#he also looks like a pumpkin here lol

[beefy-the-stronk]

Pepper loaf comic :>

Based on a headcannon that my buddy Jell and I came up with where Pepperman can tuck his limbs under himself like a cat.

[hana-bobo-finch]

a strange trend in my favorite characters I realize is that I tend to heavily gravitate toward somewhat obscure, antagonistic forces

[nosyrobin]

Imagine on Halloween the Supersons trio are dressed as their parents, Damian Batman, Jon Superman, and Wonderboy!Reader having to be with his mom's lol

“TRICK OR THREAT!”

Pair: Superson Trio

Summary: going trick or treat wearing the costumes of their parents, only one of them is embarrassed.

Genre: Fluff.

|| note: the boys are 13 also I love this idea! ||

“Mommm!” Y/N yelled embarrassed, he didn’t expect to wear his mom’s costume. Well he did, he just thought it would be pants for the costume, but no. It was her usual costume she fights in daily. Rope, crown, shield, and sword. And the blue and gold-colored high waisted star printed skater skirt. With shorts under them of course. Diana smiles at her son, “Cmon pumpkin. You look like a mini me as of now!” Diana takes another picture of the boy who held a flustered face. He immediately covered his face embarrassed.

“I hope Damian and Jon aren’t coming…” y/n says to himself. “Actually they’re outside right now.” Diana says with a smile, taking one last photo of Y/N. “What?! No, no! Those two idiots can’t see me like this!” Diana narrowed her eyes at her child. “Why not. Do you not appreciate looking like a warrior?” Y/N opened his mouth to argue but the motherly glare dared for the boy to say something. Shutting his mouth he groaned, “Whatever.” Diana goes to the door and opens it for Bruce and Clark to enter with their mini them.

Damian was dressed as Batman, and Jonathan as his father, Superman. The boys were excited to see how Y/N would look, and boy did they have a laugh at the Amazon male. Damian held a hand to his mouth as Jon cackled holding his stomach. “Omg! -wheeze- you’re wearing a skirt!” Jonathan says pointing to Y/N who looked ready to punch Jonathan. “So what! Warriors wore skirts regardless of gender like men.” Y/N huffs and pokes Jonathan hard at his chest.

Damian was done laughing, wrapping an arm around the angry Amazon. “Prince, it’s fine to be Wonder Woman. At least you look like a warrior still.” Damian says snickering. Jonathan nodded smiling, Y/N shrugged off the arm of the boy wonder. “Whatever, let’s just go trick or treating.” Y/N walked pass the two boys who immediately followed after the Amazon male. Clark smiles at the trio, he had finished chatting up with Bruce and Diana. “Okay kiddos, let’s get this rolling!” Clark says opening his truck, Jon gets in quickly with a smile, excited. Damian grabbed Y/N’s hand gently and helped the Amazon male in like a gentle man. Damian held a smug grin, Y/N glared at Damian and pulled his hand back.

“Stop that.” “Of course your majesty.” “Ughhh!”

The car ride was calming for the less, Y/N had his arms crossed over his chest. Damian was looking outside of the window as Jon was singing songs with his father. Damian peeked over at the boy between him and Jon. He couldn’t help but smile, the boy was gorgeous. Jon was doing the same, the two boys haven’t noticed they were staring at the Amazon male for so long to the point Y/N felt irritated at the feeling of the stares. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer bozos.” Damian smirked. “I wished I’d taken a photo.” Y/N whipped his head at the boy.

“Watch yourself Wayne.” Y/N says with a glare. Jon laughed a little. Finally Clark stopped in the middle of a busy neighborhood. “Alright kids, remember I’ll be right here and if you kids need me. I’m already listening for yall.” Clark says pointing to his ears. “Thanks pops!” Jon says happily, exiting the truck. Jon helped Y/N out, he didn’t care that the sassy Amazon male didn’t need help. But it felt good for Jon to help the boy out.

“Let’s have funnn!” Jonathan says excitedly with Damian and Y/N smiling at the golden retriever boy. “Let’s!” Y/N soon yelled out with a wide smiled. And the trio started to go nuts, going for the big houses. Damian was of course getting gasps as he was the son of a billionaire. Y/N and Jon was having fun seeing adults suck up for Damian and then Jon. Jon for his adorable looks. Y/N was smiling at his bag of candy, he didn’t notice some boys and girls staring at him. Protectively, Jon and Damian blocked Y/N from their view. They continued their trick and treating. Damian slickly putting some of his candy in Y/N’s bag.

It was going great! Until some kids had seen the Amazon boy, kids from the school Y/N goes to. The kids were a bunch of idiots with no hobbies except to make fun of others, and they seen Y/N with the two supersons.

“Hey sissy!” Y/N immediately turned around with a hardened expression, the Amazon male didn’t see how Damian and Jon was already in a formation by the Amazon boy. “I didn’t know that Y/N Prince was a sissy! Can’t wait to tell the school this.” The kid said, Y/N walked forward, wiping his sword out. “You dare make fun of me!” The kid snickered, “That’s a toy sword, what are you gonna do princ—" with a quick slash in the air, the tire of the bike was flattened. The air was quiet with a smug Amazon boy, a proud Wayne, and surprised Kent. “What’s that? That’s the sound of a flatten tire. NOW SCRAM!” Y/N yelled pointing his sword in the direction the kids came from.

The kids grabbed their bearings and ran off, but the kid still had one thing to say. “You’re still a sissy!” Y/N growled under his breath, ready to chase them before Jon placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Shaking his head no, Damian had a smug look with crossed arms.

“That was amazing Prince. Very amazing.” Damian says standing by Jon and Y/N. “Dude.” Jon says not impressed by his best friend’s antics.

Y/N scoffs and puts his sword back into its hold. “Whatever..let’s just get more candy and head home. “ the Amazon boy walks away from the two, the two can clearly sense something had trouble the boy. Jon and Damian look at each other and immediately try and corner the boy. But Y/N was speed walking through crowds of children. “Y/N.” Damian says, Y/N almost stopped but kept walking. Jon sighs and immediately grabbed Y/N, “Dude. Whatever that guy said to you earlier, isn’t true. You’re still the most masculine boy I ever known!” Jon says with a soft smile.

Damian nods, smoothly interlocking his fingers with the Amazon boy. Y/N blinked at his two best friends. “I..-sigh- thank you for your concern but it’s not that.” Damian and Jon raised a brow. “Then what is it Y/N?” Damian asked. Y/N looks down embarrassed. “I’m cold….” The chilly air of fall had hit the boy’s legs ever since they had exited the truck of the Kent. Jon and Damian laughed. “That’s all?” Damian asked. Y/N nodded with a sunken in lip. “Alright, let’s hurry this up then.” Damian says pointing up by the street.

With a still embarrassed Amazon, Damian and Jon wrapped their capes around the boy. It brought them closer as the two boys held each hand of Y/N. Walking through the neighborhood for the end of the night of Halloween.

[moonstruckme]

hihi mae!! in honor of the season, could i request reader convincing bodygaurd!james to carve pumpkins together. and it’s basically just him on the brink of cardiac arrest bc reader is using the biggest butcher knife possible, like an absolute menace, and he’s 100% convinced she’s gonna saw her fingers off lol. thx for considering ♡

Thank you lovely!!

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 814 words

James has half a mind to find you a plastic knife and let you make do with that. It might take you a while longer, yeah, but at least he wouldn’t have to feel every muscle in his body tense each time you stab the knife you’ve picked through your pumpkin. 

“I thought you were doing a cat,” he says, watching you push another piece out from what will be your pumpkin’s mouth. 

“I am.” 

“Why does it have fangs?” 

“It just felt like it should.” You shrug. “Sort of spookier that way, right? Maybe it’s a vampire cat.” 

“And here I thought it was going to be cute.” 

You smile at him. “No, Jamie. That’s yours.” 

With all his attention on making sure you don’t slash yourself, James has made pitifully little progress on his own pumpkin. He’s only managed to cut out the nose, but when he’s done it’s going to be a classic, smiling jack-o-lantern, except with hearts for eyes. You’d beamed and called it fitting when James told you his plan. He’s been ruminating over what you could have meant by that ever since. 

For his own project he’s using a small paring knife, mostly because he’d hoped you’d follow his example (what wishful thinking that was) but also because James doesn’t tend to do well with precision and he didn’t see a big knife helping matters. You, however, have selected what may be the largest knife he’s ever seen. He can’t comprehend what a beast that size would even be necessary for in a kitchen, much less for carving a pumpkin. Your unskilled grip on the handle makes the hairs on his arms stand on end. 

“I think we ought to find you a different tool,” he tries again. 

“James, you worry too much.” You roll your eyes, hardly looking as you shove your knife through the flesh of your pumpkin. He flinches. “This one is working fine.” 

