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pseudowho · 16 days

Text

Monster

Your colleague, Higuruma Hiromi, has seemed so tired, for so long. You'd do anything to help him...right?

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Vampire!Higuruma, blood consumption, male masturbation, female masturbation, thigh fucking, PIV, m!receiving oral, f!receiving oral, sex-pollenish/aphrodisiac effects and vampirism

(dis)honourable mention to @delirious-donna for helping me to decide on the location of this flagrant sluttiness.

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Higuruma Hiromi was driven to skin-clawing distraction by daydreams of the taste of you, in more ways than one.

You never knew this, of course. Late-nights alone in the office invariably turned into debauched scenes of Hiromi, fucking into his fist and wishing it was your pussy instead; teeth piercing his own blood from his hand and being lapped up by his whining mouth, wishing it was your throat instead. Too many times had he needed to wipe droplets of blood and milky cum off his paperwork, shuddering with the remnants of his orgasm, his cock still semi-hard in his fist.

His latest cunning plan to sate this desperate hunger, had been unsuccessful. Sat at your desk, and breathing deeply of one of the scarves you had left in your drawer, had set his cock hardening against his thigh humiliatingly fast. Hiromi had tugged at the roots of his own hair, head thrown back and growling in frustration. Fumbling around in his bag, he had clumsily slopped lube into a pocket-pussy, and withdrawn the unit of packed red blood cells he had managed to steal from the local hospital.

Messy, and sweaty, Hiromi had drunk from this pack, while the slick sounds of his frantic self-pleasuring and fractured, sandy moans filled the empty office. Your scarf, steeped in the smell of you, remained draped over his face and nose the whole time.

With each passing day you grew sweeter, and riper. He could not cope. He could not cope. He would not last.

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One day, you hoped, you might arrive in the office before Hiromi. Whatever the time of year, he arrived before the break of dawn, and left after the sun had set. Vitamin D supplements had entered into your head as the next possible way to help him, and you shook yourself for being so ridiculous-- although...

"I...you don't have to buy me coffee every morning," Hiromi whispered, something tender coiling in his belly when you slipped a large black coffee and a bagged pastry onto his desk, "let alone breakfast."

"Well," you hummed, benign, "would you eat or drink if I didn't feed you?" Hiromi narrowed his eyes, a challenging little smile within them. A scoff.

"If I lied to you, would you believe me?"

"You're a great lawyer, Hiromi. But not smart enough to lie to me."

His laughter, rich and genuine, burst in you, a stunning puff of petals. You couldn't laugh with him, as your heart stalled in place. How could you not help him, when a match struck in his eyes, just from looking at you?

"Not that I ever would." Hiromi assured, low and smooth. His eyes never left yours once. His gravity threatened to pull you straight into his arms. "Lie to you, that is. You're the only thing that..." Hiromi trailed off, clearing his throat. He looked back to his papers, pale. You missed the tremor in his hands. You couldn't feel how he held himself back from taking you, in every way, here on his desk.

If only he knew you would let him.

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How the fuck did he find himself in the driving rain, three floors up, looking through your balcony windows? How the fuck had it gotten this bad? You were a drug. Forbidden fruit. Hiromi had not drunk from a person in so long, instead surviving on a knife's edge, from stolen blood bags and wild deer. He couldn't recall what came first; needing to be inside you, or needing you inside him. It all equated to hunger, anyway. He was starved.

Even a morsel would do. That's how he found himself outside your bedroom, in a storm, watching you fuck yourself in your bedroom when you should have been sleeping. The rainwater seeped through his black suit, doing nothing to cool the hot, velvet throb between his legs. His hair was swept back off his forehead, drenched, squinting against the biting wind as he marvelled at the image of you.

Clearly, you were unable to distract yourself from the ache in your belly, and the little memories of past orgasms that throbbed through your clit. Every time the thought of Hiromi fucking into you had crossed your mind, you reached for something in your drawer that would never satisfy that urge like he would.

You lay on your belly, stretched and stuffed all the way to your cervix with a dildo and rabbit. You had spent your generous paycheck on an expensive toy, one that thrusted. You knew, deep down, humping the dildo inside you with a pillow between your legs, that it would never be able to replicate the real thing. You felt the blunt little punch of the mechanical dildo against your belly, fucking it into you, as if it would soothe your spiritual famine. Your pleasure was dulled, without the accompanying tenderness of the man that you wanted...needed.

You wore an oversized t-shirt, and nothing else, and Hiromi watched how your back arched and undulated, rolling your cunt against the pillow. You gripped another pillow between your arms, biting into it, mewling at the deliciousness of being filled with something, anything. Hiromi's animalistic senses could hear your little cries, and the muffled buzz of your toys. He could smell the silky arousal that spilled out around your dildo. He could taste you on the air, almost.

It took every ounce of self-restraint not to allow his inhuman strength to take over, punch a hole through the glass and step in, silhouetted against the moonlight. Hiromi would allow his own musk, a curious trap in the art of seduction and predation, to seep over you. Hiromi would watch as you became pliable, supple. You wouldn't fight as he shushed you, pulling the dildo from you and licking it clean. You would whimper for him to replace the emptiness he had left behind, and he would, of course, oblige you. He would press you down by the back of your neck, as if you would ever resist him, and promise you that it wouldn't hurt. He would drink down your cries and your blood as he fucked you down against the sheets, his mouth lapping so fervently at your throat.

He hadn't even noticed how close to his own peak he had come, but as you tensed and keened against your pillow, he felt the dangerous tug of his balls tightening against the base of his cock. He wasn't even touching himself, how could he possibly--

"...H-Hiromi...haaaaah please please fuck me please...oooooohhhh 'm cumming--"

Hiromi came with a shout, with next to no warning, to hear you cry out his name. He convulsed, hunched and doubled-over, cursing and feeling thick ropes of his seed pulse through his jerking cock, diluting with rainwater and trickling down his thighs. He was stunned, panting against the glass, and he nearly swallowed his own heart when he heard the rustle of sheets, and a timid little voice pipe through the dark.

"Hello? Who's there?"

By the time you had pulled the dildo from yourself with a shiver, and opened the balcony door, there was nothing left behind but the churning storm. Clinging to the underside of your balcony, still panting and covered in his own cum, Hiromi knew that something deep within him had fractured completely.

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You were astounded to find yourself alone in the office as the sun set. Hiromi had left before you, with a sickly-looking smile, and a languid wave of that long, pale hand. While you were thrilled that he was going home at a normal time, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. He knew you were staying to work late on a case...and had, apparently, chosen this one night to leave before nightfall.

Night had, indeed, fallen fast. The sunset blotted out quickly behind grey rolling clouds. Another storm swept in, dragging the night along with it. You opened a window, seeking the earthy petrichor to balm your weary soul. You sunk your lovesickness into a bitter coffee, as if it was enough to replace the lackadaisical cleverness of the man who haunted your every waking moment.

You tried to distract yourself, awash in case notes. The hours dragged, long and lonely. Rubbing your eyes as the clock struck midnight, you stood to collect the key to lock the office, only to find it missing.

"Shit..." you murmured, sitting back at your desk to rummage in the drawers. You rummaged in all the drawers-- your boss's, your colleagues, Hiromi's...

The lights above you went out with a click. One by one, throughout the length of the office, the lights went out, out, out, and you were plunged into darkness. You felt a lick of ice down the nape of your neck, and every hair stood on end. You were being watched.

"Shit...shit... where's the key... where's the fucking key?" You hissed to yourself, terror crawling across your skin.

Hiromi was barely himself anymore as he stalked you from the shadows. His belly was a cavernous pit. The unholy combination of starvation and desire stirred the monster within. He lay in waiting, allowing you to be drawn in, running to him while you thought you were running away.

You had tried every nook, every pigeon hole, every secret hook throughout the office, but fear made you sloppy. You couldn't go home too late, when the streets were empty. Not with all the tales of hungry beasts hunting for lone prey in the night.

Why, then, as you approached the expansive boardroom at the end of the corridor, did you find yourself becoming so...mellow? You felt light, airy. You floated on an otherworldly, heady musk, so alluring. It reminded you of someone...but who? You couldn't remember, so many drinks deep into this odd botanical tonic. It throbbed through you, intoxicating and warm and your heart was beating between your legs by the time you swayed into the boardroom, undoing your hair, loosening the buttons of your blouse--

"...I'm sorry. I can't let you leave."

You blinked, slow and drunk. Frowning as your vision cleared, you saw Hiromi, illuminated by moonlight. He sat in the executive's chair, at the head of the great boardroom table. A flash of lightning set his features in dramatic clarity, his Roman nose casting deep shadows across his profile. Still, you thought, with your little hum or surprise, he looked pale. Tense. Tortured.

"...Hiromi...Hiro..." you whispered, padding over to him, barefoot. You couldn't remember when you had shed your shoes. Hiromi's skin prickled. The way your voice, sweet and breathy, ran straight to his cock, had him biting one finger between gradually lengthening canines, his other fingertips steepled against his deeply frowning forehead.

"...wouldn't leave anyway...not when I've...finally got you all to myself..." You slurred, grinning, a happy drunk. Hiromi couldn't help but bite one lip, smiling back at you, as you sat with a thud on his lap. His deadly, predatory pheromones increased against his will, to feel your soft, plush curves pressed to his lap. Hiromi trailed one arm around your waist. The part of him that screamed for him to stop, was trapped in a glass box in his mind.

"Yeah?" Hiromi whispered, one pale hand cupping your jaw. "You've been wanting me all alone? Tell me." She wants this it's okay it's not a trap she'll help me she'd always help me god she's so beautiful--

"I have. For months. I dream about you." The words left your mouth unbidden, dragged from you by some irresistible force. Hiromi drank them down, needing to hear you confess your desire for him.

"And what do you do?" Hiromi urged, his voice rough with need. "What do you do, when you dream of me? Tell me. Now."

"I touch myself and...and wish it was you, instead." Hiromi shivered.

"Until you cum? To the thought of my cock inside you? Until you're calling out for me?" You nodded, hurried and floppy. Hiromi cursed under his breath, a thumb brushing over your lips, salivating at the memory of you on your bed, crying out his name.

"Yeah," you promised, almost tearful now with the weight of your confessions, "I do, I cum so hard, but it's not enough, it's not the same as-- as--"

You slid a hand up Hiromi's chest, his sloppy tie and partially unbuttoned shirt, and were surprised by how cool he felt. He groaned beneath your touch, and you shivered, turning and pressing your chest to his. Hiromi panted beneath you, his face contorted, barely restrained. His hands felt so strong, trapping you to him by your waist, and you were sure there would be bruises left behind.

"Let me taste you," Hiromi convinced, his voice low and persuasive, "just once...you're going to help me." His fingers tangled in your hair now, angling your face up, and you blinked slowly, dazed and unquestioning. His teeth were sharp, bared. You could feel the length of his cock, throbbing against your belly. The frantic rise and fall of his chest made you feel like you were on a little boat, rocking over waves.

You had barely begun to nod, before he pulled you in for a kiss so deep, your head swam. Hiromi groaned into your mouth, forcing your lips to part with his own, devouring you with bliss and fervour. You had never felt so alive, your little heart beating like hummingbird wings. The taste of him was sinful. He wanted to carve out your soul and tie it to his, enshrined, fit for worship. By the time his tongue had plunged into your mouth, you were loose and supple on his lap.

Every ounce of uncertainty had left you. Just as Hiromi's mouth began to trail across your jaw, towards your neck, your hand slipped beneath his belt. Hiromi's lips released the lovebite he had just made above your pulse point with a pop, and his head flung back against the executive's chair's headrest. The moan that left his lips was more pornographic than you had ever dreamt. His silky foreskin seared beneath your touch.

"--f-fuck, god, I-- squeeze me harde--- oooohh-ooohhh shit...hnnnn--'

Hiromi's hands gripped the armrests, white-knuckled, and the two monsters inside him fought a bloody fight to see you slip to your knees between his own, batting his thighs aside. Your hand had released his cock, and if he didn't have it back again, or your blood in his mouth, he would break.

