#also I thought it would be funny to use the thought cabinet for this

[switchyfox]

He's taking you to the Male Toilets™

[rowarn]

bizarre thought.....shadow entity!ghost..... @sgtgarricks is responsible for this!!!

i already want to write another part to this LMAOOOOOOO

part : two

when you first moved into your new house, you knew it was old and had been vacant for a looooong time. it had a bizarre history of people living there and moving out months, even weeks later. most people declined offering a reason for their quick move but others would just vaguely supply that the 'energy was dark in that house', you weren't bothered.

it was a nice, big, house and for damn cheap too. you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

your first nights in the house, you understood what they meant. there was something off about the house for sure. at random times, you would feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, as if alerting you to danger. when you would turn around, there was nothing there. but it would leave you with sweaty palms and a racing heart.

it wasn't until a week into your new life that the first weird thing happened. it was like something from a stereotypical horror movie. you heard a strange sound and got out of bed to investigate. when you got to your kitchen, all the cabinets and drawers were open and your kitchen chairs were placed on top of your table -- which had also been moved across the kitchen.

you tried to take some deep breaths to calm yourself as you returned everything back to normal. you went over and over in your head for some kind of explanation for the event before finally landing on the fact that this house was fucking haunted.

strange events kept happening after that. lights would turn on, your kitchen cabinets would be open, sinks and showers would turn on, doors would slam from across the house. you were losing sleep over it. every single night you'd be woken up by some strange event and you were beginning to understand why the past tenants had moved out so fast.

this was a rotten way to live.

the final straw for you was the night the activity really seemed to ramp up. whatever spirit was haunting you wanted you out now. multiple doors slammed, jolting you from your sleep -- your heart racing from how hard you had been startled from your dreams. you got to your feet and turned on your lamp only to find it wasn't working.

next, you tried the overhead light. same thing.

fuck. it had caused the power to bust.

now you were really scared.

you grabbed your phone, using the flashlight to navigate your way out of the bedroom. the floorboards creaked beneath you, considerably louder without the hum of electricity.

you were halfway down the hall when you heard it. quiet at first, but definitely there. footsteps. mimicking your own, as if echoing after you took your own steps, making sure you knew it was there.

you spun around, shining the light upon nothing. you let out a heavy breath, noticing the way the flashlight shook from how hard you were trembling.

"a-alright, ghost," you called into the empty house, too scared to feel stupid that you were talking to nothing, "i-i'll admit i'm pretty scared right now. i-i know you probably want me out of your house. this is your house, i get it. bu-but i already sunk all my damn savings into moving in here s-so i can't leave!" you swallow, a loud gulping sound that would be funny if you weren't about to piss yourself, "s-so if we could just live together for a little while longer. i-i promise i'll get out the second i have the money!"

there was nothing but tense silence. you felt like an idiot the more seconds that passed. were you trying to make a deal with a fucking ghost? a spirit of someone who probably died in this house? what kind of shit had your life become?

you peered into the inky blackness of the hallway, blinking as you try to futilely see. it takes you a moment to realize you're not just staring into the darkness of your hallway. it's something else.

pure darkness. a dark entity taking form in the blackness of the night. you want to step back, primal fear coursing through you like you never felt before. whatever fear you were feeling was primordial in nature -- as if this entity was something you were born to fear.

the darkness began to swallow up the hallway, eating away at the light your flashlight had created. the air felt heavy and oppressive, making it difficult to take in oxygen.

you swear you could feel hands on you, grabbing you and pulling at you. the longer you stared into the darkness, the more you thought you could see things. eyes. hundreds of eyes. but when you blinked, the images vanished.

then, all at once, the entity was gone and your light was shining down the hallway again unimpeded. after another second, the sound of the electricity slamming back on filled the house and you collapsed to your knees.

whatever that was, it was dangerous. you knew that now.

but it didn't hurt you. perhaps it agreed to your terms and would leave you be now?

oh how wrong you were. sure, it wasn't nearly as scary as that night but now you saw it.

around every turn.

you could see the shadow take shape from the corner of your eye but when you looked, it would be gone. you would be brushing your teeth and when you looked in the mirror, it stood behind you, making your heart leap out of your chest. when you would turn, it wasn't there.

you were no longer woken up in the night, at least. but you weren't sure if you preferred the regular haunting stuff to seeing the ghost or not. you were on the fence about which was worse.

after another scare from the ghost, you jumped so hard that you almost fell over, "alright you -- ghost! will you quit scaring me like that!?" you found yourself shrieking.

to your abject horror, you heard laughter in return.

the shadow shit was fucking laughing at you. like it was enjoying this.

it wasn't evil laughter either. it sounded like pure enjoyment.

you suppose it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for a ghost to make sounds but it didn't make it any less horrifying.

you started talking to it more after that. once you heard its voice - sort of- it became easier. the fear also dissipated in time. sure it would jump scare you from time to time to get a laugh but other than that, it became like living with a really annoying roommate.

"will you get out of my mirror!" you snapped, mouth full of toothpaste with you facemask on. its disappearance was marked with its mirthful laughter.

you also noticed as the days and weeks passed, it stopped looking like a shapeless shadow and more like a person -- a big one at least. well over 7 feet tall. if you looked for long enough, you could almost make out what you think is a skull where the face would be on a human.

one night, you're laying in bed, comfortable. there's rain pelting outside on your window and distant thunder, too nice of weather to sleep away. so you just choose to relax and listen to it.

"ghost?" you find yourself calling into the darkness, "are you there?"

its silent but you feel the air grow heavy and you know that it's arrived. it seems to have...consciousness, you realized. it reacts to you and listens to you. there's one thing that's been plaguing you that you want to ask, though you're not sure if it will answer -- if it can answer.

"you're not really a ghost are you?" you ask.

you're greeted by silence for several, long seconds before you hear it. it's deep and masculine, a whisper of an echo following its voice when it speaks as if multiple things were speaking but only one voice was amplified, "no."

it's the answer you were expecting but that didn't mean you liked it. you swallow harshly around the lump of anxiety in your throat.

"are you going to hurt me?" you ask it, dreading the answer to this one. just because it's been toying with you doesn't mean it's not still dangerous.

"no," it responds again. you can hear footsteps, the entity walking closer and closer to your bed.

you let out a relieved breath at that. though, you're not sure if you should actually believe the dark entity that lives in your house. but at this point, you've really got no choice except to take it's word for it.

"what's your name?" you find yourself asking it.

"ghost," it responds quickly.

you laugh at that, "no, you're real name."

"ghost," it insist, "you gave me a name."

a lightbulb goes off over your head.

"is that why you're being so nice to me?" you ask, not sure if 'nice' is the appropriate word to use.

"i wanted a name," it answers, "you gave me one."

"a name in exchange for living in this house," you muse, deciding to roll over in bed, "alright then. goodnight, ghost."

"rest well," it responds before vanishing, freeing the room from that oppressive feeling.

you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep, briefly wondering where ghost even came from and what exactly it was.

this is unedited i wrote it in a fury of inspiration i hope u enjoyed it regardless of how WEIRD this was LMFAOOOOOOOOOO

[luvwestwood]

❝ FROM ME, TO YOU ❞ - Satoru, Choso, Kento, Toji, Suguru, Sukuna

— (18+) HOW THE JJK MEN WOULD SPEND THEIR VALENTINE'S WITH YOU.

₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw(18+), (cw in order), food play, solo play, cheating/homewrecking, breeding, mildly dubious consent, multiple face slapping, rough sex, public play, discreet vibrator use, slight humiliation, public sex, oral sex(m/f rec), sex-tape making, anal, spanking, ass eating

₊˚༊*·˚ notes. valentines day gift from me 2 u lovelies!!! choso's one is so absurd. im sorry… not. hope u all enjoy, I had so much fun writing these... also the toji one had me creaming so it goes second. if any gifts were given by the men, i have kindly included specific links ^^

Choso Kamo - "Sweet Surprise"

Choso being the sweetest boyfriend ever, loves to surprise you with a 'sweet' treat on Valentine's day. Taking his time to produce what he calls a 'signature' of his; homemade cinnamon rolls glazed in icing - his secret recipe that always has you wanting more.

"Baby, come here will you?" Choso calls from the kitchen, the comforting smell of cinnamon lingering around the entire home. "I've made your favorite!" He adds on, waltzing around the place with a pink frilly apron; portioning out the first piece for you. The apron was a funny gift you gave him for Christmas last year, since he loved cooking so much.

Stepping into the kitchen, you squeeze your eyes shut; taking in the comforting aroma. "Oh wow, it smells divine in here." Eyes opening again, you walk over to Choso, linking onto his forearm. His forehead all sweaty, your heart aches- it was probably from working so hard to make you these rolls for Valentine's day.

"Take a seat- you get first bite," he beams a smile down at you, planting a tender kiss on your forehead. Peeling away from your grasp for a moment, he surges over to your typical seat, pulling the chair out like a gentleman.

You laugh as you sit down, Choso scooting the dished cinnamon roll closer to you. Your mouth watered— freshly baked, the cinnamon sugar perfectly melted, and the icing.. your favorite part.

Taking a huge bite, the glaze manages to stick to the tip of your nose; Choso cheesing across from you as he watches your every move. "..You like it?" something he loves to ask, as if your answer wouldn't be the same like every other time.

"Of course I do, Choso- you know that I'm never, ever going to say no." Using your finger to swipe the icing off your nose, you bring it to your mouth; completely devouring any bit of the sweetness you can get. "Mmph- baby, this is too good, did you do something different today?"

..He did, in fact, do something different. Wanting to make the rolls extra special just for you, Choso glazed them with his own icing.

— Earlier on, observing you were occupied enough to not notice; Choso stuffed the oven mitt into his mouth, hand softly jerking himself off over the tray of cinnamon rolls.

"..Ngh.. She's gonna love these," Choso grunts, his cheeks flushed with crimson, hand leisurely moving up and down his length. He wanted to ice these with love. Quietly whimpering into the mitt, his hand reaches up to the cabinet knobs for support, his body technically leaning against the counter. Eyes shut, still incessantly jerking off his cock, Choso was planning to milk himself dry.

The pace of his movements fluctuates, at the same time he tries to get off to the image of you eating the finished product; a thought that has his cock throbbing, leaking. Breathing gradually becoming more labored, he whines, trying to urge himself to cum - at least get that one bit out of him.

"F-fuck.." Choso curses through gritted teeth, canines desperately digging deeper into the fabric of the oven mitts. His balls relentlessly tighten as ropes of white spurts out from his tip, prettily decorating over the surface of the cinnamon rolls.

Brows furrowing invertedly, his mouth gapes; dropping the mitt completely. Unsatisfied, he analyzes them for a bit; until coming to the decision that it wasn't enough. "..Need.. more.."

He frantically scans around the kitchen, his eye landing on a fresh orange. Choso reaches for it from the fruit-basket, grabbing a knife nearby to slice it in half. Crafting a makeshift flesh-light, he praises himself at the innovative idea.

Choso's two fingers dig inside of the flesh, forcing open a fuckable hole. He lewdly licks off the acidic juice to refrain from doing any extra cleaning. Sliding his throbbing cock inside, a long sigh escapes his lips as the cool pulp wraps around his length. He begins to rut into the fruit; both thighs thudding against the counter.

"Ah.. ah... ngh-" Multiple feral groans come out in short, sharp pants; Buckets of sweat trickling down his skin, he imagines himself fucking into you; picturing the fruit as your tight hole, that only he gets to use.

"Gotta cum.. again.." Choso whimpers, watching his tip coming in and out from the other side of the fruit. "..Need.. to make her.. happy.." choking out between thrusts, he grips onto the orange tighter, the zesty flesh enclosing around him. It felt good, but it wasn't you. Though it had to do.

His cock glistens in the juice; length all wet and slippery— Choso tugs on the hem of his tank top bringing it between his teeth again, using it as something he could suppress his moans with.

Feeling himself reaching his high for the second time, a quiet symphony of whines and heavy breathing escaping through the fabric; Choso was just vocal, he can't help it. Biting down on his wrinkled hem had only resulted in it being stained with saliva.

Not a single mewl comes out of his throat. Choso helplessly grips onto the counters; pulling the orange off in an instance, throwing it to the side; his cock twitching around as even more spurts of thick cum leaks out of his tip. Sensibly, he finally uses a free hand to try and guides his cock so that it wouldn't go out of control.

Letting out a long breath, finally pleased; he peers down at the cinnamon rolls with pride. Lightly tapping his overworked cock against the flat of his hand, any remaining beads of his juices land inside of the tray.

"Ah.. H-Happy Valentine's baby..." Choso's voice shakily whispers; his entire body jittering from the final orgasm. Squeezing on his cock as he gives it one last stroke, he proudly sneers; pulling his pants back up.

Toji Fushiguro - "Home-wrecker"

[WARNING: cheating, sex with ex. you have been warned. This HAS been edited b/c a reader felt that it was giving r word, but that wasn't my intention; I deeply apologise for that! I got too carried away writing. If you would like to read the original, view the reblogs with your own discretion!]

Your fiancé was bound to come home at any moment. For Valentines, you planned to surprise him by waiting in bed dressed in a newly bought lingerie set.

Dolled yourself up, spritzed on a hypnotizing fragrance; you glanced at the clock, ten minutes until he pulls up in the driveway. Tonight, you looked irresistible.

Taking a shot of tequila that was set on your vanity, you shimmied off your satin robe, only to be left in the lacy red garments that complimented your body. Quickly, you slid on some matching stockings; attaching the top band to your garters.

The shot not helping at all, your heart still hysterically thumped against your chest as you laid yourself down on the bed; propping your head up with your fist.

Upon hearing the front door shut from downstairs, you breathed deeply; noticing that he was home a few minutes earlier, not that it meant anything.

"I'm in our room babe!" you called out, biting down on your bottom lip as you smiled, excitement now taking over your system at last.

You could hear the creaking of the floorboards as he climbed up the stairs; in which you anticipated the look on his face as soon as he sees you.

The walking stops, your bedroom door opening. Putting on your best, seductive face; had instantly turned into pure mortification— your ex, Toji, standing in the door frame instead.

"W-what the are you doing here?!" tugging at the bedsheets, you shield yourself with the blanket. "Get the fuck out, or I'm calling the cops!"

His eyes pan around the room; the framed photo of you and your fiancé grabbing his attention. "Didn't have time to get you flowers though, apologies."

"You're gonna be in deep shit if he finds out you were here," you say, scooting yourself further back on the bed until your spine touched the headboard. "..Where is he anyway?"

Toji tuts, your words not affecting him in any way whatsoever. Furious, he cannot imagine your stupid fiancé having you all to himself tonight. "That doesn't matter, I had him sorted." he walks to your nightstand, facing the framed picture of you and your fiancé down onto the wooden surface. "Like he cares about you anyways. Saw him downtown with another chick the other day."

"I don't believe you. Out of all people, you think I would anyways?" you spat out, his face blank, and emotionless— "You've- you've changed, that's what. That's the reason I left you, FYI."

"Who got you this? Him?" he toys with your bra straps, gently tugging it down; the thin, red material hanging off your shoulder.

You ignore his question, "We can't-," saying in a short breath, he stops. "..You had a year to solve this. All of it." Tears welling up in your eyes, his gaze softens— the voice inside of his head mentally cursing at himself for losing you. "..I'm literally getting married next summer.."

His fingertips reach under your chin, "..Then let me make it up to you," Toji studies your features, his heart aching. "..I'll give you what I failed to- back when we were dating." Voice laced with authenticity, his lips hovering over your skin. "..Please?"

Your hands move forward, tugging at his soft, raven strands. You had to think about it, but fuck, was it the liquor?"..Fine- You have one chance. One." your words end in a whine, Toji eager as you gave him the green light— pulling the waistband of his pants down. His cock springs free; so heavy and girthy. One chance, he had to make the most of it.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, placing a pattern of love bites all of your skin like a canvas, "..This pussy, and you- all of you." and a suck and tug at your clit, "I was stupid for letting go of us." Toji places a peck on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your pooling cunt. "So stupid."

Your lips quivers at his words, would all of this really be worth the consequence? You knew better, why didn't you kick him out? Hell, call the police? Right, you'd eventually come looking for him, but he somehow managed to do it all before you.

Stripping off his black tee, Toji mills it somewhere across the room; arousal between your legs at his defined physique. Gasping as he effortlessly dragged you off the bed, the two of you stand up, your legs encompassed around his slim torso. You finally loosen yourself to him, intertwining your tongues at your own will.

You could feel the tip of his cock graze against your folds, Toji trying to sink you down onto his length. After a few seconds of being a tease, he slides into you, both groaning at the sensation of your walls wrapped closing him for the first time in what feels like ages.

Toji murmured into your neck, walking the two of you over to your vanity mirror; his cock lodged inside of your hole. Not only did he get bigger in relation to muscle, but his dick size too. "Seems like the fiancé wasn't fucking you right."

He glances over to the reflection of you cradled around his body like a sloth, and shortly after, he begins to rut his hips up into you. Your tits bounce as he does, Toji growling as he continuously snapped into your hole; balls hitting against your skin.

His hands roam around the surface of your ass; Toji drilling into you, after not having your pussy for so long. He wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste— he was going to prove himself right. The sex just felt ten times better tonight, possibly due to how scandalous the circumstances were.

"Fuck," he mumbled, your forehead falling heavy onto his muscular shoulder. You bit onto his skin, moaning endlessly at Toji rearranging your guts. He didn't allow this though, the man firmly striked his palm against your ass from below, causing you to withdraw your head back off his shoulder.

Filthy sounds of sex echoed throughout the room, Toji using you like a ragdoll, he devilishly grunts. Unsatisfied, he lays you against the vanity top— his cock not sliding out of you, and he remains between your legs.

Placing one hand on your hip, the other resting on the mirror's frame; Toji bucks himself mercilessly into you, the vanity rocking against the wall. "..Pussy too good," his head falls back, enthralled, moving back down to watch as his hand eagerly grabs onto your boob— a few products falling off the vanity from how hard he was fucking you.

"T-Toji.." you choke out, head about to burst from the pressure building up inside of you, Toji fucking into your gummy walls; my, did he fuck you good. Always. You could feel him filling every inch of you, the veins on his cock kissing against your insides.

Toji lays a hand on your cheek, swiping a thumb across your face. "You can take it," he cooed, "I know you can-" At this point, he has turned feral, but refused to hurt you. Minute orbs of sweat drenching his forehead, his hair becoming spiky at its ends.

You chant his name repeatedly, clawing at his back; leaving marks of crimson just like your torn garments. Toji's bends down closer; index and thumb lightly gripping onto your jaw. "Look at me, come on- I wanna see your pretty face,"

No intention to stop, Toji reaches for your hand; yanking the engagement ring off your finger, throwing it across the room. "I'll get you a better one, y'don't need that anymore."

His forehead intimately rests against yours, "We'll go- somewhere far," voice cracking, he holds onto you tightly; keeping you close to him. "How about we start fresh, hmm?" Toji's movements slow, and passionate; "Answer me baby- I wanna hear it from you,"

"Yes, yes- fuck- I'll do it," your eyes flickering, struggling to stay open. "Just- I'm.. I'm gonna cum,"

"Give it to me", he moaned out, voice trembling. "..Let it all out-" Toji's words like a spell, you shuddered around his length, your plush walls convulsing uncontrollably. He grunts in response, at the same time he hurriedly pulls out, ropes of white decorating your lower abdomen.

"…God damn," he sighs, your eyes shutting— Toji toys with his cock, slapping the tip against your clit. He smiles, planting a tender peck on your lips; giving your tits a slap. Massaging the plump on your thigh, he attempts to soothe your nerves; until something that he says takes you by surprise.

"..Oh yeah, your ex-fiancé is in the basement. How 'bout round two in front of him all tied up?"

Satoru Gojo - "A Heart(-throbbing) Night Out"

Two years ago, what you would have assumed an innocent, couples picnic in a floral field— ended up with him pounding you as the bees watched; still, you can recall the countless insect bites that appeared all over your legs.

Last year, you both went to Greece; Satoru treating you to a lush hotel that included a private pool looking over the coast. A pool, where he ate your ass out while you took in the beautiful scenery of Santorini.

And.. this year, it was something— different. The plan your boyfriend had laid out for this exact Valentine's was, you having a remote controlled vibrator inserted inside of you as the two of you go out for an intimate dinner date.

It took you a lot of convincing, but Satoru swore not to turn it on at the most inconvenient of times. Though he had a thing for public humiliation, so you didn't quite trust his words.

"This, it's- I love it, Satoru. Thank you." The two of you laced your hands together, yourself in awe with the venue he had chosen for tonight. Satoru flew you guys out to New York for Valentine's- in which he chose a rooftop restaurant, serving the finest food out there. Knowing this place was hard to book in with, you could only appreciate it even more.

Satoru kisses your fingers in the palm of his hand so lovingly, "I'm glad baby." Grinning, your eyes travel around his body, taking in the outfit you had bought, and picked for him tonight. That was the one thing he let you do for him. Satoru paid for your nails this week, hair and clothes; hell, even for today. You were like his doll.

"You look so beautiful, you know that?" Voice low, though you can hear him apart from the murmurs around you. Red tints your cheeks, Satoru flashing his pearly whites at your reaction.

"Oh stop it, Satoru.." You swat his hand away, relaxing against the back of your seat. He lets out a laugh, loving how flustered you tend to get at times. Due to his gushy behavior, you had completely forgotten about the bullet vibrator that was stuck inside of you right now.

"..Here's to us," Satoru holds out his glass of Pinot noir, looking at you from across the table so lovingly. Holding out your own in return, he smiles, as they both harmoniously clink together.

"To us," you responded. Retracting your hand, you take a sip; the tannic aftertaste lingering down your throat. Satoru slices the steak in front of him. You prod at your pasta with a fork, twirling it around. Before you could speak further, he shoves a bite-sized piece of steak into your mouth, saying 'ahh,' prior.

Having to chew out of your own will, you gnaw at the meat endlessly, Satoru taking glances at you from time to time.

"What's wrong?" he continued, "Something wrong with your food baby?" Satoru set his cutlery down, leaning in closer over the table.

