Psst! I love your hellboy x reader work! Could you write something with him being protective of y/n? Like she gets grabbed on a mission and he sees red (pun unintended lmao) I just get the vibe that y/n would be the only thing to really make him drop his composure and go feral and that makes my lil heart go !!!!
This one went through a whole other story, but I didn't like it so I scrapped that part and tried again. Also bc Google docs is a pain in my ass rn
He should've known better than to take you underground. But you were practically begging him to come with. It's incredibly hard to say no to you.
The troll market is bustling, as usual. You've been there before, so you're used to the creatures that pass you by. Of course, they pay no attention to you, as you're just another hooded figure.
While hellboy agreed to take you to the market, he did order you to stay hidden. Not wanting you in any danger just because you're a human in the troll market. Definitely not where you belong.
Hellboy's tail wraps around your gloved wrist, gently pulling you through the crowd. But your eyes still can't stay still as you look at every new thing that's for sale.
You spot a mermaid in a small aquarium. Waving people by, luring many in with her beauty and wares for sale. You almost fall for it until Hellboys gives you a sharp tug. You quickly look away and catch up next to him. His arm around your shoulder as he whispers to you.
"Keep up, pipsqueak. Last thing I want is you to be on the market here." He whispers to you, you blush and laugh quietly. He pinches your shoulder,
"Not a joke, you'd go for a high price to some of these folks." He whispers as he glares off a few curious fairies.
"I'll be fine, I've got you." You whisper and rub his hand. He nods and you both continue. You can't even remember what you both came to the market for.
It doesn't matter anyways, as you still follow him. It doesn't take you too long to be spotted by a curious creature. A small thing that looks up and notices you're nothing like the crowd.
"Hello." You whisper to the smaller being, thinking it's a child. You lean closer to the creature with a smile. Only for the thing to suddenly jump up behind you and pull your hood down. Standing on your shoulders, it pulls your ears and screeches. Telling all that a human is here. A human!
Hellboy turns from the stand he was meandering at and curses to himself. You yell in pain as the tiny creature pulls your ears and cheeks,
"Got a precious human here! Go for a pretty penny to the highest bidder!" He yells, and your hands struggle to pull him off of you.
"Hellboy!" You call out in a desperate voice, and Hellboy was already seconds away. Ripping the pipsqueak off of you, he throws the small man into the brick wall.
"Back off! She's mine!" Hellboy yells out, the tiny man growls and scampers off. Only for a bigger troll to show up. It is obviously relative to the smaller man.
"That thing yours?" The troll points to you. Hellboy quickly pushes you behind him.
"She's not for sale, so piss off." Hellboy growls, his hand hovering over his revolver. The trolls glares at Hellboy and pushes his foot in the ground. Hellboy sneers and does the same. You're eyes are wide, they're like two bulls ready to charge.
The troll makes the first move and Hellboy was quick to use his tail to trip the lug, making him fall back. Hellboy quickly jumps on the man's chest and starts to punch his large face in.
"You need to learn!" He yells with the first punch,
"To not touch!" He points to your smaller form and hits the troll again. His punch knocks a few teeth out.
"What's not yours!" He almost roars out as the troll falls the brink of unconsciousness.
"Hellboy!" You yelled out his name. Having never seen him in such an angry state before, you wanted it to stop before he killed the troll. He looks back at you and pants. Catching his breathe, he stands on the trolls chest. Looking over the crowd. He spits on the ground. And quickly he walks over to you, pulling you close to his chest. He's snarling at the others.
"She ain't for sale! She's mine!" He says, just to make sure everyone understands him. His hand hovering over the gun. The large crowd understood quickly.
The crowd parts as Hellboy pulls you through it, and out of the market.
"Knew taking you there was a bad idea. Now I'm the bad guy" he mumbles as you both go through the portal and into the alley. He looks down at you.
"You okay?" His smaller hand rubs your cheek and you lean into it.
"I'm sorry, hellboy...I didn't mean to..i- I've never seen you so upset. " You mumble and hold his hand close to your face.
"They tried to hurt you." He says and you nod.
"I know...thank you..for saving me." You kiss his bruised knuckles. He brushes them against your cheek again.
Haley and Emily pre-farmer that I never finished RIP
Haley will never admit it. But she's jealous of her sister. Not to the point of violence. Never. Just a tantrum or two when she was a kid, and now she just mocks Emily to try to feel something. It never works.
Emily is everything Haley isn't. She always has been, ever since diapers.