"Will you help me, or not?" He hissed at you, imploring you to spill your soul to him. Lost in this curious haze, you found yourself unable to refuse him an answer.

"...always help you, Hiromi." You mumbled, your fingers deftly undoing his belt. Your teeth unzipped his trousers, and the way Hiromi blushed when your eyes shot him such a filthy look, made you giggle. Maybe I'm the one in danger, he thought vaguely. You hummed, rubbing the pre-cum wet tip of his freed cock against your lips, glossing them. Hiromi's teeth bared again in a snarl, and he panted, bucking up into your hand. You teased him, stroking his length slowly, rolling his aching balls in one hand. Hiromi was frayed, furious with so many unfulfilled needs. He snapped.

"Open your mouth and let me fuck it or I swear--" Hiromi's uncharacteristic threats broke off into a strangled moan, when you took him into your mouth, hot and wet and all at once. Sucking at the tip, curling your tongue to cup the underside of his cockhead, you let the bobs of your head, and swirls of your tongue run smooth and sloppy.

The very air around you felt steeped in wildflowers, and the bizarre pseudo-alcoholic rush heightened every sensation. Even though there was clearly something very wrong with the man you had lusted after for so long, his taste his moans his fingers in your hair his trembling thrusts into your mouth, felt so right.

"--more tongue...deeper deeper yesssss...good girl, fuck-- f-fuck, good girl...wanna come in your mouth-- swallow it-- swallow me--"

You obliged him, and your consciousness remained dragged just a millisecond after your movements as you sunk your mouth lower, swallowing around his cockhead until your nose brushed his downy black happy-trail, and your throat constricted around his tip. Hiromi felt a slam of pleasure behind his navel as his orgasm hit, everything in him tightening with his release.

Hiromi's cries, so frantic and needy, crescendoed through the boardroom, and you felt cool ropes of cum spurt against the back of your tongue. Hiromi watched you swallow around his jerking cock, certain he must be dreaming the eroticism of this. By the time your dewy eyes opened again to look up at him, his cock still hard against your white-spattered tongue, Hiromi had lost all composure. Something white-hot and terrifying rolled off him, and you pulled away, spit and semen connecting you in a thread to his twitching cockhead. Your heart clenched, suddenly feeling a flicker of fear.

"...Hiromi? What's wrong?" You asked, cautious as you rose, scooting backwards onto the boardroom table and sliding yourself away from him. Hiromi stood, slow and deliberate. Something had changed within him. Every action of his seemed clipped, hyper-efficient and intentional. You felt your heady drunkenness increase, a thick pulse of desire shooting through your core, and you tried to ignore it with a whimper.

A flash of lightning illuminated you both-- for the briefest moment, you swore you could see the shadow of great wings behind Hiromi's lean, predatory form. A rumble of thunder rattled the boardroom. Drifts of rain swept the glass wall.

"...knew you'd work it out in the end." Hiromi cooed, his words licking at you, coaxing you back. "Clever girl. I told you I couldn't let you leave, didn't I?" He began to crawl along the table towards you, seemingly weightless, his movement so fluid-- so inhuman.

"You won't-- you won't kill me." You stated, as much to convince him as yourself. Hiromi swallowed, his pupils dilated, still crawling to catch up with you. As you darted back, he leapt forwards, dragging you to him by your ankle and caging you against the table beneath him. Only then, did you see the turmoil in him.

"I'd never. I could never. I wouldn't, ever." Hiromi spat, beseeching. You softened. He saw how you squirmed beneath him, knew how his hormones had ensnared you, making you desperate. Seeing you clutch your thighs together for relief, your nipples pebbled and almost freed beneath your blouse, Hiromi gulped again.

"I'm so-- so hungry." Hiromi growled, canines sharp against his lower lip, "And I need-- need-- I can make this good...for both of us. I can make you, if I need to, but I-- I'd rather not. Trust me. Please." He did not need to beg or force, when you were already undressing beneath him, as if you hadn't been waiting for him to take you since the first time your name had fallen from his lips.

"I trust you. Just...just...please." You begged now, and Hiromi shuddered, his eyes black as another flash of lightning flashed on his exquisite profile. He watched you, breasts heaving, now in just your bra and underwear. A burst of pheromones from him left you whimpering, your neck stretched to the side. He raised one strong, fine-boned hand to circle your throat, protecting it from himself as his mouth moved down your body.

"...so close already, aren't you? My beauty...best thing I've ever tasted." Hiromi whispered, his lips ghosting over one freed nipple, pre-cum dripping where his cock dragged against your thighs, "Need you sweeter...before I drink you." You whimpered beneath his mouth, suckling on your nipple until you cried out, your hands tangling in his inky, grey-streaked locks of hair. His hand kneaded at your other breast, relishing the softly yielding squish beneath his fingers.

Your thighs parted for just long enough to clamp Hiromi's cock between them, slick with his dripping pre-cum and your arousal. Hiromi gasped, canines grazing against your nipple, and your thighs clamped harder, Hiromi jerking with a cursing groan above you. He rutted spontaneously, sliding his cock between the plush of your thighs with a shaky, prolonged moan. Hiromi stayed this way for a few minutes, lapping and kneading at your breasts, fucking himself between your thighs. His pleasure threatened to peak again, and he hissed, slipping his cock free of the hot glove your thighs had made for him.

"Don't...don't." Hiromi growled, nipping your belly in warning as he slid himself down, shooting you a look to burn. "I'm not cumming on this fucking table, when I could cum inside you." Your breath hitched with the promise, feeling so weightless as Hiromi stripped your underwear from you. He took a moment to admire the glistening petals around your core, before sinking his tongue and nose between them with a moan.

Hiromi didn't allow you to last. Already so close to your peak, Hiromi's essence pulsed through you with your taste on his tongue. You were washed through with a skin-prickling, burning orgasm, plundering through you like wildfire. Hiromi had gripped you, and would not let you go, and with his mouth desperately lapping at your clit, your orgasm simply did not end.

You were a wreck, writhing and twisting and begging, all frantic cries of his name, alternately trying to shove Hiromi's head away and pull him closer. With one particularly hard push against him, Hiromi drew away, and bit onto the soft inside of your thigh in warning. You squealed as he drew blood.

You almost heard his heartbeat stop, enthralled by the droplets of blood running down your thigh. His tongue darted out, capturing them before they hit the table, your blood and arousal mixing on his tongue. You suddenly felt the danger you were in, in the jaws of a god as Hiromi's eyes turned up to you, settling on your neck. His eyes stayed fixed, his mouth puckering around the bite wound on your thigh, sucking just once before sealing the wound with a trembling tongue.

"...I'm going to fuck you, now." Hiromi stated, blunt, in warning, as he crawled back up your body. His cockhead grazed over your folds, and Hiromi grasped himself, lining his cock up with your fluttering core. "And you'll stay still...or I...I can't...you'll get hurt."

You couldn't possibly have refused at this stage. Hiromi was possessed by something stronger than himself, and you yearned to heal the fractured core of him. Grasping your wrists in one of his hands, and pressing them above your head, Hiromi coiled one hand in your hair, tilting your neck to the side.

You felt the insistent press of his cock filling you, as his teeth punctured your skin. You jolted, crying out, and Hiromi snarled against you, gripping you tighter. Hiromi felt the hot, salty, copper tang of your blood flooding his tongue, and his hips took on a life of their own. He slammed into you, again, and again, tasting your delicious little squeaks, bound beneath him with no means of escape. The human core of him was disgusted; the monster relished every second.

Allowing his otherworldly bliss to roll over you again, Hiromi felt you go languid and supple, your pussy clenching involuntarily around the bullying pace of his cockhead against your belly. Breathless moans muffled into your neck, interspersed with his gulps. Hiromi burst with adoration for you, and how well you were taking him. He had never felt so alive.

Hiromi felt your pulse fluttering in your wrists, and, convinced it was growing weaker, released your throat with a whine and a gasp, pressing his tongue against you again to seal the wounds. Hesitating only briefly, Hiromi fucked into you harder, faster, crimson dripping down his chin, dopey and lovesick. His hand tangled in your hair, pressing a bloody kiss to your cheek, feeling his orgasm creep up his back. His fingers plaited with your own above your head.

You were his, completely, happy to be used. The fervent thrust of his blunt, leaking cockhead against your sweet spot, his sandy whispers and gasps-- "...the best fucking medicine...I swear to god-- keep me forever, please, shit-- cum inside you, gonna cum inside you-- fffuck--" -- and the waves of Hiromi's strange, floral aphrodisiac, sent you tumbling over the edge again. Hiromi cursed, moaning, to feel you clench, writhing and arching beneath him, your cries rising in pitch as Hiromi fucked into you with total abandon, mesmerised by you.

"--more more moremoremore please-- Hiromi-- don't stop--"

Hiromi gritted his teeth, drawing himself out for as long as he could. Feeling the pummel and stretch of his cock inside you, slick and wet, set your eyes rolling back. When you bit into Hiromi's shoulder, he broke, buckling onto his elbows with a roar. His second orgasm blinded him, his balls emptying in violent contractions, thick white seed filling your belly and cunt in long, agonisingly pleasurable spurts. Hiromi swore, cursing and convulsing, crushing your body beneath his.

By the time Hiromi's vision returned, he was more human than he'd felt in months, as if giving into the monster was the only thing keeping him at bay. You floated back down to earth with him, feathersoft, on your bed of meadowsweet. A faint blush spread across Hiromi's nose at the sight of you, fucked-out, messy and spread beneath him.

"...I understand we have some important things to talk about," Hiromi said, bizarrely formal for a man whose cock was still inside you, "and I understand if you don't want to see me again after this, so we can organise a public date and time--"

Hiromi's voice muffled, still trying to talk as you pulled him to you by his tie, shutting him up with a kiss.

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devilish-mirage · 2 years

Text

Cute

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Summary; A boring night at the inventory with Steven somehow turned into a rather interesting row of events when you discovered just how easily flustered your co-worker really is.

Tags; Reader loved to tease Steven, idiots in love, mutual pining (sort of), suggestive theme, fluff, fluff, fluffy goodness!, Subby Steven and Dom Reader vibes, Marc and Jake as Steven best wingman, Donna cockblocking us, this fic used a lot of cheesy pick up lines

Word count; 2,4k

A/n; thank u as always for translating the Spanish sentences, bebé <3 @friendlyneighbourhood-parker

Masterlist

You huffed tiredly, silently celebrating when you scanned the last item in the box but then you caught the sight of another box not too far away from you, the box was full with unscanned items making you groaned in annoyance.

You sighed, deciding to take a quick break from that nauseous repeated motion. Propping your chin in the palm of your right hand, you shifted your eye sight to your co-worker who shared your unfortunate fate, Steven Grant who sit just a few feet away from you on another desk full of unscanned items.

The man's eyebrows furrowed every now and then when the old scanner doesn't work, you cringed when he dropped an item down, you saw him muttered something underneath his breath and picked the item back up.

He always come with messy hair and wrinkled mismatched shirt, today is no exceptions, as if he had no time to iron them properly. Did he not care about his image in the working environment? Well, you guess that's why he's always late.

You sometimes wondered why he's still working here. Donna, the manager of this section doesn't seem to like him at all and if you're being completely honest the pay is not that good either.

Truth be told he's a pretty passionate person if it came to tour guiding, you've seen him multiple times cosplaying as a tour guide, why didn't Donna gave him the part anyway?

He shifted his gaze towards you slowly as if he's afraid of getting caught but alas you caught him in the middle of the act, throwing him a lazy smirk making him quickly looked back down at the item on his hand, as if it was the most interesting thing in the room.

"Cute." You muttered, smiling widely as you watched him try to get a grip on himself. Placing both of your hand on the desk, you straighten your back, softly calling out for him, your voice rang through the empty room loudly.

