Removing her mouth from your nipple, strings of saliva clung to her lips as she stared up at you. She put her coated fingers in her mouth, savoring your taste. “Sweet as honey, beloved.” She whispered, sending chills through your body. She sat up to remove her nightie & was just as beautiful as you thought. You kissed her shoulder softly and moved your hand to her dick. Stroking gently, you heard her whimper. You held her in place as you stroked faster. She moaned sweetly as her eyes fluttered shut. Soon after, ejaculate began spurting out of her onto her torso. Her mewls were like music to your ears.

“I..I don’t think I can take much more, sweetheart.” She relented.

“Of course you can.” You said, kissing her neck.

You pulled her down on the bed and straddled her. She hastily slid into you and thrusted her hips upward, bottoming out. A indecorous moan left your lips. She responded with murmurs of pleasure. Adjusting to her size, you started to grind slowly. Patricia stared up at you with appreciative eyes. Her pouty disposition, messy hair, and flushed cheeks almost made you cum once more.

“So beautiful…” You praised, trying to keep the floodgates from bursting.

“Just- mmm, just like you.” She replied, feeling the elixir of your arousal drip down her shaft. She ran her fingertips up your legs before stopping at your sides. She wrapped her arms around you and started thrusting at a searing pace. You buried your face in her neck and weeped at the overstimulation. She smelled sweet, especially of Chanel No. 5. Sounds of skin hitting skin filled the room. You tried to squirm out of her grip, but to no avail.

“Hold still, sweet pea. We’ll be done soon.” She breathed as your walls fluttered around her. You cycled through one high after another before going numb. Patricia stared up at the mirror again and fell in love with the visual of herself plowing into you. The thin layer of sweat on her face made her glow. Seeing you pant in her ear made her want to pull out and finish all over your face. However, she wanted to hold back her 2nd orgasm until you were deranged with pleasure.

Your voice was a raspy whisper from constant pleas of mercy. The numbness from earlier faded as she started rutting against your g-spot once more. Your legs began to tremble involuntarily as another tsunami of delectation washed over you. Patricia finally followed suit as her thrusts staggered and hot ropes of seed spilled into you.

“Fuck…” You groaned, drawing out the monosyllabic word. You made sure to clench tighter to drain every drop of her. Patricia whimpered once again as she throbbed inside of you. You kissed her lovingly while she held you close.

Things were silent for a bit as you two admired each other. She massaged the soft flesh of your hips. You toyed with one of her blonde curls. “Look at you, all fucked out, aren’t ya?” She giggled, examining the leftover tears around your eyelashes. You gave her a weak smile as reality started to creep back in. You understood that this gorgeous maiden didn’t belong to you, and this could be the last time you saw her.

“I love you.” Patricia declared, virtually reading your mind.

"I love you too." You replied, trying to hide your excitement for what was to come.

#mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy?#patricia braden x reader #breakfast on pluto #kitten braden #wlw smut #lesbian #sapphic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #kitten braden x reader #fanfiction #my writing #wlw fanfic

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deadgirlkisses · 6 months

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a.n: guess who's back! yup, it's me, hehehe! didn't mean to run off for a while guys, i've just been extremely busy :( bare with me guys! anyways, i love nerdy! ellie williams so this is for the sweet girls who love her too!

c.w: modern!ellie williams, college/university AU, fem! reader, socially awkward ellie (hhehe), kinda dom!reader and sub!ellie (idfk), TONS of blabbering, didn't really read proofread, in lowercase on purpose

♡

currently thinking about ellie williams, a stoic & quiet woman that 9 times out of 10, is questioning how she got into a relationship with YOU, the sweetest girl on the block. the girl who always had every shade of pink in her closet. the girl who always made sure her outfits were as cute as ever. the girl that was the living, breathing definition of "doll". the girl known for all the pink throughout campus, "mrs. always in pink" they would say. it was quite simply anyways,

ellie had been looking for a new guitar as hers had broken due to unfortunate circumstances (she was trying too hard to be a rockstar and smashed it CONTINUOUSLY not thinking about the after effects of the guitar) when someone with the sweetest scent of vanilla and strawberry had suddenly swished past her paired with a simple "excuse me" causing her to nearly get whiplash to look at who that may have been as they made their way past.

she recognised the scent, she had smelt it almost all the time when she was in her lectures that she only attended when she felt like, she recognised that voice too, the one she heard when asking and answering questions to her other peers around the room and with dina, jesse and (unfortunately) abby, your friends. upon turning around, she could tell who you were just from the bright baby pink skims dress you had on, your matching pink kate spade bag adorned with a hello kitty charm, she knew it was you.

she couldn't understand what was going on with her, her hands started to become sweaty as she held the guitar, her fingers kept on missing the right strings to strum as she watched you diligently, picking up the pink electric guitar you found. her hair, up in her usual half bun admiring the way you tuned the guitar with your acrylic nails with different assortments of charms and hand drawn images of designs on them that she thought made your hands look so delicate.

it's not like she hadn't stared at you like this before. as stated before, she would attend lectures when she felt like, and when she did feel like attending, it was because she knew you would be there. you two shared a course together and had a class at the same time which gave her countless opportunities to admire you and even talk to you but sadly, her dorkiness over came her and never let her try.

you on the other hand were open to speaking to her, you did know her from your lectures together though you never truly had a good one on one conversation which left you in suspicion of her. who was she truly? why was she constantly looking at you? why was she kind of cute? why did you want her to do you dirty and rough in this very guitar store? let's face it, you weren't oblivious to her constant glances at you. in fact, you thrived on it. you in turn though did act like you wouldn't notice only to allow yourself to take in her.

she didn't have much muscle and she was constantly rumbling about space but you thought it was cute. her front strands of hair falling to cover parts of her face as she looked away from you as you silently strummed away to your favourite song, you felt the intense glare pointed to your fingers. you never thought anything about your fingers except for your nails, always perfectly done in a specific pattern or colour. you can't lie, the way she was looking at your fingers did quite literally make you feel some way...

ellie could never think she would find you here, she never thought that a pretty girl like you could even be around her. but, with the way you two were at the same place and knew of each other, she might as well pluck up the courage and actually talk to you. swiftly, she walked up to you and, with all the confidence she mustered up, finally muttered a small "hey there" to which she made a mental note to never start with a conversation with that.

turning around, you stopped playing your tune and went on with a "oh ellie, didn't see you there!" although you knew she was always there. this did make ellie feel quite bad but at least you "never noticed" her constant ogling at you. after a skip of atleast 4 heart beats, ellie realised who she was talking to and came back to her senses to actually carry the conversation "yeah, i was checking out for guitars. i didn't know you played it...".

you could tell she was trying to be slick, but with the way she constantly glanced at your fingers did make you want her a bit more than usual today. "i've been playing for 7 years now, and i thought i should try electric guitars since i mostly play bass," and now she was completely immersed in your full, glossed lips as you spoke. you didn't know whether to keep going or just leave her be but something made you say "ellie, my eyes are up here."

ellie felt a wave of embarrassment pool up her stomach as she started to blabber out quick apologies here and there. as she struggled to look into your eyes, you could see her tense up much at he way you kept the conversation while attentively keeping up with her body language "the Eastcoast ST1 in pink... you like pink a lot don't you? i mean i can tell with the way you always wear pink and have almost everything of yours in pink and the way you look like the embodiment of pink, it suits you since you're pretty and sweet and so attractive and- i'm sorry, i'm saying way too much aren't i?"

the amount of words spewing out of her mouth caught you off guard but the way she had to stop herself from complimenting you more was what made you utter out words she never thought you would say to her:

" i could kiss you right now, thank you sweetie! "

ellie didn't know if that was a just a statement or a demand but she really wouldn't mind if you did anyways. heat rushed through out leaving her with the colour of strawberries imprinted on her cheeks. "i wouldn't really mind getting a kiss from you anyways but i don't think you actually would" in which she never expected to happen, in a flash of moments,

" who said i wouldn't, hm?"

to which you placed two kisses on each of her cheeks and walked off. no words. no words but baffled was what ellie was. she truly didn't believe in manifestation but having a pretty girl like you kiss her RIGHT AFTER telling her that you would never kiss her and dreaming of those lips on her was absolutely baffling. maybe she did believe in all of that manifestation, "law of attraction" or whatever. as she watched you leave, you abruptly made a stop, causing her to wonder why you would have stopped till you looked directly at her and told her,

" and my fingers could do way more than strumming guitar strings, you know? "

and with that, you left, without a guitar in hand and with a flustered ellie williams wondering how she even got there. manifestation, she'll definitely look into it...

-xoxo, rue

♡

#rue rantz #black girl blogger #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x blk!reader #nerd!ellie #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #the last of us #the last of us 2

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sweetie-peaches · 6 months

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Because I feel like putting my mid to lower middle class experiences on Sunny

I think sunny on saturdays would run to the small tv Tubbo made her(that other then federation propaganda only plays up to 2010’s cartoons) in her trailer to watch the early morning cartoons

I think she’d love scooby doo, specifically daphne and my little pony, and pound puppies, and of course winx club

she’d beg Tubbo for the toys from the adds. And tubbo would do his best to replicate them for her with what materials he had.