She remembers the day that Emily moved out. Said she was hiking across the Ferngill Republic. The letters she'd send back home would only feed into Haley's envy.
The postcards were all quickly pinned to her corkboard. Albeit a little crumbled, but still she would read them over and over. Wishing she was there.
Castle village, wish you were here.
The softest velvet comes from Castle village, though they refuse to tell me how they source it. Oh how badly I want to make something with it!
Grampleton, wish you were here.
It's gorgeous here, the Woods are beautiful. I miss you, P.S. don't tell mom and dad I've dyed my hair. I want it to be a surprise.
Zuzu city, wish you were here.
I've managed to thumb my way to the big city, though it's not my last stop. I'll be here longer than the others. I've taken up bartending, and I'm staying with a friend. Her name is Sandy, I can't wait for you to meet her.
Haley never packed a bag so fast in her life, a few well planned outfits. Skin care and hair care tucked securely In a travel bag. Same thing for her Polaroid Camera she got for her birthday. She hasn't seen her sister in months. Nor has she been in Zuzu city. Ever actually. She remembers passing through it when she was a kid, staring at the bright lights as her family's car drove through the bustling night city. She begged them to stop and let her explore. But they didn't, telling her it's no place for a kid.
They were right, but she's not a kid anymore.
Though when she steps off the bus, after sitting for four hours. She feels like one, her eyes wide and bright as she stares at the big city.
The night life is a striking difference to her usual sights. Cars speeding all around her. The buildings are tall, lit up with neon advertisements. The smells, so many different smells invade her bubble. Smoke from cars, food being served at the night carts, garbage on every block.
And the sounds.
Haley is used to the loud cicadas and crickets in the night, along with the occasional conversation passing her house. But this, it's so loud. So numbing to the mind. She can barely think; as cars are honking, people are talking loudly, and a familiar but different sound of the underground trains.
She doesn't even notice her own sister barreling towards her. That is until she's taken into Emily's arms and spun around in laughter.
âYou're here!â Emily yells, she looks so different. Her brown hair is now a bright blue, what once was long is now short. Very short actually. She's tanner, a real tan. Not the fake tan that Haley always buys from Joja.
But what's really different is Emily's smile. Haley's never seen her so happy before. Her eyes drift to the eccentric jewelry and handmade clothes. She's never seen her sister dressed like this either. Though, she'd be lying if she said it didn't suit her.
âYouâŚyou look tackyâ Haley says with a laugh. And Emily joins her.
âI know! I love it.â Emily does a quick spin to show off her new handmade outfit.
âCome on, you've got to see where I'm crashing.â
As her sister drags her to a taxi, she's talking a mile a minute. It's going in one ear and out the other for Haley.
She's so distracted by how different Emily looks. Before she left; Emily had long brown hair, she was pale and always read. She could never get her head out of the books. But now. She's like one of those manic pixie girls you'd see in those indie films.
But she's real.
It all comes crashing down when she suddenly finds herself in an apartment she's never seen before.
All of the furniture is mainly floor cushions, The fire escape window is open, plants are everywhere. And incase is burning to cover up the longing smell of weed. String lights cover the walls, along with posters and damaged plaster.
âWowâ Haley mutters and Emily laughs.
âYeah, you like it?â She says and joins her sister on the cushion.
âUhâŚyeah. Not really my thing but..it's you. Very you.â Haley shows a small smile to Emily and Emily nods in agreement.
âMy roommate should be back soon, she's at the bodega. I asked her to get your favorite.â Emily says and stands. Haley asks what her favorite is and Emily chuckles.
âPink Whitney, duh. You know, I could make you a sangria or oo- Maybe a daiquiri. Yeah?â Emily stretches her back and pops it. Haley got a glance at a new tattoo on Emily's hip, then she noticed a few smaller ones on her fingers. Obvious stick n pokes.
âDid you do those yourself?â She blurts out and Emily hums.
âThese?â She looks at her hands; a small star, sun and moon. Quickly she nods.
âYeah! You wannttt one?â Emily says with a knowing smirk.
âWhat? No! That's totally like, not safe.â Haley stutters. And Emily laughs,
âSure sure.â She says and walks to the kitchen, which is only a few feet away. While the apartment is small, it doesn't feel cramped. It's quiet for a second, until the door opens.
âMâ back, Miah had a deal on cucumber sandwiches so I bought like six.â A tall woman with tote bags bumps the door shut behind her.
âOoo gimme gimme.â Emily says with a smile and helps her roommate out with the bags. Placing them on the counter, the roommate flips her long pink hair from her face.