"Hey, Steven?"

He looked back up immediately, shouting his answer, "Yes!" you saw him cringed at himself before he cleared his throat, "Y-yes?" he said again, quieter this time.

"Do you know what bees make?"

You felt yourself smiled at his confused face, "Honey?" he hesitantly say his answer making you grin wider at him.

"Yes, honey?"

You saw how his eyes went wide as saucers and he opened his mouth, stuttering the words but you didn't really cared about them right now, the only thing that mattered is how adorable he looked as he crumbled beneath your stare.

Stumbling and looking anywhere beside your face as his cheeks reddened at that simple sentence that you just said.

You really think he awoken something in you and you're not complaining. You felt the smile grew wider on your face. Oh, you'll know the days would fun from now on.

That was the first of many times you'll tease him with cheesy pick up lines.

"Hey, can I borrow a pen?"

You suddenly appeared behind him, smiling widely at his figure as he searched the item on his body, "I didn't bring any."

"How about a pencil?"

You said, he shook his head to the side softly, his eyes softened, frowning slightly at your direction. "That too, sorry."

You mirrored his frown, sighing softly before muttering, "Damn, then how could u draw my attention every single time?" out loud.

You looked up and met his eyes, you can't fight the smile from forming as he stood there, in silenced with his eyes wide open- like a deer in highlights.

He gulped, feeling himself getting nervous underneath your stare, he always find you to be so pretty and confident, it's intimidating.

"I- uh,"

He stuttered making you hummed softly at him, leaning closer so you could hear him better, not missing the way his breath hitched when you're just inches away from him.

"Go on, Steven. Let me hear you."

He couldn't said it, not when you're like that. The way his heart is beating so loudly reached his ears, he's afraid that you'll hear his rapid heartbeat.

"Nevermind,"

He muttered, looking down on his shoe as he held his breath, you smell so good but he doesn't want to feel like a creep.

"I think there's something wrong with my eyes," You suddenly said, without wasting a second he looked up again, eyes boring straight into yours.

"Are you alright? Do you need anything?!" he unconsciously leaned closer with a worried mixed with panicked expression, too busy worrying about you to notice how startled you looked at his action, he also didn't notice how the glint in your eyes slightly shine.

Oh? What's this?

"I can't take them off of you, Steven."

He shut his mouth before letting a breath out. You're just so- You almost had a heart attack when he suddenly looked back, facing his back at you.

"I- Is that Donna calling me? I gotta go!"

He looked back at you and nervously smiled at you, nodding his head repeatedly and stumbling his way to the back.

Your gaze didn't left his back until he's completely out of your sight, shaking your head softly while smiling.

"Cute."

Ever since that day you've noticed that Steven has been very busy. Donna did in fact called for him a few days ago, she assigned him a couple works to do, sadly you only share a few of them and you didn't want to admit it but you kinda miss that easily flustered coworker of yours.

Thankfully you just finished this week meeting, too busy staring at Steven to noticed that all of your co-workers has left the both of you on your own.

When you finally did realized, you caught yourself waltzed your way to him, smiling slightly as he focused on his notes instead of his suroundings, he always got lost in his own world, that's such a Steven thing to do.

"You should really try (Insert the name of your country here)'s foods."

That's the first thing that you said to him. He looked up, smiling softly at your direction as you stood next to him. It's been a few days since you've talked and he also share the same feeling as you did.

"Oh- of course, I've been meaning too. "

You nodded your head, looking ahead for a second before shifting your gaze towards him again, smiling as you said the word, "I have a recommendation."

"What is it?"

"It's-"

"Wait, Let me write it down, I don't want to forget it." he cut you off, looking down again to grab a pen and tried to find an empty page on his note.

You chuckled at his behavior, leaning slightly towards him, "Me."

The pen on his grasp halted, did you just said what he thought you did?

"Excuse me?"

You raised an eyebrow at him with an innocent expression, "I'm from (country)," stepping closer to him with each word that fell from your lips. "You could try me."

He unconsciously stepped backwards, his hands trying to grab anything that could help me calm down but he was met with a wall.

"But you're not food?"

He nervously smiled when he felt his back already hit the wall behind him, you hummed at him, letting your gaze fell to his lips for a moment.

"I don't know, why don't you try and find out?"

His breath hitched once you brushed your fingertips on his forehead, brushing away the hair that covered his face.

"Are you guys flirting again?"

You looked back and stare at Donna who already folded both of her hand in front of her chest with a deep frown painted her face.

"That could wait." She said, her voice was slightly louder and tinted with annoyance as if she knew you were about to mock her.

You smiled at her direction but let out a, "It really couldn't." under your breath.

She only motioned her head to the side, silently asking you to follow her.

"Bummer." You let out another breath, looking back to where Steven is. He stood there in all his awkwardness as he watched the two of you interacted.

"I'll see u in a bit, Steven."

You winked at him and turned your back, making your way to the door, you wouldn't let the teasing end of course, you purposely sway your hips to the side seductively.

You slightly turned your head and caught a glimpse of him checking you out, you giggled. He's really easy to read, such a cute fellow.

"All you have to do is flirt back, Steven."

"no es tan difícil, hermano." (It's not that hard, brother)

"It is, Jake!"

He suddenly shouted to the mirror, his face fell, immediately regretting his action the next second.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head, "I'm just really nervous around her." he looked back up to stare at his alters, "I don't know what it is."

"Really?" his alters only raised their eyebrows at him, he could clearly heard their tone, it was lanced with a lot of sarcasm, "You really don't know?"

Steven bit his lips, gulping his saliva down as he thought to himself before saying the words that was on his mind, his thoughts about you.

"She's just that pretty, alright!" He finally admitted, "She's confident, kind, also she's very good with words."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah! She also smells really nice, I swear the way she smiles light up the room like how could someone look so-"

Steven suddenly stopped mid sentences, while both of his alters shared a knowing look to one another.

Oh, oh. The realization came to him and it hit him like a train, he looked at his alters who looked back at him with a teasing smirk plastered on their face.

"Did you finally get it?"

Steven only nodded his head without a word, too embarrassed to say anything, he palmed his forehead as he tried to hide his blush.

Steven strode inside the inventory in confidence, today's the day, today is the day he'll finally threw a pick up line at you and caught you off guard, he also planned to ask you out, he took a deep breath.

"Don't worry, we got your back."

"así es." (That's right)

He silently thanked his alters, sitting in his place, his gaze already fixated on your face.

You could felt your skin getting hot because how hard he's been staring at you.

"No pick up line today?"

He said making you let out a small laugh, shaking your head slightly to the side you said, "I have no pick up lines in mind because I only have you in my mind right now."

He nodded his head, nervously gripping his jacket before taking them off, it's getting pretty hot.

Gulping as he repeat the pick up line that he picked. You wouldn't know but he spend a lot of time arguing on which pick up line is the best.

"Um, y/n?"

"Hm?"

You hummed at him, not looking up and continued to scan the item in your hand.

"What's your last name?"

You raised an eyebrow at that, that's new.

"L/n," you said, putting the item down and finally meeting his eye, he could almost felt like he'll melt. "that's my last name."

"C-could you spell it for me?"

He cursed himself in his mind, how could he stuttered?

You didn't really pay any mind to it and spelled your last name for him, slowly letting the alphabets fall from your lips as you keep your eyes still at him who seem to be writing them down, you wonder what's it for though.

"It's kinda hard,"

You stood up, "Let me help you write-" already making your way to him before he cuts you off, "Wouldn't it be easier if you change it to Grant instead?"

"That's right, Steven!"

He heard both of his alter said at the same time, making him somehow proud, the feeling fill his chest as he looked up, a proud expression sits on his face but it quickly shifted to a panicked one when he realized you're staring him down with a smirk, both of your hands were on the table.

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Stay strong, hermano!" (brother)

"Keep your feet to the ground!"

"Y-yes,"

"Can I really have it, Steven?"

"Don't back down now!'

You leaned closer, lifting his chin with your fingers so he could looked up at you, you could see how his pupils dilated, "Hm?" that teasing smile of yours never leave your face as you leaned closer to him, your eyes fell to his lips.

"She's really cute from up close though."

His alter said making him furrowed his eyebrows when he heard them.

"Jake!"

That's Marc, Steven unconsciously nodded his head in agreement, Marc always has his back.

"What? You disagree?"

"No, you're right."

He almost fell, surprised that his only hope was agreeing to what Jake's said.

"She's really my type too."

"I might have her all for myself-"

Steven cut Marc's word, gulping as he braved himself to said them, "I can give it to you if you want." he can't lose you, no, especially not to this idiots.

"Hey!" they both said at the same time and Steven just outright ignored them.

You lift your eyebrow, tilting your head to the side.

He took a deep breath, looking at you directly, throwing all the anxiety and nervousness out the window, "Grant. My last name."

You let out a weak laugh that made him swore he almost fell down on his knees by the sound of it, it was heavenly.

"Y/n Grant,"

You hummed at him, placing your fingers on your chin as if you're thinking about it.

Steven could felt his heartbeat beating hard through his ribcage when he heard you said that, once again afraid you'll hear them. He knew you did though.

"I like the way it sounds."

Should he buy a ring on his way home? How many kids do you want? What should he name them-

"Wait, you're moving too fast, Steven!"

He blinked, Marc's right, you putting your first name and his last name together was making him imagining things far in the future.

"Does that mean I could take you out for dinner?"

'That's a good start, right?' He thought to himself and he could hear his alters agreeing on the back of his mind.

You let out a giggle, "Yes, I would love to." smiling as you said the word you've always associates with Steven, "Cute."

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant #moon knight #marc spector #moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #steven grant x you #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight au #marvel moon knight #mcu moon knight #mira writes shts #moon knight fluff #steven grant fluff

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atropalugosi · 5 months

Text

Played through the Donna good end route on @resident-lover and had to do something with our favourite dollmaker's little flirt about drawing her during work.

So have a little post good end moment between her and my MC with as much awkwardness and gay panicking as should be expected.

"Can I draw you?" Valeria asks quickly and loudly, grasping the arm of Donna's chair with white knuckles. The botanist quirks an eyebrow at the younger woman, amused.

"You already know I don't mind, tesorina," she laughs teasingly, a sparkle in her eyes. It had been months since the two officially started dating, and things were going great, but still when Donna looked at her like that she couldn't help but feel like her next request would be stupid. Taking a deep breath, she readies herself and just rips the metaphorical bandaid off.

"Can I draw you like an Italian girl?" Valeria asks again, voice pitching embarrassingly. She watches anxiously as Donna's face blooms red and her jaw drops slightly, her eyes widening like a deer in headlights. Fuck! She shouldn't have asked that! It had just been a silly meaningless flirt the older woman had made to test the waters back then, why did Valeria think to bring it up again? She quickly pushes back and out of Donna's space, fully ready to fumble out an excuse to leave and die of embarrassment somewhere else.

"I'm sorry! Forget I said anything, I'm gonna go make us some tea or-"

"Dolcézza, wait!" Donna hurriedly responds, seeming to have gotten her bearings. She takes Valeria by the arm possessively, pulling her down so their eyes are level. "You... are asking me to pose for you," she blushes again as she squeaks out, "nude?"

The redhead nods slowly, her own cheeks heating up at the thought of her love agreeing. "Yeah- but! But only if you're comfy with that!" She says firmly, staring intently into Donna's eyes to let her know it really is okay to say 'no'. Her concern appears wasted though as a cheeky grin graces Donna's face.

"I was... sort of hoping you'd have asked again after we were interrupted the first time," she admits. Valeria's head feels about ready to explode with the way that small confession makes blood rush to her face. Donna truly was insatiable with her desire for the botanist in training. Feeling emboldened, Valeria leans in until their lips are nearly brushing and responds.

"Then let me help you undress and get ready."

