ideas for a (very very sad, read ahead at your own risk) non-magical/maybe modern newt/credence AU floating around in my head:
- credence is gay. he’s had the misfortune, however, of being adopted by vicious anti-lgbt “activist” mary lou, who is an enthusiastic fan of “pray the gay away” rhetoric and beats him whenever he so much as looks at a boy.
- graves is an older man who grooms credence with faux-kind words and promises that he’ll take credence away to live with him one day – just as long as credence gives him what he wants.
- newt is still a zoologist – but he’s also a happily bisexual lgbt rights activist!
- they meet the day credence finds out that graves has been lying to him, using him, and never intended for them to have a life together at all. credence can’t take it; he snaps, storms out into the street in a flurry of uncontrollable emotion, rage and despair.
- newt spots him just as the police begin to surround him. credence is violent, lost, and standing on the edge of a bridge. nobody wants to approach him. the police are armed.
- newt puts himself in between them and credence, and promises he can talk this boy down. just let him try, he says. he’s good at calming people down (what he means is, he’s good at calming animals down, but he reckons there can’t be too much difference, right? after all, people are animals too).
- it’s a delicate process, but newt manages. he speaks to credence in kind, gentle words; he smiles at him, but always takes him seriously. slowly, carefully, he works out credence’s reasons. newt tells him that he likes boys, too, that his parents weren’t so happy about it either. but that it’s alright – and that he isn’t alone. tells him that if he’d like to just come down, perhaps they could talk some more, somewhere a little quieter, and a little more comfortable. perhaps over a cup of tea.
- credence comes down.
- newt takes him somewhere quiet. maybe a library – he doesn’t want credence to feel trapped by taking him home, but somewhere like a café would be too public.
- they talk. or rather, newt talks, a lot, and credence listens and can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.
- newt tells him about the time he first realised he was bi. about how scared he’d been. tells him how his parents had never outright said he wasn’t welcome anymore after he came out, but how he’d felt it nonetheless, and how much it had broken his heart to leave them. tells him that despite that, he doesn’t regret coming out – tells him about his activist work, about the friends he has now. but not just about that; newt tells credence about his other work, too, about the zoos he’s worked in and the creatures he’s studied and the book he’s working on that’s almost finished, he’s sure of it.
- they talk until the sun starts to set. newt mentions that it’s getting late – that’s when credence tells him that he can’t go home. not now. not ever again. newt suggests, gently, that he has a spare room at his place. but only if credence wants.
Day6 and the fandom is so damn refreshing. No lust for wins or charts, just everyone there to genuinely enjoy the music (good ass music at that). No fan wars either. I love it so damn much y'all. Their monthly releases makes me sooooo happy. I encourage everyone to check them out, you won’t regret it!
CHRIST it’s been 5ever since I posted a fic but we back son with a story that’s fre$h as the dickens so enjoy kiddos
Anon Request: Busty!dom!reader x starlord. Starlord and reader are a new couple and have yet to have sex, quill ends up resorting to masturbating but gets caught by reader and is punished. If you could make this into a story I would be sooooo happy. (Ps your fanfictions are awesome! I read all of them in one night. Too good
Warnings: read the goddam summary above you wet sock
Stepping out onto the ship’s cool floor, you wrapped yourself in a warm towel as you listened to the sound of water droplets colliding with the hard metal floor. You crossed the small bathroom area to the mirror, wiping away the fogginess to be met with your own distinct face. Even with the poor lighting, you seemed to be somewhat glowing.
And how could you not be? You were happily dating Peter Quill.
He’d asked you out a little more than a week or so ago. It was kind of insane. Even though you had a thing for him for the longest time, you’d never expect him to be in a committed relationship. He told you he barely believed that he was doing it himself, but that he had “not just sexy” feelings for you and wanted you to be his. And while romance wasn’t really in Quill’s vocabulary, it didn’t fail to make your heart leap.
So here you were, about a week into your relationship, with a dumb smile constantly plastered on your face. You were completely lost in that honeymoon phase. He made you happy in every way possible: his stupid jokes, the way he’d wrap you up in his arms whenever he got the chance, and his brash, but sincere, compliments.
But there was an aspect of your relationship that hadn’t been touched upon yet: sex.
It’s not like you didn’t want it because, dear Lord, who wouldn’t want it? The problem was that there wasn’t ever any time. Missions, fatigue from missions, and the four other people living in this cramped vessel were the things standing in your way. And, to be honest, you could tell Peter was getting more and more impatient each day.
It was almost funny, the way he was starting to get cranky and hormonal like a teenage boy. You’d catch him in a heated staring contest with your breasts more than few times and he wasn’t embarrassed about it either. And when things did get hot and heavy only to be cut short, he wasn’t quiet about his discontent.
You smiled a little to yourself as you reminisced about your new love, you walked out onto the ship in a fresh t-shirt and shorts. It was strangely quiet for once, so you spent a good 10 minutes searching for any sign of life until you found a note on the main table:
“Back soon -Rocket… and Groot (he made me add him in).”