Haley swallows any words that attempt to come out.
No hello or nice to meet you, her eyes couldn't leave the woman as she practically floated around the small kitchen with Emily. The two move in sync, emptying the bags. Pouring drinks into thrifted glassware.
She's never seen a woman like this before, except for on tv. When she'd watch old movies with Emily and their dad.
Director Radcliffe comes to you with an alliance, one not by choice.
No warnings besides like mentioning of murder and fear of children being hurt. Oranges too, ik some people are allergic. Also like child on fire but he's fine i swear.
Prev
Before the GDA deemed you; the caretaker of underage enhanced humans.Â
You were simply a GDA agent who happened to be genetically enhanced. Though enhanced is dramatic, you couldn't possibly do what the guardians are doing.Â
In your file your ability is described as emotional manipulation.Â
You've made sure that your file isn't accessible to other agents, once glance and they're twenty yards away from you. Isolation is one thing you're used to, in fact when you're in those large scale meetings it's almost unbearable. You can feel everyone narrowly avoiding you, their glances fleeting. Despite having no physical contact with any of them you understand exactly what they are feeling.Â
The first mission you were sent on was filled with low spirits, an abandoned orphanage.Â
You scoff at the sight of the dreary building, each step you and the other agents took made the structure groan. Warnings against unnecessary movements were mentioned in the briefing beforehand. You almost forgot why you were here in the first place until your eyes met those of a small child. Scared, whimpering in fear and trying to hide deeper into the corner of the room.Â
His name fleeting your memory, but the fire that erupted from him scarred your arm still. You remember grabbing him, whispering soft words of comfort as his tears evaporated from the intense heat of his abilities. His hot tiny hands gripped your shirt, singeing holes into the fabric. Your heart couldnât care of any pain that was coursing through you. Your eyes closed as you held him, wondering why anyone would harm such an innocent child. His fear turns to ease.Â
The softness of your touch hardened when you felt another set of hands try to take him from you. Looking up, your eyes meet the black panel of a GDA agent. Who locks an inhibitor collar around the child's throat. Smoke lifts from his skin, like his fire was just extinguished.Â
The child's exhaustion gives way as he falls unconscious in your arms. The collar blinking it's green light, like it's mocking you. That your touch no longer works on this child. You're useless once again. Â
Knowing that you never saw him again hurt more than the scars that cover your arms.Â
A hand snaps it's fingers in front of you, causing you to blink back into reality. Looking up from the meager lunch you have, is Radcliffe.Â
Your director, the man who's given you the worst assignments. Always with a smile. You never smile back at him.Â
âGot time to talk?â He asks with a raised brow, his scar promintate. It wasn't really a question, but you stand and follow. Not bothering to clean up your mess, you'll be back.Â
As you walk with him down the hall, your hands in your pockets. He's quiet in the start.Â
âStedman's getting released soon.â Radcliffe says, and you blink in confusion.Â
âWhat? I thought he still had three more years.â You say in confusion, Cecil Stedman's arrest wasn't a secret. Everyone in every section knew of his arrest.Â
You're still young compared to Cecil, though not once have you looked up to that man. When you heard of him killing Forcefist and Knucklebuster even after the duo was rehabilitated. You just couldn't imagine the man being free again. Maybe it's the fairness in you. How you want everyone to have a second chance, a third if they're nice.Â
But murder? Was always a line you felt shouldn't be crossed. You know that man's crossed it plenty of times.Â
âPay attention, (L/N)â Radcliffe tsks at you and you swallow with a nod.Â
âYes sir, sorryâ you divert back to RadcliffeÂ
âYour program is progressing at incredible rates. Honestly, (Y/N) I didn't expect it to.â He says as you both enter his office, you feel a nerve twitch in your brain at the backhanded compliment but understand where his heart is. Your mind brings back Stedman.Â
âWhat does this have to do with Cecil, sir?â You asked with a raised brow, Radcliffe leans against his desk and shows a knowing smile to you.Â
âHe's going to be let out on good behavior, and has been excelling in leadership. Something you lack in, No offenseâ he adds on and you exhale. You look away, and then back at Radcliffe. He's not done.Â
âAnd you'll be working with himâ he adds, and it feels like a direct slap to the face.Â
âDirector, I don't think that's a good ideaâ your words were shot down by his hand rising. The energy sliced by his actions.Â
âThe boards already agreed on it, these kids can actually be of use to us. And the quicker we get them with Cecil, the less we have to worry about them throwing a hormone fueled tantrum and bombing the Pentagon.â he argues and you scoff.Â