I think they would find tiny scraps of stuffing and cloth and tie them together to make little dolls, dressing them up with assorted bits and pieces they find from tubbos factory

She’d eat the finest meals on zoopals paper plates

I think Tubbo would find some old holiday magazines for them, and let her go through them and ‘shop’ by taking a pen and circling what she wanted. Even if they couldn’t physically get it, they still loved every minute of their “shopping”

#I’ve seen a lot of people talking about Sunny being a trailer park princess #and yeah #I think it fits them #peaches posts #qsmp qosts #qsmp #qsmp tubbo #qsmpblr #tubbo #qsmp sunny #sunnysideup the egg

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verity-hollow · 3 months

Note

*a doll approaches, unsure of what to offer that hasn't already been given. but it wants to offer something all the same. and so, in its own clumsy little way, it hopes to offer its time. sitting with the motionless one, listening to the world with it, waiting, perhaps, for something to happen - even if it knows that it won't.

the motionless doll is worth its time, after all. no matter whether something happens or not, it wishes to give the time that it can.*

For weeks, a doll sat motionlessly, rendered inert by stress fractures on its core and shell alike. Every few days, a person, a doll, or some other entity or being has visited the still doll and left a gift. An token or gesture perhaps to wish for the doll's happiness and future, or to venerate a fallen soul. Many have come, but few have stayed for longer than the moments needed to leave their offering and move on.

The doll has been given a small assortment of treasures, but this new visiting doll, like the smaller one that came before it, bequeathed a gift more precious and healing than any of the objects arrayed in the motionless dolls hands and at its feet. Time and companionship makes colors brighter, air more crisp and refreshing, and gives deep-seated scars on this damaged doll's core a chance to anneal.

With a rusty creak and a squeal of metal joints scraping against their ceramic shell, the doll is able to turn to the doll next to it, smiling that same smile it gave the small doll that came before it. Slowly, a doll that sat motionlessly for weeks touches its hand to its chin and extends its arm forward.

A silent "Thank you"

The motionless doll has been left with these trinkets: A small piece of gold, two buttons and a length of ribbon, a plastic token for a free hug, a sword, two screws and a drop of oil, stories from a small doll, and the time and company of an absent doll.

#empty spaces #hollow asks #microfiction #dollposting

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linddzz · 4 months

Text

Dreamling Nonsense Masterpost

Looking for a fic? For a shit post? For a long winded au thread? Playlists? Got it here. Keeping it Dreamling for now until I really have the time to scour through my various fandom posts to collect the Big Hits.

Audacity in Human Form: E. main WIP. A post season 1 "let's see these two figure their shit out" exploration that's best described as two character studies stacked inside of a fanfic shaped coat. My main tagline for it is "it isn't unrequited, Dream just needs therapy." The fic exploring how the two weirdos I have in my head got together.

Fics/Tumblr Ficlets

"Audacity in Human Form" Series

Not exactly a structured chronological series. I have a pretty set version of my Dream and Hob in the canon!universe, so all the fics I write of them are just the same two dolls I'm bumping together in the same sandbox. They can be read in any order or separately, but there are characterization threads and things mentioned that tie them all together. I like to think that put together they can give fun context or more depth to each other :)

I'm less into Big Plots and more into just having fun bumping these dolls together and playing with how they interact!

It's a WIP and I write slow, as my job takes a lot of mental bandwidth.

(Other fics in the same series can be read even while the first isn't done! They don't really spoil much except for the fact that they do end up together. But of course they are.)

In Which Hob, a Shitty Wizard, Meets a Supposed Demon: Gen. Drabble ficlet on Tumblr as I start exploring my Shit-wizard Hob AU. More of a rough draft concept fic

Obviously: E. smut prompt fill one-shot. PWP. Dream is a needy eldritch pissbaby and also violently romantic. Hob scruffs him for some much needed gentle domming.

This Isn't the Trope: Teen. Lots of cussing. Johanna is agressively investigating an immortal man, Hob is looking forward to being dramatically rescued by his hot supernatural boyfriend. No one but Morpheus has a good time.

OTHER FICS/DRABBLES

Audacity in Human Form related posts (esp the ones that broke containment)

"Oysters have nightmares like this"

"Jokes on you, you're into that shit"

Hob: "no. Shut up. I'm talking now."

Characterization Notes aka: I'm gonna start bullying Morpheus

Other mutterings about writing or snippets are under the tags "#my fic" and "#audacity in human form"

AU Cooking:

I'm honestly better at coming up with every single detail for an AU without actually writing the fic, but I like playing in the sandbox and other people seem to have fun with them too :)

Human!AU. There are kinda two versions of this that I'm starting to meld together.

Red Flags AU post: Hob is hired to be the party ruining messy boyfriend, but cannot begin to compete with the insanity that is the Endless family and the Hot Mess Express Morpheus, who hired him. They fall in love instantly. "Why would I fix him??? He's perfect."

Red Flags AU 2: slight deviation from the OG where everything is the same, except Morpheus' messy friend Johanna accidentally introduces them and instantly regrets it. She did not anticipate Hob reacting to Morpheus' red flags like a charging bull.

Assorted Human!Morpheus facts

Shit-wizard Hob AU: where Hob is still immortal, except Death is his Endless buddy. He first meets Morpheus when trying to take up occultism at Fawney Rig (he's bad at it but is gonna stick around now. For reasons.)

Meta-ish Shitposting:

Hob meets Thessaly. Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend" starts playing ominously in the distance when she doesn't appreciate how much of a needy clingy freak Morpheus is.

Spotify Playlists:

I process Blorbo feelings with hyper specific playlists. Putting Dreamling and other fandom ones here bc I guess it's about time I share more of them

Audacity in Human Form PL: 1h33m fic specific. Set up to alternate Dream/Hob POV. Blatant "2012 fandom brain" indulgence in here.

Hot Mess Endless Express: 1hr45m the general Dream playlist. Not ship specific, all romantic songs are how I just see him in any relationship. Mostly serious, except when it isn't but especially when it isnt

The Devil of Fawney Rig: the playlist I imagine goes in Dreams head when he's stuck in a fishbowl and horny for revenge. Made with the shit-wizard Hob AU in mind

Newton Goes Kaiju All Over Everybody's Ass: 1hr it really is too bad that there was never a second Pacific Rim movie but wow isn't Dark!Geiszler a great concept? 🙃

EDDIE I MADE A PLAYLIST EDDIE: 44m Venom made a playlist for Eddie, isn't that nice?

Mountain Son: 1h30m Bagginshield Thorin feelings ahoy. Made with Mahrâna in mind.

The Bacchae: 1h. The soundtrack for the dream production of the Bacchae in my head. Meant to follow the progression of the play

The Huntress and the Maenad: 1h30m insane sapphic bitch in the woods solidarity

Mysteries: 7+hours!!!!!! The ongoing playlist for joining the cult of Dionysus and eating a billionaire in the woods

#masterpost #look i finally did it

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mxnsterbabe · 1 year

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Male Werewolf/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 5,506 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

While antiquing, you find a locket with a beautiful portrait inside. Thinking they must have sold it by mistake, you track the owner down - only to discover he's much more than you thought.

You walked into the antique shop, greeted by the familiar bell's ring. The air smelled like old books and polished wood, a comforting scent you'd come to associate with the store. It was your Aunt Lucinda's shop, filled to the brim with trinkets from the past. Each item, from the brass candlesticks to the porcelain dolls, held a story.

Aunt Lucinda was right in the thick of it, on her knees in front of boxes filled with new items. Seeing you, she stood up, brushing dust off her knees. "Morning," she said, smiling. "Would you help me with these?"

You laughed and nodded, removing your jacket. "Of course, Aunt Lucinda."

You and Aunt Lucinda were close; she'd raised you after your parents passed away. Together, you shared this love for antiques, each piece a whisper from the past. She was more than just family; she was your friend.

You started with the first box, digging through the assorted items. This was the best part – every object had a story, and discovering it was exciting. You pulled out a clock, a fan, and a tea set, carefully setting them aside.

Then, your hand closed around a small locket. It was beautiful, with intricate designs etched onto its surface. You held the locket up to the light, examining it closer. It was gold, with a delicate chain and a small clasp. The outside was etched with intricate, swirling patterns, the work of a skilled jeweller.

The real beauty was inside. A black and white photo of a woman was tucked safely in it. She was strikingly beautiful with high cheekbones, expressive eyes, and a confident smile. There was something about her that held your gaze, something timeless and captivating, but also strange.

Turning to Aunt Lucinda, you held out the locket. "Look at this, Aunt Lucinda. This feels personal. I think it was sold by mistake."

Lucinda accepted the locket, peering at it with her reading glasses. Her brows furrowed, a soft "Hmm" escaping her lips. "This came in last week," she said, handing it back to you. "It was a man who sold it. A bit awkward, he was. Country accent."

Your curiosity piqued. "Do you remember anything else about him?"

She pondered for a moment, tapping her fingers on a box. "Dark hair, blue eyes. Quite tall. Oh, and he had a bit of a strange look about him."