“Right, I just feel like—” You do it again. James worries he’s developing an eye twitch. “—like possibly I’m not doing my job by letting you handle a weapon like that.”

“It’s not a weapon, it’s a kitchen knife.” 

Again, not a clue what in the kitchen could require a knife that large. 

“I think its capacity for injury is the same regardless, angel. Let me have it, please? That way I can keep working here and you can keep all of your fingers.” 

“You need to chill out,” you say, unnervingly serene for someone who seems to James on the precipice of life-changing injury. “This knife is the perfect size for how big I want my eyes to be. If I have to saw using another one, they won’t look as clean.” 

“Is that really worth risking your hand for?” 

“Yes. I want the triangles to look nice when I stick them onto the top as its ears.” 

“How are you going to do that?” 

“With toothpicks.” 

Right. A more moderate risk of injury, for sure, but James is now too high-strung to imagine anything other than disastrous outcomes between you and sharp objects. He imagines you skewering one of your lovely fingertips on a toothpick, the surprised look on your face when it happens. His own heart bursting straight out of his chest from overexertion. 

“Maybe I could do that part for you,” James suggests weakly. 

“Shit.” You’re looking into your hollow pumpkin. “The eye won’t come out.” 

“Let me try.” 

“No, I’ve got it.” 

Before he can stop you, you’re sticking your knife inside your pumpkin. It comes spearing out the other side a moment later, the triangle of one eye impaled on its tip. James chokes on a gasp as you stop it within inches of your abdomen. 

“There,” you say satisfiedly. 

James makes a strangled sound. “No,” he says, seizing your wrist and carefully removing the knife from your hand. “No, I can’t do it. We’re swapping.” 

“What?” You look at him with wide, wounded eyes. It’s adorable, compelling even, but James won’t allow himself to budge. “But your knife is so lame.” 

James guffaws. He feels half delirious. This is it, he thinks. His love for you has finally driven him insane. 

“It’s not lame.” 

You pout. “It’s tiny.” 

“Sweetheart.” James sets the knife down to hold your face in both hands. You go still with surprise. “If you stab yourself with your giant knife, I won’t be around to get fired. I’ll die of heartbreak. Do you understand?” 

You roll your eyes at him, but you’re softening. “You really like my hands that much?” 

“I like all of you. In tact. You’re perfect as you are.” 

“Fine, whatever.” You pull your face from his grasp, picking up the smaller knife. “I know you secretly just wanted to be the one with the bigger knife, though.” 

“Yeah, you’ve caught me. Can’t get anything past you.”

[astrophileous]

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

[rosenclaws]

Different Side of the Track || 50's Greaser!Logan smut

summary: All your life your parents had created the perfect image of their daughter that you were forced to fit into but when you went off to college and came back with a degree they were nothing but ashamed. Claimed that it wasn't a ladies place to be educated like that. So why not ruin their good family image even more and sleep with the older hot and mysterious man with a motorcycle.

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, fem!reader, breast play, doggy style, rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, borderline abusive family, sexism, harassment from a group of assholes, violent Logan.

wc: 4.6k

halloween masterlist || join my discord!

a/n: It's my birthday! So to celebrate I wrote this fic because I couldn't get the idea out of my head and god he's hot. Also I didn't really try to do proper 50's talk because I'm lazy and I cannot handle all the research jaldfk;s. This ended up a little angstier than normal, as my fics usually do lol. The ending isn't my favorite but I tried im sorry asdfjkl. Okay anyways I really hope you like it!

You truly hated this town. College was a breath of fresh air and while it wasn’t always easy, it was better than home. You got your degree, proudest day of your life. Even if your parents didn’t show up. Even if you had to smile in the picture by yourself, watching everyone else celebrate with their families. Your parents never understood your want to go to college.

You thought they’d be proud but if anything they were ashamed. They think that a woman pursuing higher education was unladylike. That a woman's place was to stay at home and take care of the kids. They were embarrassed of you, refused to acknowledge any of your achievements.

You wished you could have stayed in your college town but then you got the letter. Your grandmother had passed and you needed to come home. You were heartbroken. Your grandmother was the only one to support you, and helped you when you worked countless hours at the diner to pay for it. She celebrated when the acceptance letter came in and she gave you the biggest hug when you left.

Coming home was a no-brainer, needing to be here for her funeral but now you’re stuck at home with your parents and life is miserable. You were counting down the days until you could get out of here again. You spent as much time as you could out of the house.

Going to work, dreaming of another life. Doing literally anything you could to stay out and away from your parents. That’s how you found yourself here. Taking midnight shifts at the diner to stare at the man sitting at the counter.

Logan. It was sewed onto the patch on his jumpsuit. You don’t even know his last name but you do know that you want to know everything about him. He worked at the mechanic shop right across the street. He was dark, brooding, mysterious. He didn’t talk to anyone. Just ordered one black coffee and sat there with the paper. This was a small town and you had never seen or heard of him before.

“You’ll catch flies if you don’t shut your mouth there pumpkin.” You feel a hand on your jaw and you swat it away. Betty, your coworker was grinning like a madwoman. She was a sweet old lady who has worked at this diner for longer than you’ve been alive.

“Oh hush.” You look down at your order sheet. Sketches of your patrons fill the empty sheets. Mostly drawings of Logan.

“I don’t blame you sweetheart, he’s a dreamboat if I’ve ever seen one.” She sighs dreamily as she looks at him.

“Who is he?”

“Not sure, rolled into town one day. Plenty of rumors, though, say that he was an army guy. Some say that he’s running from the law.” You gasp at the idea.

He couldn’t be a convict could he? You’d never met anyone like that. Though, you feel yourself grow curious instead of fearful. Your whole life you lived in the perfect world. Perfect family with a lot of money and a perfect reputation to uphold. You got the perfect grades, had the perfect friends and still your life felt anything but perfect. You craved something more, needed it. You couldn’t live the rest of your life as someone's housewife. That wasn’t your dream.

“Looks like he needs a refill..” Betty nudges your arm and pushes you forward. You eye the apple pie sitting in the case and steal a slice. No better way to get a man to talk than give him pie right? Clearing your throat you head over and put on a smile.

“Hi Logan.” He looks up from the paper with his usual stony face. A beat passes and he doesn’t speak.

“This is for you, on the house.” You place the pie down in front of him. You shift nervously in your spot as you pour coffee into his cup. He’s never told you his name, does he think you’re a freak or something?

“It’s on your uniform, you know. Your name.” You wince at how horribly awkward this feels. He looks down.

“That supposed to be me?” He grunts out. You tilt your head in confusion before following his gaze. Your guest checks with drawings all over them. Drawings of Logan. You slam your hands down and stuff them in your pocket.

“No! I mean, yes but it’s nothing. Just drawings I. I’m sorry.” Logan just looks at you and you walk off in shame.

Mentally kicking yourself as you sulk back to the kitchen. Betty takes over serving him as you silently wait on the remaining people. By the time your shift is over your back aches and you’re still replaying that moment in your head.

“See you tomorrow Betty!” You say as you put on your coat.

“Hold on dear, this is for you.” She hands you a napkin and winks. Confused, you open it up to see messy handwriting. 

Thanks for the pie doll

-Logan

Logan has come by every night since then. Ordering one black coffee and you sneak him whatever pie is left. Sometimes it’s apple, other days it’s pecan. Today’s pie is pumpkin. Just in time for the fall season. He’s still a man of few words but he’s always polite. Pays and says thank you with that handsome voice of his. You’ve gathered some information on him. Mostly from the town gossip.

The group of boys, greasers who would often come by and cause a ruckus, idolized him. He drove a motorcycle, fixed cars, and smoked like there was no tomorrow. In some weird way he’s become their parental figure. Not that he really gave a shit but he worked with them at the shop and he took care of them when he needed to. He strolled in again today. This time he looks at you and throws you a wink. It’s a little routine the two of you have now. Not much talking but it’s nice. You think you’ll be able to get him to open up soon enough.

“Thanks doll.” Logan says as he sits on the worn stool. You hand him his coffee and pie, already prepared just the way he likes it.

“So, do I get to know your last name yet?” He smirks and takes a sip of his coffee.

“How about you fetch me a napkin first. Then I’ll think about it.” You roll your eyes playfully and he smiles. The door jingles and you hear the sound of obnoxious laughing. You look up to see the jerkiest looking boys you’ve ever seen. They wore letterman jackets that seemed too small and talked too loud.

One of the boys, a blonde guy who seemed vaguely familiar whistles at you. You hold back a scoff as you walk over to their table. They’re looking you up and down with a gaze that makes you shiver. Absolute jerks.

“Hey sweetheart, why don’t you be a good girl and get us some milkshakes.” You clench your jaw as you jot down their order.