âThey would never do that, you know that Radcliffe. You know them! Rex is already showing great self control. And the twins are working together like never before.â The last part was a lie. You both know that, if anything, those two are at each other's throats weekly.Â
Your eyes fall to the photo Radcliffe has on the wall. One of you, him and the kids. A few GDA agents are in the back as protection. The first big outing you had permission to go. The kids were begging to see a movie, any movie. It was a unanimous vote on Madagascar.Â
How could this man want to put these kids on a battlefield? You look back at Radcliffe, his eyes soften.Â
âI'm sorry, (Y/N). But I didn't have a choice, it was either this or turn the kids over to testing.â he explains and you feel your throat bubble.Â
âThere was no other choice!?â You scoff out with a shaking tone.Â
âWhy couldn't they just go to school like regular kids? We see it first hand already. It's possible, Radcliffe. Please.â You step closer and the man's posture leans into himself. He crosses his arms.Â
âIt's already been decided.â He says, almost avoiding your gaze by looking behind you. You see his resolve trying not to break, and you know it won't. He's the director of the GDA, you pleading won't change the fact that papers have been signed.Â
You swallow any words that want to come out. Lost and confused in a world that won't show any mercy.Â
It's not fair.Â
When you left his office, your throat was hot. Making your way back to your own office, forgoing the lunch you had in the canteen. It was just an old sandwich and oranges. Nothing to write home about. A part of you feels guilty for leaving it, but the thought of your kids being injured by some idiots in the field really makes tears escape you.Â
Radcliffe has helped you raise those kids. He knows how isolated they really are. You thought he understood them. You truly did.Â
But you really should've known better, especially from the fucking government.Â
Your throat hardens and you swallow, wiping your face. You slam your hands onto your desk and turn on your computer.Â
Cecil fucking Stedman, the man whose going to ruin the hard work you put into these kids. The man is going to turn them into soldiers. Your fingers work quickly, as quickly as the 2005 desktop will let you log into the secure programs and try to find that man's file. Anything about him that is private. Even public. You need to know.
Just to give a quick run down on the story I'm slowing working on and
This story is gonna be, sad. Point blank.
Reader is basically any unwilling surrogate mother to a lot of the GDA heros, but we'll mainly be seeing Kate, Rex and Paul. Least for now.
I honestly don't have much of a plan bc im so busy
But the reader, oh her. My love, she is filled with so much sadness. And cecil is not helping.
This is gonna be kinda enemies to lovers, slow burn? Never written that before.
Either way, she is an 'empath' aka Skin to skin contact could cause the person to feel any emotion you force onto them, or even enhance an emotion of their own.
She is not a combat agent in the slightest. Put her in the field and she is begging you to shoot her.
So yes, that is all I have for now because I am having trouble trying to figure out how to start chapter 2.
Thank you to those who have read chapter one I really appreciate it <3
In the kitchen, you prepare breakfast, sureness in every movement. Hunger gnaws at Conquest the second you begin.
He's not used to actually having the desire to eat. It was always a chore before. Meals on Viltrum were focused on getting as many calories and vitamins into them as possible, taste and texture be damned. Another result of his kinds desire to be the best of the best, the result of putting strength above all else.
That is not to say feasts didn't happen. What was the point of winning a grand battle or conquering a planet if you did not celebrate it even a little?
No Viltrumite would ever admit they enjoyed those feasts. It was the only time food would be focused on flavour than anything else. A decadence not often allowed.
With you, however, every day was like a feast, regardless of what you made or if you even made it yourself. Conquest had never understood the importance some cultures put on food before, but he did now.
A soft humming fills the air, blending with the sizzling of eggs and bacon; the smell was simple, grounded, yet divine simply because he was not used to it.
With an increasing sureness, Conquest sets the table, grabs the plates and utensils, gets the jams out (so manyâ humans were such frivolous yet wonderful creatures), gets the tissuesâ he even pours you both a glass of fruit juice!
It's the most domestic Conquest has ever been. The most domestic any Viltrumite has probably beenâ except Nolan.
Had he done this, too? With his human wife and half-breed son? Conquest can finally see the appeal, can finally understand why one of their best turned traitor.
If Conquest got this every morning for twenty years straight, he'd turn traitor as well!
(If he wasn't already, that is.)
The toast pops out of the toaster, and he grabs them without even a blink. His mouth waters at the thought of smothering it in jam. So far, strawberry is his favourite.