"..Huh? Nothing is wrong?" Confused, you furrow your brows; when out of the blue, a buzzing sensation emits from between your legs. Your boyfriend watches as your mouth slightly gapes open, legs crossing over one another. A prideful grin plasters onto his face, as he watched you act all disheveled right in front of him.

Eyes widening, Satoru's eyes glint with faux concern. "No- no, let me call over the waiter. Hold on," Having the desire to toy with you even more, he raises a hand, hollering for some assistance.

Pleading quietly across the table, he ignores you; "S-Satoru, I'm fine-just please, turn it off.." You feel him increase the vibration level, the same waiter approaching you from before. Whimpering, you claw at the edge of your seat, Satoru watching you with the corner of his eye.

"..Is everything okay here?" The waiter checks on you both, meanwhile, you were using up most of your strength to suppress any sort of noise; thighs uncontrollably resorting to stamping together.

Satoru smiles, making up a white lie on the spot. "My girlfriend loves the wine you recommended to us, don't you baby?"

Trying your best to suppress a moan, you refrain from jittering in your seat; finding it difficult to string together some words. "Y-yeah.. it's amazing.." A mewl slipping past your lips, you quickly cover up your noises by pretending to clear your throat.

"We'd love to bring the whole bottle out," Satoru furthers your suffering, in which you were begging for the waiter to finally go away. Approving of his request, they head back to the kitchens; finally leaving you two alone.

As soon as they had left, you moan into your napkin; Satoru subtly chuckling at your behavior. "Can't take it?" He mockingly coos, watching as one hand of yours grips the corners of the table. "Don't you make a mess, you wouldn't want that, right?"

Hysterically shaking your head side to side, you pinch the top of your nose bridge with your thumb and pointer finger; mind completely clouding. "Fuck- turn it off, I beg you-.."

Satoru's hand slides across the table cloth, intertwining with yours. He caresses the flat of your hand tenderly, feeling how your grip tightens as he fluctuates the intensity of the vibrations. "..Can't even keep quiet," he adds on, "..'ts got my cock so hard," Satoru thankfully whispers the end of his sentence, the waiter hurriedly coming back with the full bottle of wine.

They both nod at each other, followed by Satoru pouring more wine in your glass. Your forehead rests against your knuckles as you continue to poke at the food; your boyfriend suddenly getting up from his chair. Your head began to spin, you were no longer in a state to interact with others anymore.

Instantly hauling your eyelids up, you panic, in fear of what he would do next. "..S-Satoru, what are you doing?.." You loudly sigh, heels tapping against the ground as he puts the vibrator at it's max; the coil in your abdomen threatening to snap. The wine, the stimulation the toy gives you and Satoru himself was really messing with your insides.

He walks over to your beside, kneeling shortly after, at this point you felt like you were going to faint. Satoru, from his pocket, draws out a tiny box wrapped in the familiar Tiffany & Co mint blue.

Your heart rapidly pounds against your chest; overwhelmed by what possibly could be your impending orgasm, and the stunt Satoru was pulling off right now.

"A-are you crazy?!" you peered down at him with genuine disorientation, chest heaving frantically. Everybody around not helping, they turn to watch the sentimental moment before them.

The pace at which your foot taps gradually gets faster and faster, Satoru beaming his pearly whites as he flicked the box open. A ring sparkles from the cushion, and tears begin to stain your cheeks. Being that it was a good opportunity to let it all out, everyone would have assumed you were overwhelmed by his proposal, and not the vibrator lodged inside of you.

Satoru lays his palm upon your bare leg, massaging it carefully; only adding onto your arousal— his demeanor making you feel as if he was telling you to let it all out, in both ways.

"My beautiful girl, I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he takes into account the priceless expression on your face, "You make me feel like the happiest man in the world."

Fanning your face with your fingertips, hot tears stream down your face nonstop. It took a lot in you to not moan out loud for everyone to hear, Satoru truly trying his best not to let out a laugh; "..Will you marry me?"

The constant vibrations going at high speeds inside of you urge that same coil to finally snap. His hand massages your calf gently, and you groan, slamming your fist down onto the table.

"F-Fuck! yes!" Unexpectedly, you curse at the intense high washing over you, Satoru leaning in for a passionate kiss. Relieved as his lips latched onto yours, you whimper; a sense of relief coming upon you as he does so. The applause and cheer of the audience all around allowing you to make as much noise as you want.

Your face hot, Satoru pulls away, wetness from your climax pooling in your underwear; your now, fiancé sliding the ring on your finger. The vibrations come to a halt, and you grab onto the back of your seat in relief— Satoru cunningly grins for only you to see.

"..Think I'll have my dessert at home."

Kento Nanami - "All (Tie)d Up"

Valentine's day with Kento was intimate this year. Tonight, you've prepared his favorite home-cooked meal; steak and mushrooms. The steak, medium rare and the mushrooms, preferably sauteed.

You thought it was perfect, Kento actually had gone on a mission today, so as soon as he came home; you'd be waiting for him— wearing the dress you wore on your first date, and mellow Elta James on the record player in the living room.

As a gift, you've gotten him a brand new tie. Kento loved his ties, all which were bought by you— from simplistic, to funky; yet the one you got for him today was an intricately embroidered tie in taupe, with your initial threaded on inbetween the designs.

You smiled at the box before ribboning it back up, anticipating for the moment Kento arrives home; which would be any second now. And correct, the twist of a knob sounds from the front door; with you hurriedly prancing around the kitchen table to piece together the finishing touches.

"Darling?" Kento slid his shoes off, neatly stowing them away in the cloak room. "I'm home," his hair no longer gelled back, instead some loose strands fall onto his forehead. He smiles as soon as he heard the record player faintly on in the living room.

The smell of his favorite dinner met with his nostrils, Kento following the aroma, being led into the kitchen. His eyes glimmered with content as he saw you waiting in front of the candle lit dinner, glasses of wine ready to go; and you, you looked breathtaking.

"..Beautiful, what's this?" he cheesily grinned, looking around the kitchen; watching as you approached him with a smile on your face.

"Kento, didn't you forget? It's Valentine's Day! You've been so busy that yo-" cut off abruptly with him leaning down to give you a peck on your lips, he pulled away, hushing you.

"Of course I didn't forget," Kento pulled a bouquet with your favorite flowers from behind his back, the man laughing as you rolled your eyes at him. He pulled you into a hug as soon as you took the bouquet from him, Kento leaving yet another kiss, this time, on your cheek.

The two of you walked over to the table, Kento swiftly placing his briefcase on the kitchen island. He still rushed over before you could sit down, pulling the chair out for you.

Both finally take their seats, Kento melting at the amazing food you've taken the time to prepare tonight. He glanced at you for approval before digging in, and you nod.

Pouring wine into his glass first, you do yours second. Unable to help yourself, lovingly watching his every move instead of eating your own dinner. "How's the food, is it alright?"

"It's perfect," Kento takes your hand into his, tenderly kissing on your fingers, indulging in your scent. "I'm truly lucky to have a woman like you."

The atmosphere goes quiet for a short duration, only the sound of the record player echoing throughout the home. "..I have a surprise," you both say in unison; breaking out into laughter after.

"You go first," you say, Kento disagreeing. "No, ladies first." The two of you playfully squabble before Kento gives in, walking over to his briefcase on the counter to pull out a navy, leather box, before making his way back to you.

He sits down, placing it on the table for you to open. Your eyes flicker, seeing Graff all over the ribbon. "Go on, have a look," Kento encourages you to see for yourself, his stomach fluttering.

You look at him hesitantly before opening the box, your hand covering your mouth as you gasp, a diamond necklace glimmering with the candlelight.

"Kento.." your body sank down into the seat, the man anticipating for your final reaction.

"Is it the right one? I recall you pointing at that in the magazine the other week." Your heart melted, at Kento's ability to remember the littlest things about his loved ones.

You pulled him into a hug, his large arms closing around you, engulfing your body completely. "..Thank you, I love it so much.." His amber, woody scent pleasant to your nose.

His hand caressed the back of your hair in the midst of the embrace, Kento mumbling into the crook of your neck. "You deserve it, you really do."

Pulling away, Kento reaches for the necklace, the two of you smiling as you both stood up. You faced your back towards him, bunching up your hair as he wrapped his arms around your frame, clasping the necklace behind your neck.

"..Perfect," he whispers, Kento places his hands on your waist, peppering kisses on your bare shoulder.

You giggle, turning back to face him, "Okay, don't forget I have a gift for you too!" He peels his hands off your hips to roam on your back, watching as you reached for your own square box on the side of the table.

Handing the box over to him, he takes it into his possession. Tugging at the ribbon, he takes it apart; the box opening to a bespoke tie. His index finger traces over your initial, a genuine grin appearing on his face.

“I love it so much,” his hand wraps around your body, bringing you in for another hug. Kento pulls the tie out of its box, familiarly wrapping the garment around his hand.

Lost in the moment, Kento leans in for another kiss as a thank you, but this time; it’s more passionate.

Your tongues intertwine with each other, teasingly fighting for one’s dominance, his tie wrapped hand guiding you to sit atop the table. You whine into the kiss; sexual tension lingering through the air.

Kento mindfully moves the food and candles away from your surroundings, not wanting to put the two of you at risk.

Gasping, his lips latch onto your neck, leaving sweet, meaningful kisses all over your body. You were like a reward. Your fingers tangle his golden hair, slowly travelling down his broad chest, stopping at the buckle of his belt.

He groans, hearing the sound of metal undo, watching as your hands bypass the hem of his boxers, Kento doing his gifted tie around your neck.

He ravels the fabric around his palm again, the tie on your neck tightening, but only slightly choking you.

Hopping off the dinner table, you kneel, your eyes setting onto his above. The tie on your neck tightens as soon as you pull his thick cock free, which ended up heavily resting on the flat of your cheek.

He grunts, heart doing backflips as he watched you smother his warm length all over your face; Kento impatiently slapping his tip against your lips.

Breath hitching as soon as he pushes all inches slowly into your mouth; his head falling back at your wet, hot chamber enclosing around his cock.

“..Fuck..” he whispered, pushing further down your throat; balls throbbing at the gagging noises continuously slipping past your lips.

“Good girl.. take all of it.” He praises, tears welling up in your eyes from how Kento was stuffing your mouth completely, to the point you could barely breathe.

His hips cheekily began to rock back and forth, cock fucking into your throat; the gagging noises amplifying. Your hands reached to the back of his slacks for support, your eyes squeezing shut.

Kento’s hands let go of the tie, instead he grabs your face; pushing your head down onto his cock; relentlessly fucking into your mouth.

“Ah..” he let out a laboured sigh, buckets of spit dribbling down your chin and onto your dress; Kento swiping over your cheekbones as he uses your throat like a fuck toy. “Such a good doll for me, aren’t you?”

You hum in approval around his cock, eyes rolling from arousal. The vibrations of your throat heighten his stimulation, Kento pulling on the tie to remove you off his slob covered length.

Coughing, Kento wipes the tears off your cheeks with his thumbs as he brought your chin up, telling you to open wide; dropping a fat orb of spit into it.

Not ordering you to swallow, he instead pushes his cock back into your mouth— Kento whimpering as the rutting of his hips become staggered.

“Gonna need you to swallow all my cum,” he chokes out, “Think you could do that for me?”

Nodding eagerly, Kento smiles at your reaction. The 10k necklace sparkling on your collarbone with pride.

His thrusts transition into slow, considerate movements; large hands holding tightly onto either sides of your head. Kento groans, bottoming his cock into your throat; his pelvis just touching the tip of your nose.

Your eyes enlarge, and shut as soon as you feel his warm ropes reach down the back of your throat, Kento sighing in satisfaction. Ever so slowly pulling his cock out of your throat, a long, string of spit forms between you two, Kento gently caressing the back of your head.

Slapping the tip against your lips, he lets out any remaining beads of cum; Kento gently brings you off the ground, taking you in for one last, filthy kiss.

Unsatisfied with how he left you, Kento, without hesitation, pushes your back down onto the dining table, your two legs resting on each side of his torso.

You giggle, Kento bunching up your dress at your hips, tutting as he saw you weren’t wearing any underwear. “You naughty girl..” He sucks some air through his teeth, giving your pussy a slap with the leaking tip of his cock.

“I’m gonna put it in now. That okay?” He makes sure, a chuckle slipping past his lips as you chug down your glass of wine, Kento reaching for his to do the same.

He loosens the already tie on his neck, hands on your thighs to sink you onto his cock; Kento’s signature Tag Heuer strapped onto his wrist. The watch stays on.

Quietly grunting, he slowly moves in and out of you; his fists resorts to pressing down on either sides of your waist.

“Faster Ken-, please..” you manage to whisper, Kento leaning in closer against your body.

His hips piston into you at an unreal pace, the dining table’s legs screeching against the floors; the table itself beginning to move across the room.

“Fuck- fuck, fuck..” Kento curses under his breath, his hands shakily holding onto your waist— whimpers coming from him as you convulsed around his cock.

The cutlery on the table begins to scoot to the edge from his brutal thrusts, your tits threatening to bounce out of the neckline of your dress; Kento doing you a favour by taking them out himself.

“Look at me princess,” he cooed, grabbing your cheek; tenderly swiping his thumb across your cheekbone. “Come on, look at me, you’re taking my cock so well.”

You whine, grabbing at his tie to pull him closer, aching to have his lips back onto yours for the millionth time. He groans in the midst of the make out session, you were practically moulding into each other.

His forehead rests against yours, Kento looking into your eyes as he fucked into you, passionately. “Tell me baby, t-tell me you want my cum- I’ll give it to you,”

Kento’s voice cracking, warm tears begin to stain your cheeks, ruining your makeup; his hands fast enough to wipe them away.

“P-please, Ken- I need..” you say, unable to finish the rest of your sentence; your cock fucked mind having difficulty to string some words together.

Keen to get the words out of you, he pushed you to your limits. “What is it- come on- use your words..” He drastically slows down his movements, in order for you to sound some words properly.

“..I need your cum inside of me..” you squeal the last of your half-said sentence, Kento planting a kiss on the top of your head before standing back up between your legs.

“I’m gonna cum,” Kento bites down on his lips, his grip on your thighs intensifying; fingertips digging into your skin.

He uncontrollably whines, bottoming into your hole as he loses his own mind; cock twitching like mad as he pumped his seed into your womb.

You both attempt to regulate your breathing, the sound of the record player still on up to this very moment. His cock slides out of your hole, Kento peering down at his load dripping out of your pussy, making a mess below.

“We better finish this food…” he says, Kento helping you get back on your feet. As if you two would be able to carry on with dinner like normal anyways.

Suguru Geto - "Picnic Dick"

For Valentine's this year, both you, and Suguru planned on having a car boot picnic. The weather was absolutely perfect, and you two visited at sunset. In addition, your one contribution was making the charcuterie board; which you truly loved to do.

After having a light bite, you both agreed to play around in the water; the tides still calm at this hour.

"The water is cold, Suguru!" you squeal, your boyfriend splashing droplets at you, causing you to squirm around. He laughs, in return you splash back; Suguru charging towards you.

"Don't come close to me!" You scream, feet wading in the water with all your strength. Speeding up, you were close enough to the shore— until a pair of soaking forearms wrap around your waist; taking you off your feet, heading for the sands.

"You're not going anywhere," Suguru teases, his grip tight around your stomach. You playfully jitter in his hold, the two of you falling back down on the picnic towel; breaking out into genuine laughter.

He remains hovering on top of you, your back resting against the soft material of the towel— Suguru tucking strands of hair away from your face to get a better look at you. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispers, in return you attempt to cover your face with your hands; flustered.

Suguru grabs your wrist to get them out of the way, leaning in for a tender kiss. What was a soft peck, turns into a longer, hungrier kiss. You, still being in his embrace, Suguru stills his knee intimately between your legs— a noise coming from your throat as he swiped his tongue on your lips.

"Mmph," you moaned, pulling away for a short duration, "There's people all around us,"

Suguru's lips leave yours, latching onto your jaw instead, leaving a trail of loving kisses behind. "Wrong, there's no one here at all," you feel him smirk against your neck, his hands roaming and massaging at your waist.

Ticklish, you giddily laugh, "Okay, but what if someone comes in the next five minutes?" Your hands rake through his strands the more he went lower down your body with the kisses, Suguru guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he came to a halt between your legs.

"Then I'll be done with you in four," Suguru grabs your thigh, massaging it gently; placing a warm kiss directly on your soft skin. His head goes underneath your mini-skirt, as you hysterically look around the environment for any people. Fortunately, nobody was here.

You feel his finger tug at the hem of your thong, attempting to pull it to one side. But he doesn't, and instead licks over the fabric, your voice trembling as you sigh out his name. He continues to lap at the material; humming in response to you calling for him.

The sound of the waves crashing against each other put you in a state of euphoria, Suguru finally pulling your panties to one side; kitty licking at your clit.

Back arching against the blanket, you were breathless; Suguru gently fucking the tip of his tongue into you. Hands leaving his strands, you fondle with your breasts, your boyfriend groaning against your folds as he ate you out. From time to time, he'd stick a digit in, curling his fingers up inside of your plush walls.

Your head heavily falls to the side; a few people in the distance catching your eye. You frantically tap on Suguru's head over the fabric of your skirt, he remains occupied against your folds.

"Sug- Suguru, there's people coming. Get up baby," you prop yourself up on your elbows, your boyfriend firmly gripping onto the soft of your thighs; not allowing you to get up.

"Don't mind them," he responds, unbothered, busy alternating between sucking and fucking a finger or two into you.

You whine, back falling onto the towel for a second time; your legs clamping around Suguru's head. Returning to fucking his tongue into you, he lazily rubs circles on your sensitive bud with a thumb. Looking to your side once more, you see the people gradually getting closer; and it seems like they have no clue yet.

"Let it all out on my face," you hear him plead from under your skirt; your mouth forming an o, brows furrowing as the thumb on your clit was replaced by his tongue. He sucks, eyes closed as he eagerly waits for you to decorate his face with your juices.

Until, Suguru arises from your skirt; folding you into a mating press position, your entire pussy on show as he continues to lap at your throbbing cunt.

"W-what are you doing?!" you cry out, chest heaving as your legs shudder, Suguru relentlessly curling his digits up into you; pleasantly enjoying your warm juices covering his chin.

He groans against your folds; shirt collar soaked with you. Retracting his head from between your legs, he gently places your feet off his shoulder; the two of you looking in the same direction.

The people who were gradually coming closer, have turn around and ran away.

"So I was working like a sex machine for nothing? Just for them to turn around?" he sighs, licking around his mouth to clean anything left behind.

You haul your head up, rolling your eyes; Suguru still anchored between your legs. "Better safe than so-" You suddenly shriek, Suguru flipping you over on your stomach— rising your skirt up and giving your ass a spank.

He yanks your thong down, grabbing you by the waist— Suguru keenly pulls his cock out of his pants, his hand pressing down on the flat of your back.

"You couldn't wait until we got home?" you teased, your mischievous behavior set straight by the time Suguru slid himself in.

Hands grabbing at the sand, his hips rock into you at a brutal pace; your ass ripping against his pelvis. Suguru was practically fucking you into the ground; your body wanting to give up at times, but he decides to place his hand below your abdomen, pressing down and supporting you at the same time.

"Oh f-fuck," you whimpered, overstimulated by the additional pleasure his cock was giving you. Suguru places hands on either side of your waist, technically fucking you back onto his girthy cock. He was pussy whipped.

"You feel how deep I am?" he grunts, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; your chin falling flat onto the towel.

A spank lands on the surface of your ass; Suguru pulling you against his chest by the scalp. "Answer me," he whispers into your ear, the sound of skin slapping blending in with the sounds of the beach.

"T-too deep," you choke out, Suguru leaning more backwards; his cock fucking up into you now. His hands roam all over your chest, squeezing away at your tits as he postponed into your overstimulated hole.

You reach behind to lock your arm around his nape, Suguru placing kisses on your jaw, his movements becoming slow, but still rough.

"I'm gonna cum again.." breathless, your words come out in a mutter; Suguru's method of fucking turning into more relaxed, passionate love making.

He purrs into your ear, hands reaching down to trace shapes on your clit yet again. "You need to cum?" his tone warm, and gentle; "..do it baby, come on,"

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, dazed; no longer taking into account the environment around you. Exhausted, you shudder for the second time; Suguru enticingly mumbling sweet nothings into your ear.

"That's it.." he pants heavily against your skin, "..Let it all out for me," followed by his seed filling you up entirely; your boyfriend whimpers at his own overwhelming orgasm.

Suguru keeps you in his embrace, cock still lodged into your hole. Placing a few more kisses down your back, his hands snake down your sides; length slipping out of your used hole.

You look behind you, eyes widening as you saw the tides getting closer; soaking almost the corner of the towel.

"..Suguru, we need to go!" you clamour, swiftly grabbing your thong off the ground, Suguru yelling as he reached for your picnic gear, and shoes.

Sukuna Ryomen - "Take a photo so it lasts"

It had finally come, the day your boyfriend had eagerly been waiting for.

Why? After long, restless days of Sukuna begging to make a sex tape, the two of you had agreed to exclusively do it on Valentine's Day. And you promised. It was a mutual disclosure, that the tape would only be for your own eyes to see.

Without even realising, February 14th had finally come upon you, Sukuna even providing a fresh, new lingerie set; on him. You both had even rented out a luxury hotel, just to be extra.

"You ready to come out?" Sukuna yells from the bedroom, meanwhile you were adding a few finishing touches to your look in the bathroom. His hands were fiddling away with the camera, making sure it was good to go.

You step out of the bathroom, his camera immediately panning to you; a free hand palming himself through his boxers. Giving the camera a twirl, his cock leaks at the sight of you in the sheer babydoll dress he bought; no bra, no panties. Just your nipples peeking through the material.

A low, throaty groan comes from his throat; watching as you came closer to the edge of the bed. "Crawl to me baby," he orders, in which you obey, Sukuna smiling behind the camera as you slowly, made your way closer to him.

Stopping at his feet, you kneel, fondling with your breasts through the sheer material; Sukuna patting at his lap for you to take a seat.

You do as he says, your bare pussy rubbing against his rock hard bulge, causing moving your hips slowly. Sukuna focuses the lens on your upper half, his fingers tugging at the neckline of your dress; tits spilling out immediately.