You rose a brow. “Strange how?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Nothing I could put my finger on, exactly.”

Odd, but there wasn’t a shortage of odd in Pinecoast. "Do you have his contact information?" you asked, hope lacing your voice. "We should ask him about this."

Lucinda nodded, rising from her chair. She had a habit of keeping the contact details of the people who sold to her, at least for a little while. She rummaged through a drawer, finally pulling out a notebook filled with names and numbers. Her finger trailed down the list until it paused. "Here he is," she said, pointing at the name Levi and a phone number next to it.

"Thanks, Aunt Lucinda," you said, holding the locket. "I'll give him a call at lunch.”

With Levi's number saved in your phone, you went back to sorting through the new items. Yet, even as you carefully examined each piece and decided on the markup, your thoughts kept drifting back to the locket.

The antique shop was filled with the usual afternoon bustle. Customers trickled in, attracted by the charm of vintage and history. Aunt Lucinda was at her element, making conversations, sharing stories about the items, and handling transactions with her usual flair.

You, on the other hand, preferred the quieter sanctuary of the backroom, filled with shelves of unsorted items. The room smelled strongly of age and mystery, and every piece in the room was a story yet to be told. It was your favourite part of the shop, a private realm where you could dig into the past without interruptions.

Even amidst the silent company of antiquities, the locket was a constant presence. An insistent whisper in your mind that lured you away from your work. Finally, giving in to your curiosity, you picked up the locket once more.

The woman inside was indeed beautiful. Her features were finely drawn, her expression serene. Her eyes, however, were odd. At first glance, they seemed to be a normal part of the black and white photograph. As you studied the portrait further, you noticed something unusual about her pupils. They were slanted, almost like... an animal's.

A shiver of excitement passed through you. The locket was becoming even more fascinating. The woman in the portrait, so elegant and yet with such peculiar eyes, was a riddle you yearned to solve.

You closed the locket gently, lost in thought. The antique shop carried on its usual pace around you, but for now, you were drawn into the world of the locket. Who was this woman, and what was her story? And, most importantly, what would Levi have to say about it? You decided then and there - you would call him as soon as lunch hour hit.

Time passed at a crawl, but eventually you decided to call Levi. The first attempt went unanswered, his voice message greeting was curt and slightly awkward. You left a brief message and decided to try again later.

The second call was picked up after a few rings. "Hello?" A gruff voice, tinged with a thick country English accent, filled the line.

"Hello, is this Levi?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Yeah, this is Levi. Who's this?" His tone was a bit wary, but you caught a note of curiosity there as well.

You gave him your name, smiling even though he couldn’t see it. “I work at the antique shop where you sold some things last week," you explained, keeping your voice steady.

There was a pause, then he said, "Oh, right. How can I help you, then?"

His use of your name sent an unexpected flutter through your stomach. You found his awkwardness charming and somewhat endearing. You took a deep breath and plunged into the reason for your call.

"We found a locket among the items you sold. It has a picture inside," you explained. "It felt... personal. We thought it might have been included by mistake."

Another pause. Then, a sharp intake of breath. "A locket?" he sounded horrified. "Bloody hell, I've been looking everywhere for that. It wasn't meant to go to the shop."

You felt a rush of relief. Your hunch had been right. "I thought so," you said, your tone gentle. "I’m glad I checked."

"Yeah, thanks," he said, sounding genuinely relieved. "I'll swing by tomorrow to collect it."

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. "Actually, I could drop it off after work," you offered. "If you're not too far, that is."

His surprise was evident. "If you’re sure. I live just outside town, by the woods. Are you sure it wouldn't be a bother?"

"No, not at all," you assured him. "I'll text you for the address later."

"Alright, then. Thank you, Grace," Levi said, sounding deeply grateful.

After hanging up, you found your heart beating faster. The call had gone well. Not only had you connected with the locket's owner, but you also had an opportunity to meet him. The mystery of the locket was one step closer to being solved, and you couldn't help the thrill of anticipation that rushed through you.

***

As the day came to a close, Aunt Lucinda locked the door to the shop, her face aglow with the satisfaction of another day well spent among her beloved antiques. Turning to you, her expression turned serious.

"Promise me you'll be safe, Grace," she said, her voice laced with worry. "It's getting dark and you're heading towards the woods."

You nodded, understanding her concern. "Don't worry, Aunt Lucinda. I'm just dropping off the locket. I'll call you when I get back, alright?"

Lucinda seemed somewhat relieved by your reassurances. "Alright, then. Remember, safety first."

You both walked to your respective cars parked by the shop. As Lucinda drove away, you pulled out your phone to check the address Levi had texted you. It wasn't too far - a house located on the outskirts of town, close to the woods.

As you started your car and began driving, a sense of excitement fluttered in your stomach. This wasn't just about returning a locket anymore. It was about the mystery behind it, the intriguing woman in the portrait, and, now, meeting the man who had unintentionally set you off on this journey - Levi.

The sun was setting as you drove towards the address, casting long shadows across the quiet town. The anticipation of the meeting ahead tingled at the back of your mind. Who was Levi, really? How did the locket come into his possession? What was the story behind the peculiar eyes of the woman in the portrait?

Lost in thought, you didn't realise how quickly time passed until you saw the woods approaching in the distance.

As you followed the winding road towards Levi's address, you noticed how the hustle of the town gradually faded into a serene quiet, replaced by the lush green canopy of the woods. After a few more turns, you arrived at the edge of the road where a quaint cabin-like cottage was nestled.

It was a picturesque sight. The house was an inviting mix of warm wood and weathered stone, framed by tall trees and a carpet of greenery. Wildflowers in a myriad of colours dotted the front yard, blending with climbing vines that adorned the walls and window sills of the cottage. The setting sun cast a soft golden glow over the scene, making the cottage look like a picture straight out of a fairytale.

Feeling an undeniable charm emanating from the place, you got out of your car, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of the woods. The locket, carefully wrapped and tucked into your bag, seemed to thrum with an unspoken story.

Climbing from the car and approaching the door, you pressed the doorbell. The sound echoed slightly inside, followed by a bit of scuffle. A bark followed, high-pitched and excited. Then, the door swung open just as a small corgi rushed past, tail wagging furiously as it sniffed at your feet in enthusiastic greeting.

Standing in the doorway was Levi. He looked just as Aunt Lucinda had described - tall, dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a lanky yet muscular build. There was a rugged handsomeness about him that you hadn't quite expected.

"Hey," he said, his country accent stronger in person. He flashed an awkward, slightly nervous smile. His eyes, shadows by that dark, messy hair, seemed to hold a hint of surprise, probably at the sight of the corgi greeting a stranger with such affection.

"Sorry about Annalise," Levi said, scratching the back of his head. "She's not usually this excitable around strangers. She must like you."

Annalise, the corgi, wagged her tail in agreement, her tongue lolling out happily. You couldn't help but grin at her, reaching down to pet her fluffy head.

Levi's presence was indeed intimidating, his tall frame looming over you. Yet, you noticed how he seemed to be trying to make himself smaller, almost as if he was aware of the effect he had. This made you feel slightly better, easing the unusual shyness that had taken hold of you.

"I have your locket," you said, regretfully tearing your hand away from Annalise to pull out the small package from your bag.

His eyes lit up with relief as he took the locket, cradling it gently in his hands as if it was the most precious thing in the world. "Thanks. I can't tell you how much this means to me."

You smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction. "It's no problem, Levi. I'm glad I could help."

Just as you were about to turn and leave, Annalise decided she wasn't ready to say goodbye. She started barking at your feet, running circles around you.

Levi chuckled, his laugh a low, rich sound. "Looks like Annalise won't let you leave just yet. Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?"

The invitation was unexpected. Yet, the warmth of the cottage and the prospect of spending more time with Levi (and Annalise) felt inviting.

"That sounds lovely," you agreed, a small thrill of excitement coursing through you.

Stepping into Levi's cottage, you were instantly struck by the warm, inviting atmosphere. The place was filled with charming antiques, each holding their own piece of history. Levi, despite his obvious awkwardness, exuded a genuine kindness that made you feel at ease.

He led you to a small kitchen at the front of the house, his strides long yet unhurried. The kitchen was a pleasant mix of modern appliances and vintage decor. Antique spice racks lined the walls, holding an assortment of colourful jars. A vintage kettle whistled gently on the stove, next to a set of ceramic mugs that looked like they were from the Victorian era. A charmingly old wooden clock ticked away peacefully on the wall.

Unable to resist, you admired the antique items openly. "These are lovely," you murmured, reaching out to gently touch the ceramic mugs. "They're definitely Victorian, perhaps even from the aesthetic movement."

Levi looked surprised at your knowledge. "You know your stuff," he said, sounding impressed.

You shrugged modestly, a shy smile playing on your lips. "I guess working at an antique shop has its perks."

Throughout the exchange, Annalise followed closely at your heels, her tail wagging non-stop. It wasn't until you sat down at the small kitchen table that she seemed to calm down. Bending down, you ran your fingers through her fur, her eyes closing in contentment at the attention.