It dawns on you that you know exactly who that guy is. David Scott. He was in your high school class. Quarterback, the popular guy every girl in school wanted, and the worst human being you’ve ever met. He was nothing but a no good bully. It seems fitting he’s never truly moved on from this town as he was dumber than a bag of rocks. Logan catches your eyes as you head back to the counter. Preparing their order and trying to tune out their annoyingly loud voices. Before you head back with their order you top off Logan’s coffee.

“You know drinking this much caffeine can’t be good for you.” You say.

“And yet you’re still serving me.” He shoots back. You shrug your shoulders and smile, he’s got you there.

“Hey! You done serving grandpa over there.” Logan growls and his grip tightens on his cup.

“Ignore them, they’re nothing but a bunch of idiots.” You say under your breath. You bring the tray of drink over and set them down.

“Anything else?” You ask through gritted teeth.

“Nope.” David whispers something to his friend before moving his hand and spilling his shake all over you and the floor. His friends burst out laughing and you bend down to clean up the mess. Counting down the seconds until they leave. You’re too focused on cleaning to hear David whisper to his friend.

“Watch this.” You hear the stool fall and suddenly you’re pushed to the ground.

“Get off me!” You turn around and see Logan holding David by the collar of his shirt. Teeth bared and a dangerous look in his eyes.

“Logan!” You scramble to your feet as he shoves David into the booth.

“Think you’re funny bub? You’re lucky she’s here or I’d beat you to a pulp.” He growls, eyeing his friends who are now cowering in fear. You stand stunned as Logan seems to command the room.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to scram or I’ll make good on my promise.” He rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit and grins. You’ve never seen a group of boys in so much panic.

“And don’t forget to pay.” Logan says with a smirk. They throw down more than enough money and bolt out the door.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” You say softly as Logan seems to calm down.

“Fuckin’ idiots.” He shakes his head and gently pushes you away from the mess.

“Broken glass doll, gotta be careful.” Silently the two of you clean up the mess, him scooping up the glass and you cleaning the table.

You watch carefully as he handles the glass, watching to make sure he doesn’t cut himself. You see a piece of glass slice his hand and you hurry to the back to get a band aid. However when you come back the cut is gone, maybe it was just strawberry? The clock strikes 4am and the new waitress comes through the door, relieving you of your duties. He waits for you to clock out and walks you out the door.

“Thank you again Logan.” He just shrugs and lights a cigarette.

“Let me walk you home.” He offers and you accept. The walk is silent as you head to your home. You eye his cigarette and he notices. He holds it out to you and you take it. Taking a puff and immediately coughing it back up. Logan chuckles as he takes it back.

“Never smoked before?” You shake your head and he just smiles. Figures.

You’re much too sweet to have done anything bad. Just looking at the houses around him he knows that you’re as high society as they come. When you reach your house Logan stands on the sidewalk, watching as you walk up the driveway. You look at your door and then turn around to hurry back to Logan. Leaning in you kiss his cheek and he almost drops his cigarette.

“Bye Logan.” You bite your lip as you slowly walk back. As you walk through the door you hear him call to you.

“Howlett, my last name is Howlett.” 

Your sweet night with Logan turned sour the minute you woke up. Your parents were down at the breakfast table. Scowling with disappointed looks on their face. Oh great what else is new.

“You need to quit.” Your dad says and you laugh.

“What?”

“Do you know how embarrassing it is for us to tell people you’re working at a diner? You come home smelling like smoke? It’s insulting the family!” Your mother hisses and you feel tears well up in your eyes. You knew they were cruel but to hear those words from your own mother. It hurt.

“I am an adult, I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

“As long as you’re living here you do. Now go down and tell them or I will.” Your father stands and stares you down. You feel so fucking helpless. It’s true. You’re stuck here and the money you’ve saved up isn’t enough to get out of here just yet.

You storm out of the house, letting the tears fall once you’re out of their view. The walk to the diner is miserable. You don’t want to quit, you like your job. Tears fall as you tell your manager, apologizing and leaving with your tail tucked between your legs. You hated this. You longed to be free and now you’re trapped at home.

Sitting on a bench outside of the diner you let yourself cry. Not wanting your parents to see any sign of weakness from you.

“Hey, everything okay doll?” You look up and see a blurry Logan from your watery eyes. He’s got grease and oil on his face and suit. Wiping his hands with a rag.  You shake your head and Logan sits next to you.

“My parents made me quit.” He scoffs in disbelief.

Oh Logan knows all about your father. He wasn’t sure until last night but once he saw your house he knew exactly who your family was. Flaunting their money and status to spit on those lower than them. He serviced your fathers car a few times. Adding pointless upgrades. On the bright side he charges him double and your father doesn’t even bat an eye.

“That’s bullshit.” Logan says angrily. You’ve told him about your life. How disrespectful your parents are. How stupid they can be, anyone should be proud of their daughter getting a degree but they think it’s shameful. You’re smart, pretty, a real perfect girl.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say in such a defeated tone.

“You can always spend time at my work, don’t know if it’s the kind of place you’re used to hanging around but-” He gets cut off as you lunge at him. Hugging him tightly as you seek comfort in his arms. He freezes but slowly places his arms around you. Your perfectly crisp and clean dress was now dirty by his hands but you don’t care.

“I owe you so much Logan, you’ve been a real life saver.” You don’t want to let go. He’s toned, even with the jumpsuit over him. He’s strong and his arms are so warm and welcoming.

“Don’t worry about it doll, can’t stand to see a pretty girl like you so upset.” You lean up and kiss his cheek again. He grins as you scoot closer to him. Suddenly he pushes you back. You’re confused until you see your father pulling up next to the diner. Oh god did he see anything?

“You quit?” He asks, glaring at the dirt on your dress.

“Yes. I quit.” You say unhappily but he doesn’t care. He shifts his eyes to Logan.

“What happened there?” He says accusingly, you know your father wouldn’t hesitate to threaten Logan despite Logan being much stronger. It’s the egotistical nature of him.

“She fell, I caught her.” Logan lies so easily. Your father hums and drops it to your relief.

“I need you to look at my car tomorrow, something’s wrong with the brakes.”

“Got it.” Logan says casually and you can see your father roll his eyes. He drives off leaving the two of you on the bench.

“Say, why don’t you come by with your father tomorrow. I’d be happy to show you a few things” Logan offers, a flirty tone to his voice.

He walks off before you can respond, needing to get back to work. You throw the idea around in your head as you head back home. There’s no denying that Logan is hot. Really hot. He’s everything your parents hate. Lower class, older, doesn’t care about their status. It would drive them insane if you started to hang around a guy like him.

Though you don’t want to just use him to get back at your parents. You really do like him. It’s a win win in your head. Smiling to yourself you already start to pick out your outfit for tomorrow.

Ready to cause a little chaos. 

Your father didn’t understand why you wanted to come with him but you gave him so stupid excuse and he bought it. Your father pulled the car in and threw the keys at Logan. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes but Logan does it for you. Despite Logan being much more knowledgeable about cars, your father still talks down to him. It’s rude and classist and you hate it.

“I’d like to stay, you know, make sure nothing goes wrong.” Your father scoffs but leaves you be.

“He’s real lucky I don’t punch his lights out.” Logan mutters as he pops the hood of his car.

“I’m really sorry, you don’t deserve that.” Logan shrugs. He’s used to it by this point.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about me.” He leans over and kisses your cheek.

He wipes off a seat for you to sit on and you watch him work. There’s something about the way he moves that’s just…attractive. His muscles strain in his jumpsuit, sweat drips down his face. And the noises, god the noises. The grunts when he moves something heavy. Then he does the unthinkable. He unzips his jumpsuit, taking off the top half and tying it around his waist. Leaving him in just a white tank top.

Now you really have a show. You don’t know how much time has passed and you don’t care. Slowly the garage empties as people head to lunch until it’s just you and Logan. Logan can feel your eyes on him. In fact he loves it. Your cute face is staring at him like a piece of meat. He can see you shift on the leather stool. He can smell how bad you want him. It’s desperate, almost pathetic how badly you want him. He stands up, making sure to flex his arms as he sets down the wrench. 

“You alright doll, you look a little hot?” Logan feigns concern as he steps closer to you. Placing his hands on the workshop table. Caging you in.

“I’m okay.” You eye his chest shamelessly, eyes traveling down to the bulge in his suit.

“Yeah? I don’t know…” He slowly takes your sweater off. Leaving your arms bare and your cleavage on show for him.

“I’m not sweet doll, not gonna treat you like a good girl.” He growls in your ear and you whimper. Oh you need him bad.