"Fuck, those tits," Sukuna curses, turning the camera around as he latches his mouth onto your nipple; tongue swirling around the bud. You moan, raking your hands through his coral ends; hips moving faster against him.

Sucking until they go numb, his warm mouth leaves your chest; Sukuna postioning the camera on the nightstand next to the bed. He eagerly diverts his attention back to you, lips needily locking onto each other; his large hands squeezing at the plump of your ass.

Giving it a light spank, you squeal, playing with the hem of his briefs; yearning for his cock to come out. His hand grips onto your wrist, stopping your actions. "Don't rush," he whispered, holding onto your waist to flip you around; completely bending you over.

The camera perfectly captures your bare pussy on display— Sukuna spreading your two cheeks; his tongue gliding through your folds, up to your asshole.

You shriek, breaking out into a moan, the feeling of his hot tongue against your ass tickling you. "S-Sukuna!" you whine at the foreign feeling, his hand drawing back and striking your left cheek; a red imprint stays behind.

He flips you around effortlessly again, Sukuna grabbing the camera off the nightstand; holding it in one hand as he watched you eagerly yank down his briefs.

"Look at this slut," he focuses the camera on your face, your hands reaching immediately for his cock. His degrading words amplifying the arousal between your legs.

Taking his length into your hands, you lick at his tip gently, eyes peering into the camera. One hand incessantly travels up and down his shaft, your mouth stuffed with his big cock.

Spit bubbles form at his tip, the rest dribbling down towards his balls. "Shit.." he moaned, his free hand clawing at your scalp, hips bucking into your mouth like a cock sleeve, your head bobbing up and down.

Tears blur your vision, needing a bit of air you squeeze your eyes shut, sucking an outrageous amount of air through your nose. He firmly pulls you off his cock, his length twitching at your helpless gasping; Sukuna giving your cheek a slap.

"Look at the camera baby," he grabs you by the hair again, properly placing your face in the frame. "Show the camera how cock drunk you are, and I didn't even put it in yet."

A sinister smile spreads across his face, Sukuna letting go of you completely as he falls back against the pillows, head resting on the headboard. "Come on," he jerks his red, aching cock, menacingly slow. "Since you want it so bad, come sit on it," Sukuna sways his cock side to side with his fingers, camera glued on you as you scrambled onto his lap.

He places the camera back on the nightstand, watching as you use your hands attempt to line his cock up with your needy hole. Pussy hovering over his tip, Sukuna impatiently sinks you down on him completely, wails escaping your mouth from how girthy he was.

Your hands claw at his bare chest, laying just atop his inked markings. "Move those hips baby," he purred, grunts laced with gratification as you began to bounce on his cock.

"Just like that," he hissed, reaching to play with your breasts; your hand resting on his thigh behind you as he stuffed you full of his cock.

Every inch of him you managed to take. "You can do better than that," he teased, taking in how breathless you immediately have gotten in just such a short duration.

"Tired already?" Sukuna points out, his tone mocking and offensive. He grabs the camera off the nightstand, bringing it behind your back, getting a better focus on his cock pushing in and out of you.

The soles of his feet place firmly on the mattress, Sukuna resorting to fucking his cock mercilessly into you at his own will. Your voice shaking from his brutal pace, his tip bullying your cervix.

"S-sukuna, p-please," you whimper, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, eyes rolling to the back of your head; fapping noises coming from below.

“Please what?” Unsatisfied, he bucks deeply into you once, before transitioning you into a mean mating press, Sukuna placing the camera behind him to get a good shot of his cock drilling into you. “Don’t you tap out,”

He pistons his girth into your squelching, tight hole at an inhumane pace, your cries echoing throughout the hotel room. "Take this fucking cock baby, fuck- you feel so good 'round me."

His heavy balls endlessly slap against your asshole, manicured nails scraping against the skin of his back; leaving trails of crimson behind.

Sukuna growls at the feeling of you clenching around him, the bed creaking like crazy as you took him whole. His hands took a hold of your ankles as he pulled away from you, his cock entirely slipping out of your throbbing hole, and this time, he puts it into your ass.

You cry out loud; loud enough for the entire hotel floor to hear, "Ngh-, too big," your hand immediately slapping over your mouth to suppress any other noise. Sukuna found it difficult to thrust into your tight ass, his movements becoming slow, but deep.

Hips rolling into you passionately, he takes the camera behind him, gesturing you to hold it yourself. “Here, take this,”

With shaky hands, you reach for the camera, doing your best to focus on him fucking into you; from your view. His thumb grazes over your bundle of nerves, legs now on either of his toned shoulders. Sukuna kisses on your calf, before dropping an orb of spit onto his length, allowing it to be more easier for him to fuck into your asshole.

Pace momentarily speeding up, your body begins to jolt back and forth against the sheets; finding it difficult to keep holding the camera, beads of sweat dripping down his pecs, abs flexing with each thrust he forces into you.

The lens takes in how his cock disappears in and out of you, yourself faintly moaning at the sight. His hard cock stretching your asshole out, he sighs, increasing the speed of his movements again. Sukuna steals the camera from your possession, doing a close up on your two holes, one being fully stuffed with his cock.

His length glistening from the natural lubricant in your ass, he purrs out a grunt, "Where'd you want me to cum baby?" entranced by your holes sucking him in, he still was able to process your slurred words from below.

"A-anywhere.. your cock- it feels so good," you babble, your forearm covering your eyes as you began to sob; Sukuna quick enough to peel your hands away from your face.

He sucks some air through his teeth, swiftly pulling his cock out from your ass, letting his hot load out just over your folds; gliding his tip up and down to distribute the white evenly, using his cum as a lubricant to tease his cock back into your ass. “Stretched this cock whores holes out completely,” he shared with the camera footage, “Only I could do all that.”

Your feet gently kicks at his chest, doing him no harm— Sukuna’s cock resting heavily over your bare pussy, before he pans the camera at your blushing face for the last time.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me, happy valentine's!🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[novemberheart]

{overview} John realizes his mistake, you and Simon grow closer

{warnings} cursing, some angst, fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141

Chapter 24 <- Chapter 25 -> Chapter 26

“Pick up your bloody phone,” he growled. He paced around his office, his mind automatically jumping to the worst. Well, could you blame him with your history? “Come on sweetheart,” He pleaded on the other line. He had shown up exactly three minutes ago ready to pick you up for a lunch date off base, yet you were nowhere to be seen.

He paced back over by his desk, wondering if he should start calling in the boys to look for you. It was then he saw it. The world went silent beside his heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

“No,” he nearly whined, his chest clenching painfully. He cursed moving as fast as he could down the hallway without attracting too much attention. He was going to shred that folder and its contents. He actually found it a bit funny when he found it. He was so against you joining and now you were one of the most important aspects of his life.

He should’ve destroyed it right then and there.

He could only imagine how you felt right now. The man who you had deemed your alpha rejecting you from first glance. The man who you had shared your mind and body with. He felt sick. He ran into Kyle in the elevator. His honey eyes widened at his appearance, his hand reaching out gripping onto his shirt. “What’s happened?” He urged.

“I fucked up,” he admitted instantly. “I don't know how to fix this, Kyle,” he gasped. His own hands grabbing onto the beta.

“It’ll be alright,” Kyle soothed, his own heart pounding in his chest.

“I still had those profiles Kate had sent, the ones with omegas she thought would work with us. I was a bastard and crossed them out. Including our girl. Well, I almost crossed all of them. I left one be,” he swallowed back his nerves, his hands beginning to tremble. He had never had such a bodily reaction before. The thought of losing you too much for his nervous system to process.

“What do you mean you left one be? Like there was one you wanted?” Kyle pressed. John nodded slowly, before shaking his head- contradicting himself.

“It wasn't that I preferred her. Given her history she just seemed like the best fit if we had to pick one,” John explained. At the time it had made sense. He didn't know any of you and it wasn't like he had put that much thought into it. He wasn't ready for an omega at that time. He hadn't even sent the papers back to Kate; he just let them rot in the bottom of his file cabinet. You were also the one Laswell was pushing for. If he rejected you, maybe she would leave him alone about it. At the time it made sense.

The elevator had gone up and down a few times before they had finally gotten off. Vernie greeted them at the door, but John beelined to your room.

Your sobs were deafening. He wasn't sure if he had ever heard someone cry so hard.

And it was his fault.

He tried the handle but you had locked the door. Your sobs continued so you either didn’t hear him or you didn't care.

“Sweetheart, it's me. Let me in so I can explain,” he knuckles rapped against the door desperately. He heard you sputter something. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what you said. “Please, pretty girl. I know what it looks like, but please don't put any thought into it. I crossed you out just to get back at Laswell for pushing me to choose an omega. Please open the door,” he begged. Your sobs didn't decrease in the slightest, his alpha nearly throwing him into a frenzy.

“Can I come in, love?” Kyle spoke suddenly. You gave no response other than painful-sounding sobs. Kyle winced his hand rubbing over his chest like it would soothe the sharp pain.

“I love you,” John said. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready to talk about it,” his voice cracked. The alpha moved on shaky limbs to the couch, sitting with his head in his hands. He threw insults at himself quietly, before standing up again, making his way back to your door. “Please, honey, let me in. I need to see you,” he was back to desperation. His knuckles grazing against the door again.

“Give her time,” Kyle soothed, through his own gritted teeth. He couldn't understand how John had been so reckless. He had obviously left the folders in an accessible spot. You wouldn't just go snooping around. Kyle just hoped you didn't think he had anything to do with it.

It had been three hours. Your sobs had died down, making the house silent. That was almost worse. Kyle had talked him down multiple times from knocking your door down. The beta had to leave for training, leaving John by himself with his own thoughts. That had always been a deadly combination.

He had to relive it when Johnny came home, except the Scot wasn’t putting up with it. He grabbed a sharp tool out of his room, unlocking your door in five seconds flat. John stood up, but Johnny growled out a warning.

“Stay there,” he commanded. The alpha had no room to disagree with the burning beta. When they first met, John had assumed Johnny was an alpha based off of the way he carried himself.

“Peaches?” his voice was quiet and soft to not startle you.

“Go away,” you whined, making him wince.

“We had nothin’ to do with that, hen,” Johnny assured. He wasn't going to be in the doghouse because of the Captain’s mistake. Maybe on the field- but not when it comes to you. His hand reached out resting against your heated back. The emotional toll is already making you feel sick. You were burning up with a fever. “Come here, please,” it wasn't so much of a request as it was an order. You lifted your head up from the pillows, your raw eyes looking up at his. He whined low in his throat. His arms darting under your armpits, to pull you on top of him. You started sobbing again, the sounds hitting John on the other side of the door like a ton of bricks. You curled yourself against Johnny. You needed comfort, despite being mad at the world and everyone in it.

“He didn’t want me,” you mumbled sadly. “I called him alpha. I opened up to him. I trusted him. I slept with him. And the whole time he was wishing I was someone else,” you whined out. Johnny understood your hurt- he felt your hurt, yet he also knew that wasn't true in the slightest. John loved you madly.

“That's not true, Bon. He’s absolutely mad for you. He wouldn't trade you for anything or anyone. He had done it before he even met you, and he did it just to be obnoxious because Kate was pushing for you so hard and we weren't too keen on an omega- you know that,” Johnny reminded. You didn't want to be talked off the ledge. You wanted to jump. You wanted to be mad and be hurt without it being invalidated.

“But I wasn't enough to change his mind. Just one look at her on paper and she had him considering getting an omega,” you shot back. You tried pulling yourself away, wanting to find comfort in your sheets and not in the arms of Johnny. He didn't let you.

“Maybe for a split second, Bonnie. But if he had put any more thought into the situation he would've picked you. I know he would've,” Johnny reasoned. You weren't in the mood for reasoning.

“You can't prove that, Johnny. If he already had it in his mind that she would've been the better fit then I doubted I could've changed that,” your voice raised. John kept his ear against the door, his heart twisting painfully. “The only reason I was let into this pack was because Simon was hurt. He didn't care what omega Kate had picked for him as long as he could use them.” you had pulled yourself off of him, moving to a stand.

“Exactly! He didn't care which one he got. He didn't have his heart set on her bonnie. If he did he would've asked for her. You weren't written off because he didn't want you, you were written off because if he had approved you, you would've been flown out here the next day and none of us were ready for that yet. I know the reason you joined the pack feels like you were being used and you were. We’ll all admit that. But that's the world we come from, Bonnie. We are all puppets for our higher-ups to get what they want. They ship us off to the corners of the earth to fight in some war that no one, besides them, has reaped any benefits from. We are all being used in some way and you were too when you joined the pack. But I can promise you this, beautiful- and I can speak for everyone when I say we love you so fucking much. You're the best thing that has happened to us and we wouldn't trade you for anything,” he finished, his voice cracking at the last sentence.

You hated that his words made everything feel alright again. You still had lingering resentment at John and you probably would for a while- and every time you thought about it. But Johnny had made some good points- sincere points. Besides you had pulled a similar stunt with Simon not too long ago, and he managed to forgive you. You rested your head against Johnny’s shoulder, letting your body weight fall against him. You just needed some sleep.

You had woken up to a knock at your door. You were by yourself, but you could still feel the warmth of Johnny against the sheets.

“Come in,” you groaned. You needed water. It was John, carrying a takeout container of food. It was too dark for you to make out too much of him, yet you could feel the emotion dripping off of him.

“You need to eat,” He said softly. He flicked your desk light on. His beard was unkempt from him running his fingers through it. His eyes were so red and puffy, you were sure it was agonizing to blink. It hurt you to see him that way- yet you looked no better. His hand darted out, a natural instinct to guide you to your chair. You dodged away from him, sitting down yourself. He sighed, slowly sitting down on the edge of your bed. You remained silent. You didn't want to eat the food he had brought you- you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of taking care of you (like he always had), but you were starved, not having eaten since this morning. He remained quiet as you scarfed down your meal, his fingers picking at the calluses on his palms.

You closed it up, taking a few gulps of the water he had brought. You flicked the light back off beginning to get back into bed, until he grabbed you. You squirmed against him mumbling a few ‘let me go’s.’ He paid no mind holding you against his chest, his legs trapping you between them.

He buried his face in your neck, his grip on your constricting.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, making you halt. He sounded so small. He was no longer the booming alpha whose mere presence offered your protection and stability. Now he was afraid. Afraid that you didn't want him anymore. Afraid that you didn't want to be here. Afraid that you had regretted what had happened between the two of you. “I can't have you despise me, sweetheart. I just can't,” he whispered. Since you've joined he’s been discovering new things about himself every day. He was quicker to fall in love than he thought. He could be a good alpha to an omega. He was also weaker than he thought. If you had told him four months ago a little omega he was still getting to know could bring him to his knees so quickly he would’ve told you to fuck off.

His sad scent was seeping into you, softening the chilled edges of your heart. He was regretful, you could tell. You relaxed into him causing him a sigh of relief. “I love you,” he murmured. You didn't say it back and he didn't expect you to. “So much,” he continued.

“You didn't mean it, John,” you replied softly, your hand resting against his back. You may have forgiven, but you weren't going to forget so easily. He could tell by your tone. You could get in your head so easily. He supposed he could too. He pressed a kiss against your cheek, finally letting you go. You remained against him for a moment, before pulling away. He stayed solemn as he grabbed the containers off your desk, heading back towards the door. He paused by the door, resisting the urge to beg you to let him stay. To let him curl himself around you and make everything better. He settled for a quiet ‘goodnight’ the door shutting behind him.

He wasn't sure how you'd take the information. He couldn't imagine you’d be happy- he prayed you wouldn't be. That would be the ultimate jab.

“Sweetheart,” He greeted. You looked up from your phone, offering him a small smile. Things had been awkward between the two of you- not that you had had much contact since last night.

“We have a new assignment. Me and Kyle leave in two hours,” He explained. When your face fell he was relieved. What if you were just sad for Kyle? He chewed back the thought.

“How long will you be gone?” You questioned.

“Shouldn't be more than a week. It’s a fairly easy one,” he sighed. It was silent for a moment. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

“I’ll miss you,” you breathed. You started to pull away but he held you there. He just needed a moment longer.

When you saw Kyle you nearly tackled him over, your face smushing against his. He tried not to take it personally. You were still hurt. Feeling like you were second best and unwanted. He had to understand that. He was trying to understand that. Hopefully, his being gone will soften you.

“Come on pups, time for your walks,” Simon spoke, grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the counter and his mask. Vernie had learned that whenever Simon grabbed his cigarettes it was time for a walk. She wormed her way out of your lap, bounding over to the door. Simon attached her leash holding it out for you. It was dark out. The night sky making you think of your first kiss- then John.

You three walked along a walking path, Simon making sure to put himself between you and groups of jogging soldiers.

“Simon?” you asked. He grunted in response.

“How did you get over me not putting you down as my alpha? That must've felt like a rejection,” you questioned. While they weren't entirely in the same situation, you felt maybe Simon could offer you some advice.

“It did,” he replied bluntly. “But then I realized I hadn't been acting too alpha-ish to you. Then you heard me say all that bullshit that night so I didn't have any room to be upset at you anymore,” he explained, guiding you off to the side. He pulled out his cigarettes, rolling his mask up to his nose. You bit back a giggle. “I’m still surprised you weren't more upset about it,” he sighed. “At least not that you've shown.”

You would still think about his words- less and less over the past few weeks. You don't know why but they didn't burn you as much as John's actions had. Maybe it was because your feelings were stronger for John? Or maybe it was because you knew deep down Simon didn't mean it. But John's actions had confirmed a belief you had about not being good enough. You gasped softly. That was it.

“Confirmation bias,” you gasped. Simon narrowed his eyes at you. “John didn't think I was good enough to be in the pack- and I had already felt that way. That's why it still hurts so bad,” you explained your thought process.

“You need to get that out of your head,” Simon spoke. “It wasn't like we all sat around and discussed every omega and came to the conclusion someone was a better fit than another. The old man probably didn't even have his glasses on when he was skimming through the profiles,” Simon huffed. He knew his Captain. Every decision he made was well thought out and concise. If he had really wanted to pick an omega he would’ve interviewed each of you himself, made you fill out a ten-page survey, and discuss it with each member of the pack individually. Also, Laswell had sent the papers electronically, he had just printed off a copy to mess with. Probably after a rough mission and one too many whiskeys. The rest of your sentence finally hit him. “What do you mean not good enough?”

“Well, I mean you know,” you started, shrugging.

“No, I don't bloody know. That's why I'm asking,” he shot back.

“Kate has always said what an indispensable and vital pack you are. That's all anyone here talks about. Omegas come up to me all the time and ask what it's like to be a part of this pack, or how I got into this pack. Nobody believes I got in by just being myself,” you explained.

“They don't know you then,” he snapped. “Then they'd be askin’ why we were daft enough to go so long without you,” he pressed the rest of his cigarette out, grabbing another from the pack.

“Simon?”

“Yes, pup,” he sighed.

“Kiss me?”

He paused the cigarette still hanging between his lips, the flame just a few centimeters away. “What?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Please?” you breathed. Your hands reached out gripping the front of his jacket. His heart hammered in his chest, your eyes staring up at him wide and wanting. His hands covered yours, not making any move to push them off. He couldn't break himself away, his eyes holding yours as his head lowered. He stopped right in front of you, his lips brushing against yours. You stared back equally enthralled. You closed the distance, your eyes fluttering shut, as you pressed your mouth against his. He reciprocated instantly, pushing his head forward to deepen this kiss. Your hands moved up to hold his jaw and he quickly grabbed the leash from you not wanting it to get in the way of you touching him. Your hands cupped his face, pulling him impossibly closer, gasping when his teeth nipped your bottom lip. He smirked against you and you had half a mind to pull away as punishment until he backed you against a tree. You gasped his name, making him groan against you, his hands digging into the fabric around your hips.

He hoisted you up, his neck already growing sore. His kisses were exactly like your relationship with him. Starting off sweet, then a battle of teeth and tongue, then back to sweet before you could decide which one you liked best. You pulled away with a deep inhale, your lungs burning from forgetting to breathe. He ‘tsked’ softly, pressing kisses against your jaw.

“Don’t know how he didn't mark you, sweet girl. I'd be sinking my jaws into you the moment you’re under me,” he mumbled, his teeth nipping against your neck in emphasis. You moaned quietly, making him smile. He pressed one last kiss against your neck, setting you back down on wobbly feet. “Don’t look at me like that, pup. We’re in public,” he reprimanded playfully, handing you back Vernie’s leash. “Besides I’m not done playing hard to get,” he chuckled. Your phone buzzed in your pocket making you jolt. You pulled it out, seeing John’s number, pressing the red button before you really thought about it.

“The fuck was that?” he growled. “Call him back,” he urged. You quickly did as you were told, not quite sure why you had done that in the first place.

He answered immediately.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly.

��S’alright. Just figured you weren't in the mood to talk, pretty,” he cleared his throat. You wondered how much he had hurt in those seconds you denied his call. “Just wanted to let you know me and Kyle are where we’re supposed to be.” he explained.

“Good. Good,” you replied softly. You were quiet for a moment. “John, I love you. You know that right?” you breathed. You heard him inhale sharply on the other line, before clearing his throat again. You could feel yours constrict as well.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He breathed back. He needed that. He needed to know you weren't back home stewing at him. “I love you and I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”

“I’ll be waiting,” you responded, your eyes blurring at the tightness in his voice. “Bye.”

“Bye, pretty girl.”

You buried your face in Simon’s chest, wrapping your arms around him as you cried lowly. You wished John was back, so you could curl up in his arms again. You wished you hadn't given him the cold shoulder before he left. What if something happened while he was away and your last physical interaction was you worming your way out of a hug? His hug.

“Easy, pup,” Simon soothed. His hands smoothing over your back. He wanted to scold you for not answering the first time. He could only imagine how John was feeling after being shipped away while not on the best terms with you. It was hard enough when you were on good terms. “Need a cigarette?” Simon questioned making you chuckle after your crying had slowed. You shook your head softly. He kept an arm around you, beginning the trek back home. “Don’t worry about it, pup. You've got a lot on your mind. Sometimes people do things without meaning harmful intent,” he soothed. You caught the double meaning of his words, and you pressed yourself closer.

“Simon. What would happen if something were to happen to you out there and you couldn't be sent back to base?”

He sucked in air through his teeth.