#resident lover #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #valeria (maiden oc)#my writing #lugosi speaks #if nobody reads this i know my girl cap will read this because she's just as gay for donna as i am

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midgardian-witch · 1 year

Note

From the prompt list: “You’re the one avoiding me.” with Steven? 🥺

Alrighty! This turned a little angsty (like a tiny bit). I hope that's ok, anon!

Tongue-tied

Send me a prompt from this list + a character and I'll write a short reader drabble

tags: friends to lovers (kinda) | angst(y) (a tiny bit) | gn!reader

ships: Steven Grant/Reader

AO3

Edit: added AO3 link

"You're the one avoiding me."

"So why are you avoiding me?"

You look at him sternly, your hands placed firmly on the gift shop counter. Steven freezes like a deer caught in the headlights.

"You're the one avoiding me!", he blurts out in a panic. From the corner of his eye he can see Marc facepalming in the metallic surface of a scarab keychain.

You raise your eyebrow, your face a perfect mixture of disbelief and amusement. With a short laugh you shake your head.

"Really, Steven?"

"I'm sorry. I panicked.", he mumbles, his hands fidgeting with his sleeves. Your posture relaxes and you start feeling a little guilty about cornering Steven at work. You just didn't know how else to approach him, since he stopped visiting all the places you would usually meet, either planned or by accident.

"I just-..."

You look at Steven intently, eyes never wavering, urging him to continue.

Just say it, Steven. We talked about this.

He knew Marc was right but he just couldn’t. Nerves were bubbling up in his throat and just thinking about confessing to you made him choke up.

You were used to Steven stumbling over his words when he was excited but this was unfamiliar. Steven wasn't really one to be tongue-tied like this. It made you worry and feel even more guilty for forcing this conversation on him during his work shift.

"It's ok. You don't have to explain if you don't want to, Steven.", you try to paddle back and diffuse the situation, "Just-... Could you not avoid me anymore? I miss you."

Steven feels his heart drop into his stomach. He never wanted to hurt you, he just doesn't want to lose you by confessing his more than platonic feelings for you.

He swallows hard and nods. With a smile he replies: "I won't. I promise."

You take a deep breath and return his smile. Slowly you take a step back from the counter.

"Alright then. Uhm- text me when you feel like talking. Or just hanging out. We don't have to talk. Just-" You clear your throat awkwardly. "You know…", you finish lamely.

Steven can do nothing but stare at you. Even like this all he can think about is how in love with you he is.

He is pulled out of his reverie by the sight of Donna approaching behind you. You notice how his face suddenly drops and follow his gaze. As you realize that his mean-mannered boss is coming your way you give Steven a small wave and turn to leave with a silent Call me on your lips.

He watches you go, his heart pounding so loudly in his chest he can't even hear Donna berate him.

#steven grant/reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight/reader #fran-writes

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cleolinda · 17 days

Text

Weekend links, May 5, 2024

My posts

It seems like it couldn’t possibly be true, but Lauren Bacall seems to be the first “Lauren,” and you can see in the U.S. baby name graphs when she hits the screen. I’m leaving open the possibility that someone female, somewhere, was named Lauren before 1944, but as a Lauren, I haven’t seen evidence of it yet.

Reblogs of interest

Late-breaking news: Bernard Hill (best known as Théoden in Lord of the Rings) has passed at age 79.

The Hot Vintage Lady Polls: Reminder that I’m not affiliated with the Hot Vintage Brackets (or any brackets); I just like vintage ladies and get easily obsessed with things. Greta Garbo and Rita Hayworth are in danger this time (I am letting the chips fall where they may with Ava). I would say I don’t understand people, but I’m sure Audrey people don’t understand me, either. That said, the Flaming Chaos Elmo inside me wants to see the Hepburns matched against each other.

@hotvintagepoll is also running polls to cast an imaginary vintage Dracula movie, as a treat.

Speaking of: Season’s Greason’s, Dracula Daily fans! Good Friend Jonathan’s time loop begins again.

May the Fourth be with you (And also with you)!

New music from Garbage! “Better Not Lie to Me,” “Revenge and Hurt,” a cover of “Song to the Siren,” and a new mix of “Bad Boyfriend” with Dave Grohl on drums this time.

New music from Dua Lipa! I’ve liked all the singles a lot so far, and ”Whatcha Doing” is the album song I like the most as of this writing. Good luck to Dua this week cracking the Billboard Taylor 100!

Hozier Watch 2024: At first I was just poking fun at myself for having links here two weeks in a row, and now it’s just a thing? I see this “All art has political dimensions” gifset go by at least once a week, but I’m reblogging it this time for the user discussion.

(“I wrote a song called the Monster Mash, so you should play that. That’s one of mine.”)

“Here are some more articles about the increasing number of First Nations who have been able to reintroduce bison to their lands.”

How to spot fake news (namely: slow the fuck down)

The illustrious career of clip-art wolf Lumpy Kiba

Call an ambulance… but not for Alfred Pennyworth

No one was doing it like costume designer Eiko Ishioka

Crab Cake (Scott Fraser, 2019)

Unhinged lifestyle editorials, a triptych

Video

Honestly this dual mating dance was my favorite video this week

The Donna Summer song that Brian Eno called “the sound of the future”; I added a video of her performing it 22 years later, and he wasn’t wrong

This seems fine: An... upside-down... deer guitar that...?

Watch for the exact moment this dad realizes why his child thinks mothers in labor foam at the mouth

Come for Werner Herzog’s fear of chickens; stay for a quote that will blow you straight back to Journalfen 2004

This video of birds eating seeds and drinking orange juice is also self care

Eventually someone will stop Chocolate Guy, but today is not that day

The sacred texts

Hope is a weapon. Hope is a skill

Personal tag of the week

Cats, including this cat full of love, designed by poll, and the two types of kittens.

#weekend links #odds and ends #linkspam

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mangoslixes · 2 years

Text

'Do you remember what we were speaking of earlier, of how bloody, terrible things are sometimes the most beautiful?' he said. 'It's a very Greek idea, and a very profound one. Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful, to souls like the Greeks or our own, than to lose control completely? To throw off the chains of being for an instant, to shatter the accident of our mortal selves? Euripides speaks of the Maenads: head thrown I back, throat to the stars, "more like deer than human being." To be absolutely free! One is quite capable, of course, of working out these destructive passions in more vulgar and less efficient ways. But how glorious to release them in a single burst! To sing, to scream, to dance barefoot in the woods in the dead of night, with no more awareness of mortality than an animal! These are powerful mysteries. The bellowing of bulls. Springs of honey bubbling from the ground. If we are strong enough in our souls we can rip away the veil and look that naked, terrible beauty right in the face; let God consume us, devour us, unstring our bones. Then spit us out reborn.'

We were all leaning forward, motionless. My mouth had fallen open; I was aware of every breath I took.

'And that, to me, is the terrible seduction of Dionysiac ritual.'

- The Secret History, Donna Tartt

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angelkakewritings · 1 year

Text

His magnum opus.

Karl Heisenberg x Virgin!Reader

One shot!|| NSFW

Pronouns used: she/her/hers | no use of y/n

Disclaimer: I do not own the canon character of Karl Heisenberg’s or any of the canon characters or canon lore or the Resident Evil universe !

CW: Heavy religious themes! (No mentions of any specific religious figure ) fictional renditioning of worship, virginity loss, cult, cult like worship, cursing, mentions of smoking, power imbalance, female reader, choking, brief use of Karl’s power, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding, semi-public, use of google translate for one dialogue!

Author’s Note: The following story does contain heavy religious themes but does not depict any actual faith or religious figure! Its all liberties taken from the story telling that resident evil:village provided! Please read with caution! reader is a shrine maiden to mother Miranda and is now the subject of interest and desire for Karl Heisenberg! Listened to a lot of rammstein and ghost while writing this! Enjoy!

Pleasure.

The word was too threatening, too unruly and too carnal to fit into her sanctimonious world that was filled with precious hymns, the burnt flesh of sacrifice and utter devotion to the divine Mother Miranda, the holy overseer of her village.

From a tender age, she had been one of the select few young women who had been chosen to undergo sound religious training to devote mind, body and spirit to serve their lords as shrine maidens.

“Dear Mother Miranda, forgive us our sins. Dear Mother Miranda, forgive us our sins. Dear Mother Miranda, forgive us our sins.” The sweet sonnets of forgiveness left her beestung lips in between the gentle yellow flickering of the match held between her fingertips, dutifully lighting the flora coated stick of incense in dedication to Lady Donna Beneviento.

The lit match revealed how her appearance starkly contrasted her dreary, corpse filled, cold village.

A vision of veiled whites accompanied by a pair of doe eyes, pouty lips and rose flushed cheeks.

She was lovely.

She was lively

She was pure.

Gracefully, she lowered herself to her knees in front of the portraits of the four lords of the village, exposing her bare ankles that were wrapped in rosary beads made from precious metals and ended with the sigil of Mother Miranda.

Every night would start and end the exact same way, an existence made to eat and breath worship left nothing else to chance. But tonight, faith would challenge the structured way of life for the shrine maiden as the large, wooden doors crept open.

The cruel winds of winter pierced her skin, abruptly silencing her tranquil worship to turn her head around. Like a deer at the end of the hunter’s arrow, her eyes widened in disarray and awe at seeing the broad form of the fourth and most dangerous Lord of the village who was standing before her.

“Don’t let me stop you, you made that filth sound pretty.” His baritone voice spoke while looking down at the young woman, wisp of smoke from his cigar left his mischief curled lips.

“Keep going.”

“Lord Heisenberg.” She gasped out, bringing herself up to her feet.

She wasted no time in bowing her head.

It was almost ridiculous how he towered her.

“None of that nonsense…” He trailed off, using the tips of his fingers to lift her chin up towards him, ”I want to see you.”

His demand caused her eyes to flutter open towards him, looking at him in pure reverence.

She trembled at the weight of his eyes gazing over her, unconscious to the fact of how enthralled he was in the way her beauty managed to shine through the lace of her veil that was meant to conceal and shy her away from the rest of the world.

It was heartbreaking to see how ethereal she was, too ethereal to be amongst the foolish, crazed and homely villagers.

When Heisenberg first laid eyes on her, he wanted to hate her, he wanted to be repulsed by the idea of her.

How could he not? The young woman was beloved by Mother Miranda, a prodigy of her strict training and mindless preaching.

The hellfire colored flames of hatred simmered into infatuation and obsession.

In between the long ceremonies and spitfire sacrifices, the maiden would bare an air of sweetness to her, even going as far as looking and treating the moronic freak of Moreau with a glimmer of kindness to her eyes.

Perhaps, the hatred he bore was towards Miranda for ensnaring the woman in a gilded cage.

Amongst the long and tedious rules of the shrine maiden, the young women were stringently instructed to not create any sort of conversation with the lords as it was an insult and unbecoming, they were simply tasked to be seen but not heard.

Karl found a loophole through Miranda’s rules, as per usual. With a simple request of having his cigar lit, he managed to have her close to him. Gradually, they were no longer strangers to each other and no fools in each other’s hushed advances, their eyes always intensely met each other while she lit his thick cigar, how his hand met the curve of her hip and how her fingers caressed his wrist while he inhaled the ashy and sultry notes of his vice.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” She hushed out, her words betrayed by her own body as she grew feverish and melted in the cup of his large hand.

“Afraid mother goose is gonna walk right in?” He hummed out, enjoying the sensation of heat pooling at the pit of his loins at witnessing how she was falling under his touch.

Her eyes darted towards the goliath sized statue of her mentor, the sudden weight of her vows caused her chest to heave up and down.

“There’s nobody here but us.” He reassured her, lulling her back into him.

She was now a small bird in the palm of his hand.

The space was now closed between them, the colored stain glass reflected like a kaleidoscope against their skin. His leather cladded fingers traced the softness of her cheeks and flowed down to her jawline.

“I’ve never been kissed before.” She quietly confessed, her face dusted in pink at the intensity of the shared atmosphere.