“I’ll break a sweet thing like you, but something tells me you want that.” You grab his face and smash your lips to his. It’s messy and dirty, teeth knocking against each other as you fight for dominance. Logan slips his hands under your dress, lifting you up to the workbench and stepping in between your legs. Your hands are locked in his hair. Tugging hard as he deepens the kiss. He groans into your mouth. His hands rip your dress at the top. You gasp as his lips trail down your neck leaving sloppy wet kisses until he reaches your boobs.

“Fuck.” He squeezes your chest roughly, purring at the feeling of them in his hands.

“So cute.” He says with a wink as he leans down and bites your nipples roughly. He promised he wouldn’t be nice and he meant it. He shamelessly grinds his bulge against your wet panties.

“Dirty girl, letting a no good mechanic touch you like this. What would your daddy say hm?” He taunts as his hands move to slip up your dress. Pulling your panties down and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Who fucking cares?” You spit out as you grind your hips. Soaking his suit with how wet he’s made you.

“Oh, pretty girls got a mouth on her.”

“Just hurry up!” You whine as you slip your hands under his tank top.

Lifting it over his head so you could get the view of his muscular body. He unties his jumpsuit and yanks it down, letting his hard cock free. To your surprise he picks you up and brings you to your dads car.

“Turn around.” He lifts your dress up and bends you over the hood of the car. His hands run across your ass, squeezing and admiring the view as he slowly grinds his cock along it. The tip of his dick slides in and you moan.

“Yeah, feels good doesn’t it doll.” He says cockily as he renders you utterly speechless.

The stretch is unbelievably amazing as he bottoms out. You whine as you feel every vein, every twitch of his cock inside of you. He’s so big. Everything about him is big. His presence, his arms, his cock. He was just big. He barely gives you anytime to adjust before fucking hard into you. Your hands claw for anything to hold onto. The hood of the car is too slippery so Logan just pins your arms behind your back instead.

“Naughty, naughty girl.” Logan huffs as he leans down to bite your ear. His pace is relentless. Pounding the words right out of you.

“Letting me fuck you on your daddies car.” He puff his chest out proudly. He’s tearing you apart on your asshole fathers car. Making you moan his name as he desecrates his car.

“Feels so good Logan. Oh god!” His cock hitting that perfect spot in you every time. Over and over. It’s unrelenting. You involuntarily shift your hips. The pleasure becomes overwhelming.

“Where are you going doll? I’m not done with you yet.” He lets go of your hands and grabs your hips, pulling you back on his cock with a bruising grip.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You beg wildly as you move your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Not planning on it.” He tilts his head back in pleasure as he pounds into you. He feels you clenching tightly around him. Your legs are quivering under him. There’s grease smudged all over your body, your face.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the windshield. You’re completely disheveled, hair a mess. Makeup smeared and clothes torn. You look absolutely filthy and you love it. You can see Logan’s abs flexing as he thrusts his hips. His hands run up your sides. Taking you by the shoulders to slam you back on his cock. A weak cry leaves your throat with every thrust. Finally you break. A desperate, strangled moan as your body quakes. Shaking and rocking you right to your core.

“That’s it doll, I’ve got you.” He leans down and nudges his nose into your neck. Kissing softly as his thrusts slow just for a moment. Letting you breathe. You’ve never felt more happy in your life.

Logan kisses the side of your head as his hips grow sloppy. Chasing his release and savoring the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. With a loud groan he pulls out and finishes on your ass. Your eyes close as your body feels like it's melting. You can barely stand. Logan wipes you down with a clean rag, loving how fucked you appear to be. 

“I got you.” He gently picks you up and brings you to a bench. Laying his clean jacket over you as you will your legs to stop shaking.

“You alright?” He’s got a devilish grin on his face as he redresses himself. Somehow it’s like he’s back to normal while you’re wrecked.

“Perfect, oh my god you’re amazing.” You lean back into the bench and sigh happily.

“What the hell is going on here?!” You shoot up and see your father storming towards you angrily. You’re a mess and you don’t think Logan can lie his way out of this one. He’s angry. Really angry.

“You are nothing but a disappointment and you have been ever since you were born! A disgrace to the whole family! To the town! Doing such horrible things with the likes of him.” He snarls as he points at Logan. You’re stunned into silence.

“I have the right mind to never let you out of the house again you ungrateful little-”

Logan steps in front of him and he tries to hit Logan right in the face but fails miserably. You gasp as Logan pushes him against his car. You watch as boney claws shoot from his hands. Your father squirms in fear as the tips of his sharp claws grow closer to his neck.

“Shut the fuck up.” Logan growls.

“You’re a real fucking dick and a sorry excuse for a father. If I ever see you come near her again I’ll fucking kill you.” He lets go of your father and watches as he runs away. Yelling about mutant freaks. Logan turns back to you, a cold look settling on his face when he sees your face. Now you know his secret.

“You’re a mutant.” You say in awe. To his shock you reach out for him instead of running away.

“I am.” You admire the claws, how amazing.

“Beautiful.” His mouth gapes open as you pull him closer.

For once someone is looking at him like he’s normal, like he’s not a freak of nature. He longs for this but he knows your dad won’t go down quietly. He’ll tell the whole town.

“Look doll, you’re too good for this town. You’re too good for me.” He brushes your cheek softly.

“I can’t stay here anymore and you need to go home. Pretend you never met me. You’re a smart girl and you have a bright future ahead of you.” Logan takes his hand away and walks away.

“Logan!” You throw off his jacket, you're limping slightly but you refuse to let him go. He’s quick on his feet, already shedding his work clothes for his normal ones. A leather jacket thrown over his tank top. His motorcycle is out back. He’s got a backpack already packed and ready to go. Like he was waiting for this moment to happen.

“Take me with you!” You stand in front of his bike.

“What?” He asks in disbelief.

“Please, I hate this town. I have money saved. I can help but please don’t leave me.” You move closer to him, taking his hand in yours.

“I can’t live like this anymore, Logan. I’d give it all up to be with you”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s not your choice. It’s mine so please, take me with you.” He wants to say no. To leave you here. It would break your heart and his but it’s what's best. But a part of him wants to be selfish. He could protect you, he could take care of you. But he fears you’d regret it eventually.

He’s overthinking and you can tell. You grab his jacket and kiss him gently. He groans as he slips his arms around you.

“Please.” You beg softly.

“I can’t promise you the life you’re used to.” He warns but his resolve is slipping.

“I don’t care.” He sighs and kisses you again. It’s becoming addicting. You’re completely addicting.

“Hop on doll,” He throws his leg over the bike and waits.

You waste no time jumping on behind him. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he revs his motorcycle. You lean into him and smile. He stops so you could say goodbye to Betty and grab a bag of clothes. He waited at the door, a grin on his face as his claws were proudly shown off to your parents.

Then he drives. Away from your horrible family and the horrible town. Your future is uncertain but with Logan, you’re confident things will work out.

He’s all you need. 

[henry7931]

Halloween Tales: Pumkle!

Caleb:

Okay I realize it’s not the best looking pumpkin but I tried my best! And I really wanted to do something fun for the season so… I guess I started with carving a pumpkin? I even named him Albert lol.

I’m 21, single, gay, and kinda lonely all around. I’ve really tried making attempts at making friends in my new college town but I guess I’m just weird. Plus, it doesn’t help that my parents got me a townhome to myself.

I started to head inside when I heard the sound of a car pulling in. I look up and knew instantly by the 2009 mustang that it was in fact my uncle Dennis.

“Oh great!”

Dennis climbs out and immediately starts talking.

“Sup Bud!”

“Hi Uncle Dennis. What are you doing here?”

“Well I talk to my brother and I’m out of a job right now. And he said I can come live with you for a bit. So looks like we’re roommates!”

“Fuck…” I say under my breath.

I thought for a moment he heard me but he just kept talking… which eventually turned into a ramble.

“So yeah, like I was saying you’re going to have to be cool with what I want around here. Starting with getting rid of this stupid pumpkin.”

“Oh come on Dennis! I just got done with carving it! His name’s Albert.”

“Ha! You named him? How fucking silly! We’ll say goodbye to Andy.”

“Albert.”

Dennis carries my pumpkin to our dumpster and tosses it in.

I walk back into my house pissed off. I couldn’t believe he just did that!

I stayed in my room for hours trying my best to avoid him. But eventually I have to leave my room.

It’s 8 o’clock now and I walk out of my room. I look around and Dennis had literally turned my place into his own person man cave.

I walk outside to find sitting on my front porch.

“You’re awake! I was wonderin when you’re gonna start cooking dinner because I’m starving!”

“Bro you can’t cook?”

“Hell no! But you can,” he says lighting a cigarette.

“Why would I do that,” I say crossing my arms.

“Well you can cook for me or I can tell your parents all the bad things you’ve been doing here.”

I roll my eyes and stormed into the kitchen. I cook for him and he even complained about the food!