You finish cooking, and fill his plate. "A big man's gotta eat." Is all you said the first time you cooked for him, and it had taken all of his self-restraint from mating with you there and then. It was the only way he knew how to properly show his appreciation.
Eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes, and toast; the yellow centre wobbles as he adjusts his plate, popping when he dips a bit of toast into it. It leaks, and he runs the bacon through it, tastes mixing and exploding on his tongue the second he takes a bite.
Appreciation for your work comes in the form of a satisfied moan, and you smile to yourself, proud.
Food was an expression of love, Conquest discovered not long after meeting you. A form of labour, work, effort put in to satiate a need, a necessary part of life; what was not necessary, however, was just how much effort you put into it. The tastes were always pure bliss, the food's appearance carefully adjusted to appear as appealing as possible. Unnecessary, but appreciated.
When he was done, his plate was wiped clean. He licked his lips, then drank his orange juiceâ he prefers pomegranate or strawberry (again), but he's not pickyâ muffling an embarrassing belch in his fist.
He's full. Satisfied. And the day hasn't even fully begun.
When he opens his eyes from where they'd fallen shut, a moment taken to simply appreciate this moment, he meets your gaze from across the table.
Sunlight streams in, reflecting in your irises, adding depth to their colour.
Beautiful. He thinks. And he knows without a doubt, sunlight filtering in and warming his face, that you think the same.
Aka I've been sitting on this idea for a few days of reader being an empath hero that's assigned to care for the Heros raised in the GDA, while cecil ruins her work </3
Warnings: child death, children getting hurt, angst of being a government mother, cecils face lmao, hospital, idk all I got.
Next
The rhythmic beats of the EKG monitor keep your mind awake, you're not even in the same room as the machine that's keeping track of her. Of Kate Cha.
Well one of Kate's, there's at least three other rooms that have three other Kate's. You remember counting them as they were rolled into the ICU; One of them had their arms torn off, another was bitten by whatever creature was sent to harm her.
The last one,
Before you could even think about what happened to her. You hear her line go flat, the alarm going off to alert the nurses who rush into her room. Shutting her door and closing the blinds.
It never gets any easier. Every time you see her clone herself, you know she'll die. You'll never get the chance to hold the different versions of her and tell them they're gonna be okay.
You shudder a sigh, the florescent lights of the GDA hallway burning you. You've been here too many times. Standing up you turn to look at the window that faces Kate, Kate 1. She's been titled that on her papers that were clipped outside the room.
You wonder where the real Kate is, Kate 0 as she's been affectionately called. Last you checked she was still in safe containment, studying for her classes assigned to her by the GDA.
She's only thirteen. Footsteps echo the hall and you turn to see Kate's twin brother, Paul. Behind him follow two GDA guards. Donned in Grey and green armor, guns locked behind their backs.
As of recently, Paul's been acting out. Because of his own pubescent emotions and abilities, he's been harder to handle.
Least that's how Cecil sees it, you've always been able to talk Paul down from his tantrums. Been able to show him the errors of his ways, but with every mission he's sent out to do. He comes back angry. Disobeying orders, harming those in his way. Even his own sister isn't safe from his violence. A part of you is grateful she can clone herself to avoid direct pain. It still hurts to see the two you raised clawing at each other in the training rooms.
Paul's face is filled with anger and desperation as his footsteps rushed to meet you.
âYou shouldn't be here!â He yells at you, he's almost the same height as you now. Your eyes are trained to look into his own broken brown ones.
His hands push you, and the two guards that follow were quick to grab his arms. Only for him to release a clone that was grabbed instead of him, he aims for you again. His fist rushing to meet your stomach.
But your hands find his fist instead and his knees give way. He falls immediately to the floor with a sob.
The clone of him is the same, crying in the arms of the GDA agents.
Your fingers flex and you sigh, he sniffles and wipes his nose and eyes.
Empathy is the one ability you have. Compared to these kids, you're nothing.
Though right now, as you're holding Paul in your arms. As his cries echo the hall, the emotions seeping out of him. The ones he's desperate to push deep inside.
You're a mother.
Not by choice. You always tell yourself.
Looking up, your eyes find him.
Cecil, standing at the end of the hall. Files in hand and a stoic face. The lighting shining down on him makes his scarring more dramatic than it really is.
You've never gotten the chance to touch him. And honestly, you plan to keep it that way. Last thing you want is to know how he really feels about these kids.
âYouâre married?!â Is the hot topic of the room as everyone shows varying expressions of despair, panic, incredulousness and encouragement.
thanks, Lyds.