“Well we would get to the safest spot we could and try to be fixed up enough to be sent back here,” he explained.

“What if you couldn't though? Be sent back here?” you pressed.

“What would you want to happen?” he questioned. He didn't want to put ideas out there you weren't comfortable with. The easiest way to get the answer you wanted was by making you say it yourself.

“I’d want to be sent to where you were. No matter where it is or how dangerous it is. I'd want to be with you,” you nearly demanded.

“That's why you were paired with us, pup,” Simon smirked. “You’re just as brave and stupid as the rest of us.”

Hi friends! See you in three days for chapter 26! 🧡

[ellieswrldd]

*.✧ arabella ✧.*

pairing: brother's best friend! ellie williams x f!reader

summary: the last time ellie saw you, you were sweet and innocent. now, a year has passed and you've grown up.

content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, a bit of angst, r has a tramp stamp (lower back tattoo) & is described to be a party girl, brief dry-humping/grinding, strap-on use (r!receiving), reverse cowgirl & doggystyle, praise & degradation, use of terms pretty girl & princess, ellie calls the strap her cock

a/n: very loosely inspired by that one ph video..iykyk! also, named after the am song bc i think it give the vibes i was going for teehee

The last time Ellie saw you, it was the summer before your freshman year of college. You were still rather innocent, not yet tainted by the bad behavior of others your age. You didn't party, kept away from alcohol and drugs, and preferred to spend your Friday nights reading in your room.

That was how she remembered you, her best friend's cute younger sister. She knew better than to get involved with you, honest to God, she did. The first day the two of you met, your brother had stated that if she were to get too close, she'd find herself with a black eye and a restraining order. But the last day before you left for college, Ellie found herself uneasy. She was nervous, nervous to be around you.

So when she found herself alone with you in your childhood bedroom, your brother stuffing your luggage into the car, Ellie felt herself losing her cool. It was an innocent kiss, sweet and meaningful. One that started when you began to pull away from her hug and looked at her with those beautiful doe-eyes. Her lips found yours with ease like she had been waiting for this moment. The sweet sigh that escaped you was what urged Ellie to pull away. She let her slim hands drop from your sides and turned away from you, awkwardly rubbing her neck. Ellie mumbled something along the lines of a 'sorry' and a 'goodbye' before going downstairs to talk to your brother. That was over a year ago when you were just nineteen. Now, you were back for the summer, excited to spend time with your brother after being swamped all year. You were different now, to say the least. Even though you were still funny and caring, you were far from the innocent girl Ellie once saw you as. You partied, you drank, and now you spent your Friday nights in the beds of hot girls who caught your eye. The morning after you arrived home, Ellie stumbled upon you in the kitchen. She was staying with your brother for the summer, and while she knew you would come home eventually, she didn't expect you to be so...changed.

You wore a fitted baby tee, cropped just above your navel, and a pair of snug, light-wash jean shorts that seemed to end right where your ass met your thighs. It was something Ellie would have never pictured you in.

You glanced at Ellie from where you stood in front of the fridge. "Oh, hey, Ellie," You greeted her softly, returning your focus to the contents of the refrigerator. "Y/n, I didn't know you were back." "Got in last night," You hummed, closing the fridge door with your hip. "Almost didn’t recognize you,” She chuckled awkwardly. “You seem..." "Sluttier?" You muttered. It wouldn't be your first, not even your third time hearing that one. It was a comment your old friends from high school loved to whisper to one another when encountering you on campus. "Older." Ellie rasped, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants and briefly looking down at her feet. "Hm," You shrugged and bent down to rifle through a cabinet under the kitchen counter. Ellie's breath hitched slightly when she caught a glimpse of thick, dark lines imprinted on your lower back when you bent down.

A tattoo? She thought to herself as a bright pink blush painted her cheeks. The old you would never get a tattoo, you were always scared of how permanent tattoos were.

"I think I'm going to go for a morning swim in the lake, want to join?" Your eyes darted over to her green ones as you asked. "I'll have to pass, maybe some other time," Ellie said. You shrugged and brushed past her to slip out the back door. Watching you walk down the grassy path toward the lake, Ellie groaned softly and turned to go back upstairs.