The words could’ve brought him to his knees at that very moment.

“There’s nothing to it, liebling.” He grinned, “But, I won't do anything that you don’t want to, just say the word and I’ll leave.”

The proposition was strong yet delicate enough to give courage to the butterfly to break free from its chrysalis. She pressed forward, frightened yet marveled at her own sentience away from Mother Miranda’s all seeing eye.

Heisenberg relishes in how feather soft her lips was against his scarred ones.

Dissolving into the wave of the kiss, she pressed her silky body into his. Even through the thick material of her bodice, he could feel how her heart skipped beats like the foot of a rabbit bouncing against the winter snow.

Their limbs tangled, the overwhelming sensation of hand against flesh and their shared lust had caused Karl to pick her up with the utmost care, treating her like fine china with the deep rooted fear he might break her in a million different pieces if mishandled.

Upon draping her down, he took his sunglasses off to get a better look at her.

She looked exquisite on top of the stone altar dedicated to the sacrifices given to Miranda, her eyes were dreamily blown out ,her veil falling off of her head and her lips now wet and swollen from their kiss.

“I want you, all of you…” She spoke, looking up at her lord through dewdrop wet eyelashes.

The maiden’s command fell into a plea, one that drove Heisenberg into further madness and sent a jolt of electricity to his cock that was already raw and vulgarly straining against his pants.

He caressed her cheek, “I want you to be sure, sweet girl.” His accent thickly jumped off each syllable his tongue made.

“Please, I know there’s more to this provincial existence…” She trailed off, he watched on with his mouth agape as her legs parted and fell on each side of the table. “I just want someone like you to prove it to me.”

The supplication was shameless, agonizing and yearnful in nature, it was perfect enough to give permission to Karl to sweetly comply.

With the raise of his hand and in god-like manner, he lifted her rosary cladded ankle up to him and into the grasp of his hand, making haste to her frock and pooling it up towards her waist.

“Does Miranda know that her sweet girl walks around her altar without any underwear?” He tsked out, beginning to trace around the bridge of her pubic bone, in awe at how the glow of the candle light made the slick of her arousal glisten.

“Are you gonna punish me for it, my lord?” She cooly asked, looking towards her superior with half lidded eyes, his free hand beginning to coil and flex at the nape of her neck like a python.

“So ein dreckiges Mädchen…you’re gonna learn to love every second of it.” He hummed, beginning to knead the bundle of nerves between her legs.

The temperature of her body began to rise as Heisenberg began to work his fingers into her, prodding and probing into her wet cunt. The halls of worship echoed with the vulgar squelching and the sound of the maiden descending further and further into the forbidden concept of pleasure.

“You’re trembling, bunny…” He leaned forward to press a kiss on her open mouth, her hitched breath soft and delicate like the breath of a phantom against the stubble of his beard. The hand on her neck served as an anchor, keeping her in place as her body began to twitch and contort in stinging excitement at the knot undoing itself in her lower belly.

The girth of his fingers began to pound against the spongy, sweet flesh of her cervix like a square hammer against white milky bone, destroying her essence and leaving her a mess of sopranoesque notes ripping from her throat and a canvas of Monet like swatches of sweat and pinks.

A baritone laugh rumbled from his chest at the exquisite realization that Mother Miranda would never be allowed to lay eyes on how exquisite and divine her shrine maiden looked upon her own altar.

“I want you! Please, take me already!” She cried out on top of the stone hill.

Gripping the back of her neck, he silenced her plea with the sting of a kiss.

The decibels of boney, ivory teeth clashing against each other was accompanied by the buckle of his belt tinkling and chittering while being pulled apart, revealing the bulbous nature of his erect manhood.

His large body crashes into her, consuming and filling her to the brim of himself. The shrine maiden writhes and begins to whine and moan out into the night as he begins to thrust away.

Like the pluck of a harp, his movements were precise and intuitive enough to draw out the loveliest sounds.

“Look at me, liebling.” He groans out, grabbing her face to force her eyes wide open. “This is what you wanted, yes, hm?”

Frantic, in pure anguish and ecstasy, she nods.

“Use your fuckin’ words, I know you can my sweet girl.”

“I’ve wanted you to ruin me for so long now.” The woman pants, hyperfixated in the manner his dog tags were swinging in front of her face, “I want you to claim me with your seed and take me away from her.” She mewls out.

In the sweet realization Karl had successfully broken her, his head fell back.

The world felt minute in that very moment, he felt as if he could swallow the world and his ungodly creations whole with no consequence, no burden on his wicked conscience. He wanted nothing more than to keep the angelic like woman safe with him and carry her every step he made.

He pulled apart their tethered bodies, beads of his seed and her slick corded the two together.

Karl took one final look at her, a concoction of his cum dripping out of her and her body littered in bruises and tattered in what was once white fabric, she was perfect in his eyes.

She was his magnum opus.

#fanfic #just for fun #oneshot #my writing #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x y/n #karl heisenberg x reader #smut #re village #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil

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crashdevlin · 1 year

Text

Permission Granted 1- New Girl

Author’s Note: This is the first chapter of Permission Granted, the first part of To Have it All. This is Open...from Jensen's side!

Summary: Jensen meets Y/n, the new guest star on Supernatural. There's an instant connection, but a dozen reasons not to pursue it.

