Calvin- Smut
( I switched up the pov for
this one so I apologize if its
not as good (,: )
You would've thought after the first time, that Calvin would've learned his lesson-- but he didn't.
"No... no. That's absurd. Calvin, you've moved on from this, remember?" His hands were clutched strenuously through his hair, his glasses hanging slightly crooked off his nose.
Scotty cocked his head, not understanding what was causing his owner such distress.
Calvin stood, staring between the laptop and his plastic-covered typewriter (that he now considered cursed).
But yet... here he was, contemplating typing on the wretched keys and watching-- waiting to see if that magic that created Ruby returned through the ink stamps on the paper.
He had another dream... it all started with a fucking dream.
Some beautiful women his subconscious had created while he slept, that led to unfortunate series of events.
But he couldn't contain himself.
He was stuck in that cycle once more of women who only wanted to sleep with him because he'd been a second-time coming successful writer.
That or he'd dwindled over the thought of sex workers, but he quickly shook that idea from his mind- ridiculing himself over the pure thought of it.
But even though he considered himself rather sensitive, deep down he was still a man-- even his subconscious was craving physical touch.
His mind's image kept replaying the girl from his dream,
Her eyes bright, her skin soft, her lips wet and plump--
the sounds she made when he pressed his own lips to her most sensitive spots.
"No! Jesus, Calvin!" His head flung to his hands, resting atop his desk.
But he couldn't help it-- a darker deeper, more wanting part of him pulled the plastic from his typewriter.
If he was going to do this... he'd do it differently this time.
No force, no altering of a person.
If he wanted so badly to fuck her, he'd fuck her and then forget about her.
"I'm a terrible person, oh I'm a terrible- terrible person." He ridiculed himself despite his busying fingers grazing over each key.
He'd felt as if he was possessed, that some otherworldly force was making him type.
He remembered the grooves of each key just like he remembered the grooves of the dream girl's body.
The curvature of the keys-- the curvature of her waist.
The smooth silkiness, the sensitivity.
He wrote and he wrote, recalling his dream.
Bumping into this dream girl, her not knowing him, he not knowing her-- but feeling goosebumps arise down his arms as her skin grazes his.
YOU ARE READING
𝒑𝒂𝒖𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔
Fanfiction**NOT IMAGINES OF THE ACTUAL ACTOR** smuts, fluffs, and (perhaps) platonic imagines of paul dano characters, i read a few on here and wasnt a fan of the writing style, personally, so i decided to write a few of my own c: AFAB/fem reader pov with no...