You weren’t the sweet, pure girl she once thought you to be. You were a woman now. And Ellie was fucking screwed.

~~~~

You found yourself on the couch with your brother and Ellie later that week. The sun was long gone, and the only sounds you could hear were the crickets in the backyard and the audio from the movie playing on the tv.

Your brother sat between you and Ellie, chewing loudly on popcorn and whispering little comments about the movie to Ellie as they watched.

You stared at the tv lamely, you eyes occasionally flicking over to Ellie’s face. She looked just as bored as you were, a little tense if that. Was your presence affecting her?

After the movie finished, your elder brother stretched his hands high above his head and yawned.

“I’m heading upstairs, you coming Ellie?” He asked as he stood from the couch.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She nodded and watched as he trudged up the stairs.

You flipped through the channels on the tv, purposefully staying silent as you felt Ellie’s eyes bore into you. It was the first time you two had been left alone with one another since your first morning back.

“It’s rude to stare, Els.” You mumbled as you put on another movie. You heard her take a deep breath and shift slightly.

“You’re fuckin’ killing me,” She whispered.

“Ellie—” You sighed.

“Listen, I shouldn’t have kissed you before you left. I know it was wrong.” Ellie interrupted. “But I don’t regret it, and I’m sorry for the pain I must’ve caused you.”

You turned to look at her finally.

“God, you’re such an asshole, Ellie.” You breathed.

“I know,” She said in a voice just louder than a whisper.

“After you kissed me, I lost myself a little bit. I was so confused and I didn’t want to even think about you,” You bit your lip. Every word you were saying was true, you didn’t want to think about Ellie, even just seeing your brother mention her name in a text made you think about the kiss.

You hated it, you didn’t want to think about the kiss because then your mind reminded you how she cowered away after. How she bolted the minute your lips parted. How the girl you had secretly pined after for so many years had simply left after kissing you.

It gave you a reason to drink, to party a little harder than you should’ve. You tried to forget, and you seeked comfort in the arms of different girls.

“And now, well now I’ve changed. I’m not that quiet girl who read on the porch while you did stick-and-poke tattoos with my brother beside me.” You laughed weakly. “I doubt that kiss meant anything to you, but it meant everything to me, and you fucking left without saying a word.”

Ellie stared at you for a moment, her mouth slightly open.

“You’re wrong,” She stated. “It meant so much to me, so much. It was shitty of me to kiss you then, but now that you know how I feel? I’m glad I did it. I would have talked to you and explained myself, I really would have, but I’m a fucking idiot, and I got scared. Does that make you feel better?” Ellie’s voice was a mix of a whisper and a shout as her wide eyes searched yours. Your breath stuttered slightly as you took in Ellie's expression. You had known her since you were merely ten years old when she was thirteen, and she had just met your brother. All those years of summers and weekends spent together, and you had never seen her look like this.

Her emerald eyes were full of need, love, and something else. Regret? Something like that. She looked thirsty, thirsty for your touch, your forgiveness, your loving.

Just like that moment a year ago, you leaned in your lips mere inches away from Ellie's. You felt her hot breath tickle your lips as she exhaled shakily. The sound of your brother walking down the stairs caused you to pull away from Ellie. He rifled through a cabinet, presumably looking for a midnight snack as you stood from the couch. Without another word, you walked past him and went to your room. You typed a quick message and sent it to Ellie. R: come to my room once my brother is asleep? E: I'll be there. Waiting for her was torturous, like waiting for a storm during a drought. Everything was on the table now after both of you completely spilled your hearts out of one another. Hearing that gentle knock on your door made your heart race. With a low creak, you opened your wooden door and tugged Ellie inside your room.

It was still girlish and organized from your high school years, tiny Polaroids and colorful posters littered your walls. It was home, like a snapshot of your old self. Ellie looked at you with an unreadable expression, her hands slowly finding their way to your waist.

“Tell me you want this,” She breathed, leaning her forehead against yours and closing her eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve wanted anything more.” You placed your hands on both sides of her face and leaned in to gently brush your lips against hers. It was just the ghost of a kiss, but as soon as it happened, it was like something snapped inside both of you.

Gentle, loving kisses quickly turned into ones full of fiery and heated passion. Ellie's hands roamed your body, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer to her. Stumbling backward, your legs hit the edge of your bed, and you tugged Ellie down with you. She giggled softly against your skin, pulling you to straddle her hips. "I've wanted this..." Ellie groaned softly as your teeth sunk into the sensitive skin of her neck. "For so long..." She whispered and let her eyes shut. Her hands gripped at the flesh of your ass, slowly grinding your crotch against hers. A sharp gasp left your puffy lips as the friction rubbed against your clit and sent a wave of pleasure through you. "My brother would kill you if he knew," You whimpered as her hands moved your hips back and forth against hers. "So don't let him find out," Ellie chuckled and brushed her calloused thumb against your cheek. "Stay quiet, and we'll be fine. Yeah?" With that, she dragged your clothed cunt across her own, letting out ragged breaths as the two of you needily ground your hips against one another. "M-More, Ellie," You whispered as you grasped tightly at the hem of her t-shirt. "What do you need? My fingers?" She squeezed your ass. "Well," You bit your lip and hesitantly climbed off Ellie. You knelt down to the side of your bed and grabbed a box from underneath your bed. Just about the size of a shoe box, Ellie looked at you with a questioning expression. "I have this, it's brand new." Shyly, you passed a thick purple strap-on to Ellie, your face hot as she glanced at it. "Have you...used one of these before?" She asked cautiously. Ellie was soaked at the mere idea of fucking you with a strap, but she didn't want to rush you into anything you weren't completely sure of. You nodded slowly. "Have you?" She bit her cheek and nodded as well. It wasn't surprising, Ellie had been popular with girls since the beginning of high school and was far from a virgin. "Okay, are you sure you want this? 'Cause once we do this, there isn't any going back." Ellie murmured as she leaned in close to your face. "I'm sure, Els." You kissed her softly and watched as she quickly stripped herself of her baggy sweatpants. Ellie slid the dark straps around her hips, allowing the strap-on to rest comfortably over her navy blue boxers. Effortlessly, she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor of your dark room. She chuckled softly when she caught you staring at her toned torso. "Can't fuck you with your clothes on, princess." Ellie grinned and glanced down at your flowy pajama shorts. You tugged your shorts off first, then your shirt came off, leaving you in only your panties. "Jesus Christ...what am I supposed to do with you?" Ellie mumbled as she watched you lay back on the bed and spread your legs for her. "Whatever you want," Ellie narrowed her eyes slightly, tracing over your nude figure. "Get up," You wasted no time obeying her command, standing up and waiting at the edge of the bed for her next instruction. She sat down on your bed, stretching out her legs and leaning against your headboard. Ellie pat her thigh. "C'mon," You straddle her hips, the dildo resting against your backside as you kiss her feverishly. Ellie took a deep breath and slid her hand past the waistband of your panties, and gently touched your sensitive clit. She brushed the tip of her middle finger along your aching slit, mouth falling slightly agape as her finger slid against your wetness. "So fucking wet," You gasped sharply and bucked your hips against her touch. "Bet you don't even need my fingers, already so wet for me, could probably just put the strap in right now," Ellie muttered against your ear as her fingers teased you. "P-Please..." "Please what?" Ellie cooed, her hands drifting to palm at the exposed skin of your ass. "Fuck me, please fuck me," Ellie chuckled and pat your hip.

“Turn around, pretty girl,” You bit your bottom lip and slowly turned your back to Ellie, your hips hovering over hers as you tentatively waited for her next instruction. "Look, you can see yourself in the mirror," Ellie grinned and pointed to the floor-length mirror in the corner of the room that was angled toward the bed. "Raise your hips and keep your eyes on the mirror." Your gaze drifted back to the mirror, one your brother and Ellie had put together for you many summers ago. The sight you saw in the reflection was wrong, it was all plain wrong. Your brother's childhood best friend aligning the tip of the strap with your entrance, your panties pushed to the side, and concentration painting her face. A choked moan escaped your lips as Ellie gently pulled your hips down onto the dildo. You covered your mouth with a shaky hand, a weak attempt at muffling the cries of pleasure that left you. "That's it, yeah, ride me, pretty girl," Ellie guided your hips, her hands splayed out across your ass, two thumbs aligning with the dimples of your lower back. She watched in awe as you began to follow her lead, slowly bouncing on her strap. "Takin' me so good- knew you'd be all ready for my cock," Ellie grunted. You felt her thumbs swipe back and forth against your lower back as she mumbled incoherent praises. "God, you're so sexy...fucking love this tattoo..." Ellie breathed heavily as she stared at the dark ink that painted your skin.

It didn't take long for you to begin moving without her guidance. Your slow movements turned frantic and needy while pleasure burned deep inside of you. You had been fucked with strap-ons before, but it had never felt quite like this. This was more than just meaningless sex. With each buck of your hips, each movement you made, the strap pushed against your g-spot and ever so slightly brushed against your cervix, stimulating all of the most sensitive spots inside of you. "E-Ellie-" You whimpered, reaching a hand behind you. Ellie groaned and quickly intertwined a hand with yours. "Holy fuck," She whispered as she looked over at your reflection in the mirror. Your breasts bounced slightly every time you quickly sunk down onto the toy, and your expression twisted into one of pure ecstasy. Not to mention, the way your ass rippled when the skin slapped against hers made Ellie nearly lose her mind. Everything was too much, and she could hardly decide where to keep her eyes, or her hands for that matter. Her large hands squeezed at the fat of your ass, digging her fingers into your skin. Then she slapped the flesh playfully, just enough for the sting to fade into pleasure.

"I-I'm gonna-" You gasped sharply as you felt a familiar tension growing deep inside you. "Get on your hands and knees. I'll get you there, princess," Ellie murmured. You nodded and did as she said, leaning forward into doggy style. Ellie paused for a moment to realign the strap with your cunt and to grasp at the waistband of your panties. Soon, Ellie began to thrust into you quickly and deeply. She dragged your hips against hers by the band of your underwear, pulling you back and forth on her fake cock like you were some sort of doll for her to use. A loud smack echoed throughout your bedroom when Ellie slapped your ass. You moaned into the fluffy bedsheets you were pressed up against. "My brother- he's gonna hear us-" You whined as you glanced back at Ellie with glassy eyes. "Don't worry about that, pretty girl, he sleeps like the dead." Ellie laughed softly as she plunged deep inside of you. "Oh! There! Right there!" You practically sobbed when she repeated the same movement over and over again until your legs were shaking. On the verge of your orgasm, your body buzzed with pleasure, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. "Mmh- Els, m'gonna.." "Yeah, cum for me princess, cum all over my cock." She whispered as her thumbs traced the intricate lines of your tattoo and her hips slapped against yours. One of her hands slid around your waist and moved down to begin quickly circling your clit. Ellie was desperate to get you off, she wanted to watch as you lost control of your body and experienced an intense orgasm. That was enough to push you over the edge, you screamed into the bedsheets as you felt your body stiffen and shake against Ellie's. Her thrusts slowed but didn't completely stop, as she wanted to prolong that climax as much as she could. Your senses were clouded with nothing but white-hot pleasure while you rode out the rest of your orgasm. After what felt like a few very long moments, Ellie slowly pulled out of you and sat back on the bed. She undid the straps on her hips and placed the toy on your bedside table. "C'mere, pretty girl..." She cooed softly as she gently picked you up and pulled you into her arms. Ellie lay with you in the bed, her fingers lightly tracing patterns along the skin of your back as she cuddled you. "You did so good, you're so perfect..." She said quietly. You hummed softly in response and closed your eyes. "You better get back to my brother's room, he wouldn't be happy to see you coming out of my room in the morning." "I know, but I'll stay until you fall asleep. Don't worry about me, princess." And for once, you listen to her. You focused on the heat Ellie's body radiated against yours and how peaceful you felt in her loving embrace. It felt right. --- tags: @asteroidzzzn , @ellabsprincess , @ximtiredx

[citricacidprince]

...Mable stuck with bill timestuck, you say? I wonder if that would go better or worse than dipper being alone with bill.

Here to mention that I somehow only noticed your signature when it was next to fiddleford, and thought you were (rightly) calling him a prince. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to connect the dots.

Haha you’re not the first person to mistake my signature for actual writing so dw you’re good lol!

And as for my thoughts of Mabel and Bill in a Timestuck AU,,,

I may or may not have written a drabble in a mutuals DMs a few years back about a confrontation between Mabel and Bill and the aftermath of it! I also may or may not have just fixed it up and straight up doubled the word count haha-

Since I’m feeling a tad bit brave I’m gonna post the drabble under the cut for anyone to read along with two doodles I’ve done for it, I only ask that yall be nice to me since I don’t write very often and know I ain’t that good at it hehe-

Also I’m not lying this is like,,, 4707 words… I got possessed to write this haha

Before I begin!!! Important!!!

Trigger Warnings: Choking/Asphyxiation, harm to children, minor descriptions of small cuts and minuscule amounts of blood, verbal planning of commiting a murder/killing

(if I missed any please tell me!)

With that out of the way here's my stupidly long Timestuck AU drabble that's been on my back burner for years! The only thing you really need to know is that the twins time-traveled back after Weirdmagenddon of their own volition. Dipper is with Stan and Mabel is with Ford and Fiddleford. Mabel has been staying with the two for almost a month now and Fiddleford is the only one who knows she's a time traveler.

With the stage set, please enjoy!

💫—————————————🚩

It’s late into the night, Mabel is tossing and turning and can't go to sleep. Her mind is spiraling as she overthinks and worries about Bill, her brother, her Grunkles, everything. So at about 1AM she decides that she’s not going to bed anytime soon and gets up off the living room couch which she has called her new bed while staying with her younger Grunkle Ford and Fiddleford.

Despite it being the dead of night Mabel thought it’d be a good idea to just make something food related in hopes it would tire her out. Also, she figured it would be a fun idea since she knows Stanford is most likely still awake and probably hasn’t eaten in a while. She could make him something easy and sweet, like a batch of cookies, and give them to him as a gift! Who doesn’t like 1AM cookies?! If she doesn’t have the stuff to make that, eh, she’ll figure it out and make something else!

A bonus to this is that if Ford says he’s not hungry, a bold faced lie, she’d use her sweetest and biggest puppy eyes until he ate some. Maybe she could even convince him to go to bed and not stay up till 4AM!

The brunette starts making a batch of cookies in the cover of night, making sure to have plenty enough for Fidd's in the morning, and putting her entire heart and all her worries into the mix in hopes the oven would ease away the stress weighing down her mind.

Sure it took a while, but it would totally be worth it to see her young Grunkle's face light up in shock at the sight of a warm batch of cookies shoved into his face and getting crumbs on his nerdy notes!

Right as she was finishing up wrapping up three separate plates worth of cookies in a napkin with a pretty little bow, for the ✨aesthetic✨ she happily told herself, she hears a pair of heavy boots walk into the kitchen.

The voice of her, now young, Grunkle Ford calls out her name in the quiet kitchen. Just as she had expected, he was awake.

Before the excited brunette could whirl around and surprise Ford with the 1-2 AM batch of cookies she lovingly went and made by hand, his low voice rumbled out, “Could you grab me a mug? One from the cabinet.”

He sounded a little funny, like he just woke up. Mabel smiled as she could already picture Stanford’s bleary and tired face as he goes to make a cup of coffee with the mug he’s asking for. She lets out a small sound of exertion as she pushes herself onto the counter since she’s too short to reach the cabinets otherwise and gingerly opens the cabinet so it doesn’t squeak and pulls out a mug. Based on the small cracks and worn paint on the ceramic it seemed a tad old, the faded words of ‘Backupsmore 1973’ barely legible.

Just as Mabel turns around, about to lightly scold her young Great Uncle for drinking coffee at 2 AM instead of getting some rest, a large hand wraps around her little neck. She didn’t even have a chance to scream as she’s suddenly slammed into the now closed cabinet, the air knocked out of her lungs and her head spinning from the impact, a loud sound of ceramic shattering on the wooden floor echoing through the kitchen and Mabel’s ringing ears

A fearful confusion consumes her mind as she, unsure of what’s happening in her dazed state until she catches a glimpse of Stanford. Gone were the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to, in their place were the sickly yellow slit eyes of a monster she knew all to well.

Bill Cipher.

“Shooting Star, there you are! I think you're getting a tad too comfortable around here! Let's fix that!"

Malice built in her throat as she spat out, her brows furrowed and her brown eyes glaring down his yellow ones, “Bill! You-”

“Ah, so you do know me! I assumed so, but wasn’t quite sure!”

The six fingered hand around her neck pressed a tad harder against the wooden cabinet behind her, making her wince from the pressure.

“Here’s the deal, Shooting Star, you’re being a massive thorn in my side.”

Her back was already aching from the impact of her getting slammed against the cabinet.

“Making Sixer second guess his trust in me with your insufferable kindness and child-like whimsy.”

Her sock-covered feet were slipping and sliding on the wooden countertop, legs uncontrollably trembling as her fingers gripped at Stanford’s large forearm in hopes of steadying herself.

“It was amusing at first but now it’s just annoying. So I need you,”

His hand tightened even more, making Mabel let out a sharp hiss of pain.

“Out of the picture.”

Mabel’s feet no longer are touching the countertop as Bill suddenly pulls her away from the cabinet, easily dangling her little body in the air and effectively hanging her. Panic instantly shoots through her and tears well up in her eyes as her airway is suddenly completely cut off, her little hands grabbing and clawing at her possessed great uncle’s forearm while her legs wildly kick at the air, too short to even graze against Bill’s chest.

Bill’s free hand raises up and idly taps his chin, as his musing over something indecisively, an wide and uncanny grin stretched across the possessed scientist’s face as he loudly questions, “Hmmm… how about… throwing you in the lake! If the water doesn’t kill you the cold air will!”

Mabel started to thrash around even harder, her heart pounding in her chest as fear coursed through every nerve in her body, her flight response in full gear as she tried over and over again to get out of Bill’s grip with no avail.

“Oooh! Or I could just tie you up and bury you in the snow! I hear frostbite is real killer these days!”

Blood was rushing to her ears; she could barely hear a word he was saying. All she could focus on was the panic bubbling in her chest and adrenaline pumping in her veins, screaming at her that she didn’t want to die.

It didn’t take long before her vision began to blur, her clawing hands and kicking feet getting more and more numb and slow with each passing seconds. She could faintly hear Bill say something about ‘throwing’, ‘roof’, and ‘classic!’ before she could feel herself almost completely clock out, vision fluttering in and out as her hand weakly claws at his arm one last time.

Just as she was about to give up completely, the polydactyl hand around her neck suddenly let go, sending Mabel unceremoniously crashing to the floor. She let in a large gasp of air, coughing her lungs out as air desperately tried to fill them once more. The brunette doesn’t even care about the small shards of broken ceramic cutting into her hands or shins, she was trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally start hyperventilating as drool and tears drip from her face to the floor with every sharp breath.

Mabel, disoriented and dazed, manages to glance up through strands of her long and curly brunette hair to see Ford still standing there with those disgusting yellow eyes, which were now staring off to space with annoyance clearly visible in his gaze.

"Geez Sixer, you chose the worst time to want your body back to 'test a new theory' huh?" He quietly mumbles under his breath, looking upset that his fun was being rudely ripped away from him.

Suddenly he stares down at Mabel, who was clutching her throat and panting heavily, brown eyes unable to stop crying. Despite this, despite all the pain and numbness that ran through her, she still found it in her to glare at the dream demon with as much animosity as she could muster while surrounded by ceramic shards and small prickles of blood.

"Well… we’ll just have to pick this up another time, won't we Shooting Star?"

The possessed body of Stanford Pines strolls towards the archway leading out of the kitchen, however before he leaves completely, he stops and whirls around with that same twisted smile Mabel vividly remembers seeing on her possessed brother’s face just a few months ago. "Oh, Shooting Star? Would you be a doll and clean up this mess? Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt now, would we?"

And with one final cackle he left, making his way back downstairs to Stanford’s study, presumably to make it appear like he never left in the eyes of the oblivious scientist, leaving the little brunet alone on the floor to lightly grip her neck, wincing at the bruise that's bound to appear the next day.

She stayed there silently for what felt like hours but was only just a couple minutes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins slowly but surely fading away as the feeling finally came back to her numb fingers and toes, relieved that she isn’t hyperventilating anymore and she can actually breathe.

She eased herself off the cold wooden floor, her little body trembling the entire time.

Despite the feeling of spite coursing through her veins for that awful dream demon, he was right…, she really didn’t want anyone to get hurt… So instead of immediately going to fix herself up she spent the next 10 minutes sweeping up the broken mug and getting all the broken shards of ceramic into the trash.

Curse her and her big heart…!

When she was done it was about 2 AM, and it was now officially time to check the damage.

Before she left the kitchen she made sure to put the plates of cookies into the fridge.

She didn’t really feel hungry anymore.

With a couple of winces and hisses of pain she managed to tip toe herself up the stairs and to the bathroom, making sure she didn’t accidentally wake up Fiddleford by stepping on a loose plank or opening the door too loud. Once inside she gingerly pulls out the old timey medkit from under the sink and sits on the floor.

Well, technically the medkit was modern since it was the 80s…

Wah, Mabel! Not the time!

With a deep breath she gingerly treats the tiny cuts gracing her hands and shins, trying not to cry as she disinfects each cut just like Grunkle Ford taught her to at the end of the summer, plucking out mini pieces of ceramic embedded in her skin with a pair of tweezer like how her Grunkle Stan had taught her at the beginning of the summer (note from her past self, splinters are never fun).

Cleaning and applying band-aids to the cuts was the easy part, most of the bandages would be hidden under her sweater and the winter pants Fiddleford had gifted her during her first couple days staying at the shack.

It was her neck that was going to be hard to hide.

Mabel stood up and got on a step stool to look into the minor, immediately wincing at the sight of her bare neck, dark purple was already creeping in and bruising every bit of her neck. The brunette leaned closer to get a better look and almost whispered out one of the many swears she had accidentally learned from Stanford while living here.

There was a hand bruised into her neck, and it encompassed her entire neck.

She gingerly touched her neck and winced at the dull pain. Guess she wasn’t going to take off her sweater for about 2 weeks now… just 1 week if she was lucky enough…

She tentatively took a step outside of the bathroom and tiptoed down the hallway again, trying to not make a single sound. Just when she got to the steps she heard a door open behind her, causing her to instantly crouch down and hope that she was far enough down the stairs that her body was hidden from sight.

She dared herself to peek just above the top step to see Fiddleford standing outside of his room, stretching and yawning before closing his door and walking towards the bathroom Mabel just left, making the 13-year-old let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to see her like this.

She knew she should probably tell Fiddleford what happened, but she just couldn’t. Maybe it was that childish fear of getting in trouble over nothing getting to her, or maybe it was the fear that her young Grunkle would be blamed for what Bill did.

Regardless, despite her better judgment, she kept her mouth shut and decided to hide her bruises from everyone else in the house, silently thinking of a way she could somehow protect herself from Bill.

She could practically hear Dipper yelling at her about how bad of an idea this was, but she was too shaken up to think of anything else…

So, she kept with the plan even as she shakily slipped a sweater over her large t-shirt she wore as a night gown and fell asleep on the couch, huddled in the corner in a ball as vivid nightmares haunted her fitful sleep, showing flashes of a possessed Stanford Pines throwing her off either the house or a water tower.

She woke up the next day to the warm smell of breakfast and the soft tones of Fidd's humming a tune in the kitchen, her body absolutely aching and a tad sweaty from the combo of the sweater and the fireplace keeping the room warm.

Mabel winced as she got off the couch. Yep… her back is definitely bruised.

She tentatively walked towards the open archway leading into the kitchen, silently calming her nerves and trying to put a smile onto her face. It helped that Fiddleford is making breakfast, she loves his food.

The kicthen was so empty when she first arrived but the southern man immediately starting keeping the place stocked when it was clear that she was going to stay there for a while. He also insistent on making her a meal 3 times a day since she was a ‘growin’ lil’ girl’. Because of her memories of Fiddleford being ‘Old Man McGucket’ were much more prominent in her brain it was easy to forget that he was once a father, but in those domestic moments when he doted and fussed over her it was clear that he was a good one.

Well, when he was sane that is…

She quickly shook off the bleak memory.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

She let out a low breath as a wide smile covered her face, her round cheeks rosy as she happily skipped inside.

Fiddleford perked up at the sound of Mabel walking inside, smiling as immediately spoke with a fond voice, "Ey there sweetpea, sleep well?" He idly glanced behind to see Mabel in her baggy t-shirt/sleep gown as well as a sweater on top of that, making him raise an eyebrow as he playfully asks, "Did someone get' cold last night?"

"Just a little bit." Mabel playfully replied back, unable to stop the wince that crossed her face at the sound of her hoarse voice.

Fiddleford, who was already done making breakfast, immediately whipped his head around at the sound. "Honeybee, are ya' alright?"

She lightly coughs into her fist a couple times and passingly remarks, “I’m fine, it's just morning gunk! Just need some water, haha!” Trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Fiddleford still had a suspicious look in his eye as he looked over the little lady before deciding to let her off easy with this one, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands while replying with a quiet, “Alright, if ya say so, sunshine…”

He quickly pours Mabel a glass of water and then grabs a plate of bacon and pancakes. “Fer you, made just how you like it,” Mabel sits down in her chair as Fiddleford places the glass of water in front of her and a plate of pancakes and some bacon that is extremely burnt. “Burnt in a volcano.”

The brunette drinks some water first, happy to note that it actually does ease the pain in her throat! After that she eagerly grabs a burnt piece of bacon and shoves it into her mouth, loving the way flakey black residue smears onto her fingers and the overwhelming taste of what can only be described as ‘BURNT’ fills her mouth. She muffles out, “It’s perfect!” In between bites as Fiddleford chuckles at her antics and makes himself a plate. “Yer such an odd lil’ duck, honeydew! Only kid I’ve ever met who wanna me ta’ burn their meal!”

Mabel immediately shoots back, pointing at Fiddleford with a mouth full of bacon, “Tahts cause ohther peowple are COWERDS!!!”

The lanky man lets out a full on belly laugh as he grabs his plate and sits at the table, the two beginning to talk about anything that crosses their mind.

Stanford wasn’t going to join them for breakfast. He’s usually asleep at this time or buried in whatever notes he was currently writing.

…Mabel feels a little bad that she's kinda happy he wouldn’t join them… Her throat feels like it’s constricting all over again at the thought of those sickly yellow eyes and horrid laughter…

At some point while eating, Fiddleford makes a joke that makes Mabel loudly laugh, the sudden shout of laughter causing her to wince and try to grab at her throat. She stops herself a couple inches short of the grab and quickly puts her hand back down, but the damage was already done.

Fiddleford, concern coming back at full force, puts down his fork and immediately asks with a concerned tone, "Honey, is ‘ere somethin' wrong with ‘ur neck?"

Sweat began to bead on Mabel’s forehead and she tried to immediately brush off the concern with a not so convincing, "Whaaaaat, psh, nah!"