Shrugging, you put the note back on the table and ran your fingers through your damp hair. In a way, you were sort of thankful for your time alone.
A moment or so later, your ears picked up a funny noise, something like a low rumbling. You brushed it off as one of the ship's’ weird little rackets, but there it was again. Only this time, you could make out the words.
“Baby…” Seems as though you weren’t as alone as you thought.
You were genuinely confused and you decided to explore. The sounds continued on and off, getting louder each time and subsequently leading you down to yours and Peter’s shared bunk. The door was shut, but you could still make out what was going on in there. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile as you cheeks heated up from what you like to call “secondhand mortification”.
Judging from the now-obvious moaning, he was currently… taking care of business. It made you feel a little dirty and you didn’t want to just waltz on in there, so you thought you’d just let him finish and act like this never happened.
“(Y/N)…” he groaned sensually. That changed your mind, for he was practically begging for you.
You felt a warmth rush through you and your heart rate picked up, for you were slowly filling with excitement.
Without thinking, you hit the button and opened the door. You winced at the loud, metal slam of the door. However, Peter was unfazed because, lucky for you, he had his walkman blasting in his ears.
He was lying down on the bed, one hand behind his head as he stroked himself with the other. His pants and underwear were bunched around his ankles, exposing his muscular calves and robust thighs. And, unsurprisingly, he was well endowed. His shirt was riding up his torso, showing off his abs as well. It wasn’t his package on or his lovely body that turned you on, per se, but rather the look on his face and his throaty moans.
Quill’s face was wonderfully twisted, his eyebrows knit together and lips slightly parted. The way his teeth came down on his bottom lip when saying the ‘f’ in fuck sent something wonderful through you.
Then some self awareness hit you and realized you had been standing in the doorway like a total creep, so you decided to take some initiative. Peter’s eyes were still closed and you were a little surprised he hadn’t noticed you yet. Probably too caught up in himself as his hand picked up a little bit of speed.
You crept towards the side of the bed, leaning in close towards his head. Stealthily pulling away one headphone, you lips barely brushed against his ear.
“Having fun?” you whispered. Peter’s eyes shot open at an alarming speed and he sat up rapidly, taking his walkman off and tossing it aside. He began pulling up his pants as he let out a breath.
“I thought you were out with the others. What are you doing here?” he asked a little nervously, his face a bit pink. Was he embarrassed? This was certainly new.
“I could ask you the same thing,” you said suavely, crawling on the bed towards him. When Peter met your eyes, he saw something in them that he’d never seen before. Something one could only describe as control.
You swiftly pushed him back against the bed and straddled his waist. Rolling your hips against him, you felt his hard-on through his pants. Quill sucked in a breath and moved his hands to touch you only to have you quickly grab his wrists and slam them above his head. Now, he was strong enough to get out of the lock you had him in, but he had lost any ounce of fight left in him. He was yours now, under your control.
“This is gonna be a lot more fun for me than it will be for you,” you whispered against the shell of his ear. You delighted in the feeling of him shiver underneath you.
“Really now?” he muttered.
“Really,” you answered, nibbling on his ear lobe. “You see, you’re in trouble. Only bad boys touch themselves, and then they’re punished.” You reached down and palmed him through his pants. His hips bucked upwards slightly in response, wanting more, but you removed your hand completely.
Letting go of his arms, you sat up and removed your shirt. Lust flickered heavily in his eyes when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra and you smirked in his direction.
“So what’s first? Spanking?” he joked with that cocky smile he always wore. Oh man, you were going to enjoy wiping that clean off his face.
“First, you only speak when I tell you to,” you reprimanded. “Otherwise, we won’t get to your treat at all.” That shut him up real quick.
You leaned down to press your lips to his, kissing him fervently. You bit down on his bottom lip, earning a rumbling groan. Moving past his lips, you dragged your lips across his facial scruff to his jaw, then down to his neck. His hand grasped your upper thigh tightly as you bit into his skin, then ran your tongue across the bite mark. Still mounted on him, you ground yourself against him once more.
“Son of a bitch,” he whined breathlessly.
“Who’s in charge?”
This wasn’t natural for Peter, not being the one who calls all the shots. Listening to others wasn’t something he did often, that’s why he was so hesitant to answer. But something awakened inside him, a sense of submission. So when you demanded an answer, Peter gave over his last bit of control to you.
“Say it again.”
“You’re in charge.” You grinned into the crook of his neck before tugging his shirt over his head. His chest was firm against your own as you marked him with dark hickeys. Peter’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once; holding your thighs, grabbing your ass, tangled in your hair as if he were determined to get a full feel for you. Removing his hands from your body, you pinned them on either side of him.
“Keep your hands to yourself. Got it?” Instead of a verbal answer, he only nodded. “What a good boy you are, learning so quickly.”