After that, I uncle Dennis pulled off his clothes down to his boxers and flung his body on the couch. I couldn’t believe his lack of decency. But I also felt something strange deep inside of me. A weird attraction to his fit body.

I realize my uncle is a good looking man but his personality sucks! And I feel so grossed out by even finding myself being so turned on…

But his big smelly feet… his pits… his chest… his bulge… god it’s been a minute since I’ve seen a handsome my body that wasn’t on the internet.

I run off to bed and lay down. I realize that I have a raging boner. So I angrily started jerking off trying not to think about Dennis.

But alas… his body is all I have on my mind.

I think about how he’s such a dick that I literally blurt out, “I wish that I could change Dennis! That someone or something would just takeover him and let me do whatever I want with his body! I want to smell his feet so bad! I want to feel his cock… his balls! Have his strong hands rub all over me!!! Ohhhh fucccccc…”

I came at the thought and soon fell asleep.

The Next Morning…

I wake up and get out of bed. I head to the bathroom and here Dennis is inside.

“Hey Dennis can you hurry up! I have to pee!”

Dennis swings open the door and he’s standing in his briefs last night and he’s WEARING MY PUMPKIN ALBERT OVER HIS HEAD!

“Really funny Dennis! Now take it off.”

Dennis shrugs at me and then I notice something… the pumpkin is hallow…

I begin to scream and run… the pumpkinhead wearing uncles body follows me until I’m in a corner.

“What are you going to do to me?!?,” I say to it as it fully approaches.

He reaches out and grabs my hand. He moves my hand to Dennis’s crotch. He return reaches into my pajama pants and starts fondling my dick…

“Holy crap…”

I lose train of thought for second because it feels so good.

“ Hold on a sec, how and why are you controlling Dennis’s body?”

He turns and looks around the room trying to search for something. And then gestures like he wants to write something.

I find him a pin and paper. I give it to him and he starts to write.

“Hi Caleb, it’s me Albert! I heard your wish last night and decided to take over Dennis. Thank you for granting me his body, I’m so happy to have it. Now I can’t wait to serve you. This body is now just as much as yours as it is mine. Oh and one more thing! Sorry I look scary right now butI’ll look normal soon I promise!”

“My wish… that’s right! Wait… What about Dennis’s uhhh head.”

Albert grabs my hand and leads me to the front porch. I see a new pumpkin sitting with what looks to be a very angry face.

“That’s Dennis?”

He gives me a thumbs up.

“So what now?”

He takes my hand and leads me back to the bedroom.

Albert lays down on my bed and pulls off his new bodies briefs.

The beautiful body that once belonged to my Uncle Dennis is now completely naked in front of me.

I thought for a moment that maybe I should stop but what’s the point? I can’t undo anything now.

I get into bed with him and immediately press my face into his crotch. He has this mush to him that so hot to me and I just know it’s been a minute since his body has had a proper shower.

I kiss down his thighs and look down at his big sexy feet.

I look up at Albert and say, “feel free to play with your new dick for a few. I’m going to be down here,” I say directing to his feet.

I run my tongue up and down his soles while watching Albert gently fondle his new dick. He twists his nipples which causes his dick to leak a bit.

I stand up and pull off everything that I’m wearing.

I put his big feet together and start rubbing my boner in between his soles. Albert catches on and starts giving me a foot job.

He works his toes so well… it’s impressive especially since last night he didn’t have any.

I moaning loudly and Albert pace’s faster on both of our cocks. Im watching his big hairy balls move up and down… his tight grip on his cock…

I can’t take much more…

We both explode at the same time. His feet and his chest is covered in cum.

I lick his toes clean and work my way up to his chest.

I lick his cum off of him and I notice something. His cum has a pumpkin flavor to it.

I bust out laughing and crawl up to his chest. He pulls me in and we’re both lying naked cuddled up together.

A few hours later, we wake up from a nap and we’re both hard again. This time Albert takes control and works my cock for me.

I cum again and crawl down to his dick. I give his throbbing head a kiss before sucking him off.

Albert seems to love it from how squirmy it made his body. He must have known he was close because he literally pushes my head in and cums down my throat.

We eventually get up and I take us to the bathroom.

I turn on the shower and we both get in. Our bodies are rubbing soap all on each other and I keep kissing him. Albert seems to be fascinated by my cock because he can’t stop touching it.

I feel his cute hairy butt and got an idea. I gingerly inserted a finger into his hole.

“Is that okay?” I ask him.

That’s when he makes almost a grunting noise.

“Oh my god Albert! Are you about to speak?”

“Mmmmhuuuu-yuuu-sss.”

“Wow! Thats awesome!”

After our shower I dry us off and I head to the suitcase Derek brought. I dig through his clothes and found an outfit for Albert that I thought would look sexy on him.

I get him dressed and he sits on the couch. I pull my phone out to take a picture.

“Okay! Flex for me sexy!”

He taps at the couch to come sit with him but I tug off his boots and pull off his socks.

“Sorry I like seeing them.”

He wraps his arm around me and we watch a Halloween horror special together.

Soon it’s night time and I offer to cook for Albert but instead he gets up. He heads to the kitchen and starts cooking for me.

“You’re so sweet!”

As he brings out a plate, he starts to make a muffling noise.

“Uuuu— rr— muh-muh love.”

“Aww thank you. You’re my love too.”

After dinner, we both strip out of our clothes and full around for the third time.

This time Albert lets me insert a couple of fingers into his hole. I work it for a bit trying to be soft since he’s so tight.

I pull out and carefully insert my dick into him. His body quivers, I move back and forth inside of him.

He runs his hands all over me. He starts to moan…it’s a deep moan that sounds almost like Dennis’s voice.

“Harder Caleb! It feels soooo good,” he says clear as day.

I go faster and faster….

We’re both moaning so loud!

I feel myself about to cum inside of him and his dick explodes.

I lick his chest clean and we both fell asleep.

The next morning I wake up and almost thought yesterday was a dream.

I look over and Albert’s not in bed with me. But I notice a bunch of pieces of pumpkin are laying in the bed.

“Oh my god Albert!”

I rush out of my bedroom and run to the living room.

But I’m caught off guard when I hear a familiar voice say, “Good morning Caleb.”

I turn and see him… he has a human head! An exact match of Dennis…

“Hi…,” I say taking precaution just in case last night was a dream.

“Sorry, I wanted to surprise you. Do you like the new head?”

“Albert?”

“It’s me my love!”

I rush over to him and touch his face.

“God, this is… wow this is amazing!”

I kiss his lips and we keep kissing over and over again.

“So can I do that thing with my new mouth on your cock now?”

“Oh god yes!”

A Month Later…

“So you ready to meet our family?”

“Yeah but do I have to pretend I’m Dennis?”

“Yeah babe and you can’t be flirty with my parents around. It’s taboo.”

“Fine! But can we at least share a bed?”

“Well I guess I’m sure that would be fine since they only have my old bed.”

“Great! Now come give your uncle Dennis a kiss before we have to go!”

I roll my eyes and pulled Albert in for a long kiss.

“Oh don’t forget the pumpkin pie! I made it from scratch.” 😉

[marleyybluu]

Two And Counting

husband/dad!Oscar Diaz x fem!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: 18+, smut in your rearview mirror, just a quickie, pregnancy sex, p in v, reverse cowgirl in the bathtub (heeeeeyyyy), just two people in love, some fluff, Oscar is vocaaaal, talks you through it.

A/N: I was high so excuse any misspellings, definitely not proof-read. Also I've never been pregnant lol so I have no idea if this would work irl, but hey that's why we're here, this is not real life.

this was fun to write lol but I lowkey don’t like the title

(not my picture, got it from Pinterest. I want him to **** ** *****)

It was late at night, the house was quiet. Almost too quiet. You were so used to hearing your five-year-old call your name, the repetitive "Mommy! Mommy!" Still ringing in your ear. You sighed, you'd dropped him off at your mother's house for the weekend, he loved going to grandma's and honestly? You needed a break. Just at least an hour to yourself. But now it was so strange not hearing him babbling around the house.

Once you'd come back home you had taken a well-deserved shower but after your shower, you just felt the weird urge to soak in a bath. So you hovered over to the detached bathtub and filled up the tub, squeezing a bit of your bubble bath into the water. You carefully dipped yourself inside the tub, and a sigh of relief and satisfaction left your lips. You smiled closing your eyes one hand on the rim of the tub and the other, palm splayed all over your growing belly. Six months. They'd gone by so quickly, your stomach grew— a huge difference between two months ago and now. It was crazy.

"Hi pumpkin, you okay in there?" You mumbled rubbing soothing circles on your belly. The flick of the bathroom light and the bright beams of the fluorescent bulb ruined your little relaxation time. You looked over your shoulder, your husband Oscar standing in the doorway. Wearing his flannel pyjama pants and... no shirt. Mhm.