Pairing: none yet, eventual Jensen x Reader

Word count: 4354

Story Warnings: none really, little bit of Y/n's shitty self esteem peeking through

~~~~

"They're replacing Ruthie quick, aren’t they?" I commented to Jared as I read over Dabb's email in the Hair and Makeup trailer. "Wonder why they didn't just bring Rowena back."

"Fresh face, probably. I dunno. You know Dabb's always looking for new female characters to kill off." Jared shrugged and took a drink of his froufrou iced latte.

"Oh, if we're lucky, maybe she'll be a lesbian so they can leave her broken in a bathtub," I said, rolling my eyes as they started blow drying Jared's hair.

"Or a fuckin’ love interest so they can kill her off in two episodes," he shouted over the sound of the dryer.

"Shoshanna got more than two."

"Barely, Ackles! She got two and then forty-five seconds of a death scene!”

I nodded and licked my lips. Yeah, they had to kill her off. Every fuckin’ time. “Well, maybe this one won’t go the same direction.”

I settled back and read over the rest of the email. Damn it. They’ve got Dean on the ‘Kill Jack despite the fact that the kid hasn’t done anything wrong’ track. Of course they do. Have they ever watched the show? Whatever.

It was a couple days later that I was sitting in the makeup chair and a short woman walked up the steps and stopped in her tracks. She's not the first guest to freeze when they see me the first time but she was definitely the cutest doing it. I didn’t call attention to her 'deer in the headlights' thing as she stood in the doorway, clearly debating leaving until she looked at her phone screen and determined that she had to stay.

She had to get herself comfortable with me somehow. As fun as it can be to tease the new girl, professionalism is the best way forward for most of these situations. I determined to tease her when she got a little more comfortable.

She sat down in the stylist’s chair and looked down at her phone, obviously trying to distract herself with something more than Jennifer doing her hair. It was pretty adorable. She was pretty adorable. But...I had to start the task of getting her okay.

“You must be our new witch,” I said. She made a little squeaky noise and I could see her eyes glaze over a little in the mirror. “I’m Jensen.” Normally, I would have offered my hand but we weren’t in the position for that.

“I know that,” she whispered, making me chuckle as she cleared her throat and turned a little to look at me as much as she could. “I’m Y/n. Big fan.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. Uh, I used to watch Days with my mom, but I think I became a real fan with Smart Alec on Dark Angel,” she said and I smiled. Eric Brady and Alec McDowell. Two amazing characters. I really liked Alec. Jessica could’ve been less of a prima donna but I guess she could’ve been worse, too.

“That feels like a million years ago. That show was badass, though,” I mused. “Fox shoulda kept it longer.”

“Agreed,” she said, smiling all shy. She looked so fucking nervous, so I had to move the conversation along.

“So...fan of mine...have you seen much of this show or are we gonna have to give you context for scenes?” I teased. She seemed to relax a little, slumping in her chair.

“Might’ve been a fan of you longer, but I love the show. Seen almost every episode.”

Better than me. I haven’t seen half of ‘em. “Almost every episode? What kinda fan are you?”

“Do not question my nerd cred, sir,” she sassed me. “I’m a fan, big time. I even went to a Creation Con late last year, just to see you guys up close.”

I laughed a little at that. The cons are great, but I really don’t think we’re worth all that money just to see us in person. “Yeah? Gold?” I had to figure out how devoted a fan she actually was. It would determine my interaction moving forward.

“Silver. I was working retail at the time,” she responded, shaking her head a little. “Couldn’t reconcile dropping a thousand dollars on a vacation.”

I was happy to hear that she kept her crazy to reasonable levels. “Oh, so we met in the autograph line.”

“Yep,” she said, popping that ‘p’ like vocal directors hate so much and looking away from me in the mirror.

There was obviously a story there, so I pressed her. “What’d I sign for you?”

“A hat. A white hat...with a devil’s trap in the middle and SW and DW on opposite sides.”

Crazy as it is, I remembered the hat, but the conventions all blur together so I couldn’t tell where I met her. “Which con was this?” I asked.

“Atlanta,” she answered quickly.

A one-off con. That helped, because I only had one night of memories to sift through. White hat, shaking young woman who could barely speak to me and definitely couldn’t look me in the eyes. I remember my handler getting up after she walked away, came back a minute later to say that Y/n had almost passed out as soon as she got outside the curtain. “Oh, yeah, I remember. I tried to sign Jared’s side but you wouldn’t let me.”

Y/n turned to look at me, obviously shocked with those pretty eyes all wide. “You were doing it on purpose? I thought you were just tired and not paying attention.”

“Nah, I was exhausted in Atlanta, but you looked mortified. I was trying to make you laugh.” Obviously failed on that. I chuckled again as Jennifer started curling her hair. “You seem a lot more put together now.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes just a bit. “I’m mortified now too, but I saw you and Jared were gonna be on Lot today so I took an Ativan before I got in the car this morning.” Always nice when people are honest and open about their anxiety problems.

“Well, that’s good. Take a double dose tomorrow,” I teased as Trisha pulled the makeup drop cloth and I stood, looking down at her as panic crossed her face.

“What? Why?” she squeaked.

I could tell she hadn’t been given the pages for our scene the next day. I couldn’t resist a little torture. I just laughed as I left the trailer. “You’ll see when you get tomorrow’s pages.” I met Jared on the Bunker set and he patted my shoulder as we walked up into the library. “First meeting with the new girl went well. She seems a little out of her element but nice overall.”

“Oh, uh, Y/n?”

“Yeah, she is a fan, actually. We met her at the Atlanta convention. She had that Devil’s Trap hat.” Jared shook his head. He didn’t remember her. “She’s the one that tripped or whatever right after I signed her hat.”

“Oh, the one that fuckin’ fainted?”

“Yeah, I think so. She’s still uncomfortable so we’ll have to warm her up.”

“‘Warm her up’, huh?” Jared raised his eyebrows suggestively and I laughed.

“Not like that, you dummy.”

Of course, Y/n was cute, but messing around with the guest stars was a bit of a no-no, and messing with fans was a big no-no. Especially considering that there’s almost nothing to keep a fan from talking...and the open marriage thing needed to stay quiet.

But I was curious about her. Can’t lie about that. So, I asked around. I went to a few other crew members before I went to Andrew Dabb.

“You remember that casting call we did toward the end of eleven? We got a few of the British Men of Letters off of it?” He leaned back in his chair and looked up at me. “We opened it up for a few folks without representation for a couple weeks. CW didn’t advertise it but we did a post on a few acting sites and there was a bit of circulation once the fandom got a hold of it. She sent a video in. She wasn’t right for the Brits, not posh enough, but her accents were good and she was a pretty great actress, so...”

“So, she isn’t an actor?”

“She’s been doing pretty well for the fact that she hasn’t acted in anything before.”

I blinked at him a few times. “Wow. So, she’s completely green?”

“Technically, yeah. But the second unit directors say she’s doing good.”

“Cool. Thanks.” I started to leave but stopped at the door. “So, what’s the track on her character? She stickin’ around?”

“She’s on for five episodes.”

“Is she going to bite it after those episodes?” I pushed.

“We’re not exactly-”

“Is she a love interest? Is she gonna disappear without a trace? Will she at least get an actual storyline?”

Andrew rolled his eyes at me and shifted in his chair. “I don’t know if she’s going to be a love interest. The writers’ room is in disagreement about that. She’d be a good match for Dean, but we’re not sure how the viewers would react. They never really like it when Dean and Sam have women in their lives.”

“So, you don’t even know. Okay.” I was not impressed with that answer so I left him in his office.

I went looking for her at lunchtime, a little after 1. She was sitting at a table in the Craft Services tent, in the corner by herself, looking down at a paper coffee cup. She was really good at making herself small and seemingly insignificant...but it had the opposite effect on me. It made me want to talk to her more. I grabbed a coffee for myself and a caramel macchiato for Jared from the coffee cart.

“So, I asked Dabb where we got you from and he said it was an open cast. You sent a video in but you’ve never done anything else. You don’t even have an agent.” I walked up and sat in front of her on the other side of the table. She looked up and her eyes went all wide. “So you just decided to become an actor in your twenties?” I guessed her age.

She bit her bottom lip for a minute before leaning forward. “No. I decided to become an actor in high school,” she disputed. She looked a bit disappointed as she continued. “I then graduated from high school and decided that it was a stupid dream and I’d never make any headway so I gave up on it and got a real job.”

She did say that she was working retail. “Retail. So where are you from, Y/n?” I took a drink of my coffee as she leaned back.

“Northwest Florida. Little town about fifteen miles from the state line.”

I smiled, remembering a Spring Break with Christian back in the 90s. “North Florida. I spent a couple Spring Breaks at PCB when I was...younger and unmarried.”

She gave a little laugh. “Panama City is about an hour and a half away from home.”

I took another drink, trying to think of something to keep the conversation going. “So you acted in high school, huh?” I asked as I saw Jared walk into the tent behind her.

“Yeah. School plays, Thespians, Forensics competitions, that kinda thing.” I heard about that competition shit from Jared. ‘Competition’ is the key word on that. Apparently, it’s harder than screen acting.

“You did Forensics?” Jared asked, his whole face lighting up. “I won Nationals with my friend Chris in high school.” He came over and folded himself backward into a chair. I handed him his coffee and he nodded at me.

“I did monos. Got second in State, but didn’t make Nationals.” She sounded a little disappointed, but shit, second in State is pretty damn good.

“I did monos, duos, and extemp, but I only placed in Duo. Jared,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand.

She looked a bit more comfortable with Jared and that made me feel a little bit jealous. I’m nice. I didn’t understand why she was awkward with me. “Y/n. It’s amazing to meet you.”

“Oh, he gets an ‘amazing to meet you’? I didn’t even get a handshake.” I covered the jealousy with a teasing comment.

Jared teased back before she could. “Well maybe I’m just more approachable, dude.”

“You? Giant muscley gym-bro?” I hit back.

“Honestly, I’m five-three so you’re both giants to me,” she joked with a laugh.

“So, Y/n, how long did they sign you for?” Jared asked.

“Five episodes to start. They said they’ll give me more or not depending on fan response. They’ll probably hate me, though, so I’ll be gone by midseason Hellatus.” ‘Hellatus’ made me smile.

“Why would they hate you?” Jared asked. “It’s not like your character is a love interest.” He looked between Y/n and me for a minute. “Wait, Tara’s not a love interest, is she?”

“Andrew said the writers are at an impasse on that one. No, the fans will hate her for one simple reason: jealousy.” I shrugged. “She’s a fan. Some of ‘em probably know her from, like cons and shit. They’re gonna be jealous that she’s here and they aren’t.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ve kinda tried to keep a lid on this from the fan groups. Haven’t told anybody except the family and my best friends about it. Unfortunately, had to stop posting in my Facebook groups when I got the job.” I cringed a bit at the mention of the Facebook groups. Fan groups are a subject best ignored as much as possible.

Jared laughed. “Man, you seem like a reasonable woman so don’t be offended when I say...some of our fans are crazy. You’re better off staying away from the fan sites.”

She smiled. “No, I know how crazy some of us can be. I’ve had some fights online with the tin-hat folks.”

I know I grimaced when she mentioned those folks. Jared did, too. “What is wrong with those people?” Jared shook his head.

She started laughing and it was such a cute, uninhibited sound. “They just...really want you to be gay for each other.”

“Yeah.” She was definitely comfortable and I wanted to take full advantage of it. “So, uh, you get tomorrow’s pages yet?” I asked, smirking. She looked down for a moment before hiding by drinking her coffee. “Yeah, she did. You gonna be okay? You’re not gonna freak out, are you?”

“I will…” She swallowed so loud I could hear it across the table. “...try my best...to not freak out.”

“You look like you’re already freaking out,” Jared said, smiling.

She took a deep breath and let it out as a scoff. “Totally. I am totally freaking out about tomorrow’s scene.”

Jared and I both laughed before I leaned forward a bit. “How about we run lines later?” That wasn’t a new thing for me. I often offer to run lines, especially with the guest stars. But the next words that came out of my mouth were new. “We could grab some dinner, meet up at my trailer, and get the nerves out of the way.”

I was just about to apologize for overstepping any bounds by inviting her to my trailer when she whispered, “That sounds...amazing.” It was this breathy, sexy voice coming out of this sweet woman and I just didn’t feel like I’d overstepped after that, even when she stuttered out, “I mean, it sounds amazing to get the nerves out of the-”

“6 o’clock. Don’t be late,” I said as Jared and I stood to get back to the Bunker.

“What am I gonna do? Go back to my motel to watch one of the ten channels that actually come through clearly?”

“They’ve got you in that Budget Inn, don’t they?” Jared guessed. We have heard a lot of horror stories about that motel.

“Yeah. It’s not so bad. Gotta sleep in the tub to avoid the bed bugs, but it’s cool. Livin’ the dream,” she joked and I laughed as we walked away.

"So...your trailer, Ackles?" Jared asked as we walked away, his eyebrow cocked.

"I'm just tryin' to be friendly, man."

"I know what your 'friendly' looks like and that was not just friendly."

"I just met her!" I argued. "And she's a guest...and a fan! I'm just trying to accommodate her nervousness so we don’t have to do a million takes tomorrow."

"Okay, well...I won't tell Dee, but you should-" I reached out and pushed his shoulder roughly and he laughed as he teetered a bit. "She seems nice, though. Don't scare her away."

I wasn’t planning to scare Y/n away. I wasn’t planning anything except hospitality. I really wasn’t. But she was cute and interesting and she was obviously incredibly attracted to me, so I couldn’t do anything anyway because that might get awkward quick.

No, I was just gonna make a new friend out of the new girl. I’ve done it a bunch of times before. I mean...look at Misha.

She showed up about half an hour early and watched us flub a few takes of this argument between Sam and Dean about Jack and it was fun to watch her expression get more awed with every take. Phil cut us for dinner after a while I jumped down from the soundstage, smiling at the look on her face. “Well, hello, Newbie,” I greeted. “I’m thinkin’ pizza. You good with pizza?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Pizza’s fine.”