While Levi attended to the coffee, your eyes wandered around the kitchen, coming to rest on a collection of family photographs hung on the wall above the table. The black and white images depicted moments from a time gone by, telling a story that spanned generations.

The first photograph that caught your eye was one of a man and a woman. The woman was immediately recognisable – the same striking features from the locket, but she was years younger.Oddly, her eyes were normal in this photo. She was standing close to a man, presumably her husband, both happy and in love.

The second photograph was a group picture featuring a much younger Levi, flanked by his parents and grandparents. Even as a child, his striking blue eyes stood out. The older woman, his grandmother, shared the same unique eyes.

A third photograph showed a larger group - Levi along with multiple brothers and sisters. You studied each face, noting how most of them had normal eyes, except for Levi, his grandmother, and one of his sisters. You felt a strange chill run up your spine as you realised their eyes resembled those of the woman in the locket.

Your gaze lingered on the photographs, a whirlwind of thoughts running through your head. What was the significance of those distinctive eyes? And why did only a few family members have them?

Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed when Levi placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of you. "Hope you like it," he said, his voice pulling you back to the present.

"I'm sure I will," you replied, turning your attention back to him. Yet, you knew that the mystery behind those unique eyes and the intriguing family photographs was far from being solved.

As you both settled at the kitchen table with your mugs of coffee, the conversation began to flow more naturally. Levi asked about your work at the antique shop, his questions revealing a genuine interest.

"I can't apologise enough for the hassle," he said, running a hand through his dark hair. "The locket wasn't meant to be in that box I sold to the shop."

"It's no hassle at all, Levi," you assured him, your gaze wandering back to the photographs above the table. "I was happy to come out here. Plus, I got to meet Annalise," you added with a smile, looking down at the corgi snoozing contently at your feet.

His lips quirked up into a shy smile, his blue eyes softening. "I'm glad you like her. She certainly likes you."

Changing the subject, you started to talk about his home. "Your house is beautiful. I love all the antiques you've collected; but isn't it difficult living this far out of town?" you asked, recalling the lack of a car outside.

"I manage," he replied with a shrug. "I get most things delivered, and I enjoy the quiet of the woods. And I..." He paused, seeming to consider his words. "I don't drive."

That surprised you. "Really? That's unusual."

Levi nodded, a bit of discomfort crossing his face. "I guess you could say I'm a bit of a shut-in. I prefer it this way." He quickly added, "it's not something I like to discuss."

Your curiosity was piqued, but you respected his privacy. Instead, you took another sip of your coffee, savouring the rich flavour. Meanwhile, a myriad of questions swirled around in your head – about the locket, Levi's family, his reclusive lifestyle, and those unique, piercing blue eyes.

After you finished your coffee, you checked the time and realised how late it had gotten. "I should probably head back, it's getting late," you said, standing up from the table.

As you declared your intention to leave, a soft lull fell over the room. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, rather a peaceful one, filled with the quiet ticking of the antique clock and the soft whistling of the wind outside.

"Of course," Levi nodded, his voice understanding, as he moved to lead you to the door.

Annalise, roused herself from her nap, tail wagging as she followed the pair of you.

Reaching the door, you could feel Levi's eyes on you, as if he was grappling with something. The slight furrow of his brows and the way his lips pressed together in thought hinted at an internal debate. Not wanting to rush him, you simply waited, your fingers brushing against the worn texture of the door.

"Grace?" he finally said, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. "I... um, I was wondering... would you like to come by again? Maybe for another cup of coffee?" His words hung in the air, filled with hope and a little bit of uncertainty.

You felt a warm smile spread across your face at his words. Teasingly, you said, "That’s unexpected, especially from a self-proclaimed shut in." Your heart fluttered at the sight of a faint blush creeping up his neck, his blue eyes dropping to the floor in slight embarrassment.

"Well," he started, lifting his gaze back to meet yours, the blush still evident on his cheeks, "I am usually a shut-in; but, I think... I'd like to get to know you better, Grace."

The honesty in his words brought a sense of warmth to your heart. His confession, the awkwardness of it all, felt so genuine, so raw that it was endearing. His company had been a source of comfort to you tonight, in ways you hadn't anticipated.

"I'd like that too, Levi," you found yourself saying, the words coming out much easier than you thought they would. His face brightened up at your acceptance, a beautiful smile that reached his eyes, making them twinkle in the dimly lit room.

With a contented sigh, you stepped out into the cool night air, a sense of tranquillity washing over you. As you turned to wave him a final goodbye, you realised how fondly you were already thinking of Levi, this enigmatic man with a locket and a secret.

The drive back home was filled with thoughts of him and his charming little cottage, the locket, and those fascinating blue eyes. You found yourself already anticipating your next visit, wondering what other secrets and stories were waiting to unfold.

***

Over the next month, life took on a rhythm. The antique shop kept you busy, and the free time you had was mostly spent with Levi. Aunt Lucinda, ever the matchmaker, teased you constantly about your budding relationship, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Your time with Levi was usually spent at his cottage by the woods. He would show you his antique collection, each piece with a story to tell. Evenings were reserved for 'bad horror movie nights' - just the two of you curled up on his old, comfortable couch with a pile of snacks, laughing at the ridiculous plot lines and cheesy effects.

But amidst all the comfort and laughter, something was gnawing at the back of your mind - the picture in the locket and Levi's eyes. Every now and then, you'd find yourself looking at him, studying his face, trying to catch a glimpse of those odd, slanted pupils that you'd seen in the photograph.

One evening, you found yourself back on Levi's couch, beer in hand and a rather terrible werewolf movie playing on the screen.

As the moonlight filtered through the window, it hit Levi's face at an angle. For a brief second, you saw his pupils shift, resembling the ones in the picture. It was brief, but it was there.

Surprised, you turned to him. "Levi," you started, your voice cautious, "your eyes... they just..."

He seemed to understand what you were about to say, because he turned his face away from you, hiding his eyes in the shadow. The action felt heavy, like there was more to it than just a simple reflex.

The room went silent except for the terrible movie continuing to play in the background. You felt a flurry of emotions - surprise, concern, but above all, a growing curiosity. This man, who you had grown so fond of, had a secret. And you found yourself wanting to know what it was.

You watched Levi, the way his broad shoulders stiffened and his posture closed off. His face was turned away from you, shadowed and unreadable, but the tension in the air was palpable.

You could have let it drop. It would have been easy to return your attention to the movie, to ignore the sudden shift in the room. But looking at him now, the vulnerability he was showing, the shame he was trying so hard to hide, you found you couldn't ignore it.

"Levi," you began gently, turning on the couch to face him. You laid a reassuring hand on his arm, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. "Your great-grandmother had the same eyes in the locket," you continued softly, “and some of your family in the pictures too."

You felt him stiffen slightly at your words. The movie played on, but your focus was on Levi, on coaxing him out of his shell. This wasn't about idle curiosity anymore; you could see that he was genuinely worried, that this secret was something that he held close, something he feared sharing.

"It's okay, Levi," you murmured, your hand moving to gently squeeze his arm. "You don't have to tell me anything if you're not ready. I just want you to know that... whatever it is, it doesn't change how I feel about you."

At your words, you felt him relax a bit, his posture losing some of its rigidity. He still didn't meet your eyes, but he turned towards you a bit, a silent acknowledgement of your words.

You waited, giving him the space to process your words, to decide what he wanted to do. There was no pressure here, no judgement, only acceptance and understanding. You hoped Levi could see that, and that, whatever his secret was, he knew he didn't have to bear it alone.

After a pause that felt both too short and too long, Levi turned back to face you. As he did, you found yourself looking into his eyes again. They were different now. His blue eyes, always so captivating, were even brighter now, almost glowing in the dim light of the room. The pupils, the ones that you had only caught glimpses of before, were clear and distinct now - oddly shaped, almost like that of an animal.

Despite the initial surprise, you found yourself drawn to them. There was something wild and beautiful about them, something incredibly captivating. "They're beautiful, Levi," you found yourself saying, your voice almost a whisper.

At your words, he gave a soft, incredulous laugh, his gaze dropping to his hands. "You don't have to say that, you know," he mumbled, clearly not believing you.

“I mean it,” you replied, reaching out to brush a gentle hand across his cheek. “I meant it when I said you don’t have to tell me anything, too.”

“You deserve to know.” Taking a deep breath, as if steeling himself, Levi began to explain. "I'm not... entirely human," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Neither is any of my family. It all started with my great-grandmother. She was bitten by a werewolf."

His words hung in the air between you two. The idea, the reality of it, felt both strange and incredible at the same time. You had seen werewolves on the big screen, read about them in books, but the concept of them being real, of Levi being one, was something you had never imagined. Yet somehow… you believed him.

"It’s not like the movies," he continued, his gaze back on you, eyes glowing intensely. "It wasn't a curse. It became a part of her, a part of us. It runs in the family, you see. Some of us, like me, we have...traits we struggle to hide even in human form."

The confession hung in the air, his words wrapping around you like a cocoon, leaving the two of you in this intimate bubble of shared secrets and raw honesty. Despite the strange revelations, you found yourself comforted by his words, by his trust in sharing such a secret with you.