His tattoos are on display for you, his arms crossed and his biceps flexed. Why did he have to be so hot? "You two having a good time in here?" He asked. "We were, turn off the light, that's what my candles are for." You complained. Oscar rolled his eyes turning off the light at your command, he walked in, now leaning against the counter. You smiled. "Done with your game?"

He nodded.

"Hungry? There are leftovers-"

"Already ate cariño." He interrupted. You nodded slowly. "How's baby doing?" A smile creeps on his face. He'd been showing all thirty-two teeth since you told him you were expecting another. You shuddered with delight remembering how he was when you were carrying your son. Oscar always had his hands on you, wanting to bend you over anywhere and anytime. He expressed how much he loved seeing you like this. Beautifully in your element, sugarcoating you by saying, moaning; "You were made to carry my babies." As he seemingly pumped another one inside you.

"He's good."

"She." He corrected. He was certain you were having a girl. "She." You mocked, though it did make your heart flip at the thought of him holding a baby girl. 

He asks, "Do you want some more company in there?" 

Your eyes twinkle at the offer and that's all the confirmation he needed before he began pulling down his pyjama pants off, his boxers were next. You gaze lasering down to his half-hard dick, your tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You nodded eagerly and made some room for him, you scooted forward and he sat behind you pulling you onto him once he was comfortable. You perch on his lap, leaning back into his hold. He wrapped his arms around you, a warm kiss on your cheek. "Te amo." He whispered. "Te amo. You miss Raphi yet?" You giggle. "I missed him the minute we left your mom's place." 

"Hm, me too." You hummed. Oscar's hands refused to stay in one place, rubbing circles on your belly, measuring the perimeter with his hands. "I can't believe we're having another one." He whispered. "I know," Your hands overlapping his. "We gotta have like four more." 

You gasped lightly pinching him. "Do you see what pregnancy does to a woman's body?" 

"I see what it does to yours. And I love it." 

Oscar couldn't keep his eyes off of you, you could always feel him staring through you-- a "You are so fucking fine." Would slip out every time. You playfully rolled your eyes, his hands sliding to the underside of your belly, a bit close to your heat, you not so subtly buck your hips forward. You moan at the faint brush of his dick against your pulsating clit. 

"We can have one more, and then we're done." You sighed, his hand slipped down further, his palm hovering over your mound. "Three." He bargained. There was no way this was happening right now. 

Your nipples poke you, his teasing was getting to you. "One." You insisted. He chuckled as his slender finger ran down your slit, teasing your hole. Your legs spread a bit wider but there wasn't much room in the tub. His warm lips sucking on your soapy skin, you smell like lavender and fucking sunshine, that's how you always smelt. So warm and inviting. That's how you were and that's why loved you so much. 

"Two." His last offer before his fingers slowly find their way inside you. "Ooh... Oscar." 

You could feel a smile of victory against your skin, he took his fingers out and rested them on your clit. Your hips buck once again. "Two." He said. 

For fuck sake!

"Okay, okay, two. Just move, please." 

He laughed, you'd scowl at him if he didn't start rubbing your bundle of nerves. Your head fell back on his shoulder, one hand worked between your legs while the other squeezed your sensitive breasts, tweaking your nipples. You whined moving your hips forward, you didn't even care anymore, you were so desperate to get to where you needed to be. 

Oscar groaned, "Mi amor, despacito, you're so needy." 

"Oscar, fuck, please. I just want you inside me." You cried out. He kissed your back, his hands on your waist as he adjusted you over his full length, he slipped in carefully. Your eyes disappeared, the whites were the only part that showed, your jaw slacked open. "¿Estas bíen?"

You could only manage to nod. He slid down the tub, lying down at an angle so you could be comfortable, you lay back on him and with his help, you raise your hips up and down on his shaft. He was stretching you out in the best way, a delicious sensation coursing through your skin as he penetrated you so deeply, fuck you were so full. 

"My pretty baby. Look at how fucking pretty you are. I'm keeping you pregnant." He cooed mumbling the last part. If he kept making you feel this good, you might just give him what he wants. His mushroom tip poked and prodded at the sweet spot buried inside you. You cry and clench around him, your pussy almost weeping and begging for more. "Coño Bonita." 

Your head lulled back as he whispered in your ear, nibbling on the lobe from time to time. "You feel so good, so soft. fuck." He strained. His hand found its way between your thighs once again, his fingers playing with your equally needy clit. It was becoming too much. "Oh god, baby... O-Oscar!" 

You were there. You were right there. 

"I-I'm- I'm-" 

"I know, it's okay, go ahead." 

As if you needed the permission you didn't know you were asking for. Your body twitched, legs shaking as they closed around his wrist that was still snug between them. You squirmed, your orgasm taking over your body. Electricity piercing your veins. "Keep coming for me, don't worry." 

He was using you to get himself to his peak and it was hot, he wasn't stopping, your body continuously moving up and down. Hugging his thickness for his pleasure. "I'm cumming, in that pretty fucking pussy, hermosa." 

You were long gone, your body limp as your high was coming down. You quietly moaned feeling his hot seed spread inside you, you giggled lazily. "Fuck..." He chuckled. "You okay?" 

"Mhm." You sounded sleepy. "Come on, we'll clean off before you fall asleep in here." He laughed. 

You let him do all the work, washing you off before himself then helping you out of the tub wrapping a towel around you. 

You quickly dried off and headed inside your shared bedroom, going over to your side of the dresser where all your products stood. You did your usual night routine and once you were done you found yourself in one of his old shirts and one of his baggy shorts. He laughed lightly as he entered the room. 

You looked down at yourself, you did look a bit ridiculous. "What?" You pouted. He made his way over to you, his hands cupping your face, your palms cuffing his wrists. "You are so fucking cute and I fucking love you." He smiled pressing a kiss to your lips, you dissolved in his touch, melting into his kiss. He pulled back slightly but you chased him reattaching your lips. 

There was that feeling between your legs again. "Ma-mamita." He chuckled as you smooched him. You whined. He kissed your forehead letting go of your face. His hand hitting your, lately overly ample, ass. You squealed. "Get on the bed." He instructed untucking his towel from his waist. 

"Wha-" 

He spanked you again. 

"I'm trynna show you why we're gonna have four more." 

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated. see you in the next one. peace and love 🤙🏾

Tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb

who might be interested: @blkbutterfly816 @miyahmaraj @librarian1002 @bigenergy777

[prettytoxicrevolver]

can i request prompt number 18 ew you like candy corn with luke hughes please? i actually like candy corn and i think he would like it too lol

i fucking LOVE candy corn bro not enough people like it 😭 i also agree he probs would like it but i had an idea at the end that i thought was cute so apologies!

~

“Okay, we have pizza, we have soda, we have dessert, we have horror movies to last a lifetime and we have candy,” Quinn declares gesturing to the mountain of food laid out before you.

You, Quinn, Jack, Luke, Trevor, and Cole were all hanging out together for your not so annual halloween party. However, the use of the word party is extremely loose considering it was usually you guys plus any significant others or random friends that have decided to tag along. It also consisted of eating as much food as possible and watching all types of horror flicks until everyone is passed out on the couch in a food coma.

You guys start with a classic horror film, Halloween and you’re each curled into your individual seats. You and Luke on one loveseat, Quinn sitting by himself, and Jack, Trevor, and Cole on the big couch.

You’re almost through your third movie, Jack pausing it so he can go to the bathroom and you turn to look at Quinn.

“Did you buy candy corn?”

“Yes weird gremlin I bought candy corn for you,” he jokes, getting up from his seat and heading to the kitchen to grab it.

“You like candy corn?” Trevor asks and when you nod he makes a face. “That’s disgusting.”

“And this is why you don’t have friends,” you retort and Trevor’s jaw drops, hand reaching up to dramatically clutch his heart while Cole laughs next to him.

“I’ve never had candy corn,” Luke says from next to you and you turn with a loud gasp.

“You’ve never had candy corn?!” you exclaim.

“Here we go,” Cole murmurs and you shoot him a look but you both end up cracking a smile the minute you make eye contact.

“Heads up,” Quinn calls and you can’t even react in time when the bag of candy corn is thrown in your direction.

Luke thankfully catches it and hands it over to you where you rip the bag open quickly and pick out one of the big pumpkin shaped candy corn pieces.

“Try it,” you tell him.

“Is she on this candy corn bullshit again?” Jack asks when he comes walking back into the living room and you flip him off before turning and waiting for the youngest Hughes brother to finally try candy corn.

You watch as Luke takes a bite, unsure at first but then nodding his head as he continues to chew.

“This is pretty good,” he says, smiling lightly.

“Hah!” you exclaim, turning to the rest of the boys. “Get fucked!”