âEâyup!â He elongates the first syllable as he flips open a wallet that seemingly appears out of thin air, unraveling a couple feet worth of pictures. âA real keeper, if I do say so myself.â
Theyâre all taken at different locations with multiple poses, some risquĂŠ enough that prompts Barbara into shielding Lydiaâs eyes with a scowl directed at the giddy demon.
outside of a few random ghouls, thereâs only two repeating subjects. Beetlejuice, in all his disgusting, decomposed glory.
and You.
an undead manâs dream all wrapped up in various outfits that do well to accentuate your assets. upon further inspection, you donât seem to be in any distress or making any attempts to flee.
In fact, minus the ones where youâre.. unfocused, youâre grinning from ear to ear with an arm wrapped around your âhusbandâsâ shoulders. among those are a few of you in a wedding dress and him in some ratty tux in what seems to be a Las Vegas style wedding chapel; thereâs even an Elvis officiating.
it would seem that, for once, he wasnât lying. the ghost with the most actually did get married. however, one small detail still has the Maitlands unconvinced.
âBut youâre still.. you?â Adam motions to his entire form; still not alive and with even more moss that seemed to have grown on him.
Beetlejuice snickers, as if it were an inside joke only he was in on, âit wasnât the most âholiestâ of unions, if you catch my drift.â
Barbara gives him a grossed-out look, mumbling a âreally wish we didnât.â under her breath.
âWhereâs the missus?â Lydia pipes up after prying off the cold hands still covering her face.
âGettinâ a snack. Said she was feelinâ a bit peckish.â
the teen looks at him questionably, âwe probably couldâve given her something here.â
ââpreciate the warm hospitality, kid,â he ruffles her already messy hair, earning him a smack on the hand as she tries to bat him away, âbut trust me, you would not want her to eat something here.â
âWhat does that mean?â Barbara questions him, already sensing a trick about to unfold.
Beetlejuice just grins, answering with a simple, âshe has a slight aversion to food.â
all this does is confuse the couple even more. deciding that the demon was an unreliable source, they take a closer look at the pictures to get any sort of hint.
which comes alarmingly fast when they narrow in on one with your widest smile.
a pair of sharp, pearly white fangs somehow glimmers right back at them.
revising your writing is just like "is this weird. is this a weird sentence. is this the weirdest most poorly-worded sentence ever written by anyone" and the sentence in question is "he walked across the room"
Hi! Sorry if I made mistaces but English is not my first language. Can I see some Hellboy with dom female s/o? Like when they get action and he says "I Love you" she is like "ye I known now shut up"? Love your work!!
This has been in the drafts for a while, also I understood it just fine <3 Thanks, hun!
Moans and groans were heard in the private bedroom of Hellboy. In the dim lit room, candles in certain spots softly light the two in each other's deep embrace.
Your hands gripping Hellboy's shoulders, not too hard. But enough to steady yourself.
âohhhâ You moan and arch your back as you bounce up and down onto his cock. His flesh hand holds your hip gently. The stone one, making gravel in the sheets the harder he grips them.
âfuck (Y/N), You're gonna be the death of me.â he moans and looks up into your eyes. You don't slow down on his cock.
âlike I'd let you die.â you groan and tighten around him and he moans louder. He pulls you in for a searing kiss, your tongues dancing as you kiss. It's messy, you're both drooling. But it's so hot. The room is warm, and he isn't even breaking a sweat.
âI love you.â he moans as you both pull away, you can't hide the small smile. You whisper a small âI knowâ to him as you start to gently ride him. Your hand with his for balance and you grind against him. He looks into your eyes.
You know what he wants, but you hold back your words. Grinding quickly, wanting to see him edge closer to the end. His eyes flutter and he gasps again.
âfuck, oh! Love this, ohhh love you.â He moans again. You move at a faster pace. Unable to stop yourself from reaching your own end, unable to stop the words.
âLove you!â You moaned to him and he smiled and let himself go inside of you.
You catch your breath and look back into his eyes.
âLove you.â He whispers, his soft hand caresses your cheek. You lean into his palm and kiss it.
Hi sorry just wanted to say read all of the hellboy fanfics (I think thatâs what theyâre called) I loved them and read them all in the span of like an hour or two. They were really good! Sorry if this bothered you btw. Just wanted to say it was cool sorry.
It doesn't bother me at all. In fact, I appreciate it more than you know. It's hard to write these past months, but knowing people are still reading my work helps me a lot.