Your hand found its way back to his arm, squeezing gently in reassurance. "Levi," you said softly, "It's okay. I understand. And it really doesn't change how I feel about you."

Levi seemed to crumble at your words, his gaze dropping to where your hand rested on his arm. The glow in his eyes seemed to flicker like a dying flame, disbelief clear on his face.

Levi looked down at your hand resting on his arm. "Grace, it's more than just the eyes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He swallowed, a look of determination crossing his face. "Every month, I transform. It's painful, terrifying. My body shifts, bones snap, I’m not me anymore."

His words hung in the air, the room growing quiet except for the soft hum of the movie playing in the background.

"And it's not just the transformations. It's every day. Trying to keep my eyes normal in public. Trying to hide who I am."

He looked away, his hands clenching into fists. "It's why I moved out here. Away from everyone. It's easier to hide. Easier than seeing the stares, the questions."

Levi's words trailed off, his eyes distant. "I've lost so many friends...relationships...all because I couldn't hide who I am. I didn't want to put anyone else through that."

It was a self-sabotage, an attempt to push you away. But you didn't budge.

Before he could continue, you leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. It was a simple, comforting kiss. A way to tell him without words that you weren't scared. That you were here, that you understood. And that his secret, his true self, didn't change how you felt about him.

You pulled back, a soft smile playing on your lips. Levi sat there, still as a statue, his eyes wide with surprise. His bright blue irises, now faintly glowing with their animalistic slant, stared back at you. It was as if he was struggling to comprehend what just happened, unable to believe that you hadn't fled.

The silence in the room was palpable, the only sound being the muted movie playing in the background, creating an intimate bubble around you both. And then, after what felt like an eternity, Levi's eyes softened. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned in and met your lips again.

This kiss was different. It started off gentle, mirroring the softness of your initial touch. His lips moved against yours, timid at first but growing bolder with every second. It was sweet and chaste, a mere taste of the affection you'd come to share.

His kiss grew desperate, his hands reaching up to gently cradle your face. He kissed you with an intensity that left you breathless, a raw hunger laced with a hint of vulnerability. His fingers tangled into your hair, holding you closer, as if afraid you'd slip away if he let you go.

It hit you then. The desperation, the raw need, it was a reflection of his isolation, his loneliness. He had been deprived of this – of closeness, of acceptance, of love – for so long. This realisation made your heart ache for him, made your resolve to stick by him even stronger.

As you returned his kiss with equal fervour, you hoped that he could feel it too, feel your promise. That you were here, and you were here to stay.

Pulling back, Levi looked at you, his eyes wide and questioning. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a hope mixed with fear. He was waiting for something, seeking some form of assurance.

You realised he needed to hear it, to know that you weren't just going along with this, that you genuinely wanted this. So you took his face in your hands, locking eyes with him, and poured out your heart.

"I want you to know something, Levi," you began, your voice steady and clear. "I'm not here because I feel sorry for you. I'm not here because I think you need saving. I'm here because...because I care for you."

There it was, plain and simple. You watched as Levi's expression shifted, a mix of surprise and relief flooding his features.

"I like you for you," you continued, your hands moving to gently cup his jaw. "You're kind, you're intelligent, and you're incredibly sweet. Yes, you're a werewolf, and it's a big part of who you are - but it's not all you are."

You paused, letting your words sink in, watching as Levi's eyes flickered with an array of emotions.

"I'm curious, yes," you admitted, your fingers tracing the lines of his face. "That's because I want to know you, all of you. I want you to feel comfortable sharing your life with me, whenever you're ready."

His eyes searched yours for a long moment, perhaps seeking any sign of deceit. But all he would find was honesty, warmth, and an affection that had been blossoming since that first meeting at his front door.

"I want this, Levi," you said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I want you. We can take this at your pace, alright?"

His eyes held yours for a moment longer before something seemed to shift within him. His shoulders relaxed, and a soft sigh of relief escaped his lips. "You know," he murmured, his fingers lightly brushing against your cheek. "I've wanted this since that first cup of coffee we had together."

His words hung in the air, and you felt a surge of warmth rush through you. This wasn't one-sided, he felt this too. His confession added another layer of intimacy to this moment, a shared understanding, a shared want.

"I've spent so long hiding..." he trailed off, his gaze dropping to your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "It feels good not to. With you."

His words were like a balm, soothing any lingering doubts you may have had. You saw a spark in his eyes then, a glimpse of the man he was beneath the secret he had been forced to carry alone. There was a newfound confidence in his gaze, a certainty that hadn't been there before.

Before you could respond, he was leaning in, capturing your lips with his once again. This kiss was different, though. It was a promise, a claim. It was Levi, without the fears, without the reservations. It was pure, unadulterated emotion, and you found yourself lost in the sweetness of the moment.

The world outside ceased to exist as you melted into each other, the taste of his kiss the only thing that mattered. The whispers of doubts and the uncertainty of the future faded away. For now, it was just you and Levi, wrapped up in each other, lost in the beauty of this shared intimacy.

#exophilia #exophilia fiction #monster x reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #tag: mxf #tag: male monster #tag: female reader #tag: sfw #tag: werewolf

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mc-lukanette · 2 years

Text

Fit Like a Lover

Marinette emerged from behind the partition and twirled for effect, eagerly showing off her costume. "So? Do you like it?"

Luka was aware that he was a biased party, and he was fairly sure that Marinette knew that too. He could hear the trust in her voice, however; the knowledge that he'd be honest and still give her constructive criticism if it happened to come to him.

Thus, he went to walk a full circle around her, examining every inch of her outfit. If there was even a single rip, he was going to catch it.

"It looks incredible, Marinette. I can tell you made it yourself and put your whole heart into it," he said, noting the high quality and perfect fit. However, he frowned, squinting in deep thought. "But... what are you exactly?"

"Oh!" Marinette perked up, Luka thankful that the question hadn't offended her. "That's the best part!" She outstretched her arms, legs spread in dramatic fashion. "I'm not anything that existed before today! I thought for a while that I could do a witch but better, but then I thought—why limit myself to something like that, you know?"

He nodded, eyes fond as he admired her enthusiasm. Seeing her in her element without the usual stress that loomed over her was incredible for him, and he could only imagine how it must have felt for her.

"So—!" Marinette continued proudly, hands on her hips. "—I created my own fairytale, and I'm the creature from it! I... oh, wait."

She fumbled around, searching the various pockets and packs she had on her. With a soft, "ahah!" she pulled out a tiny booklet, opening it to show him.

It was an assortment of sketches, though they became more detailed - more certain of themselves - as the pages went on, finally extending to the written portion complete with pictures.

"It's about a creature who watches over a nearby village, and she gives them treats or tricks depending on whether they've been good or bad; sort of like a Halloween Santa Claus? I made some sweets to test out in school the other day too since it was the closest I could get to fitting with the theme. Some are tricks, some are treats." She grinned mischievously. "I may or may not have also tricked Adrien into giving one to Chloe so she'd eat it. It was a treat, but when she heard it was from me, she spent the whole day wondering if I poisoned her, so you could say it's a trick in its own way."

Gosh, he loved her so much.

He chuckled. "You're a genius, Marinette."

She wiggled her hips shyly at the praise, but he could tell that she was secretly glowing with pride. It was just like her to go all out with a costume, right down to making her own tricks and treats.

"What about you, Luka?" she asked as she put the tiny notebook away. She bounced excitedly in anticipation of his answer.

There was something else in her tone that told him that there was more than just idle curiosity, but he answered anyway, "My mom always uses Halloween to go all out. She doesn't need an excuse, of course, but she loves trying to outrank everyone else. Jule and I always help out."

"Oh wow!" Marinette giggled, clearly having some sort of mental image in her head. Luka imagined that even her imagination couldn't compete with the real deal. "That's okay then!"

"...Hm?" Luka blinked, confused at the statement. What was okay? Had he missed something? Perhaps Marinette was talking to herself? Or—"Wait, were you going to ask me to help you with anything?"

"Ah—" She made a face like she hadn't intended for him to figure that much out. "N-no, no! It's really alright! I can cut it out of the story, or maybe have a doll instead—"

"Marinette," he said steadily, still puzzled, "what do you mean?"

She blushed, hands fidgeting with each other at waist level. "Well... in the story, the creature is really lonely, so she makes herself a partner. I thought that it might be neat to have me be the creature and then get—" She hesitated. "—um, someone to play the other role."

"And..." Luka processed that, touched by the gesture. "You want me to do that?"

"I wanted to ask you first, so—" She put her hands on her face in embarrassment, peeking out at him from between her fingers.

Luka knew full well that it was more than that. If it was just that she'd asked him first and planned to get someone else, she would've made no other suggestion of cutting the partner out of the story entirely or getting a doll instead.

She'd been thinking of him specifically. There was no other explanation.

"I'd love to," he said immediately. It was impulsive, but he didn't take it back either.

In a delayed reaction, Marinette lowered her hands to look at him in surprise. "W-what? But—your mom—"

"Rose can help. They don't need me here, not really. I'd be happy to be your..." He swallowed. "myth partner, Marinette."