Inching down his body, you let your mouth trail down his toned body. He was good at not saying any words, but he wasn’t completely silent. His breathing was audible, chest heaving as you got closer to his desired area. Quill groaned loudly as you released him from his restraining garments.
You licked all the way up his length, keeping your eyes focused on his lovely expression. The way his face changed, utterly desperate with need made heat pool between your legs.
“I heard you say my name earlier,” you cooed, dominance heavy in your tone. “Tell me what you were thinking about.” You took him into your warm mouth, but only a little bit. Teasing him by only sucking on the tip.
“I-I was thinking about you,” he breathed, hands traveling to tangle in your hair. “The shape of your ass and your breasts. Fuck, you’re so damn sexy.” You scaled his body again to, this time, ravage his collar with kisses and bites whilst still pumping his cock agonizingly slowly in your hand. He looked as though he were about to burst.
“What else?” His hips were rising off the bed, so you stopped completely. “Stay still,” you warned. “Tell me what else you were thinking about, Peter.”
“How badly I wanna fuck you.” Humming against his hot skin, you got off the bed completely. He watched quietly and intently as you took off your shorts and panties, kicking them aside. While Quill raked your body with his eyes, you smirked at him.
Crawling back towards him on the bed, confusion filled those blue eyes as you climbed up to sit on his stomach.
“I know you can use that pretty little mouth for other uses than talking,” you explained nonchalantly. “So now, you’re gonna eat me out.”
He wordlessly obliged, scooting himself down to meet the level of your heated core. Lowering yourself down, you were met with the new feeling of his warm, wet tongue. He slid it all the way from your entrance to your clit and making obscene noise as he got his first taste of you. Grabbing fistfuls of his hair, you moaned cried at the wonderful sensation. He was good with his tongue, relentlessly making patterns in a desperate effort to make you cum.
“Fuck, Peter, oh my God…” You forgot about the “no touching” rule as he grabbed your hips and tugged, encouraging you to ride his face. He sucked on your clit, adding to the building pressure. Within moments, you were calling his name to the heavens as he lapped up everything you gave him.
You straddled his waist again and kissed his swollen lips, getting a taste of yourself on them. Then you sat up, looking down at his flushed skin and messy hair. You reveled in the sight of your handy work; the few love bites littered around his neck and collarbone.
“You taste so good, (Y/N), but, fuck, I need you so badly right now.” Even Quill himself was a little surprised at the words that had fallen off his tongue. The great Star Lord, legendary outlaw, was currently begging. This couldn’t get any better.
Yet, his punishment had gone on long enough and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need him as well. So you scooted down to his waist and hovered right above for a split second before slowly sliding down on him. The moan that escaped his lips was almost song-like and you could listen to it on repeat. Peter threw his head back against the pillow as you slid down further. You knew he wanted to say something, some dirty comment about how wet you were but he held himself back by clenching his jaw tightly. You whimpered yourself, his thickness filling you to the brim. Just as his calloused landed on your hips, you grabbed his wrists and pinned them down above his head for the third time.
“What was the rule?”
“Please,” he whined, “I gotta touch you.” Leaning down to kiss him, you let go of his hands as a notion that he may touch you. He immediately started feeling all around you as if it were the last time he ever would. It was a lovely feeling, his rough hand in contrast to your smooth skin.
Rolling your hips against his, you started up a rhythm and started bouncing on him slightly. His own hips bucked upwards to meet yours and his fingers dug so deeply into your waist you knew there’d be marks.
“Ah shit, I’m close,” he grunted between heavy pants. You let out a breathy laugh and stopped your movements all together. His eyes unscrewed and he looked up at you in wide-eyed confusion. You grabbed his strong jaw in order to make sure he was paying attention to your words.
“No way, baby, you don’t get to cum until I say so,” you directed, the inner domineer in you coming out once more. He opened his mouth to object but you shot him a look that let him know you meant business. No matter how much he didn’t agree with this, God, he needed to get off.
You placed your hands on his strong chest to steady yourself and started up a rhythm again. A low growl erupted from deep within his throat and he moved more, fast and hard, determined to make you climax.
You did, in no time. Crying out his name, your tightening around him wasn’t helping Quill at all with his own orgasm. He quickly spat out a plea to release, to which you breathlessly accepted. Pressing your chest to his, he lifted his head to bite into your shoulder as he unloaded within you.
Returning from the edge, you lied next to him. Peter wrapped his arms around you, his skin sweaty but gleaming.
“That was…” he began followed by some incoherent sound to define how good the sex just was. You giggled, leaning more into him. “But don’t think you’re gonna get away with that. Because next time, sweetheart, you’re in trouble,” he growled into your neck, smacking your ass playfully.
Some of my concepts for Balor of the Evil Eye for “Besoboi” of the Bubble Comics. Unfortunately I can’t post more of them. I was sooooo happy to use pencil again. The last one is a final design. I love this darling so much.