He raises an eyebrow at the clearly nervous little girl. "Mabel, if yer' hurt I'd like to know."

She starts to fidget in her seat, fingers wrapping together and her brown eyes darting away. "Look, it's not thaaaat bad you don't gotta worry about it-"

At the confirmation that she is indeed hurt makes him sit up and shoot back, "Well tha' just makes me MORE worried bout it!"

Unable to come up with anymore excuses Mabel plays with a fork in front of her, eyes locked with her plate. Fiddleford let out a soft sigh and leans closer to the brunette across the table and rests his hand on hers, a kind smile on his face as he gently adds on with that fatherly tone that immediately made Mabel feel better, "Darling, it ain't gonna get better if ya’ don't lemme help. I promise I ain’t gon’ get mad, ya hear?"

Mabel tentatively glanced up at the southern man’s soft green eyes and could tell he meant every kind word.

So, despite her promising to keep her injuries a secret, she takes a deep breath and nods her head, gingerly taking off the thick hand-made sweater to leave her neck and bandaged up arms exposed to the world. The lanky southern man’s eyes seem to grow more horrified every passing second.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph-"

Fiddleford jumps up from the table, almost making his plate fall off while doing so, quickly rounding the table and crouching in front of the brunette with green eyes filled with so much worry and horror.

He found himself fussing over the girl who had easily wormed herself into his and Ford's hearts and found himself growing even more sickened at every bruise and cut he found, though nothing could compare to that sinking feeling of dread he felt looking at Mabel's bruised neck.

He cupped the brunette’s face and could feel tears well up in his eyes as he stuttered out a confused, "W-wha'..., Mabel wha' on earth happened-" His heart breaking trying to even comprehend what could have happened to her.

On the opposite end, Mabel could feel her heart swell at Fidd's fatherly fussing, but tried to brush it off the best she could, not wanting him to worry about her.

"I'm fine really! I just, uh… tripped down the stairs…? …Yeah! Didn't want to worry you, haha!"

Fiddleford, who suddenly stopped paying attention to what Mabel was saying, let his eyes looking closer at the girl's neck before they widened in a horrifying realization.

"I… Is tha' a hand…?"

A rush of panic suddenly runs through Mabel as she tries to come up with some excuse to throw him off, something, anything!

"Fidd’s it's FINE! I just… uh… wore a sweater that was too tight…?” Goodness she’s screwed, even she was aware of how unsure she sounded.

Fiddleford still wasn’t paying attention. Instead one of his hands lowered from her rosy cheeks and ever so slightly touched her neck with the lightest of touches. His green gaze was analytical as finger traced down the bruised skin, talking to himself so quietly that even Mabel almost didn’t hear him as he quietly began to count.

“One, two, three, four, five, s-”

The blond cut himself off with a sharp inhale through his nose as the look of worry that had previously graced the southern man's face suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a look Mabel had never seen on his face before.

It was a quiet anger. The kind of anger that's terrifying to witness as it bubbles from deep inside but you refuse to let it show on your face, even as your hands begin to tremble and your vision goes red.

Without saying a word Fiddleford stood up and stayed completely silent, unable to say a word for about 10 seconds while his face was blank and unreadable. Finally, Fiddleford looked down at Mabel and gave a kind smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Sweetie, could ya' stay here a sec? I have something importan' I need tha’… discuss… with Stanferd."

After finishing that statement he gently patted the top of her brunette head and walked out of the kitchen archway, turning the corner and heading up the stairs that lead to Stanford's room, walking with such silent intensity that it kinda frightened her.

After a couple moments of staying frozen in her chair she finally managed to shake off the feeling, realizing she had to stop Fiddleford! As scary as it would be seeing Stanford again after last night's… incident… she couldn't just let Fiddleford go confront Ford without the full story!

She sprang up from her chair and winced at the pain radiating from her back. Yep! Still definitely bruised!

Mabel rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She stumbles to a stop at the end of the steps as she sees Fiddleford standing outside Ford's door, just as quiet as he was downstairs. He raises his hand and gives a firm echoing knock and she could faintly hear her young Grunkle respond with a strong, "Come in!"

She hates that she shivers a bit at his voice.

She hates that she's a little bit afraid of him.

Fiddleford doesn't respond and instead just opens the door and then quietly closes it behind him. The door doesn’t close all the way which makes a sliver of light from Ford's bedroom/study shine against the floor in the hallway.

Well... Fiddleford hadn't broken any windows or started yelling, so maybe, just maybe, he's going in there to calmly talk out the problem with Ford? Well, that was more wishful thinking on Mabel's part. She HOPES they will just, talk it out, and no one will get hurt...

A loud crash and shout echoed through the hallway.

A girl could dream can't she?

Mabel sprints to Stanford’s door, tripping over herself the whole way, and yanks open the heavy wooden door as quickly as she could.

When she finally pries it open she’s greeted with the sight of Fiddleford in the middle of trying to choke out Stanford, while Stanford is leaning against one of his smaller wooden cabinets, pushing Fidds away (to the best of his ability) with his foot, clutching his very bloody nose in confusion.

Mabel rushes in and pushes the southern man away from her bleeding Great Uncle to the best of her ability but Fiddleford upon seeing Mabel finally backs off from trying to murder Ford, but the look of pure anger firmly remains on his face.

Ford looks at Fiddleford with pure confusion as he pushes himself off the small wooden cabinet, clutching his bleeding nose all the while.

"F, what on earth has gotten into you!"

Fiddleford stared back with his mouth agape, absolutely gobsmacked, before finally yelling back, "Wha'- what's gotten into ME?! What's gotten into YOU Stanferd Pines!"

Fidds pushed past Mabel and jabbed his finger into the brunet’s chest.

"She's a lil girl?! How DARE you even lay a FINGER on her!"

"F what on earth are you talking about?!"

Fiddleford roughly grabs Ford's shoulders and pushes him to look towards Mabel with a surprising amount of force.

"SHE'S what I'm talkin' bout! Stanferd Filbrick Pines who gave you tha' idea ya' had tha' GODDAMN right to even lay a FINGER on her-"

Stanford couldn't focus on the rant Fiddleford poured into his ears instead his eyes state frozen on the disgusting purple mark staining Mabel's neck.

"Mabel… who-"

Stanford knelt next to the sweet girl who reminded him so much of Stanley in his youth and felt a familiar pang in his chest. That feeling he'd feel whenever Lee came home covered in bruises. That feeling to protect… and to hurt anyone who dares to hurt them.

"Sweetheart… who did this? What happened?"

Fiddleford scoffed. "Ya should know."

Ford shivered at how cold F had sounded. Out of all of his years of knowing him, Fidds had never sounded like this.

Then the meaning of those words finally hit him.

Stanford rushed to stand up and looked back to Fiddleford's furious eyes with his own look of disbelief.

"Y-... You think I did this?"

Fiddleford's eyes didn't change in the slightest.

"Ya'. Ya' I do."

"We've known each other for years, we went to college together, I went to your wedding, you are easily my best friend. Do you honestly think I'm capable of doing something like this?!"

"I used ta'," Fidds crossed his arms. "Now I ain't so sure."

Ford didn't know HOW to feel. This felt like a betrayal but not in the way Stanley's felt. He also felt offended. And hurt. And so many other emotions that were swirling in his chest.

"How? How did you even get it in your head that I had something to do with this!? How could you look at me and even IMAGINE me hurting her?! I can't even imagine myself hurting her! She's-"

"Hand."

Ford froze from his rant.

"What."

"Yer' tha' only one who coulda' done it. How do I know? Hand."

"Ya' always go on an' on about the statistics of someone' being polydactyly. About how different ya' are."

"I want ya' to look at how many fingers are on that handprint on 'er neck, look me in tha' eye, and tell me who's most likely tha' guilty party."

Stanford froze, his face turning white at the realization. He didn't need to turn around and investigate the bruise on Mabel's neck. He now knows it had 6 fingers. When you put all the facts together, one thing is clear.

He IS the most likely person to have done it.

But there's a problem with that.

He DEFINITELY didn't do it.

He glanced back at Mabel, who seemed to be nervously pulling at her nightgown the entire time. After a moment she finally glances up, but after looking into his brown eyes for less than a second she quickly looked back down.

He didn't do it. He knows he didn't.

But if he didn't, why did she look so scared of him?

He didn't do it…

…Didn’t he…?

❔—————————————❓

Now this is a bonus doodle based on an idea I had for the aftermath of this! Stanford is stuck mulling over this in his room and when he finally leaves he notes that Mabel isn't asleep on the couch like usual. So of course he freaks out and assumes she ran away, running all over the house in hopes of finding her. He runs upstairs to Fiddleford’s room and knocks frantically on his door to get him to help him find the missing girl.

Fiddleford opens the door looking annoyed and tired. When Stanford says he can’t find Mabel and that he’s looked everywhere the southern man cuts him off by instantly replying “I know where she is.” That instantly calms down Ford but he looks confused as he asks “You do?” To which Fidd’s opens the door a little bit more to show Mabel asleep on his bed.

Stanford lets out a soft ‘Oh.’ And just stands there, looking awkwardly at Fiddleford for a moment before trying to break the tension with a weak chuckle and asking “Did she want to have a sleepover?” The blond doesn’t even hesitate to reply back, “Yeah. Because she’s scared of you, Stanford.” And closing the door on the brunet’s face.

Stanford doesn’t move for what feels like forever before he heads back to his room, feeling a little sick.

Anywho, I’m done now!!!

I’m happy and sorry you read through all of that, you can leave now! 💥💥💥

[spicysix]

📖 + "I think... I'm in love with (Name)" || "Congrats on being the last one to find out" prompt w eddie omgomgomg💗 also congrats on 400 angel <33

thank you my loveee 💖💖💖

here comes, hope you like it! (a little dialogue heavy, sorry for that!)

join the celebration!

every day for us, something new

"Gonna make some more popcorn, guys! Get the next one ready," you said, getting up from the couch where you were sitting between Eddie and Argyle.

"Get me another coke, please!" Robin, from the floor, asked.

"Oh, get me another beer, sweetums, will 'ya?" Eddie joined in.

"No one else ask me anything, I don't have hands for more!" you exclaimed before leaving for the kitchen.

Movie nights were routine at this point. After all the trauma and the babysitting and the saving the world, the least you all deserved were some fun nights chilling with your friends. Steve or Nancy would host, you'd all take turns choosing movies for the week, and you'd get together to watch and gossip and just be around each other in non-threatening ways. There was no bond like the one created between life-or-death situations.

Eddie's eyes followed you as you walked out of Steve's living room. Jonathan chuckled.

"What?" Eddie asked and Nancy and Robin groaned in unison.

"You are. So. Dense," Nancy complained.

"I don't think he's dense, I think he's just stupid," Robin completed. Eddie hated how she and Nancy came to sharing a single braincell lately.

"C'mon, let's take it easy on our brochacho. The matters of the heart aren't easy," Argyle said, words all considerate but his smirk was nothing but teasing, and Eddie wanted them all to just shut the fuck up.

There was a loud noise from the kitchen, and Eddie was up on his feet in an instant.

"Don't worry, I'm okay!" you called out before anyone could even say anything, to Eddie's relief, and he sat down again.

All of his friends were looking at him funny. What was this plot against him, honestly?

"What's going on?" he asked, waving his arms around in annoyance.

"Dude. Use a single neuron. You'll understand," Steve advised, letting out a dramatically exhausted sigh.

Eddie just stared back at them, one at a time, for several minutes. Trying to find the answers in one of his friends' eyes, or just hoping to be scary enough to make them tell him at once.

"I can't do this, he's the dumbest man alive," Jonathan said after a long while in silence.

What were you even doing in the kitchen for such a long time? Popcorn gets ready in like, five minutes.

"He's never been in love before, maybe he just doesn't recognize it," Steve pitched in, and he knew that information because Eddie had told him once.

What did it have to do with anything?

"What does being in love has anything to do with this? Who's in love here? No one's in lov-" he started, and then he stopped.

Thought about your smile, and that funny little laugh you saved only for his stupid jokes. The way you'd hug him tighter and longer than everyone else. The way you and Robin shared perfumes, a fragrance he didn't really like much, but on you he'd love - something about the way it'd interact with your natural skin smell, and it intoxicated him in the best of ways. He thought about how soft your skin was, and how he loved when you ran your fingers through his hair. He thought about how he thought about you first thing when he woke up, and he thought about you last thing before sleeping. How he thought about you even when asleep - how he'd dream of you, and him, your hands clasped together, your lips on his.

"Oh my god, I think I'm in love," he muttered.

"Congrats on being the last one to find out," Nancy answered. He just looked at her, freezing, hands trembling a little. "What are you thinking about so much, just go!" She nodded at the kitchen and, once again, Eddie was up on his feet in an instant.

He practically ran to the other room.

"Steve, your cabinets are a nightmare," you said, back turned to the door as you heard steps.

"Not Steve," he said, and you turned to face him. That smile, the one reserved just for him, on your lips.

"Eddie! Here to help me? Does anyone want something else?"

He just shook his head and walked closer to you. Took your hand on his, and your skin was just as soft as he thought about constantly.

"Is everything okay?" you asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, just came to a realization."

"Care to share with the class?" your words all teasing but your smile was nothing but sweet. He wanted to kiss you.

"I want to kiss you," he said out loud.

Your smile grew wider, "Well, do it, then."

And he did. And it was so much better than in his dreams. Yous lips were soft and tasted of whatever soda you were drinking, and your hands craddled his neck and you sure could feel his pulse going a million miles per second. But he didn't care, because you seemed eager for more, tongue poking at his lips and he let you in, and it was like fireworks exploding inside his head. He feelt fuzzy, and warm all over, and the happiest he's ever been. Because he's in love with you, he realized, and he was kissing you and you were kissing him back.

It felt like years before you separated, both panting a little.

"Oh, man, I like you so much," you mumbled, lips still almost pressed to his so he feelt every vibration in each of your words. It tingled him, head to toe, in and out.

"That's my realization," he responded, and you gave him another peck, and another one, and you were kissing him again when you heard steps behind you.

"C'mon, slow lovebirds, where's my damn popcorn? I wanna watch the sequel!" Robin showed up, picked up the popcorn bowl and her coke before leaving again.

You and Eddie laughed, and you gave him another peck, and another one, and you were kissing him again.

Neither of you got to watch much of the sequel.

[soursturniolo]

Scare • Matt Sturniolo

pairing: matt sturniolo/fem!reader

summary: matt and you handle a pregnancy scare.

tags: angst and then fluff, with some humor sprinkled in. happy ending.

tw: light discussion of periods and pregnancy

It feels like my heart stops as I look at the calendar on my phone.

9 days late. And I’m never late.

I noticed this morning that my box of tampons still sat in the cabinet, unopened, in Matt and I’s shared bathroom. I hadn’t thought anything of it, until I opened my calendar to see when my next dentist appointment is.

I swallow dryly as I lock my phone and slip it back into my pocket, dropping down to sit on Matt and I’s bed. All I can think about is that damn calendar. 9 days late. 9 whole days. One or two days is normal I guess, but nine entire days?

I can feel my thoughts spiraling already. Matt and I are safe. I’m on a good birth control and we use condoms often. But even those aren’t foolproof. I do remember forgetting my pill twice this month.

Oh god. What if I’m pregnant? I’m not ready for a kid right now.

Oh god, and Matt. Matt isn’t ready either. With his career and plans with his brothers there’s no way this could even work right now. It would ruin everything. I feel tears of worry and anxiety fill my eyes and begin to drop down my cheeks.

My thoughts just continue to spiral and spiral, until I feel the bed dip next to me. I turn to see Nick, who had stayed behind with me while Matt and Chris went out to pick up some groceries.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks concerned, his arm wrapping around my shoulder, pulling me into a side hug as we sat together.

I open my mouth to speak as my eyes meet his, but all that comes out is a sob. My hand moves to cover my mouth as more sobs follow. Nicks face creases in worry as his other arm wraps around me, pulling me into a hug as he rubs my back soothingly.

“Deep breaths, babe. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” he tells me, making me jerk back as I shake my head.

“No it won’t! He’s going to hate me!” I cry.

“If you’re talking about Matt, that kid could never hate you,” Nick tells me, voice calm and reassuring.

“I don’t know, Nick,” I laugh without humor, “this might.”

“Did you cheat?” Nick asks face calm, but apprehensive.

“No! God no,” I immediately answer.

Nick gives a small smile at the quick response.

“Okay, highly doubted it when I asked anyway,” he laughs, “but I don’t know what else could have you so upset thinking he’s going to hate you. You can talk to me, I want to help. What’s wrong?” He asks again.

I sigh. Nicks my best friend. He’s how I met Matt in the first place. I really wanted to just talk to Matt about this first, but with LA traffic and all Matt probably won’t be back for another hour. I don’t think I can survive another hour keeping this all bottled up.

“Nick, it’s bad,” I begin, voice shaken.

“I don’t care how bad, I’m here,” he immediately responds.

I take a deep breath.

“I’m late.” I state.

If this wasn’t so serious, Nicks reaction would have been funny. He stares at me blankly for a moment, before his head cocks to the side a bit in confusion.

“Like, to an appointment?” He asks, lost.

“No, Nick,” I sigh, shaking my head, “my period is late” the last part comes out like a whisper.

Once Nick connects the dots his jaw drops open a bit in surprise, confirming my feelings.

“See! It’s so bad, Nick, this is so bad!” I yell, jumping up from the bed and beginning to nervously pace in front of where Nick sits, still shocked.

“N-no, it’s not bad!” He stutters as he watches me with wide eyes.

I stop pacing and just look at him.

“Really? Not bad? Your jaw dropped open like that because you were trying to catch a fly, then?” I ask sarcastically.

“Listen, I just got confronted with the fact that my best friend and brother fuck, I needed a second,” he defends, hands up.

“Nick, we’ve been dating a year. We dont go to bed and play clash of clans together,” I tell him, making him roll is eyes.

“I know! I know but I also don’t think about it and now we kinda have to think about it and I don’t like it!” Nick exclaims.

“Don’t think about it!” I yell back.

We pause for a minute, staring at each other before we both crack smiles at how ridiculous this has become. We laugh and I return to sitting next to him. Nick wraps his arm around my shoulder again and rests his head against mine.

“So, how late are we talking?” He asks, getting back to the important point.

“9 days,” I whisper.

“Okay. Not horrible. Could be later,” he says, nodding. I nod too. A moment of silence passes as I nervously pick at my nails and Nick stares at the wall, thinking.

“Well, I think we know what we gotta do.” He says, softly.

I turn to him, knowing too.

“Let me call Matt, he should still be at the store with Chris. They can pick up a test,” Nick says. I take another shaky breath before nodding in agreement. I get my phone out and go to Matt’s contact, dialing his number before handing my phone to Nick.

“Hey baby,” Matt’s voice comes through the speaker softly.

“Hey, it’s Nick,” Nick says, earning a confused noise from Matt.

“Nick? Why do you have her phone? Is she okay?” He asks quickly, his concern making me smile softly despite the stressful situation.

“Um,” Nick pauses, which only worries Matt further.

“‘Um’, isn’t a good answer when a guy asks about his girlfriend, Nick,” Matt responds quickly.

“Sorry, she’s okay, but we need you to pick up something else for her while you’re at the store,” Nick says.

“Okay, what?” Matt asks.

Nick looks at me, encouraging me to speak. I take a breath before taking the phone out of Nicks hands, taking it off speaker and holding it to my ear.

“I need a pregnancy test,” I tell him softly.

I cringe as there’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay, I can grab that. Do you need anything else, sweetheart?” He asks softly. I smile again despite the tears I can feel coming again.

“No, that’s it,” I whisper.

“Okay, we’ll be back soon, I love you,” he tells me.

“Love you too” I say back before hanging up.

Nick and I move downstairs, where he puts on a movie for us to distract us while we wait. I let myself be pulled into its predictable plot line as we wait for Matt and Chris to come home.

We both are startled out of our focus on the movie when we hear the front door unlock, followed by it opening to reveal Matt coming in with a mostly empty plastic bag in his hand, while Chris came in carrying the other groceries. Nick moves to help Chris and grabs some of the heavier bags from him, both of them walking to the kitchen while Matt walks over to me.

I stand as he meets me by the couch. He looks surprisingly calm, while meanwhile I feel like my insides are shaking with the anxiety I’m feeling right now. He gives me a small smile before wrapping me in his arms. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I relax into his arms, resting my head against his chest. He gives me a gentle squeeze as I feel him press a kiss to my head.

“Let’s head to my room, baby,” he whispers, pulling back from the hug and grabbing my hand to lead me that way. Once in his room, he hands me the bag with the pregnancy test in it before sitting on his bed. Before walking to our bathroom, I pause.

“Matt, I need to know what this will mean,” I tell him.

He gives a small smile and holds his hand out to me. I walk over and grab it. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, before bringing it up to lips to give it a kiss.

“We’ll do it together. Whatever it is. Sure, I thought kids would be later. But, if now is the time, now is the time. I think I’d be more freaked if this was with some random girl. But with you? I know whatever happens, we will be just fine,” he tells me, before giving the back of my hand another kiss.

“You promise?” I ask.

“I swear,” he tells me.

I smile and nod, before heading to the bathroom. The test is quick and easy, and I’m soon done. I leave the test on the bathroom counter, set my timer for fifteen minutes, and come back out to sit next to Matt on our bed. I rest my head on his shoulder as Matt wraps his arm around me. We just quietly sit, both of us lost in our thoughts as we wait, only to be shaken out of our trances by my phone loudly going off.

I sigh as I stand and walk back to the bathroom to grab the test. I pick it up, careful to not flip it over to show the result, and walk back out to Matt. I stop in front of him. He gives me another reassuring smile as his hands come up to rest on my hips.

“Ready?” I ask, voice cracking.

“Yeah, baby,” he says.

I take a deep breath, knowing this small test in my hand could change everything for the both of us. But I look at Matt, looking up at me with so much warmth and comfort in his eyes, and it’s not so scary anymore.

I flip the test over, both of our eyes moving to see the result.

Negative.

“It’s negative!” I say, laughing. He smiles too, standing and pulling me into a tight hug. We both rock back and forth as we hug, feeling relief. We pull back from the hug and Matt kisses me softly. We both smile into the kiss.

After we part, we walk hand in hand out to the living room where Chris and Nick both sit. They both give us smiles when we walk in.

“So, are we going to be uncles?!” Chris yells, practically bouncing on the couch in excitement.

Matt rolls his eyes, shaking his head while I laugh.

“No, it’s negative. My periods just late, that’s all. It happens sometimes,” I tell them, almost feeling bad when Chris pouts a bit.

We spend the rest of the night laughing and watching movies together, Matt holding me snug in his arms. That night when we go to bed, Matt says something that surprises me.

“Is it bad that I was just a little disappointed?” He asks me softly.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well, when you first called and asked for the test I was freaking out on the inside. But then I talked to Chris a bit and the whole drive home I thought about it. And then I thought about a little us, a mix of you and me. And as life changing as a kid right now would be, I got excited,” he says, voice soft and quiet.

I smile, leaning in to press my lips softly against Matt’s.

“We’ll have a little us someday, just not quite yet.” I tell him.

“You promise?” He asks.

“I swear.”

[ginkgo-phyta]

Can I request Spencer (later seasons, post prison era) gifting his gf an initial necklace, but the pendant is his initial?

i.e.

"This is nice, Spence, but my name doesn't start with an 'S'."

"Yeah, but mine does, and you're mine."

Feel free to take it as far as you like 😏

A/N: ehehe yes ofc, i love thissss, but also a lil funny bc my name DOES start with an S :P so imma change the dialogue a bit. keepin dis sweet- there is a lil steamy moment for like two sentences however mostly this is fluff, hope you enjoy it, my love!

Fluff, no warnings (?), gender neutral language (im p sure, lemme know if i missed something!), 2.5k words

Spencer’s apartment is flooded with the music of joy; light jazz pours from an old style radio in the living room, your shared laughter tumbles into the rest of the place from the small kitchen, the sound of knives and forks scraping decorated ceramic plates signals the end of a well-enjoyed meal.

It was date-night for the two of you, a rare occurrence as of late due to Spencer’s teaching commitment. Initially, you were excited, thinking you would be getting more of him to yourself. You kept that thought to yourself, though, seeing how upset he initially was at not being able to help his team in the way he wanted to. That exhilaration was shut down particularly quickly as Spencer had begun bringing his work home with him. When he was working only as a profiler, sure he’d be away from you most of the time, but when he came home he’d spend all of his time present and in the moment. Now, at times, having him home almost felt worse than when he’d be away.

In the moment, however, everything was perfect. This is how you wished every night could be. The two of you bumping shoulders as you both prepare dinner; glasses of wine clinking with a cheers; old love songs serenading your flushed ears as Spencer pulls you into his arms to delicately waltz around the kitchen; his balmy eyes peering down into yours, speaking words of love and comfort. This serene feeling of domesticity was addicting. Life had been a whirlwind the past year, with it only being about six months since Spencer came home from prison. Things were jarringly different at first, both of your lives changing the way being wrongfully imprisoned changed Spencer, but you didn’t care. You could fight every battle life threw your way as long as your beautiful boy was by your side. Some days were more difficult than others, when Spencer would be reminded of the atrocities he witnessed in jail or what he had to do to survive. He’d isolate himself, snap at you, or push you away; but this evening was a good night- it almost felt like you had your old lover back.

“Dinner was delicious, angel.” Spencer beamed at you from the other side of his compact dining table, using his cloth napkin to wipe at the corners of his lips. 

“Well,” you chuckled, pushing out of your seat to collect both of your plates, “you helped me, that’s probably why.” 

Spencer quickly followed your movements, whisking the dishes out of your hands with a sweet kiss pressed to your cheek before taking them to the sink. “It was all you, beautiful.” he had whispered against your skin while leaving your side. 

You silently shook your head, picking up your wine and water glasses to be washed. “Should I dry?” you questioned as he turned on the faucet, pulling a tea towel from the cabinet below you. 

Spencer shook his head, “It’s okay, they can air dry.” he spoke with a little shrug.

“Okay!” you responded bright-eyed, throwing the towel down onto the counter next to you, a bit too excited at the prospect of not doing anything. Your reaction peeled an infectious laugh from Spencer's beautifully cerise lips, his nose scrunching involuntarily. You could stand there and just watch him exist for the rest of eternity. 

And you did just that for a minute, took in the sight of him humming along to the jazz standard wafting in from the other room, engrossed in scrubbing the food stuck to the pans you cooked in. His jawline and upper-lip were shadowed in scruff, trailing down the sides of his Adam’s apple. His hair was long now, wavy and pushed back from his face, exposing his strong forehead and giving you unrestricted access to gaze into his gentle cinnamon eyes. The years passing changed his appearance in so many ways, and you loved every bit of it. Your eyes trailed down to graze over the top of his chest, exposed by the first few buttons of his deep cerulean shirt undone; they moved over the slopes of his broad shoulders, and down to his arms working steadfast to clean up the remnants of your meal. It didn’t escape Spencer how you were drinking him in without a care in the world, paying no mind to his elbow occasionally bumping into your torso.

“You having fun there?” he teased with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes never leaving the task at hand. His words spurred you forward. 

You simply hummed in response as you moved to stand behind him, your front pressing firmly into his back. Spencer’s eyebrow arched questioningly, but he kept his mouth shut, simply letting you do as you pleased. Your head peeked over one side of his arm, hands sliding down until they reached the cuff of his sleeve. Deftly, you began folding them up, “Just helpin you,” you mumbled as a throwaway explanation, moving to his other side to do the same. Fingernails scratched at his newly exposed forearms, your muffled giggle turning Spencer’s smirk into a wide grin. “Done!” you announced, wrapping your arms around his abdomen before nuzzling your face into his broad back. Over the barrier of fabric, the running water, and the sound of his scrubbing Spencer barely heard you ask, “Didn’t I help so much?”