In truth, he didn't actually know if they needed him or not, but he'd eagerly risk a walk on the plank for this.

Marinette bit her bottom lip in response, more questions clearly lingering in her mind even as she shifted on her feet in excitement. Eventually though, the excitement won over and she squealed, jumping forward to hold his hands.

"Great! Thank you so much!"

"No, thank you," he replied.

Both of them broke into happy giggles at the idea of dressing up together. They could hardly wait.

——

It fit him. Well, Luka naturally expected the costume to fit him, because Marinette could get anxious at times but she was nothing if not a stickler for details. It wouldn't have made sense for her to ask him - and only him, he reminded himself with a faint blush - unless she knew that the costume would be comfortable for his build, especially since it was now the day of the party.

But it went further than that. It didn't just fit him, it fit him perfectly. He bent his legs and arms to test the material, but it really felt as though it was truly made with every line or curve of his body in mind. In retrospect, he should've been suspicious when Marinette took his full measurements back when she was making their Kitty Section costumes (none of which required full measurements), but still.

There was something incredibly intimate about knowing that Marinette knew his body shape and size down to centimeters, not helped by the fact that the costume had him decked out in his own colors.

"Luka!" Marinette called from the other side of the divider in her room. "How is it? I tried to make it with the softest, most comfortable fabric I could!"

Realizing that he'd been standing there stupidly just admiring her work, Luka's sense kicked back and he stepped out, arms spread to really show off his outfit. "It's perfect. I couldn't have asked for anything better."

Her face lit up upon taking him in, a squeal escaping her that she muffled with both hands. She was practically jumping in place and Luka had no place he'd rather be than right there with her.

If his mom or Juleka felt betrayed, they would have to deal with it.

"You look amazing!" Marinette exclaimed, Luka chuckling a bit at how it sounded like her complimenting her own work which—good, she deserved it. She even came closer to him, walking circles around him and occasionally touching him to test how the fabric hugged him. Clearly, she had no idea what effect she had on him, either ignoring or not hearing the surprised noise he made when she casually grabbed his side as a test.

"...Oh!" she gasped, realizing something. "There's still one piece missing! Hold on!"

Luka watched curiously - part of him thankful for the moment to breathe - as she hurried across the room, searching for something. She ended up finding it underneath her chaise lounge, protected in a small box, and Luka's lips parted in surprise when she brought it over to him.

A lyre, or at least a fake one. He took it in his hands, turning it every which way to get as close of a look as possible. The "musical partner" she'd spoken of in her story had not just any instrument, but a stringed instrument. He may not have ever played a lyre specifically, but everyone knew that stringed instruments were his forte.

Marinette placed her hands on the lyre as well, a few of her fingers overlapping his. Ducking her head shyly, she peeked up at him and explained, "T-the partner she makes in the story; he plays her music while she designs. They inspire each other."

Luka let out the breath he'd been holding ever since he'd seen the lyre in the first place. He could tell a rhythm when he heard one; he knew when all the notes came together to form a distinct melody, and this was one of those cases.

She asked him and only him to be her partner in this. She kept his measurements and thus the costume - that's also in his colors - fit him perfectly. The partner in the myth had a string instrument, and he plays music whilst she designs just like they did while working on Kitty Section costumes.

She designed the myth after both of them. Marinette could've chosen anyone to be a partner to the lonely creature and she made it him.

"Did—" He stopped to breathe again, his heart feeling so full that he suspected it was clogging something. "Did you really think I wouldn't say 'yes' to dressing up with you?"

"H-huh?" A beautiful blush spread across her face.

"There's no way I wouldn't," he insisted, moving the instrument away, Marinette's hands letting go of it while he grabbed one of said hands in reassurance. If she was a little overwhelmed, he was okay with that; she deserved to know that he was certain about this.

Marinette, meanwhile, was floundering for a response. "W-well, I know I made the costume before you even agreed, and I really did want you to wear it. The partner is really important for the story too, but..." She faltered, her fingers shifting nervously in his hand. "No, I really wasn't sure you'd want to?"

He matched her frown with his own. "Why not? It's such an original idea, Marinette, and I definitely don't miss being part of the Liberty for this."

She stared at the floor, her free hand closed tight and held to her chest. She chewed at her bottom lip whilst trying to form words, then explained carefully, "B-because it's a romance, so I thought it'd make you uncomfortable to dress up as much partner. If anyone asks, and I have to explain the myth, then they might think things, and..."

Luka shook his head. "I would never be uncomfortable around you; definitely not over that."

"Because you don't care what people think...?"

That was true, he supposed, but not the real reason. He just wasn't sure how much of that reason he could say. Keeping that in mind, he opted for, "Because the idea of people thinking I'm together with you doesn't bother me."

"...O-oh," she utters, the blush spreading further across her face. She seemed deep in thought and yet still so close to him.

Though, now that he'd answered her concerns, he had his own question. "What about you, Marinette?"

"Me?"

He nodded. "You were worried about me being uncomfortable, but why not you?"

Her lips pressed together, the soft pink that's always been so alluring for him disappearing briefly as she hesitated. "Well, I...I was thinking the same thing?"

"Really?" It's a stupid question, because it was virtually the only answer: she wasn't worried about the discomfort because she wasn't uncomfortable. Still, knowing that they were on a similar wavelength made him happy.

She nodded. "I'm so comfortable around you Luka. I thought... that it'd be okay if it was you. If people t-thought anything about us, then—" She shifted on her feet, looking at anything but him. "—I'd be honored, actually?"

Luka stared silently at her, heart pounding. Almost unconsciously, he went from holding her hand to intertwining their fingers, a gesture that Marinette easily reciprocated. He reciprocated easily, "I'd be honored too."

"You..." She finally looked up at him, blinking rapidly in shock. "What?"

"For anyone to think that we're together. I like the sound of that." He smiled warmly, even as she continued staring like she couldn't believe him. "I mean it, Marinette. You're unbelievably talented and pretty."

"U-unbeli—guh—" She recoiled from him and shook her head insistently. "Unbelievably talented?! Look who's talking!" She gestured (flailed her arms, really) at him. "You're talented too, and really handsome!"

Luka laughed in delight, blushing himself. "Thank you." She'd started pacing about with her warm cheeks covered by her hands, so he waited for her to slow down to add fondly, "I'm just glad you picked me, even if it's only playing a part for a day."

Immediately, she froze, hands lowering as she looked at him. It took a moment for Luka to realize that it could've been the wrong thing to say after he'd come on so strongly already.

"Ah... Marinette—"

"You don't have to," she said softly.

He paused, mostly out of confusion, and wondered where she got the idea that he wouldn't want this. Hands raised in defense, he replied, "No, I want to! That's not what I—"

"You can play longer," she whispered, staring at the floor like it was incredibly interesting all of a sudden. "Like a week, or a month..." She flicked her gaze up at him, his gaping mouth apparently not deterring her from continuing, "m-maybe forever, if you really want? It doesn't have to be play either..."

Thus, the melody reached its intended target. She had feelings for him—no, it was mutual. All the time they'd spent staring at each other, spending time together, and now dressing up as a pair had reached its logical conclusion.

Luka grinned like the love-struck fool that he was. He couldn't care less how silly he must've looked, standing there and practically shaking. The only reason he didn't jump at Marinette and hug her immediately was because he feared ruining their costumes somehow.

So instead, he approached, careful of her make-up as he took her face in his hands. His entire face was giving him away, and he could tell from the way Marinette's eyes sparkled.

"Yes," he said. "Forever sounds great."

"F-forever..." She was practically vibrating, even grabbing his wrists excitedly. "Y-yeah! I'll love you forever!"

Heat quickly washed over her face when she realized what she said, but she didn't take it back. Luka found it incredibly adorable that they'd already confessed and yet she was getting embarrassed blurting out "I love you"s at him.

Without another word, as if she thought she might say something else blunt and very much welcome by him, she silently reached further up, grabbing his hands from her face so she could slip her fingers in between his own. Luka observed the way she eyed him, looking from the floor, to his eyes, and then down from there where her gaze proceeded to linger.

It took him a moment to realize what she was staring at, helped by the way she stepped closer to lessen the gap between them. She swallowed, staring in a mixture of hesitance and longing, all while Luka tried to keep his heart under control. She wanted to kiss him.

However, just as she leaned up, the alarm went off on Marinette's phone, both checking to see that it was a warning telling them to head off to the party. Luka had genuinely forgotten all about it and, judging from Marinette's expression, she had as well. She seemed almost frustrated, though he couldn't tell if it was only the alarm or if she blamed her shyness for being unable to kiss him in time.

"I don't think there was a kiss at the end of your fairytale," he said lightly. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't have made the two characters kiss if the people they were based on weren't dating yet. He was giving her an out as well, not wanting her to feel pressured. There was time for all that later, surely.

That's when Marinette turned to him, brows furrowed like she was upset with him. Before Luka could ask what was wrong, Marinette's hand hit the alarm to shut it off. In an equally swift motion, she moved towards him again, arms wrapped around his neck as she got up on her tiptoes.