“We're never gonna hear the end of this,” Quinn sighs and you grin widely.

After two more movies you’re successfully passed out next to Luke, your head resting on his shoulder. The other boys have gone to bed but Quinn quietly cleans up the area first.

“Luke?” he asks and the young boy looks up at his older brother.

“Did you actually like the candy corn?”

Luke glances down at you, making sure you’re fast asleep before looking back over at his brother.

“Not at all,” he admits.

“Thought so,” Quinn responds, a soft knowing smile on his lips. “Goodnight.”

“Night Quinn.”

[osamucide]

DAZAI HCS! ⊹

LAST UPDATE: DEC 19

cw: talk of mental illness and substance use/abuse, speculation about Dazai’s f’ed up past+trauma, Dazai-typical references to suicide, references to self harm, probably a lot of projection on the author’s part

reid: i feel like yapping about Dazai tonight so here’s a non-exhaustive list of general headcanons i have about him. no word count because i’ll probably update this periodically lol

he does not listen to music from this century. he just doesn’t. not that he goes out of his way not to, he’s just drawn to a certain sound that only older music seems to have—I think The Smiths, Blondie, Tears For Fears, The Smashing Pumpkins, King Crimson, and Led Zeppelin are among his favorite artists

I think he also really enjoys classic jazz/blues/bebop music—Charles Mingus, Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, etc.

he’s anemic. I’m of the firm belief that Kunikida buys him a 100 ct bottle of iron tablets every 100 days which Dazai always graciously accepts. however, he only actually takes them when he gives enough of a shit to (which is not often) so the bottles are just accumulating on his bathroom sink/in the cupboard beneath

nail biter, cuticle picker, hair twirler, thigh bouncer, etc. I don’t think he really sits still unless it’s absolutely necessary

children love him, much to his dismay. they think he’s entertaining. he thinks they’re like puppies (and he canonically hates dogs). he won’t treat them badly, but he’s just not super interested in interacting with them. unwilling older brother vibe when faced with them. shithead kids can stoke his rage much faster than Chuuya ever could

he cannot take care of a fucking plant. has one succulent in his apartment. it’s surviving out of pure unadulterated spite. he hasn’t watered it in over a year

wearer of funky socks. his favorites are either the ones that say "I love my job ha ha just kidding" or the custom ones Yosano got him as a gag gift one year for white elephant at the office christmas party (they have Kunikida’s rage face on them)

really sad that, despite his criminal record being scrubbed clean, he is still banned from driving in the nation of Japan for the rest of his life because he wants a Ford Explorer so bad

PROFOUNDLY SOUND KNOWLEDGE OF MEDICAL TERMINOLOGY

he’s fluent in Japanese and English, proficient in French and Italian, and learning Russian

I think he also enjoys learning math/researching random shit/reading anything he can in his free time when he feels up to it. he never received a formal education and his IQ is through the roof—his yearning for academia is almost like an itch he has to scratch every once in a while. also, he just likes knowing things

he never learned how to ride a bike. wahhhh wahh

BPD king. look at him. my beautiful princess with a disorder. I doubt he’s diagnosed but he strongly suspects it seeing as he’s so self-aware; if not borderline, he just assumes he has severe PTSD. either way, he really won’t do anything other than what he already knows about how to manage it

along the same lines—he’s been a functional alcoholic since an alarmingly young age (I’m talking 16-17). I think it probably got a lot worse post-defection when he was underground, but he hardly had to function then anyway; he gets somewhat better after joining the Agency but still has a dependence, it’s just not severe enough to debilitate him

has a bin of art supplies in his apartment. he only ever pulls them out once every few months, but he rather enjoys painting and wouldn’t mind getting better at it

master at darts. don’t take him to a bar where there’s a dartboard. he will stand in front of it all night and obliterate everyone who challenges him

insatiable sweet tooth. he especially loves anything maple, butter pecan, or butterscotch he’s a grandpa

UPDATE.1

I love to headcanon that he has a glass eye!!! and that the bandages around his head in the dark era were some legitimate injury. he likes to pop it out as a party trick/to weird Kunikida out

he feeds the stray cats and kittens that linger around the ADA dorms. he probably spends some of his grocery money on the fancy wet canned food and leaves it out with a big plastic bowl of water. sometimes sits and watches them eat and likes to give them little scratches if they trust him enough to come rub up on his legs. they’re sort of to him as the orphans were to Odasaku, and it makes him feel closer to his deceased friend

on the note of grocery shopping—he only goes when Atsushi or Kunikida drag him along. keeps his list relatively the same from trip to trip: canned crab, cigarettes, bandages, a few cases of beer, sake, instant ramen, ice cream (particularly butter pecan), paper towels, and 3-in-1 shampoo when he needs it. Kunikida forces vegetables upon him (“put it in the ramen so you don’t die of heart disease”) but they almost always end up rotting to mush in his fridge. he steals his toilet paper from the ADA bathrooms/supply closets or bothers Atsushi and Kyoka for spare rolls when he’s out

religiously orders drinks from the cafe on his way in and out of work. on mornings he usually gets a latte with plenty of sugar and some sort of flavor; in the evenings he probably gets an iced flavored tea to mix or chase his sake with when he gets home

always has a pocket knife on him. probably one he got in his mafia days, or, it’s at least a habit/security he picked up from then

takes a lot of night walks. he doesn’t sleep well, so I think he probably wanders out tipsy with his pack of cigarettes in the wee hours of the morning and scuttles around to tire himself out

UPDATE.2

two words: medical trauma. I know some people get iffy when it comes to speculation about what Mori did/didn’t/may/may not have subjected him too as a young teenager (and believe me I have a lot of thoughts) but I definitely headcanon that Dazai was used as a little bit of a lab rat/sedated and coerced to some degree when it came to turning him into a killing machine. as a result, he’s got a fear of medical settings. after his surgery during the cannibalism arc? I know he got that phone back and was like “Tanizaki get me out of here right neow”

I think sweet little old ladies probably love him and he loves them too. always feels like he strikes up the best small talk with them. will help load groceries into their cars for them. he gets all smiley and stuff when they call him “sweetheart” “honey” “dear” or remark how handsome he is and about his hypothetical girlfriend must be so lucky

he can throw knives with pinpoint accuracy from a pretty impressive distance. he’s a little less accurate with his handgun at long range/with moving targets but HE’S GETTING BETTER

has like a 3.5 ft vertical jump at his best. like why are you a detective when the Lakers need a center

UPDATE.3

lowkey a god at shoulder massages? he’ll meander behind Kunikida at the office and rub his shoulders like a boxing coach trying to warm up his athlete mostly to try to piss him off but Kunikida totally just melts into it after smacking his hands away a couple times. does the same thing to Atsushi but Atsushi just starts fucking purring and almost passes out

I was talking about this with Kal a second ago—but I think he and Ranpo love acting so gay at the office also to piss Kunikida off. they also ask him if they can be allowed to go outside and play

cigarette of choice is a Marlboro Black. I think someone has said/alluded to this before but I can’t remember who. if you’re reading this you’re right

on top of his overflowing piles of iron supplements, I think he also has an unreasonable amount of reusable water bottles. reason being Kunikida again because I just know Dazai doesn’t drink enough water and Kunikida’s always buying him a fancy new cup to try to keep him enthusiastic about being hydrated. it doesn’t work but his favorite one to date is his orange hydroflask (sometimes he brings a vodka soda to work in it. Kunikida is thrilled until he realizes his partner is tipsy) (Kunikida wishes he could fire him)

on that note—other than sake, I think his liquor of choice is vodka. I do not think dark liquor agrees with him but ultimately he will drink whatever gets him drunk. and so ensue the Sunday scaries (and the every other day scaries)

[ournosleep69-blog]

Joel Takes Your Virginity (yippee)

Haven’t done this in a while, so please bear with me!! I also need more ideas for what to write LOL. Thinking about doing some Arthur Morgan stories?? Mayhaps?? I also do angst & fluff YIPPEEE

Pairing: Joel Miller (hbo) x fem!reader (use of she/her, feminine terms)

Word count: 4.3k Warnings & Content: Smut, 18+. Age gap (reader is 19, Joel in his 40s), fem!reader, oral - female receiving, praise, P-in-V unprotected, loss of virginity, slight awkwardness, established relationship, creampie, dom!Joel, marking, sleepy aftercare, veryvery smutty, set in Jackson.

It’s already been a wonderful eleven months being with Joel. Sure, moving into his house before you two had even crossed a year together was a little bit risky, yet, it felt right; still feels right. Plus, you two had connected before you’d even gotten together, so it wasn’t as if it happened completely out of the blue.