I walked away from her, trying to keep everything casual as we went off to my trailer. She ran after me and I slowed down a bit. I was used to Jared and Misha following me around the lot, so I had to consciously slow myself to make it easier for Y/n’s short legs.

“Any dietary restrictions? Lactose, gluten, vegan?” I asked, just to make sure that I wasn’t going to poison her by ordering a pie with pepperoni or something.

“It’s not a pizza without cheese and meats and…” Y/n shook her head and laughed. “I’m a Southern girl. We don’t deal with crazy…gluten-free, meat-free, paleo-vegan...blah, blah, blah,” she finished, gesturing with her hands in the air. It was adorable.

“I thought you were from Florida,” I argued teasingly. “Not really ‘Southern’.”

“And I thought you’d been to North Florida. You should know that Northwest Florida is pretty much UCLA: Upper Corner, Lower Alabama,” she responded and I laughed. Never heard that one before. “That’s not my joke.”

“It was pretty funny anyway. So, you like pepperoni?”

“Look at me. Do I look like I’ve ever turned down free food? Well, except lasagna, but got a...thing with lasagna.”

That threw me so hard I had to stop and turn to her. “What does that mean, you’ve got a thing with lasagna?” I asked.

“There was a bad thing with some really horrible microwave lasagna when I was about seven. Couldn’t eat it for years, now I can only eat it if I make it.”

There was a story there, but I wasn’t ready to push for it. “Wow. Okay. Do not order lasagna. Check.” I opened up the trailer and let her in, grabbing my phone off of the counter as soon as I got inside. I pulled up the speed dial for the closest good pizza place and went into the bathroom to change. It was a mix of teasing her and preparing her that I drove me to change my clothes. Well, change my pants into shorts and take the wardrobe shirts off. I wrapped a towel around my waist and checked in the mirror to make sure the shorts weren’t visible before setting the phone on the sink counter and grabbing the door handle. “Okay, pizza will be here in ‘bout forty, which gives us plenty of time to run lines,” I said, to get her attention before I’d opened the door, so she could get the full effect of my outfit.

Which got me exactly the dumbfounded look from her that I was expecting. She stared. And when I say ‘stared’, I mean it. Her jaw dropped, her eyes went focused and unfocused and roamed over me like crazy. Usually, I start feeling shy when women stare at me like that, but not with her. With Y/n, it felt less like objectification and more like appreciation.

“See, this is why we need to practice,” I said to snap her out of it. I smirked as she cleared her throat and looked off toward the fireplace before closing her eyes.

“Sorry.”

“No, you have to look at me, kid. It’s part of the scene.”

She sighed and looked over at me. “I’m not a kid. I have a kid. I’m a woman.”

“Then act like one,” I challenged.

She licked her lips, cleared her throat again and sat forward. “Please, do keep both hands on the towel, Winchester. One never knows where you hunters have hidden weapons.”

I went into Dean mode like the second nature that it is. “Tara. What do you want?”

“World peace, a condo in Malibu, and a little respect would be nice,” she said, confidence that was definitely not her natural mode leaking out of her. “I mean, I did save your asses in Chicago.”

“Yeah, that’s not how I remember it.”

She laughed out loud and stood. “Of course not. You can’t possibly admit that a witch helped you. I mean, a witch other than Rowena Macleod.”

“Yeah, your mentor, right? Explain again why I’m supposed to trust that you’re a white witch?”

“She wasn’t my mentor. She wasn’t allowed to be. Olivette wouldn’t let me. Shit! ‘Olivette wouldn’t let her’.” Her face fell as she pulled out her pages, obviously upset that she’d blown a single word in her line. “‘Olivette wouldn’t let her. We had to train in secret, but that doesn’t mean I carry her ideals’,” she read frantically.

I smiled as soothingly as possible. “Calm down. It’s a lot better to fuck up here with me than out there on camera. Don’t wanna end up on the gag reel, do you?” She shook her head. “All right. From the top.”

We made it through the scene completely on the second try and she said her lines like she was completely immersed in Tara’s character. It shocked me a bit, actually. No wonder Casting picked her out of a pile of video submissions. She hit those facial expressions and the overwhelming sense of ‘trying to do right without the right tools’ better than I could have imagined. There was so much pain in her eyes when she said, “Don’t trust me. Don’t like me. I don’t care” and it wasn’t even in the script to be anything but pissy.

She asked how well she’d done and I smiled as I pulled the towel off and tossed it across the room to land on the counter. She looked relieved to see my golf shorts. “You did great. You think you’ll be able to stay focused in front of the cameras?”

“Well, if I can manage to not drool all over myself staring at you when it’s just the two of us, I think I can keep my shit together in front of Phil and everyone else.”

I smiled as she carried some of her Tara energy over into her real life. “Ah, so you’re one of those fans,” I teased.

She scoffed loudly. “Oh, come on. You know how sexy you are.” She scrunched her face up in a grimace and looked away. “That was not what I intended to say.”

“Can’t take it back now,” I said, chuckling.

“Oh, how I wish I could,” she said, shaking her head. “Okay, so have they told you anything about the Chicago episode ‘cause I have no clue what’s going on with that. They haven’t given me anything on that.”

They do that sometimes, where they’ll forget to tell folks what’s going on in the episodes before. It’s part of shooting out of order, but it usually doesn’t affect the guests too much...and they almost always told me and Jared in advance. “Right, I’ve got a first draft script round here somewhere.” I went looking around the counter near the kitchenette to find the script and handed it to her. I’d already read it but I looked over her shoulder as she went through it herself.

“Oh, she...is very flirty, isn’t she?” she said when she got to the part where Tara said ‘If we were doing what I wanted, we’d be in bed not a warehouse’. She seemed a bit uncomfortable about it so I smiled and knocked my knee into hers.

“You can handle that, right?”

“Of course I can,” she defended.

“Good,” I said, getting up to retrieve the pizza from the PA knocking at my door. As we ate slices of floppy pepperoni pizza, she pointed out a line where Dean tells Sam ‘Tara was kinda hot in a Khloe Kardashian circa 2007 kinda way’. “Which means…?”

“That’s when she was the ‘fat’ Kardashian,” Y/n explained, looking down at herself a bit self-consciously. “She was still hot, I guess…’cause she knows how to make herself look good with the clothes and makeup and all the stuff money makes easy, but she was not considered the prettiest one.”

It seemed like a subject that made her sad, and I guess I could see that Y/n was what Hollywood considered ‘fat’, but I thought she was hot...and I didn’t like her feeling bad about herself. “Oh, so a chick likes to eat, so she’s not hot? Never understand that.”

“Me either,” she said, smiling as she took a big bite of her pizza.

I made her feel a bit better and that was exactly what I needed at that moment.

The Kitchen Sink Tags- @flamencodiva @sacriceria @lyarr24 @440mxs-wife @nancymcl @mariekoukie6661 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @cosicas-cuquis @queenoftheunderdark @myheartbelongsintz @squirrelnotsam @akshi8278 @muhahaha303 @agirlwithdemonblood @this-is-me19 @mrswhozeewhatsis

#cassie writes stuff #To Have It All series #spn rpf #jensen x reader #open relationship

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lunathebee · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Marc Spector x florist!fem!reader (with hints of Steven Grant x florist!fem!reader)

Warning: fluff (no I mean, me trying to write fluff for the first time), Steven loves his burrito, Layla doesn't exist just for the sake of this story

A/n: THIS IS PART 1, I repeat PART 1 😭😭😭 Istg I messed up some stuff and I have no choice but to write a bit more and call it a day, I am terribly sorry, part 2 will be post soon!

Summary: For the first time ever, Steven might be better at talking to a girl than Marc, but that doesn't mean Marc just gonna stand and watch him does so.

Steven is chewing down on a vegan burrito, talking to Gus about how his day at the museum went when suddenly Marc speaks up. "Steven, since when do you like flowers so much?"

It was a totally random and offset question for Steven, but not for Marc though, he is a man who knows what he wants and how to get it in the most subtle way.

"Oh whut? You mean those books? They're not mine, Y/n was kind enough to let me borrow it, nice to learn something besides just alien and Egyptian mythology init?" Steven smiles when mentioning your name, taking another big bite from the burrito while Marc is still starting at the big pile of books about floriography.

"And... who is Y/n?" Marc asked while trying his best to be clueless, of course he knows Y/n; she owns a small flower shop on the road where Steven takes the bus to work every day, always looking so perfect and flawless at 7 a.m.

Sometimes Marc feels a teeny tiny bit guilty about how he takes over the body whenever the bus gets near to Y/n's flower shop, and after a few seconds of staring, hoping to see you, he gave the body back to Steven, leaving the British man confused like a deer in front of a headlight.

"Oh Y/n is this absolutely wonderful florist that I met when I tried to find some flowers for my first date that... didn't go quite as well as you remember..." To be honest, Steven just wants to eat his burrito in peace and finish it quickly, but if the topic is about Y/n and not Khonsu then he would be glad to join in.

"Ah well then, I was wondering if you could introduce --- " Marc's voice starts to fade out because Steven is too into the burrito.

But wait, why is he eating this burrito so fast in the first place? Steven thinks to himself for a moment, and the memory of Donna talking to him floods into his mind, making him yell out. "OH BLOODY HELL, DONNA PUT ME ON INVENTORY TONIGHT, I gotta go now talktoyoulaterMarc!!" Steven bolted out the door, clutching his work bag, leaving Marc *behind* disappointed; perhaps he could continue this conversation with Steven over the weekend?

===☾︎ ☾︎ ☾︎===

"No way... Marc, are you serious? You have a crush on Y/n?!" Steven can't believe what Marc has told him, this is even more shocking than the discovery of the tomb of Tutankhamun.

"That is a childish way to say how a man is interested in a woman Steven, and I swear if you laugh at me-"

"No no no, why would I? Wow, good for you mate. I thought you would stick to fighting forever! With that silly old birb Khonsu, am I right Gus? " Steven exclaimed while sprinkling some fish food into the tank and missed how annoyed Marc looked.

'Tch, gimme a break' Marc thinks to himself while thinking about what Steven has said. Did he really spend that much time being an avatar? To the point where he gets lovestruck and doesn't even know how to talk to a girl?

"The main point is are you gonna introduce me to her or not?"

Steven feels strange after hearing Marc say that, what now? A guy who is not afraid of fighting and blood is scared of this sweet florist girl? "Why don't you just... introduce YOURSELF to her? Besides, I wouldn't know how to explain to her that you and I are basically the same, but at the same time we are not, bit odd init?"

Steven has a point though, it would be harder and more confusing if he told you about Marc. It seems like the only option left is for Marc to say hi to you himself (even if he wants to or not). God, how Marc wishes Monday would just come soon so he can meet you.

#marvel moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight fluff #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #steven grant x y/n #steven grant #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #moonkight #fluff #oscar isaac

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eletricheart · 1 year

Text

Chaotic Peace

(Donna Beneviento x Reader)

*image creds to owner

Word count: 455

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It was a peaceful day for Donna, she was working on some dolls when noticed the complete silence, which was odd considering the Dimitrescu girls were visiting. There was no high pitched laughing followed by you yelling and cursing Angie, nor the noise of multiples flies and laughter.

Donna stood up once two full minutes had gone by with nothing crashing. At first she considered you all died, but that would've been loud since you wouldn't go down without a fight.

The dollmaker took the elevator to the first floor with fidgeting hands, trying to not get too caught up in her own head. She was heading for the second floor when heard whispers coming from the kitchen. Moving silently she stood at the door watching you, Angie, Cass, Dani and Bella arguing over a broken oven.

You only noticed Donna when she released her breath in relief. Making everyone turn around like deers in highlight.

The dollmaker only pointed at the destruction before loud arguing broke free. The lady waited for it to cease so that her voice could be heard. "So, who did it? I'm not mad, I just want to know"

Bella was the first to speak. "It was me, I did it."

Donna shook her head. "I know you didn't do it. Cass?"

Cassandra was the second. "I don't wanna say it but Daniela has been really quiet."

Daniela turned with a gasp. "Oh really?!"

Bella tried to take the blame again but Donna didn't accept it. The dollmaker looked at you with a questioning look.

In which you took with surprise. "Don't look at me, look at Angie."

The doll tried to jump on you but Daniela held her. "I didn't break it you lying piece of sh-"

You cut her off before an hour of cursing. "How did you even know it was broken?!"

The doll gasps in frustration. "Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken."

Cassandra, not backing down, talked again. "Daniela was the last one seen close to it, she clearly did it!"

Dani looked as furious as ever, with only Bella separating both sisters. "I don't even do that crap, everyone knows I can't cook."

Hell broke loose again in the kitchen with Donna still at the door holding her head in her hands.

The oven was broken a few days ago when Donna was trying to bake but couldn't get the timing right, so she called her dolls to destroy it. The dollmaker expected that in a few minutes, Angie would go after you with a knife, Cassandra and Daniela would set the room on fire and Bella would call her mother and ask her to "save her from these savages".

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masterlist

#resident evil village #re8 #non canon #resident evil #donna beneviento #fanfic #re8 incorrect quotes #lady beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #cassandra dimitrescu #bella dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady angie #angie re8

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lonelinessinthemirrordimension · 2 years

Text

The One Thing I Need

Stephen Strange • They/Them Pronouns • Sorcerer!Reader • SFW/ANGST • TW: Nightmares

Requested by: @accioptterv

“Come on Stephen!”

“I’m coming I’m coming…slow down..!” The young Stephen cries out following his sister onto the frozen lake.

“Woah!” Donna yelps slipping on the ice and falling onto her knees making Stephen start to shake like a baby deer. “I’m okay!”

“G-Get up slowly okay?”

“Okay worrywart” The laughter from his sister echoed throughout the lake as she rises to her feet.

Stephen suddenly felt a pit in his stomach as he watches cracks form underneath him. “O-Oh no. DONNA!” He cries out watching her whip her head toward him giving him that smile of hers.

Yet the cracks from his feet shot like lightening across the lake heading directly toward Donna. Making Stephen start to skate as fast as he could over to her.