He went to call her name, but her nose brushed his and he was suddenly out of breath. Her gaze was firm even while her voice shook in that beautiful contrast of shy yet bold that he loved so much.

"I'll put it in as a footnote," she whispered.

Nothing more was said as she kissed him, and he'd already forgotten about attending the party at all by the time he kissed back.

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette #event: Halloween

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sparrowhero · 2 years

Text

Assorted Hawks Boyfriend Headcanons

He wants to be a good boyfriend, for real. He tries his best, but the HPSC is a real pain in his ass and his own workaholic nature can get in the way with the man who’s far too fast for his own good. Sometimes he puts a little bit too much on his plate, and takes way too much on himself, so it’s ironic that patience is the most necessary virtue.

Doesn’t date around very much. The HPSC is VERY strict about his image as ‘everyone’s Hawks’ and they bitch him out about you a lot as things get more serious. If you’re a pro, even moreso, but if you’re some no-name civilian, they’re a bit more lenient. He’s good about letting it fall off his back for the most part.

He’ll be late for dates, but never on purpose– unless it’s to surprise you with something! He thinks your glee is just as funny as you being shocked, so watch out. He also thinks it’s cute when you’re (just a little) mad.

Likes to kiss your nose when you’re mad. If you’re shorter than him, he bows his head and looks at you so sweetly, brows furrowed together in faux innocence and asks forgiveness If you’re taller than him, he flashes a big smile up at you and likes to take your face in his hands and squish your cheeks together while he pleads his case that you were just too cute not to tease a little bit.

READMORE FOR LENGTH

He’s not insecure about his height. If anything, he’s very much this tweet:

(text description: a twitter tweet from Arson Welles @ PissJugTycoon that says "I dated a 5'8 guy who'd taunt every jacked, 6'3 bro he met until they'd pull up their fist to beat him up, whereupon my ex would go "heyheyheyyy c'maahn I'm a little guy, I'm just a little guyy, noo, it's also my birthday, I'm a little birthday boyy" & it somehow always worked)

Doesn’t mind if you don’t like heights, can’t fly, or have other reasons you cannot join him in the air either by his side or in his arms. While he prefers to fly around, he’s also fine to walk around “the normal way” or meet up in a secluded place to spend time together.

He’s got expensive taste for himself and dresses himself well (especially because a lot of what he wears has to be tailored with his wings.) But he’d be over the moon with delight for anything homemade, no matter the skill set. He’s just as much the type to wear it immediately or keep it at home just to stare and smile wistfully at when he’s missing you. Kind of a hoarder of sentimental things.

Flops on you like a rag doll whenever possible, completely bonelessly. He likes to cuddle close in between your neck and shoulders. His wings flap a little bit when he’s happy and content.

He can only really sleep on his stomach comfortably if he’s not sleeping sitting up, so if you’re taking a nap together, good luck getting out from under his wings. He spreads those things fully when he’s relaxing and they’re heavier than they look. He likes it when you use him as a lap pillow too.

Will absolutely not tell you his real name for an absurdly long time. Trust doesn’t come easy to him for things like that, and he justifies it as being for both of your safety. Enjoys you making guesses as to what his name COULD be and if you guys are going out somewhere incognito (or as incognito as you can be given he’s a celebrity), he likes to use the various fake names you’ve guessed.

Whenever you get close, his eyes crinkle juuuust a little bit in a bittersweet mix of emotions. He’ll tell you…eventually.

#bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #mha x reader #bnha x reader #gender neutral reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader

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youngestdaughtersyndrome · 12 days

Note

Is there any chance you can give us a tag directory?

I can certainly try!!! Its not a complete directory because i have over a hundred and even i lose track of all of them. Anyways im putting the list under the cut ... i tried to organize it to the best of my ability so GENERAL is for housekeeping, TANGIBLE CONCEPTS are for physical things, FLEXIBLE CONCEPTS are things that hover between physical and conceptual, INTANGIBLE CONCEPTS are things that fully conceptual, and SPECIFIC MEDIA is for specific bands/shows/etc. I highly recommend if youre on mobile you DO NOT hit keep reading because its absurdly long and will take over ur dash. Anyways have fun knock urself out

GENERAL:

hollyws: original posts..... went by holly for a while on here, first url was honeyhollows, hollows has similar spelling to holly, you get the gist

a: a is for assorted, so anything that doesnt have an actual organizational tag goes in there-- memes, textposts, current events, etc

srb: self reblog, but not for every one of my og posts that i rb, just the ones that surpass a thousand notes and therefore get deleted. Its my greatest hits pretty much

for later: links, resources, things i want to return to, you get the gist

tag game: those like questionnaire-type games one gets tagged in

asks: asks that ive answered

vdo: in-app videos

the world flows past on both sides distant and mute: audio tag. From nazim hikmet's poem "things i didnt know i loved"

mb: moodboards

our hands empty except for our hands: webweaving and parallel posting. From ocean vuong's "on earth we're briefly gorgeous"

fave: favorites, obvs

blog thesis: the tag equivalent of me calling something real as hell, containing things that qualify as my belief system

my face: selfie tag, but most (all of them actually) get deleted approx 24 hours from original posting time so there's not really anything in there

maeve tag: pictures of my dog reside here

foster tag: my family fosters dogs sometimes, so if we've got a foster and i post a picture, it goes here

matryoshka dog, blue is your color, gi posting, betsy's ordination song, evan's dream journal: personalized tags for friends of mine

TANGIBLE CONCEPTS:

born to blow your mind or something along those lines: art! From the last shadow puppets' "miracle aligner"-- pretty much everything but photography...

the human eye is the loneliest creation: ...because this is the photography tag. I typically only use it when an image doesnt fit into any other tag, so its basically my "a" tag but for like formal images only. Kind of an ocean vuong quote but i changed it from "the human eye is god's loneliest creation" to that bc i go back and forth on god and whatnot

there's a brand new talk but it's not very clear: fashion, both in the conceptual runway sense and the "this is cute, i would wear this" sense. Aptly from david bowie's "fashion"

play pause rewind: anything having to with film or tv (that i dont have a specific tag for)-- gifsets, interviews, editorial style guides, etc.

people!: pictures where you can put a name to the face, so either celebrities or pictures that have their name in the caption

let it go free: items-- jewelry, knick knacks, tchotchkes, etc. A combination of things i would want and things i find beautiful, which are not necessarily mutually exclusive

cabinet of curiosities: a multitude of objects at once-- dollhouses, boxes full of stuff, dishes of jewelry. Its different from "let it go free" because i said so

interiors: decor, interior design, etc.

dishes: plates and platters and whatnot that i like

they really want you: dolls. From hole's "doll parts"

the light on your door: mirrors. From the velvet underground and nico's "i'll be your mirror"

releases: cars, usually crashed or rotting or in some other form of disuse, but also just normal, completely fine cars. Go watch crash 1996 dir. david cronenberg and then we'll talk

hundred voices: spirals. Also concentric circles.

nacreous: pearls, things with a mother-of-pearl inlay, etc

it's coming coming down: eyes. From sonic youth's "beauty lies in the eye"

bad girl meat: teeth. From lady gaga's "teeth"

divine and sharp: weapons, or at least some very pointy things one shouldnt run with

happiness is: a warm gun. Guns in general actually-- this is my tag for guns. From the beatles' "happiness is a warm gun". Duh

prisms: food. Lots of cake in this tag but its all foods not just cake.... i just like cake

o sailor: sailing, nautical stuff, ships, etc. From fiona apple's eponymous song

it's buzzcut season anyways: cutting hair, from lorde's "buzzcut season".

tattoos: well, its tattoos. Not necessarily ones i would want or even inspiration for future tattoos, its just that if a tattoo is the main focus of an image, it goes in here

invitation to peace: deer tag, from system of a down's "deer dance".

draw blood just to taste it hold bones just to break them: canine tag as in dogs, not the teeth, and also one that i wish wasnt so long because man this is a pain to type out. From nicole dollanganger's "dog teeth"

weird fishes: fish. From radiohead's "weird fishes"

lo voy a tener que matar: cats! From los saicos' "el entierro de los gatos". Also yeah i know it means "i'm going to have to kill him" i just think its real funny

in silence i have pulled myself free: tag for horses and all things horse related. From pj harvey's "horses in my dreams"

cowboys are frequently secretly fond of each other: cowboys. From willie nelson's eponymous song

they don't love you like i love you: places i grew up in/nearby-- it's pretty much everything west of colorado with a bit of mexico in there. From yeah yeah yeahs' "maps"

like the blue blonde hollyhocks of the dead: flower tag (all sorts, not just hollyhocks). Another bastardized quote, this time from sandra cisneros' a house on mango street-- the original is "dusty hollyhocks thick and perfumy blue-blond hair of the dead". Very good book you should read it

we return to each other in waves: things relating to the water-- the ocean, lakes, rivers, etc. It's definitely a quote from something but i cant find the og source and i dont trust pinterest

consumed and refined: fire, things on fire, burning, yada yada yada

tamer: ice, snow, frozen things, etc

01010000: all things mold and rot. Referring, of course, to the date the world began to decay, which was the day it was created