His chuckle sent vibrations into your cheek, “Yes, honey, you were a big help. Thank you.” Content, you pushed your face further into his shirt. 

The two of you stood like that for a few more minutes, Spencer trying his best not to move too much in order to keep you comfortable. You haven’t back-hugged him like this since before he was framed, and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until this moment. He washed the dishes a bit slower than normal, reveling in the heart-warming scene. Soon, however, he was done. 

As soon as he turned off the water, you were off him, moving to pick up the once-forgotten tea towel and face him, leaning against the edge of the sink. “Thank you for your service, soldier.” you unseriously saluted before taking each of his dripping hands in his and patting them dry. 

A titter broke through his smile as Spencer reverently gazed down at you, the way your eyes twinkled under the soft-yellow lights of his old kitchen, your beautiful hands turning his own over to attack any remaining droplets of water, your eyebrows twitching reflexively here and there in focus. The first time he laid eyes on you all those years ago he was shot in the heart by Cupid’s arrow, and it has stayed there, firm in place, ever since. 

As soon as you were done, Spencer softly cupped your face in his palms, your fingers wrapping around his wrists as he tilted your head up to look at him. He leaned down, pushing a passionate, yet gentle kiss onto your mouth. Before you could deepen it, he pulled away just enough to mumble, “I have something for you.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you looked up at him in confusion as he pressed one more peck to your lips before moving into the other room, your hands chasing after him. Once his words processed in your brain you perked up, excitedly following behind him.

“You got me a gift?” You question, reaching where Spencer stood at the side table by the front door, right in front of the intricate, gold trimmed mirror you hung up just last week. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched Spencer pick up the weekly newspaper, “Uh, you got me the…local paper?”

With a roll of his eyes, Spencer wordlessly pulled you to him by the waist, mimicking your earlier actions by pressing his front into your back. You stumbled a bit, catching yourself by grabbing onto the forearm wrapped around your torso, holding you up, Spencer’s fingers digging into your waist. You peer at him curiously through the mirror before he whispers in your ear. 

“Look,” he motions down with his chin, and you do as you’re told. Spencer moves the haphazardly folded newspaper to the side, revealing a glimmering deep emerald velvet box. From the size of it, you could tell it was some jewelry other than a ring. You gasped in shock, not even having seen its contents. “Spencer…” your voice was meek and unbelieving. 

He watched you through the mirror, his cheek pressed against your temple as he opened the box before you. Your alluring eyes widened to their limits, hands flying up to cover your mouth. Your gaze whizzed to meet your lover in the reflection, “You got me a necklace??” your words dripped with incredulity. Spencer had gifted you generously in the past- rare books, handmade accessories, clothing you had your eye on, tickets to see your favorite artists live- but never before had he bought you jewelry. You never minded, content with wanting the first piece he gives you to be an engagement ring. That being said, this surprise moved you immensely. You took in the gorgeous necklace shining proudly up at you. A dainty chain in the metal you wore the most, in the middle sat a heart-shaped locket, no bigger than the tip of your pinky-finger. Before you could speak again, Spencer shifted to open the locket for you, revealing two pictures. One was older, taken at JJ’s wedding; Penelope had been going around taking photos of everyone and as soon as she neared the two of you, Spencer scooped you up into his arms as if you were the bride. The moment frozen in time showed you in the midst of a bellowing laugh, clutching to Spencer’s shoulders in shock, with your boyfriend looking upon you as if you were an angel incarnate, an equally wide smile plastered across his face. The second photo was more recent; you had invited the whole team out to a picnic brunch shortly after Spencer was released and this time Emily was the one taking candid photos. The two of you were cozying up at the edge of the yellow gingham blanket, Spencer's arms wrapped tightly around your figure rested between his legs. In the photo, his hand was cupping your jaw, tilting your face up to bring your lips close to his, the snapshot proudly showcasing his grinning mouth just centimeters from your own with the sunlight stretching out in the background. 

“Oh, Spencer,” you were at a loss of words, your fingers hesitantly tracing the silhouette of the pendant, “It’s so beautiful, my favorite pictures…” you murmured. 

Spencer hummed and nodded in response, setting the box down to take the necklace out of its confines. He straightened behind you, stretching the necklace out in front of your face, “Let me put it on you, baby.” he whispered, mouth barely moving. 

You happily obliged as he brought the chain closer to your neck, moving your hair to one side to better allow him to clasp it behind you. Spencer watched you the whole time through the mirror while your eyes were fixated on the necklace. The cold metal of the locket hitting your warm skin caused a minuscule gasp to part your plump lips, but Spencer noticed it all. The way your chest rose and fell faster, chasing after your quickened heart; the way you drew your bottom lip in between your teeth; your uncertain hands grasping at his trouser legs behind you. Once the chain was secured, the locket resting perfectly in the dip of your collar bones, Spencer placed soft, warm kisses to the exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, holding eye contact with you with each; even as he moved your hair to dutifully pepper the other side. You sighed as his arms returned to engulf your waist, tighter than before, your hands moved to rest on top of his. He noticed your eyelids flutter close just for a moment, taking him in, before they opened again and your gaze shifted back down to the reflection of the necklace. Your eyes glinted with uncertainty upon noticing the engraving on the locket you hadn’t fully processed earlier. 

“‘S’...” you spoke, reading the letter dangling from your neck. You kept your inflection steady, trying to make it seem like you knew exactly what it stood for, but Spencer knew you better than that. Before you could make any assumptions, he spoke up.

“For ‘Spencer’.” he stated matter-of-factly, his face moving up from your shoulder to rest against your temple again. 

You smiled at him, more confused than before, “But aren’t you supposed to put my initials on it. You know, cuz it’s my necklace?”

“No,” he murmured sternly against your hair. Spencer’s left hand slipped down to grab onto your right hip, his right hand traveling up your sternum to thumb over the locket before splaying out to rest just below your throat, the heart pendant resting on the back of his hand.

Another, louder gasp sucked through your lips as Spencer tugged you closer to him, your back arched a bit as it stretched, bum pushing into his groin. 

“I put my initial,” he started again, heading dipping down to mouth against the shell of your ear, his eyes looking at you in the mirror through his cocoa lashes had you biting your lip, “Because you’re mine. And now everyone will know it.”

Suddenly, you whipped around in Spencer’s arms, throwing your own over and around his neck, hugging his body close to yours. He stumbled back a bit in shock, grabbing onto your lower back to steady himself before a laugh shook through his shoulders. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you enthusiastically repeated, pressing kisses along his stubbled jawline with every word. “I love it so much, Spencer.” you pulled back all the way to stare up at him, gaze filled with genuinity. One of your hands remained on the back of his neck, the other coming down to fiddle with the locket, “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” 

His previously mischievous demeanor melted off his back as Spencer drank in how you dripped sweetness. “I’m so happy to hear you say that, honey.” His hands rubbed up and down your back. “I know things have been…complicated lately. I’ve been distant and cold, which I want to apologize for, but you’ve been beside me through it all. You’re my rock, and I just wanted to show you a bit of my gratitude.” 

You shook your head as you pushed up onto your tippy-toes to kiss him again, the hand on your locket moving to lightly scratch at the side of his neck.

“I’m all yours,” you muttered against his lips, tilting your head to the other side to slot yours upon them again. You pulled away after a couple seconds, “You don’t have to thank me, my love. I know you would do the same for me.” You pressed a few more kisses to Spencer’s supple lips before pulling back again, causing him to huff. “Are you mine?” you whisper.

Innocent doe-eyes coupled with a small pout had a quiet groan dragging from Spencer’s throat. He brought a hand up to trace your bottom lip with his thumb before tangling his fingers in your hair, 

“I’m yours, baby.” he nodded. “Only yours.” With that, he pulled you back in for a sensual kiss.

A/N: omg sorry if this sucks im so sleepy right nowwwww it took so long to write this for some reason i cant process words properly but i wanted to finish this! i loved writing this piece, and i hope y'all like reading it. ANON! how'd i do?

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - The Box™

The idea of the TV comes from @ancha-aus and it was too funny to be left in a reblog, so I had to write it :D

First

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ALSO because I forgot to say it in the first drabble- Nightmare doesn't have his tentacles summoned because it's a waste of space and it makes his back hurt so he only summons them in very rare occasions

Dust woke up with the sound of metal kitchenware falling on the ground. He sighed.

- Please be a cat...

He pushed the covers aside, grabbed his jacket, put on his sweatpants, and walked to his bedroom door, stopping right before grabbing the handle. What if he went back to bed ? He heard metal clanking.

- Oh for God's sake.

He opened his door and was met with Cross holding Killer by his arm, the roman was sitting on the ground and holding a fork in his hand, the other kitchenware laying on the ground with the drawer they were previously in being opened. Dust stared at the two, and they both stared at him. It was nine am. Dust didn't want to deal with that at nine am. He turned to Nightmare to ask him if he could tell Killer to stop looking through his stuff but he stopped himself when he saw that the noble was still sleeping. Strange, he thought that nobles woke up early ? He was almost ready to see him judging him for sleeping in to be honest, but it seemed that instead he was the last one still asleep as Dust could see Horror looking at them from outside. Right, he should probably go open the door for him, not sure the viking knew how to open a sliding door.

He let Horror in and closed behind him, he saw Cross letting go of Killer who quickly assembled all the kitchenware to put them back in the drawer, because looking was a thing but making a mess was another, and Dust was his host, it wouldn't please the gods if he made a mess in his host's house. Dust was really wondering how Nightmare managed to sleep with all that noise.

- So, uh... ya'll slept well ?

As expected, none of them understood. Dust went to grab his phone that had finished charging overnight and went back on Google Translate, using the vocal command for French and Latin and letting Horror read the Old Norse as there wasn't any vocal sample for that. They all nodded.

- Good. Well.. I'll just make myself some coffee, and uh.. and we'll see from there, I need coffee first.

He declared as he went to the kitchen.

- Move.

He said to Killer, pointing at the livingroom. The roman looked at him for a minute before understanding and going back to his corner in which he apparently installed the lava lamp to make it more cozy. Dust sighed and turned the coffee machine on while he opened the cabinet above the sink, but before he could climb on the counter Horror grabbed a cup, by simply lifting his arm, and handed it to him. He didn't notice him following him.

- Oh, uh.. thanks ?

He said, quite confused, but took the cup to pour the coffee in it. Did Horror do that because he felt bad about last night ? He had made thumbs ups, he thought he would have understood it meant no hard feelings... well, at least he didn't have to climb his counter this time.

He looked through his cabinets as he sipped on his coffee, he was low on food, it was enough for him but he had five mouths to feed now, and what he had clearly wouldn't suffice. He'll need to go grocery shopping, which meant either take them with him or leave them alone in his apartment, and he didn't like neither options. He couldn't take them with him though, because monitoring them here was a thing, they couldn't go too far, didn't have much to do, didn't have to worry about people, but monitoring them outside ? In the middle of a crowded store ? When no-one spoke their language and they surely didn't even know what a store was ? Dust would die from stress before he could grab a cart. Plus he didn't have any clothes to lend them, the only ones being roughly his size being Killer and Nightmare, but he doubted Nightmare would agree to take off his fancy clothes and Killer didn't seem to know what pants were and Dust really didn't want to dress him up. He also didn't have the money to buy them all a new set of clothes, so he'll have to leave them here. Maybe he could put on a movie for them to watch ? That would keep them untertained.

He put his empty cup in the sink and went back to the living room to look through the drawers under the TV, searching for long movie so he would have time to shop in peace. He had a five hour long movie about the French Revolution but he doubted it would have been a good thing to show Nightmare, he didn't want to give him, well, nightmares, so he eventually settled on The Lord Of The Rings, which was three hours long, with the shop being fifteen minutes away, that left Dust with two hours and a half to shop, which was more than enough.

He got up to put the DVD box on the table and noticed that Nightmare had woken up and sat up straight. Saying that he looked disoriented would have been an understatement, his mind was clearly foggy. Dust checked the time, it was almost ten, Nightmare must have been exhausted to sleep that late. He went on Google again, just in time for Nightmare to speak, still sounding quite sleepy.

- Pourquoi ne pas m'avoir réveillé... ?

He asked. "Why didn't you wake me up ?" The translation said.

- Why would we ? You were tired, so you slept, 's as simple as that.

He answered, using the vocal command so Nightmare could hear it in French. He looked up at him confused, like he didn't understand that sleeping was made to rest when tired and not just to pass the night. That made Dust wonder at what time he usually woke up ? Surely around seven am, when the sun rises. Did they have alarm clocks at that time ? Or did his servants, because he surely had some, wake him up every morning ? Did he ever sleep enough by the way ? Maybe that would explain why he slept in and why he got so confused on why they didn't wake him up. Well, good for him, Dust thought, at least he got to rest.

Dust looked at the time again. If he went to the store now he would come back near one pm, so he would have time to cook and they could eat between one and two pm, which wouldn't be too late, and he would have the afternoon to make more researches.

- Okay everyone here !

He called, gesturing for the four to come closer or simply listen to him.

- I'm going to grab some food, so you will stay here and watch a movie on the TV while I'm gone, do not make a mess and do not fight.

He first translated in into French, then into Old Norse, which had some words missing because they didn't exist in that language, such as TV and movie, but Horror still understood that Dust would be out, probably hunting, and they had to stay here and be calm. Dust looked at Nightmare, waiting for him to translate for Killer, Cross having understood the general idea already. Nightmare rubbed his eye and focused for a bit before coming up with a translation, not knowing either what a movie was, but he figured the "TV" was this big flat black mirror behind Dust.

- Emit cibum et rogat nos ut hanc nigram cistam videamus dum abest.

Dust wanted to steal his knowledge, just open his head and take it, how was he so fluent in a language that had been dead for centuries ?!

He decided to leave it for now, having more important things to do, and just put the cd in the player before turning the movie on and going to put on his shoes to go outside. Cross looked at him for a few seconds before letting him get out of the apartment.

Dust sighed when outside, finally being alone. He grabbed his headphones and put on some music on his was to the store. French songs. To try and learn some words. Maybe choosing L'Assasymphonie as a starter song wasn't his best idea as it had quite a lot of complicated words, but the song slapped, so he kept it anyway.

It was the first time in his life that Dust had been happy to go grocery shopping, and also the first time it took more than two hours, he really wanted to appreciate some time away from everything, but he had to come back now, the movie was almost done and he didn't want them to make a mess the second they would be left without a distraction.

He opened the door with one hand, the bags in the other, and was surprised to see that Cross wasn't standing guard anymore. Well, surely he had joined the others to watch the TV. Dust came in, and just had the time to close the door before Killer litteraly jumped at his feet to hold onto his waist.

- Wh- ?!

- Quaeso ne nos in arca pone ! Bene erimus ! Promitto !

He begged as if his life depended on it. Okay what happened ? Dust looked up, inspecting his appartment, but everything was in order, the credits were rolling on the TV, Nightmare was on the couch, Cross was standing next to it, Horror was standing near the bay window, and, oh... they all looked at him frightened. Did he put a horror movie by accident ? He was pretty sure he grabbed the right box but the cds could have been mixed up. He recognized the names of the characters on the credits though, so he did put the right movie. But why did they look so scared then ?

- Killer, let go.

He pushed him, but Killer tightened his grip around him. He sighed, picking up his phone again to ask Nightmare what happened.

Nightmare flinched when Dust "talked" to him. Weird. He looked at him for a while before answering, seeming unsure.

- Allez-vous nous emprisonner dans cette boîte également... ?

Dust looked at the translation with incomprehension: was he going to lock them in the box too ? What box ? Why would he lock them in a box ? He looked up at them again, then at the TV.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Of course they didn't know what a film was, of course they would think it was real people, hell even he thought that when he was a kid, before he learnt about special effects and cgi, he thought it was all real, that people were really dying, so of course these four would think that real people were trapped in there, the only thing they knew was theater ! What Dust just did was basically show them his collection of enslaved people in boxes who he forced to perform elaborated scenarios where they would get hurt and possibly die. That couldn't be more terrifying and if he had been in their place he would have felt very threatened.

He quickly typed an explanation and translated it in all three languages, praying that the translation would be correct, to tell them it wasn't real, that these people were actors and these were simply the images of what they played, that they weren't trapped here and they weren't really getting hurt. He saw them relax a little, but they still seemed quite chocked, which was understandable.

- I'm, uh... going to make food then.. ?

Dust said awkwardly as he managed to make Killer let go of him, but the roman still followed him in the kitchen to sit by his feet. He didn't chase him, thinking that chasing him now would just make him think that Dust would lock him in the TV, or the box as they seemed to call it, so he just prepared dinner with the skeleton waiting on the floor. He heard Cross go back to the door.

- You can take a break you know.

Cross looked at him.

- You know, break, how do you say... pause ? Arrêter ? You can stop ?

He tried to translate from memory. Cross frown.

- Eo ne poez mie. Eo doi monter la warde.

- Yeah you already said that, but that's okay, you did a very good job, uhhh.. un bon travail.. ? So you can.. you can pause ? You can stop, bon travail, take une pause.

He managed to blurt out in a broken French with a smile, so hopefully Cross would understand. The knight looked at him before quickly turning away. Dust could have sworn he saw a faint purple blush on his cheeks. He wanted to ask him but the timer went off at that moment. Food was ready.

Horror helped him set the table, putting spoons for himself, Killer and Cross, and forks for Nightmare and Dust.

Cross avoided Dust's gaze during all of dinner while Nightmare kept eying Horror who was sitting next to him, surely to make sure he wouldn't touch him, Dust thought, as the noble seemed quite cautious of the viking, even though for now Horror was clearly not the dangerous type. Whatever, as long as they didn't fight, Dust wasn't going to force them to become friends.

He had a good feeling about Horror though, he was helpful and didn't look at him weird when he came up with broken translations. He kinda liked him. If they ended up being stuck here for a while he wouldn't mind him as a roommate.

He still hoped they would be gone soon though. He really didn't have enough money for all of them.

His bank account was almost empty already, and it wasn't even past the first half of the month.

He'll need to save money. Like, really save money.

[s1m0nth3swag]

Don't mind me just giving short drabbles because I'm sitting in class and I'm bored :3

Leon is the love of my life and uhm domestic headcanons will forever be my favourite

live laugh love Leon Scott Kennedy <3

Leon grumbles as you practically push him onto the edge of the bathtub, looking up at you with his adorable blue eyes - for everything he's gone through, he still has that puppy look about him when he's with you. He pouts softly, sighing as you rummage through various cabinets and successfully find what you had been looking for - the Bleach and Toner he usually uses on his hair. Even though Leon is the one that has been complaining about the way his hair looks for the last week, he also absolutely despises getting it done. So instead, he normally would do it himself - which he was too lazy to do this time. Still, nothing but complains about how awful his hair looked grown out like this, how it was getting too long. You were a little fed up, to say the least. Now, you had enough and pushed him into the bathroom, determined to fix his hair issue.

[Helping Leon dye his hair - Some time after RE2, but also fits for RE4 | Leon most definetly dyes his hair blonde and then stops sometime after RE4 because he gets lazy (and a lil depressed) but as someone with dyed hair it's a pain each time imo]

He huffs and sighs and pouts the entire time, while you can't help but giggle a bit at the sight, especially with how ridiculous he looks once the Bleach is setting - you curse yourself for not having your phone nearby to take pictures. Leon would fight you over it anyway, and seriously, he was stronger than you - Government mandated Training and all. The now blonde haired only calms down once you finally rinse for the last time, hair still wet as he stares at you, swiftly shaking his head like a dog, sending droplets flying through the room. You scream slightly, laughing as you feel them hit your skin and clothes, trying to shield yourself. Leon chuckles softly, grabing your hips as he pulls you towards him, resting his head against your chest. A smile places itself on your lips, uncaring that your shirt was now properly soaked as you listen to his soft murmurs of thank yous.

[Vendetta Leon with a (much) younger partner - aka Leon and the internet | your honor what if I love older men]

You hold back a laugh as you hand Leon your phone, a funny meme on it that you had found while randomly scrolling social media for hours. He stares at it, his face scrunching in confusion as he looks up at you, holding your phone as if he didn't know what to do with it. You weren't fully surprised, it had already been a hassle to get him to upgrade his flip phone to a proper smartphone. You can't help but grin, and he sighs heavily. "Your humor will be the death of me one day, what is this, love?" He grumbles, brushing a strand of dark hair out of his eyes as you sit beside him, snuggling into his side as you start explaining the meme - in the end only earning a soft chuckle from the older guy, a simple show of endearment.

[Leon with the kitten he said he didn't want - RE4 Leon | He loves cats, you can't tell me otherwise]

He stares down at the small creature, watching as it desperately tries to climb up his leg, meowing in desperation. Leon didn't want a pet, at all. Especially not a cat that wouldn't be able to defend you or the home - he sighs as he thinks of all the puppies at the shelter that would've done a great job at that. He picks the small animal up, placing it in his lap, where it promptly flops down and starts purring. His heart isn't melting. Not one bit.

Only a few days later you practically have to pry the cat from Leon if you wanted to even have a second with it. It was crazy, at first Leon had said it would never get into the bedroom or bathroom, now it was allowed to snuggle up to him in bed and even follow him whereever he went. You thought that maybe, just maybe, he loved the cat a little more than he loved you. At least when you found him during his midday nap, and with the kitten on top his chest.

[writing-house-of-m]

Home

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: A little bit of an anxious Wanda

Word count: 1648

Summary: Wanda is worried she has too many things when moving in with you

A/N: Just a little idea that came to mind when I saw this post. It was supposed to just be a short drabble and posted a while ago but it took me a longer to finish it because I kept adding little things. I hope you all like it, let me know what you think!

The day had finally arrived. All of Wanda's things were packed and she was ready to move in with you. 

You had a house away from the compound, so it made the most sense to move there. 

She wasn't completely nervous about living with you. You were considerate and thought of her at every turn, you had even arranged a truck to gather her things, but the feeling lingered. 

There was one set of things she was really unsure about and Wanda wasn't sure what your response would be when you saw them. 

"Let's get started," you state with a kind smile on your face as you begin your first of many trips to the moving truck. 

It was sad to see that Wanda's life from Sokovia fit into one box. It was filled with things like the clothes she wore before her country was destroyed to small trinkets she managed to save in the rubble reminding her of her family.  

She didn't think she would recover from losing Pietro as well as her home all in one day. But she did and as much as you would deny it, it was thanks to you and your support. 

Other boxes were filled with new memories she had collected over the years since then. It was funny for Wanda to realise, as she was packing her things to leave, that these people she now considers her family and this place has been her home. 

She packed things like photographs with the team, new hobbies she picked up along the way and the bane of your existence - the clothes she had 'borrowed' from you. 

There must have been at least a whole suitcase full of your things making you half joke about the fact that she was making you do double the work because she couldn't have just left them at yours in the first place. 

She was ready with her rebuttal saying some of her clothes were already at yours giving you a cheeky smile that you kissed away as you walked by her. It didn't stop you from commenting on another two cases that were filled with more of her clothes. 

Slowly but surely you were making progress. You made sure you were careful because you didn't want to damage anything. 

You couldn't blame Wanda for the amount of things she had. The way her life has panned out, of course she would have grown attachments to the things she has in her life when she has already lost so much. 

When the idea of moving in with each other first occurred, after many conversations about your future together, both you and Wanda agree that if you want to have a life and a family together you would do so as normally as possible. 

That meant she was not allowed to use her powers and you were not allowed to hire a bunch of people to do all the hard work of loading the truck. Now, that you had lost count of how many times you had walked between the truck and Wanda's room, you were regretting making that decision so soon. 

As bags and boxes became more and more scarce, Wanda was dreading the oncoming realisation of what was left. Not to mention how many of them there were. 

You look around at the remaining bundles assessing what is left while also taking a short breather, "These are all your books?" You question with your hands on your hips and eyebrows furrowed, confusion lacing your voice. 

Wanda hums, but you are too deep in thought to hear the unsureness behind it. 

"I thought it was just a little cabinet you had, where did all these come from?" You continue, still thinking to yourself. 

"I had to keep a lot stored because I didn't have the space for them all," Wanda grimaces behind you. While you are still unaware of her uneasiness. 

Your shoulders drop, looking disappointed as you look around at the amount that is surrounding you. 

Wanda interrupts your thoughts, "I'll get rid of some, I know I have a lot. I just figured I could do it after moving them to yours? Because they are already packed," she trails off. 

You look more perplexed than before, "What? Why would you do that?" 

"Because I have too many," she says, almost as if it is a question. 

"No, it's fine, I have the room for them all," you say casually. If you knew about Wanda's hesitance you would have cracked your usual joke of having 'Stark money' because of your father. Instead you turn back around to face the piles of boxes and suitcases filled with varying literature. "It's just that I ordered a bookshelf, but it's definitely not going to be big enough. I'll have to cancel it." 

As you walk over to some boxes where the flaps are still open, you close them while you continue, Wanda watching you move with ease, "I was just thinking I can install my own shelves on an empty wall I have, but I'll need to reinforce them because I wouldn't want the shelves to dip in the middle from the weight."

Wanda feels a sense of relief as well as her body filling with warmth that only you can do without even knowing. Always thinking ahead, of what she needs. 

When you finish rambling about what type of wood you will buy, how much to get, and what size you will need, you finish taping the last unsecure box looking in Wanda's direction. 

Wanda feels her heart full of love for you and with a smile of admiration present on her face she walks slowly over to you.

These were the thoughts that were plaguing your mind. Not that her things were an inconvenience. But how best you can accommodate her. 

She places her arms around your neck, one hand playing with the hairs at the nape of your neck, while your arms automatically wrap around her waist. Wanda looks at you for a second before she rests her forehead against yours, sighing through her nose, signalling the weight lifting from her shoulders. 

"Are you okay, my love?" you ask quietly. 