But the smile on her face faded in slow motion along with her body falling through the cracks.

“D-Donna…” Strange whines in his sleep rolling over a bit causing his partner to stir awake.

“Stephen?” They groan a bit with tiredness slowly rising resting on their elbows to look at his stirring figure.

Stephen cries reaching the hole in the lake and reaching in trying not to over panic.

“Donna!”

Nothing of course. Stephen dives his top half into the hole and wasn’t met with water. Simply darkness.

“Donna?”

“why Stephen…”

“Donna!” He yells trying to figure out where the voice is. “Donna come here! Let me get you out of here!”

Soft hands expose themselves out of the darkness reaching for Stephen’s face and when he reached. The hands harshly grab him and a face of a drowned girl shines through.

“WHY DID YOU LET ME DIE”

“I didn’t mean to…D-Donna I didn’t mean to” Strange continues his sleep talk as Y/N fully brought themselves to his side pulling him to lay on his back.

“Stephen, wake up” They were quiet at first but he was starting to sob in his sleep instead of little tears rolling down his cheeks. “Stephen, love…”

“YOURE SUPPOSED TO SAVE LIVES! NOT TAKE THEM!” Donna in the state the paramedics and police found her in screamed in Stephen’s face pulling him into the darkness as they started to descend. “You did this to me…”

“Donna I didn’t…I-I didn’t…” He cries as he couldn’t calculate the lake would’ve been weak in that time of the year. He didn’t think the ice would crack under the pressure.

Then suddenly he appeared at the edge of the lake watching Donna skate through with that smile of hers.

“Come on Stephen!”

“N-No…”

“Woah!” And she slipped.

Stephen watched everything repeat itself.

Over and over again.

He started to shake in his sleep and it wasn’t by Y/N trying to shake him awake. This nightmare was getting to him and they couldn’t wake him. It was starting to scare them as they quickly got out of their bed whistling for Cloak.

The second they arrived, Y/N gestures for them to help wake up Strange. Cloak gave a few flaps.

“What do you mean last time you tried it didn’t work?”

More flapping.

“CLOAK JUST DO IT AND I PROMISE HE DOESN’T TURN YOU INTO A POCKET SQUARE AGAIN” Y/N yells.

“Donna…I-I’m sorry” Stephen cries holding his dead sister in his arms. “Im so sorry…” he whines.

Then. Finally!

Strange gasps awake to Cloak smacking him for the fourth time. Cloak and Y/N towering over him as he tried to collect himself on what just happened. The tears were taken care of by Y/N gently wiping them away as he suddenly took a hold of their wrist.

“I’m sorry…I…shouldn’t have woken you”

“No, Stephen. No…it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize” Y/N reassures feeling cloak wrap around their shoulders when they brought themselves back into the bed up against the headrest as Strange pushes himself to sit up and look at them for permission to lean back into them. Which Y/N could never turn down.

They rest their cheek against the top of his head once he got comfortable against their chest. He liked that they didn’t pry for him to tell what was happening in his mind…he was enjoying their warmth and the gentle scratches against his scalp they were doing.

“Y/N…”

“Hm?”

“Please don’t ever leave me…” He started to sob once more feeling them tighten their embrace around him as Cloak joined in with the comfort. “I can’t lose you, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere, love. I’m never leaving” Y/N reassures gently grazing their fingers up and down his arm.

“You’ve always been the one thing I needed…and I’m not about to lose you any time soon..” Strange went on as he full brought himself to lay on Y/N, feeling their arms and legs wrap around him protectively.

I’m right here Stephen

#lonelinessinthemirrordimension #doctor strange #stephen strange #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #sorry it’s so short

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minefield-of-a-ninja · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5

Summary (request from @thesassywallflower for @spnfanficpond Secret Santa): Donna is horrified to learn that the boys have never had a proper Christmas, so she invites them to her house for the holiday.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Warnings/tags: explicit (eventually), fluff (? Idk), angst (? light), domestic (can’t get much more domestic)

Chapter WC: 2000

Author’s notes: There will be multiple chapters to this -- at least three, and they will all be written in 3rd person POV, shifting perspective in each section.

Many thanks and love to my dear friend and the very best beta ever @brrose-apothecary. Text divider by @talesmaniac89.

________________________________________________________________

“That’s it,” Donna exclaims, after wiping down her machete and carefully replacing it in its secure case in the bed of her truck. “You two’re comin’ home with me.”

She’s hyper-aware that the Winchesters didn’t have the most conventional upbringing, but, dangit, how many more times will they break her heart with stories about never going to a Christmas party or experiencing the joy of opening gifts on Christmas morning?

“C- coming home with you?” Dean wonders aloud as if he’s testing the words in his mouth. As if she uttered the invitation in Old Norse.

“Yes, Dean. To Stillwater.” Donna turns to face the brothers who both eerily resemble that deer she missed by a hair’s breadth on Highway 95 last week. “Jody and the girls’ll be there, and all’s you need’re the clothes on your backs. We can stop at the dollar store down the street for you two to pick up a couple white elephant gifts.”

“Dollar store?” Dean asks, looking thoroughly bereft of understanding.

“Dean, stop repeating everything that comes out of my mouth. And close yours while you’re at it; you look like a drowning guppy.”

Donna rounds the side of her pickup to stride toward the driver’s side door. The brothers shuffle after her like a couple of 10-year-olds who’d rather be playing Super Mario than endure whatever perceived Hell she’s invited them to.

“Donna...” Sam lets his words hang in the air while both brothers huff and puff condensation into the frigid night air and fidget after her. “We’ve never been to a Christmas party or anything like that.”

“That’s why you’re coming to mine. No excuses.” She spins on her heel and stares them down as they exchange looks and unspoken words.

Dean’s the one who breaks first. He swings his narrowed gaze back to her.

“Will there be mistletoe?” he asks pointedly.

Donna tries not to think about Dean and mistletoe at the same time. Not that she’s never imagined kissing him, but now is not the time.

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Of course! What kinda Christmas party would it be without mistletoe?”

Dean grins before slapping his brother on the back. “Well, Sammy, looks like we’re gonna have Christmas after all. Ya know, one without a Wood Nymph.”

“Huh?” Donna furrows her brow in question.

Sam shakes his head. “Never mind, long story,” he mutters. “I guess we’ll follow you?”

Donna claps her hands together as she nods, bouncing on her toes. “You betcha!”

“Can’t believe we almost passed this up,” Dean mutters to Sam as they unpack their bags, making a load of laundry. They each showered in Donna’s guest bathroom and she gave them some old clean sweatpants and t-shirts of her dad’s to wear for the night.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Sam agrees quietly, tossing his last pair of underwear to the floor. He’s pleased that Dean sees the value here in Donna’s home.

Ever since they defeated Chuck, Sam has tried a dozen different ways to get Dean out of the bunker and into a real house and real jobs. Dean seems frozen in time, though, like he can’t see that they can do just about anything they want now. They’re regular hunters — no angels or demons to battle (Jack and Rowena have seen to that). In fact, most of the monster world has quieted and stays in their own lanes.

“Imagine having this on the regular.” Sam tests the waters. “A washer and dryer from this century?” he chuckles, scooping up the dirty clothes and shaking his damp hair out of his face.

“Yeah, well, I doubt Donna wants a couple salty old hunters camped out in her guest room for the rest of her life.” Dean turns down the covers of his borrowed bed and inspects the pillow. “‘Sides, I like havin’ my own room.”

Sam watches Dean smooth his hands over the bedding, wondering...

He knows how Dean feels about Donna, even though his brother’s never put those feelings into words. Sam’s seen the way Dean looks at her, the way he touches her like she’s made of glass, and the tone of his voice when he says her name. Dean adores Donna, but even more than that, he wants her.

“What if...” Sam starts then pauses, shifting his weight. When Dean turns to face him with a questioning brow and wistful smile, he forges ahead. “What if you could share it with someone like Donna?”

Dean almost rolls his eyes as he slowly straightens his stance. His soft smile twists as he meets his brother’s gaze. Sam worries that he’s pushed Dean too far.

“And now we’re back to Donna deservin’ a lot better than...” Dean shakes his head and motions between himself and his duffle bag.

“Heya,” the woman in question sing-songs as she pokes her head around the door. “How ya doin’ in here? Need anything?”

Dean’s edge immediately smooths at the sight of the sheriff.

“Hey,” he answers with a quick, practiced grin. “We’re good. Better than. Just, uhh...” He reaches for the bundle in Sam’s arms. “Gonna throw this stuff in your washer if that’s okay?”

Sam notices the tiniest flush in Dean’s cheeks, and the sight squeezes his heart in his rib cage. Dean doesn’t think he deserves a life like this.

“Yep,” Donna replies, a bright smile gracing her freshly scrubbed and freckle-dusted face. “Right down the hall.”

“Alrighty then. Lead the way,” Dean says, following Donna to her laundry room.

Sam heaves a sigh before wandering to the small bookshelf in the corner for something to read.

Dean has nightmares almost every time he closes his eyes. Last night, he had a different kind of dream.

Donna was there, her soft blonde waves were piled on top of her head. Her fingers were floured and her big flannel shirt was dusted just the same. She laughed at his jokes and hummed through her smile when he wrapped his arms around her from behind. She smelled like butter and vanilla.

When he wakes, Sam’s already up and out of the room. A low light sneaks through the curtains, and Dean smells coffee. He rolls out of bed, runs his fingers through his hair, and makes his way to the bathroom across the hall.

“Dean, hey.”

Dean cocks his head and squints because it’s too damn early for pleasantries. It’s Kaia, though, and Dean owes that girl a lot of pleasant.

“Hey, kid. When’d you get in?” He turns toward her and she steps into his arms for a hug.

“‘Bout an hour ago,” she replies. “Claire’s in the kitchen.”

“‘Kay,” Dean answers pulling out of the hug with a lopsided smile. “Be there in a minute.”

Kaia nods and shuffles past him. “There’s coffee and french toast.”

“Nice,” Dean grunts, pushing through the bathroom door and switching the light on. When he sees his reflection, he groans. “Christ.”

His eyes are puffy and his hair’s sticking out in nine different directions. He shakes his head and sighs before taking care of business. Dean definitely puts the seat back down, washes his hands, and splashes his face and hair with water.

Before heading to the kitchen, he makes his bed and changes into his own clothes. As he shrugs into his flannel, he realizes it’s the one from his dream. The one Donna was wearing — his shirt and nothing else.

He could feel every dip and curve in his hands. She was so warm and soft. Dean’s thought about a hundred different ways to make her say his name the way she did in his dream. He can still hear her breathy voice in his head as he walks the length of the hallway toward the bright kitchen.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Donna greets him first, and his skin flushes with heat.

Before he can focus too much on it, Claire sacks him without a word.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmurs, holding her close. He isn’t exactly the picture of emotional growth, but since Cas… well, he’s trying to be more present.

Dean closes his eyes and buries his nose in her messy hair. She’s been smoking, and probably drinking by the looks of it. “Takin’ care of yourself?” He pulls back, gripping her shoulders and looking her in the eyes.

Her smile is crooked, and her blue eyes are shot red and rimmed with black, but she’s still the strong little girl from Illinois whose daddy loved God enough to leave her.

Claire shrugs. “More’r less.”

Dean huffs a wry laugh, squeezing her shoulders before releasing her. “Sounds about right.”

“Heeeyyy.” Jody and Alex round the island to greet him with hugs and Patience isn’t far behind.

“Coffee?” Jody asks.

“Absolutely. I also heard there was french toast. Or did I miss it?” He turns to find Donna extending a plate heaped with carbs, and a steaming cup of joe. “Awesome.”

He accepts the proffered items from Donna with a hearty thanks.

Jody and the girls retreat to the dining room where Sam sits, doing a crossword puzzle. He looks up and Dean nods a good morning to him before sliding onto a stool at the island.

“So, uhh, dollar store, huh?” He digs into his breakfast, trying not to ogle Donna’s ass in her cute little red and white snowflake leggings. The phrase ‘thick thighs save lives’ will be stuck in his head for the rest of his stay here and he isn’t mad about it.

Donna nods as she turns to face him with her own cup of coffee. “And if I give you a list, can you pick up some wine?”

Dean bobs his head as he chews and his eyes roll back. “Oh, yeah... Yes, anything. Holy shit, this is good.” He’s momentarily distracted from objectifying his hostess by the un-fucking-believable french toast.

Donna chuckles, jutting a hip against the island. “Family recipe. Just like the smorgasbord for tonight.” She sips her coffee and watches him devour the rest of the meal in silence but for Dean’s moans and groans of satisfaction.

How many times has Donna thought about this? About Dean Winchester sitting at her kitchen island eating a breakfast and coffee that she made? About him enjoying it?

Experts say that good food and good sex share neural pathways. That a person’s reaction to good food is similar to their reactions to good sex. That theory takes on a whole new level of wow when applied to Dean.

Dean drains his mug and wipes his mouth.

“More... anything?” Donna asks innocently -- or so she thinks.

Until Dean’s gaze flicks to hers for a hot minute. She could write his hesitation off as morning brain, but then he drops his gaze to her mouth. He licks his bottom lip into his mouth then slowly drags it through his teeth.

Donna’s breath catches in her chest and her insides flip.

“Hey, so, we should hit that dollar store, and I think Donna wants us to grab a few bottles of wine, right?”

Sam realizes a beat too late that he’s walked in on something; Dean looks ready to attack and Donna’s cheeks are fuchsia. The younger Winchester’s gaze bounces around the tension between Dean and Donna before he clears his throat.

Dean blinks a couple of times and shakes his head. “Yeah... yeah, uhh...” He draws a deep breath and looks back up at Donna. “Got that list?”

Donna gnaws at the corner of her anxious grin. “Oh, yeah. I’ll text it to ya.”

Dean nods and pushes out of his barstool. The brothers find their boots and coats in the front closet. As they walk out the door, Donna calls from the kitchen.

“Oh, and Dean? When you get back, you need to help me find that mistletoe.”

The screen door slams shut behind them, and Sam laughs.

Chapter Two

Please don’t leave without telling me what you think!

#dean winchester fic #dean x donna #donna hanscum fic

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