FLEXIBLE CONCEPTS:

lamentations! lamentations!: art or quotes or whatever that make me scream cry throw up wail howl prostrate myself etc.

the everything the patterns: my humanity tag! Doubles as both an "awww, arent humans cute?" tag and a catchall for people who aren't celebrities and don't have their names in the caption

god and other highways: religion and god, but mostly god. If you see something in there and you think "how could this possibly be related to god OR religion?" mind your own damn business <3

i believe in angels: things i consider to be angelic, which is a classification system even more lengthy and unnecessary than this tagging system. From abba's "i have a dream"

bolts in the head: monsters and generally spooky things. And yeah ik frankenstein doesnt actually have bolts in his head and that was a lie the movie made up but also the nature and definition of a monster is just as illusory and invented as the bolts are

whispers in the air: ghosts, or the fleeting nature of things, or the imagined, or the abstraction of the memory. So yeah its ghosts

when i love you it's forever: the dead, but focusing on the flesh left behind instead of the ghost that proceeds ahead. From "confessions of a skull mask", in the anthology "necrophilia variations"

we have put her living in the tomb: houses or general structures, officially haunted or otherwise (because all buildings are haunted in some way tbh). From my favorite edgar allen poe story "the fall of the house of usher" :)

the roots of the tree: things relating to childhood, development, or family

the lovers: art, photos, etc typically with two things interacting in some familiar way. Not necessarily nsfw, but theres definitely some lesbian erotica in there so beware

cut open my sternum and pull my little ribs around you: gore and blood and all that fun stuff. Not all images of blood go in here so if youre sensitive about pictures of blood beware. You probably shouldnt follow me if you are tbh. Anways it's from purity ring's "fineshrine"

is it a love song?: hunger, desire, violence, and the place where they intersect. Gore is in here also <3 and it's a quote from the 1983 film the hunger

race my heart race my soul: images i really really love. I would say its my aesthetic but aesthetics are a lie propagated by Big Capitalism to get you to buy more shit you dont need so no its not and dont get it twisted..... from "i'll never learn" by the shangri-las, which is possibly my favorite song. I go back and forth on what my favorite song is, but this one's up there for sure

put on your red shoes and dance the blues: all things red. From david bowie's "let's dance", but the original or 2002 remaster and not the 2018 remaster because as much as i love saxophone its totally out of the blue in the intro of the 2018 remaster and i dont like it

love me blue: all things blue, from zayn's "blue". And i have no qualms with any version of this song because i love you zayn

twilight sun: all things pink, from something that someone said to me in passing once and i thought it was nice.

the dead image of life: all things green

capable of charming god: all things yellow

tête à tête: ballet, and things relating to ballet. Even pictures of models with their ribbons tied all messed up go in here, im sorry to say

do you think you've made the right decision this time?: departure, transit, etc. Coming from, though, not going to-- the emphasis is on the leaving. From the smiths' "london" (underrated track tbh)

disappearance in transformation: bugs that can fly-- mainly moths and butterflies, but some beetles and other grubs appear here too

kill this chorus: people in relation to water-- in puddles, swimming, drowning, etc. Im not saying what this is from... if you know you know and also you know why that phrase pertains to that imagery

the luckiest by far: celestial bodies, clouds, the sky, etc. From madonna's lucky star

heaven waits on the other side: weddings, mostly brides and wedding dress-type stuff. From nicole dollanganger's "heart shaped bed"

godspeed your love: all things relating to love (and occasionally heartbreak). From possibly the greatest love song ever, the righteous brothers' "unchained melody"

lily left alone: playing cards and things having to do with suites of cards. Kind of from bob dylan's "lily, rosemary, and the jack of hearts" but not really

bloodied black: martyrs, warriors, knights. Lots of pictures of armor and joan of arc imagery here

mourning lamb: farm animals, mainly sheep but also cows and pigs and whatnot. From ethel cain's "ptolemaea"

all down: typography, handwritten things, etc-- everything from journal entries to song lyrics to letters to typed notes

time is a river: myths, folklore, classics, historical art, etc. Technically a quote from heraclitus but every knows it bc of marcus aurelius

INTANGIBLE CONCEPTS:

from the fire roads: get ready for this because this and the following five tags are all connected. This is the tag equivalent of exposition on the hero's journey-- the scene is a small town, a childhood bedroom, a parking lot, etc. From bruce springsteen's "racing in the streets"

and i see big things for you: this is the first threshold (transformation) in the hero's journey. In this particular case, the protagonist becomes a groupie for a band that passed through the town, and this world of travel and casual excess is very different from the world theyre from. The scene is a basement shows, cigarettes in a hotel bed, underfunded recording studios, etc. From wolf alice's "white leather"

somewhere there's a party: the "challenges and temptations" part of the hero's journey-- our protagonist gets tired of the constant moving and, craving something more, ends up in a big city working as a model/socialite. The scene is a closet filled with frills and designer clothes, a gala, the backstage of a fashion show, etc. From the replacements' "swingin' party"

don't cry about it: now at the second threshold (abyss) of the hero's journey, things start going downhill. The protagonist loses themself in a wave of drugs, sex, and excess; the scene is now a large bathroom with a shattered mirror, a smoke-filled bdsm club, a nosebleed, etc. From lana del rey's "this is what makes us girls"

careful fear / dead devotion: with the third threshold (atonement) in the hero's journey comes the protagonist's realization of their own rock bottom and the desire to get better. The scene is a dark bedroom with light coming through the door, a park at night, an open window, etc. From the nationals' "don't swallow the cap"

born with a weak heart: the end of the hero's journey-- the protagonist takes what money they have left and splits, getting a place in the middle of nowhere and working as an attendant somewhere they won't be recognized. The scene is a clearing in the woods, a warm kitchen, a grocery store, etc. From talking heads' "this must be the place"

there was to be no death in eden: Mostly i use it for animals that i dont have a specific tag for, large groups of animals, animals in little people clothes, fantasy art, folk tales, children's books, or anything else i consider to be edenic. Im gonna be honest with you i have a weird idea of eden because i saw it in a dream ... more on that here if u scroll down to where it says september 22 2023. Its an ellen g. white quote im pretty sure, and while i personally hate the seventh-day adventists and everything that entails, i do respect a woman who gets visions

you got your good thing: things pertaining to heaven, which is a vibe i cannot possibly explain bc i saw it in a dream as well but i will link you here nonetheless and just hope you get it. In short basically heaven is an archive and the angels never build it right because they're working off pure image untainted by emotion and human perspective so everything looks a little wonky and clinical (they mean well though). From david lynch's "in heaven (lady in the radiator song", off the eraserhead 1977 soundtrack

pelican island: birds. Also any sort of ghostly island or mysterious shore. Ghosts, too. From deena metzger's eponymous poem

ST PAUL MOMENT ST PAUL MOMENT: the nature version of my humanity tag. Refers to the biblical tale of st. paul, who was blinded then healed by jesus as a way of converting him to christianity (which is fucking crazy and sooo dramatic but we're not here to talk abt that). The point is that its the sensation of being awakened to a natural power higher than yourself, like how flowers always have a number of petals that complies with the fibonacci sequence

thou mayest: being good, being bad, the feeling of being torn between your capacities for good and evil, the shame of feeling evil, etc. Go read john steinbeck's east of eden and then we'll talk

soul opium: solitude, isolation, loneliness

thorn without a rose: hole theory. From aerosmith's "hole in my soul" #sorrywomen

shadows: poems that come off as gray to me. Yeah i dont know either man they just do its a very specific vibe and there is no other way to describe it than gray

ritualism: the color white being used in a holy, ritualistic context (or at least a context i perceive as holy)

74: my yamaha tx750 was created in 1974, which is a year that is important to me for no other reason than that (if u go into the tag its pretty obvious and if its not.... well im not telling)

p: im not sayinggggg. But here you will find white horses and things about grief

are your ears on?: writing, particularly having to do with the idea of a grand overarching narrative that tropes are forcefully enacted within

SPECIFIC MEDIA:

it's impossible to compete with the dead: my tag for all things sharp objects-related. Tag is a quote from the book

spn: that would be the 2005 cw show supernatural. #Sorry

mcr: that would be the post-hardcore band my chemical romance. #Sorryyyyyyy

shattered teacup: tag for the 2013 tv show hannibal and no other version of thomas harris's work-- silence of the lambs and whatnot can be found in the "play pause rewind" tag

little nudie turtles: tag for the 2018-2023 hbo show succession. Quote by tom (it's literally tom).

and the angels wouldn't help you: tag for david lynch's twin peaks, both the show(s) and the film

time is a flat circle: tag for season one of true detective... haven't watched the other seasons of this show because honestly nothing can beat that. So its only for season one

#respect my hyperspecific slightly neurotic 100+ tag organizational system or else (i'll be sad)#this made me feel crazy bc 1) thats literally 3k words of tags and 2) why am i like this...... also sorry this took forever anon ilyyy <3 #anon!#hollyws #asks

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