She nods her head slightly against you, "I just love you a whole lot, you know that?" Wanda smiles. How could she have ever doubted you? 

Every worry Wanda had, you countered with a solution. Every time. All new furniture was already built fresh, ready for her to organise all her things when she arrives at the house with everything today. 

Whenever Wanda voiced her concerns about any little thing; too many clothes, shoes, records and her unvoiced biggest collection - her books. You were already thinking of a way to make it work. An example being when you jabbered on about extending the closet space so you would both get all your clothes in the same place, 'it needed a revamp anyway' you said so easily. 

"Well that's good. Because I love you a whole lot," you reply, matching her smile. 

Wanda presses her lips softly against yours, hoping to convey what she can't say in words with the action.  

This is the happiness Wanda was never able to let herself feel worthy of. Worry around every corner of another person she can potentially lose. 

But with you, you make everything better. More than she could have ever imagined so. 

"As much as I'd like to keep holding you, we still have a bit to go," you say when the kiss ends. 

Once everything is moved out you give Wanda a moment alone in her now old and empty room. She makes her way over to the stand beside her bed remembering two things she hadn't packed. 

A couple of framed photos; one of her as a child with her family, it was crumpled from always keeping it with her but still meant more to her than anything else she owned; the second was a photo with the avengers and you holding her from behind at one of your father's famous party's. 

She tears up a little at all the people she is able to call family and smiles when she thinks about the one she will make with you. 

After a moment longer she makes her way to where you are outside talking to Natasha and Steve near the truck. 

Wanda says goodbye to them with a hug each before turning to leave. They say their farewells, confirming they will see you both soon because there is always something to do in your line of work. You joke about the fact it's been a while since your dad threw a party and it would be more likely you will see them at one of those sooner than the world ending. 

As you buckle yourself in, Wanda does the same then takes a look at the compound. Now that she is moving out, Wanda feels a heaviness in her chest, she didn't think she would ever actually leave this place despite not seeing it as her home for the longest time. 

You take her hand in her lap and affirm she is okay before starting up the truck. She meets your eyes and the action lifts the weight on her chest as she nods her head. 

It has been a slow dream come true for Wanda. Finding a home in you. A dream she didn't even know she had until things started to get serious with you. It was something she never knew she wanted but now knows it is what she has always needed. 

"Let's go home," you say, kissing the back of her hand, smiling softly.

Wanda holds your hand tighter as you let it rest in her lap. Returning your soft smile, she whispers emotionally, "I already am home." 

The smile on your face widens knowing what she means. Silently agreeing she is your home too. 

[killersfool]

hii! not sure if you’re open to requests but i’m going to give u a few ideas! most of these are for elijah hewson😭

falling asleep on the couch, waking up to not only a blanket around them, but eli squeezed in behind them

being in the studio with the band and messing about?? making jokes and being silly!

kissing and dancing in the kitchen to an old singe they both like?

eli taking care of you when you’re sick and just being super soft and caring!

spending valentine’s day together!

something about the reader playing with eli’s fingers to calm them down?

softly smiling at each other from across the room and also reassuring touches!

telling each other how much they love them

them cuddling in bed and pulling eachother closer

hope these spark your writing :))))

Kiss It Better | ELIJAH HEWSON

here's a short little thing inspired by this request!

PAIRING: elijah hewson x f!reader

WORDS: 1.5k

SUMMARY: eli's girlfriend is ill, elijah comforts her.

GENRE: hurt/comfort, fluff

WARNINGS: references to throwing up

I've never been so ill in my life. My nose is so runny. I've almost used every single packet of tissues in the kitchen cabinet right under the sink — which used to be a lot and now is very little. I've thrown up my insides into the loo way too many times to count on my fingers. Bent over the toilet, eyes pricking with tears, I've never felt so useless. At least the thought of my boyfriend getting back after his gig gives me something to look forward to. But it's far too late.

I'm staring at the TV screen. I hug my knees to my chest, attempting to generate some warmth. The blanket is upstairs — probably hiding in the space between the bed and the wall. Surely, if I attempt to stumble upstairs now, I'll just get stuck and end up falling asleep in the corridor.

I can't stop glancing at the door. I'm hoping for a doorknob twist, knock, ring of the doorbell, stamp of boots, low and raspy post-concert voice. But I'm just met with nothing. No signs of his arrival. He hasn't called me. He usually doesn't. He likes to surprise me. After having the worst migraine of my life, it would give me some comfort if he just gave me a hug. A warm Elijah Hewson hug would cleanse my mind.

Starting to realise that the TV is doing more harm than good, I switch it off. I'm beginning to see blurry triangular shapes and my eyes burn like they're on fire. The living room is pitch black. I'm freezing. I'm tired. I take two paracetamol tablets and chug some water. Curling up on my side, legs on the armrest, I close my eyes.

-

I wake up. Sunlight gleams through the gaps in the white curtains. My body is wrapped in a duvet, soft and warm. Skin is against mine. Arms are around my body, squeezing me tightly. He's shirtless. I can tell by the tufts of chest hair flicking at my shoulder. His head is on my back, curls all over my skin, lips between my shoulderblades. I don't want to move. I don't want to speak. He's asleep. Gentle snores, deep breaths, in and out.

I must've fallen into a deep sleep because I have no recollection of his arrival or him ever taking me upstairs. I'm usually a light sleeper. This migraine fully knocked me out. That's the best nights sleep I've had in a while. I'm especially thankful I managed to escape from work for the rest of the week.

Elijah's normally the little spoon when we hug like this. It's funny how the tables have turned. I think I prefer this though. But lying awake and tracing the muscles in his back always seems to calm me down.

I want to ask him how the show went and the reason for his tardiness. He had been playing in Glasgow, thankfully only a few miles away from me and had bought me tissues, chocolate and gave me an endless supply of kisses before he had to run down to meet the band.

Opening my eyes fully, I take a peek over at the bedside table. He's brought me more tissues, face masks, more chocolate and a box of sleep teabags.

I realise Elijah's awake when his fingers start to walk along my bare stomach and his mouth is at the juncture between my back and shoulder. He pulls my hair to the side, presses his wet mouth to my neck. He smells clean. I'm sure he's showered. His hair feels a little damp.

He keeps pulling me closer. Arms tightening like he's a boa constrictor. Cool rings on my stomach, large hands tugging at the waistband of my shorts.

"You feeling better?" He asks, between kisses, tongue tracing my jugular vein. It's unsettlingly nice. His words are always gruff the morning after the show. All the singing takes a toll. Makes him sound more mellow. Sometimes I worry for his vocal cords.

"Not really." I groan. A mind-numbing headache is still prodding at my brain and the brightness of the sun makes my eyes burn. He's got a hand on my forehead, cool fingers against fiery skin — checking the temperature.

"God, you're pale. And you're burning up. I should get the thermometer." He gets out of bed. The loss of weight of his body makes the mattress shift. I glance over at him. His hair has stuck up at the top, his bare back glows under the sunlight. He stands up. Sweatpants cling loosely to his hips, revealing the muscles of his abdomen and a chain circles around his neck. He leaves the room — not even giving me time to utter a word of annoyance at the sudden lack of touch.

Then he's back. He crawls into bed. The thermometer is between his index finger and thumb. I look at the cross tattoo on his palm, see the concentration on his face as he plays around with the buttons.

"It's just a migraine," I say but he's already turning it on and pointing at my mouth. I roll my eyes and separate my lips. He gives me a sly smirk, just making me sit like that for a moment. Then he puts the device beneath my tongue and waits patiently. I'm trying not to laugh at how awkward this is. I close my eyes to evade his gaze but I can still feel the force of his stare.

"You've got a fever." Dr Hewson alerts me with his expert diagnosis although the furrow of his brows makes him seem unsure. He looks down at the numbers displayed, rubbing his face with worry. "A really bad one." He's now searching up on his phone what it means.

"Should I go to the doctors?" I shuffle away from him. I don't want him to catch what I have. He has gigs all week, I don't want to ruin anything for him.

He notices my movement. Shaking his head, he drags me back towards him, making me nestle into his chest. His eyes are still darting along a website.

"I think you just need to rest. I'll make you breakfast." Elijah kisses my nose before running downstairs with his mind set solely on making some decent food.

Through the corridor, into the kitchen. He's forgotten where half the things are in the room. Opening cabinets, searching through the fridge, putting water into the kettle. Most of the time he'll get his breakfast on the way to a show. Maybe a café, maybe he'll steal some food from Ryan. Today, however, he's lucky enough to not have a gig and actually have time to look after his girlfriend. Although he's definitely going to make a mess of the place.

His final decision is to make omelettes. Oil on the frying pan, ham—leaving it to heat up until it's a little crispy. Two eggs, cracked and swirled in a glass. Cheese on top, grated with masterful excellence—at least that's what he believes. Folds it over to make it fill half of the pan. Let's it continue to fry. Then he's running over to make a cup of tea. He uses one of the sleep teabags he bought. He's just about to plate up when footsteps echo behind him.

I have to stop for a second when I walk into the kitchen. It's a rarity to see Elijah here, cooking for me. We started dating at the beginning of the tour which unluckily means that he's hardly ever home. He has to leave early in the morning and gets back really late. Whenever he has days off, he takes me on dates and walks, or we just laze around at home, basking in eachother's presence. There's times when he brings me along to the recording studio so that I can reprimand all the band members or give an outside opinion of their new songs.

Elijah seems so focused on getting this omelette perfect. He's running around the place. He grabs two pieces of bread to turn his dish into an omelette-sandwich. I stand in the doorway for a while, just watching him. But, I can't stop myself from nearing him. As he cuts an apple into a slices, I slide my arms around his stomach, pressing my head to his shoulder. He sighs quietly. I breathe in his scent, his comfort.

"You should be in bed," he whispers, although he doesn't seem to want me to let go. I shake my head as he looks at me.

There's music playing on the radio. I turn it up. It's a song by The Smiths. I'm swaying to the beat, moving Elijah along with me. He's still carefully chopping fruit into perfect pieces. Watermelon, strawberries, mango. My mouth is watering just looking at the vast array of flavours.

Elijah drops his knife, turns around to face me. His hands find my waist, his lips find my neck, his head burrows into my chest like he's a mole hiding under soil. We dance along to the crackle of music, feeling the melodies trickle into our bones. Just his presence makes me feel better, every kiss turns my negative thoughts to mush.

[rockyteriyaki]

TEAM BUILDING ACTIVITIES 👯

s/o to @powerful-owl for starting this meme and @disarmd for the insanely funny contribution, it’s such a delightful thought exercise! here’s my attempt:

MASCOTS!

american sports have hella mascots, so every team is tasked to create a marketable mascot that could represent them for u.s fans. they also have to build a little model to pitch the concept. there’s the williams whale sharks. the aston martin martinis. lando and oscar devise a walking papaya named penny who looks so much like a vulva oscar backs out almost instantly.

GUESS THE GRID based on clothing choices: drivers assemble an outfit they’d wear and then everyone else tries to guess who picked what. the catch is that the f1a girls did the same challenge and their answers are mixed in as well. everybody thinks doriane’s mercedes-themed picks are george’s and maya gets confused for charles even though there’s no ferrari branding to be seen. chloe’s picked a haas cap with a black skirt and we watch nico hulkenberg go through every emotion known to man trying to figure out why kevin would—???

(meanwhile the academy grid is absolutely ripping everybody’s style choices to shreds, accusing hamda of being the most basic bitch on the planet bc max chose to wear basketball shorts, etc)

PADDOCK SCAVENGER HUNT

5 teams are in on it and the other 5 can’t know what’s going on, otherwise they lose points. charles pretends that he’s too tired to walk when pierre catches him searching the top of a cabinet on carlos’ shoulders. oscar distracts williams while lando tries to get a picture of logan with red, white and blue objects in the background. yuki gets stranded on top of the rbr motorhome because daniel won’t stop using him for reconnaissance and the whole thing gets called off because max sees them squabbling on the roof and thinks the rapture has arrived.

GEORGE AND ALEX MAKE GRAPHICS

ib george’s natural talent for graphic design. the audience gets to see what a communications team actually does in motorsport (educational!) and george and alex get free reign of the entire library of press photos of eachother. george is hunting for a terrible picture of alex to edit onto a podium but ends up having a very verbal crisis about how none of the pap shots are appropriately bad and then spends the next half an hour digging himself into theeee deepest hole talking about how it’s just not as FUNNY if alex looks TOO GOOD on the podium! it would be UNFAIR! alex is squirming and trying to remember where tf he was planning on going with this zoomed-in great-gatsby-esque picture of george’s eyelids on his screen right now. george silently edits alex’s teeth out of his mouth and tries to erase the fact that he just called alex handsome like 47 times.

MARIO KART SIM RACING

im talking full immersion. sherbet land is ice fucking cold. every time they drive over some kind of giant clock or railroad or something the sim porpoises like a jackhammer. someone is standing behind them with a full tank of water for the splash sections. there’s a legitimate epilepsy warning at the start of the video. bowser puts the fear of god into lando norris.

MAX AND DANIEL DO TEMPORARY TATTOOS

i’m hesitant to allow them access to a bowl of water but i have an extremely clear vision of daniel slapping tats all over the blank spaces on his skin to the point where they overlap and he’s just got shiny plasticky tattoo skin everywhere. max would find this unappealing and also stupid until he realizes all the fake tattoos on his side of the table are replicas of daniel’s actual ones. cut to: daniel with a snake tattoo stuck in his eyebrow hairs hiking his shorts up so max can mirror the placement on his own inner thigh. daniel resembling a concussed post malone, watching max’s careful application of the ‘3’ tattoo. max does a horrible aussie accent and daniel looks like a chimpanzee seeing its own reflection for the first time. cinema.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 7 thoughts

hmm. hmm. that is the sound if me pondering what i just watched.

(i understand that this episode was an analysis into mulder's self-destructive behaviors when faced with overwhelming grief, but. that does not mean i enjoyed vampire hookup time)

well. we shall start from the top!

i read that it was an episode about vampires which i thought was a weird narrative choice because. hello. scully still gone??? but then i remembered that i too ignored the main quest in skyrim to hunt some vampires and that i had no place to judge

(granted, my main quest wasn't finding scully though. might have given that a bit more priority than saving the whole world. because she IS my whole world)

we open with a guy that looks like joe biden meeting with an attractive young woman. they're making out in a hot tub and we just know someone is gonna get slurped upon. and woe, it be upon us! double vampire attack.

back in DC, mulder gets his old office back! it's covered in plastic. he takes some of it off. he adjusts his calendar from may to november, so we see how much time he and scully had been assigned to other tasks, which also has me wondering how she managed to get a new house that quick.

(also, this calendar is... scantily clad women posing next to tools such as hammers and saws. was this allowed? was this acceptable? was it normal? were the 90's a lawless wasteland and mulder an irreparable freak?)

well. scully is an x file now, and he puts her glasses and id into an evidence bag and closes the filing cabinet which was sooooo evil. but he can't bring himself to put her necklace away. oh man. oh he's gotta have it in case he finds her. he has to hold her close. i'm Fine this is Fine.

so. he goes out to california to deal with the joe biden looking fellow being murdered. and he is not wanted on the crime scene. we know this because someone greets him by saying "nobody called the bureau" and he says "well, they should have" and lifts up the tape to let himself in. because one thing about him is that he's gonna let himself into a place he isn't wanted.

he sees the writing of a bible verse in blood on the wall and says something about their grasp of biblical knowledge being "feeble and literal" and i was like okayyy need to have a theological discussion with him

he then scares the other guy who originally wanted to kick him out by reciting a LARGE amount of facts related to similar cases and it's very much giving photographic memory. got me thinking, have we ever seen this man forget something? (directions don't count. they're confusing. but everything else sticks in that man's brain)

he just needs one thing: a phone book. which he uses to call a blood bank and ask about a new guy. who must be the vampire who did this!

so he rolls up to the blood bank and i'm over here struggling because i do Not Do Blood, and i knew at this point this was gonna be a tough watch, but i didn't anticipate the non-blood related reasons why this would be true

anyway he's sniffing around the blood bank and he hears some slurping and wouldn't you know, this dude is tearing into a bag of the red stuff like it's a capri sun. somehow he gets him into custody, where the dude refuses to talk because the lights are on, and mulder comes in with a lamp he put a red filter over, because he was prepared for vampire interrogation.

the vampire is going on about how what he did isn't murder because it's not like animals hunting prey is murder which is. not the greatest approach in terms of legal defense. mulder tells the guard that the guy is delusional and it's best to play along, and he believed this to be true... until he, quite literally, burned to a crisp in the sunlight. and died.

he's talking to the coroner and rattling off a bunch of vampire facts and says he didn't believe in vampires which is so funny to me because like. why is that where you draw the line, my friend. not at bigfoot and definitely not at aliens. but man. vampires are just too out there for spooky mulder. until now!

the coroner has a very funny line: "you are really upsetting me... on several levels" which seems to be the general effect fox mulder has on people. and also because i felt the same way about his dumbass actions during this episode.

coroner finds a stamp on the dead body's hand, which seems to come from a nightclub. so naturally our fbi agent ends up there.

you often see posts saying that "(insert character here) should be at the club". i fear that this is not the case for fox mulder, but it's possible that it's his suit and tie that are throwing me off. he just doesn't seem like he belongs there. i ask myself, where should he be instead? perhaps some sort of star wars convention would suit him better. a book signing with some author he likes. idk, an interior decorating festival. not here.

i shall use my verbatim words to walk you through the next scene:

"pause. he's talking to a woman who was looking into a compact without a mirror. so. vampire suspect. and now why are they getting so close together. and getting a drink. okay now they're leaving to a new spot together? AFTER she admits to vampirism"

(here she did some stuff that required me to look away from my screen due to my Weak Constitution. but also it would have felt necessary to look away anyway because it was getting... charged)

she tries to get him to... suck on her finger... but he won't do it because aids. which is fair. i think that's a smart move, actually. it's just that getting flirty with a vampire he knows was involved with a ton of killings was such a stupid move, i don't know why it's now the braincells start to kick in.

that kills the vibe, though, so she gets another guy to take his place and things escalate.

mulder pulls in at a restaurant called ra. nice! the sun god! and he is... through a window, witnessing some more slurping action. he seems to want to intervene and save this poor soul being feasted upon...

but the poor soul is no poor soul at all! he comes out and decks mulder, and delivers this line with stunning conviction: "i don't know who you are, freak, but we're two consenting adults" and with this, he is forced to flee.

and yeah. it made me laugh. my expectations for the genre were subverted. he signed up for that shit! what he did not sign up for, however, was the next part, where he was killed by the other vampires.

cut to investigating the crime scene. mulder has brought along a forensic dentist, which is a job i had no idea you could go into. he needs to see about those bites, which are very human.

next they go to vampire woman's house. it's a very nice place. mulder... opens her oven. and sees a loaf of bread in there. and i'm thinking, man, i hope this doesn't go where i think it's going. baked goods... ovens... i never want a vampire pregnancy arc. but he cracks open the loaf and something red spills out and somehow, this to him means that she is gone and isn't coming back. he can read the signs of the bread. so add that to his resume. what did the bread tell you, my liege?

he seems to have stayed in her house, however, because he's there when she's back, and says he knows she was using the bread as a charm to ward off evil. because apparently that's an eastern european thing, blood bread to warn off evil. sound off if any eastern europeans in the chat wanna confirm or deny.

anyway. he's IN this woman he thinks is a vampire's HOUSE? what the hell. mulder seriously i need you to stop and think. like you should have stopped and done some thinking a while ago. honestly i'm not mad i'm just disappointed. and he's like "i want to save you come with me before they kill you" ohhh big tough man needs to save her huh. make him feel good inside. huh. certainly no ulterior motive here...

she's monologing about her horrible childhood and how sweet blood tastes. um girl. don't lie to him like that. i have busted my lip open before that stuff does NOT taste sweet and dangerous. it's like a penny with rust that you found in a parking lot.

it seems her vampiric origin story, if to be believed, is that things simply got too kinky. which is a new take on the genre.

(it's also about being caught in an abusive relationship and the damage that inflicts, but it seems abusive boyfriend came into vampirism at his kinky parties and things escalated from there. which. well. it blew the eyebrows clean off my head, to be fair)

at this point we see that he is WEARING SCULLY'S NECKLACE? he says something like "it's from someone i lost" and she says that she "hopes he finds her"

i did not like the undertones here and certainly not the overtones. because i knew where this was going. he was shaving in her bathroom. and let me tell you something: there is only ever a shaving scene in media because the writer needs a way to get some blood out of someone's body and into the real world. and man. i knew it was coming.

but what i didn't see coming was her SHAVING HIM??? girl. i am uncomfy. and she does, of course, cut him, and then they kiss. aggressively. terribly aggressively. can anyone answer what was going on in a satisfactory manner?

but the gag is: the original vampire- who burnt to a crisp in the jail cell, and was the abusive ex she spoke of- HE'S WATCHING THEM THROUGH THE WINDOW!

he breaks in and taunts the vampire woman about how he had to "wait for her to finish" and i was like cool. thank you SO much for that mental image i'm super happy with it. i definitely don't feel like i need a shower. but then he's going on about how he can't be killed.

here, at the tail end of the episode, we learn the rules of vampirism in this world: a vampire cannot be killed by a non-vampire. and a non-vampire BECOMES a vampire by consuming the blood of a believer and also taking a life. it is only here we realize that this woman is not an actual vampire yet, she just appropriates their culture by drinking blood unnecessarily.

mulder's still sleeping in her bed and she's like "you need to leave" and she stabs the wall to make her evil ex think she's killing him. but when they go to break out, mulder ties him up quite handily and he gets in the car to escape with vampire woman. until ANOTHER vampire woman jumps on the hood of their car. and main vampire woman knocks her out for a bit by running into her with said car, which is super effective.

mulder's leaving the place in shambles, his shirt still unbuttoned, wandering down the side of the hill. back at the house, now that we know the vampire rules, main vampire woman says she can finally kill the evil vampire ex. and he's like how!! you haven't had the blood of a believer or taken a life. so. she licks the blood off her hands (unclear if it's hers or mulders tbh) and says she'll take her own life. and drops a match after pouring gasoline.

so. that brings that to an end. and shabby looking mulder sits on a hill as he learns all four in the house died.

the episode ends with him playing with scully's necklace. which i don't even sort of feel like unpacking right now but maybe another time.

probably not, though, because i just didn't like this episode. and yeah, a lot of it comes down to me not wanting to see mulder hook up with people who aren't scully. can you blame me? is it so wrong to have preferences in this world?

but also, narrative wise- do you honestly see the guy fucking off to cali while scully's still missing to deal with an unrelated problem instead of devoting every hour of his life to finding her, like we saw him do in the last episode? you expect me to think he just puts it off for a lil while? the guy who, just last episode, pulled his gun on the ski lift operator to get to the top where she might be a little faster, and then choked his one and only suspect out of fury? you're thinking this is the guy that's gonna go soak up some west coast rays?

and yeah, he was obviously not himself through the episode- very cold and analytical- but c'mon. we all want to bang a vampire. he's not special. i just personally wouldn't do that if my friend were gone. like how is that gonna help the situation. be so for real. time and place!

and also the whole only learning the rules of being a vampire about 5 minutes before they need it to be plot relevant. that annoyed me too.

overall, mulder, like i said, i'm not mad, just disappointed.

let me know what you thought on this episode- i try to not be a hater, but i also understand that hating in small doses can be good for the soul. if it's a widely beloathed episode i'll feel better in my judgement as i join a long tradition of haters who have come before me.

[scarlet--wiccan]

Are you watching the Agatha show? I don’t have any desire to but I’ve heard some things about them leaning very heavily into the antisemitic and antiromani elements of like, “witch lore” and stuff, that sounds unbelievably vile (in addition to the already horrible things you’ve discussed). Namely Agatha stealing and eating children and Billy having to get in an oven. Are those things that actually happened in the show?

Yeah, I've been watching it. To be clear, I've been pirating it. You couldn't convince me to pay for Disney +, even before the boycott. But because there is a certain degree of ambiguity around some of the characters and adaptational choices, I want to be informed when I talk about the show.

To date, yes, there have been a couple of throwaway jokes about Agatha eating babies. My impression, so far, is that the show is very preoccupied with pop culture depictions of witches and witchcraft, which, as you can imagine, are shallow and frequently veer into racist territory. This is evidenced by several homages and references to other movies, and many facets of the show's worldbuilding. The baby-eating jokes are just another aspect of this. Agatha frequently makes glib asides about witch stereotypes, the history of witch trials, etc-- either playing into those tropes to make herself seem comically sinister, or else dismissing them in a humorously derisive tone. These sort of jokes are a lot less funny when you're aware that many of those tropes are based in racism and antisemitism, and that witch trials are a part of actual history that, in the real world, were less about witchcraft, and more about religious zealotry, racism, and abuse of power.

All of this just feels extra tone deaf in light of the fact that the show features multiple whitewashed Romani and Jewish characters, it's pulling directly from material that talks very openly about that heritage, and it's built on the back of Wanda/Vision, which did the same thing to an even greater degree. You know, it would be one thing if these characters were just taken out context, and that was the end of it, but it's never just that-- these offensive references persist in spite of the erasure. For example, Lupone's character, Lilia, exemplifies the caricature of an eccentric gypsy fortune teller, despite having been rewritten as a white woman from Sicily.

To be clear, I believe that the folkloric concept of witches-- who, in this context, are more often represented as non-human monsters or spirits-- abducting and/or eating children, can and does exist separately from blood libel. But, that trope has also been closely entwined with antisemitism for a very long time, and with Agatha, we have little choice but to read it through that lens.

As for oven thing-- I do think there is a bit of nuance. Part of the show's premise is that the cast has to traverse a series of surreal magical realms. In this case, they're trapped in a house that is rapidly flooding, and an unexpected exit appears when the oven door pops open and reveals a portal they can escape through. The optics aren't great, and my first thought was that they could have just as easily used a cabinet or the fridge. But the oven was deliberately chosen so that Lilia could make an aside about the witch from Hansel & Gretel-- again, the show is obsessed with making these little nods and references. Given the set-up and intention, the oven situation feels more like an unfortunate coincidence than other, much more overt instances of racist and anti-semitic tropes. But because Lilia and maybe-Billy are in the scene, and there is an established precedent, we do have to acknowledge the image it conjures.