Everything was amazing - Joel was the best boyfriend you could ask for; sweet, gentle, yet protective and ready to defend you if it came down to it (and it has, many times). He was thoughtful, and never wanted you to do things yourself, even if it was as simple as making coffee in the mornings. The age gap may earn some…questionable looks from a few randoms here in Jackson, but he never cared. Joel loved you loud, and he was damn proud of it.

On an intimacy level, however, you two hadn’t gone past the casual late-night makeout sessions, the hickeys here and there, the occasional groping. But it never went past any of that. It began to frustrate you, even if it was your doing. You stopped things before they went past that line of intimacy, but it was only because you were scared. What if you weren’t as good as the other girls he’s had? How many girls has he had, exactly? What if you can’t please him the first time-

“Thinkin’ hard over there?” Joel’s gruff voice interrupts your thoughts as his large hand comes out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His words ground you back into reality, and suddenly, you’re back on the couch with your boyfriend, watching some cheesy action film on a small TV. “Starin’ off into space like that, you alright?” 

Your gaze flickers over to Joel, noticing his hand gently squeezing your thigh in a reassuring manner. He seems to be worried, his brows furrowed, the slight wrinkles on his forehead deepening.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you quickly brush his worries aside. Your hand reaches out to grab his own, feeling the way his palm and fingers nearly dwarf yours in size. “Just thinking.”

“Thinkin’?” With a grunt, the Texan shifts closer to you, his free hand trailing down to your chin to tilt your head in his direction. God, the man was stunning. Even in his late forties, he looked so full of youth. His brown eyes, deep and intense, met yours, beckoning you to be honest.

A sense of uncertainty fills your brain. It’s best to be honest, but you feel odd talking about it - intimacy was never your strong suit, even if it’s only because you were so inexperienced. So, you inhale a deep breath, your eyes fluttering slightly as you prepare to express yourself. 

“I wanna…well,” it’d be nice to turn your head and dodge his eye contact because you can already feel your cheeks heating up, but he keeps you in place. “I just think maybe we, uh, we take things..” Fuck, this was hard.

“I want to have sex. With you. Uhm, right. Yeah.” Jesus Christ, you kick yourself mentally, a palm slapping over your face in embarrassment. That was so awkward you might as well have just jumped his bones instead.

 You can see a wave of surprise rush over Joel’s features. His eyes widen slightly, lips parting to say something, yet he remains silent, only the sounds of his near-silent breaths filling the room. The hand on your thigh tightens just a bit. 

He then clears his throat, “you sure, pumpkin? That’s a big step. I don’t want you to feel like you have to. We can go as slow as you w-” But you cut him off by leaning in just slightly. The air between you thickens with tension, and you can feel Joel’s body tensing with anticipation. 

“I’m ready,” it’s all Joel needed to grab your hand, leading you up from the couch and towards your shared bedroom upstairs.

  ☆☆☆☆☆☆

It was a quick mess of clothes being discarded as soon as you two passed the threshold leading into the bedroom. Joel’s arms are tight around your waist, your own clinging to his shirt while your lips fight for dominance; a fight Joel quickly wins every. Single. Time.

Hot tongues slide and tangle against each other while your feet step towards the bed. Joel’s strong arms, marred with scars and scratches from all of his arduous years of surviving, guide you to lay back on the bed. 

“Just lay back, sweetheart. I wanna make your first time somethin’ special, you hear me?” The older man murmurs whilst slowly crawling on top of you.

Your back sinks into the fluffy softness of the covers, eyes flitting up to meet Joel’s intense ones. His gaze is roving over your body, pupils widening at the sight of every inch; the swell of your breasts, your flared hips, those plush lips and beautiful eyes. He could spend countless hours just ranting about how amazing you are, how special you are to him. 

How much he loves you.

His lips brush against the shell of your ear, breath warming the skin there whenever he talks. And the way his hand slides up to your stomach, tracing the contours, makes your insides clench. Though things were starting to get steamy, the nerves were starting to take over.

“Hey, hey. Darlin’, breathe,” You tried to keep it together as much as you could, but Joel could see the slight tremble in your body, the way you were unintentionally digging your nails into his shoulder. “Are you sure this is somethin’ you want?”

“Yes. It- It is. I know it…it doesn’t seem like it, but,” a shy laugh escapes your lips, and you loosen your grip. “But I want this. I’m serious, Joel.” 

At your words, the Texan nods firmly. His touch resumes on your stomach, fingertips trailing up and over your ribcage, feeling the ridges even through the skin. His touch is featherlight, calming even. And then his fingers brush against the bottom of your underwear, earning a gasp from your mouth.

“Someone’s eager..” He murmurs, shifting his hips nearly imperceptibly. But you could feel the hot bulge of his arousal pressed to the soft flesh of your inner thigh, the way it twitches through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“I could- could say the same about, uh, you,” It sounded a lot smoother in your head, but not so much when you stutter it out.

But he was right. The soft cotton panties that adorned your hips were damp in the crotch from your arousal, the slickness only growing with each touch, each loving caress from your older lover.

“Remember what I said, pumpkin. Breathe, in and out.” For someone so…intimidating, Joel can never help himself from babying you; especially in this moment of pure vulnerability for you, for your relationship.

Taking his advice, you suck in a deep breath, letting the oxygen sit in your lungs for a few seconds before you exhale just as slowly. The nerves are still there, but they’re calming down, and you can feel yourself enjoying the moment even more.

Joel can tell, too, because his touch becomes bolder. Leaning in, his lips descend upon your neck. He makes sure to carefully nip at the sensitive flesh behind your ear, earning a soft moan. But the acts of affection lower, and he starts to trail down the column of your throat with them, occasionally slipping the tip of his tongue out to taste you.

By the time he’s got you more opened up to the idea of this, you’re squirming under him, trying to press your hips up into his own. He chuckles, the movement making his beard scratch nicely against your jawline.

One of his hands begins to slip down, dipping below the elastic waistband of your underwear. He stops just short of actually making contact with your pussy, his fingers pulling back slightly. Joel leans his head back, only enough to look down at you. He can see the flush on your cheeks and it makes his dick throb. 

“Is this okay?” He asks with a slight tilt of his head, those weathered puppy eyes staring longingly into yours.

“Yeah..” You breathe. The anticipation combined with your arousal is sending tingles up your legs and into the apex of your thighs, amplifying every one of your intense feelings. Your pulse quickens, the steady thrum of your heart filling your ears.

Without hesitation, his fingers finally make contact with your most intimate area. Joel emits a soft groan, while you emit an even softer whimper. His touch is electric, sending jolts of pleasure through your legs and lower stomach, even if he hasn’t touched a particularly sensitive area yet.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked,” he whispers, voice hoarse and full of incredulousness. The older man continues his exploration of your cunt, index finger languidly sliding between your hot folds, feeling the way it glides so easily from your evident need. You’re too flustered to say anything, so you only look away, wanting to shrink away from his gaze. 

“Hey, look at me. Please.” 

You tilt your head back, too weak and in love to ignore his loving plea. A genuine, tender smile curls at the corners of his lips. “I wanna see every emotion on that pretty lil’ face, ‘kay?”

“Fuck-” You gasp again when his digits find your clit, beginning to rub tight circles over the sensitive bud. It throbs under his touch, your legs quivering just a bit while your entrance clenches around nothing, eager to be filled with something. Anything.

“S’alright, let it out.” Joel praises lovingly as he kisses your cheek, continuing his movements that have your hips rocking up and arching to chase that pleasurable feeling. 

With his thumb now replacing his fingers, Joel pays more attention to your entrance. But before he does anything, he suddenly lifts off of you. You whine at the loss of the pleasurable sensation, but he only gives you a soft ‘shh’, reassuring you that he’s nowhere near done working you up.

The older man finally settles between your thighs, his rough hands sliding up to your hips. His fingers curl around the waistband, pulling them off in one easy - or easy-looking - movement. The cool air brushing against your swollen folds makes you shudder, your toes curling on the sheets. It’d be surprising that you aren’t feeling exposed or uncomfortable, yet, you’re with Joel, and you trust him more than anyone.

“God, look at that,” A soft kiss is pressed to your mound, making you jump a little. “Every goddamn inch of you is perfect, sweetheart.” he admires.

It’s like you completely shut out every other feeling when Joel’s tongue comes out, mimicking the way his finger had slid between your folds just minutes ago. You can only focus on the wet, heady feeling of his tongue, of the way it brushes once more against your swollen clit.

Another mousy cry of need escapes you, yet your eyes are trained on Joel’s - you don’t want to disobey him. Watching him go down on you for the first time is so fucking erotic. “You taste even better than I imagined.” 

Fuck. 

Joel’s ministrations become more intense. His tongue flicks and works around your needy bud, not daring to overstimulate you before you two have even begun. Those arms come to wraps around your thighs, keeping you in place as he begins to feast on you like a man once starved. 

“Holy shit,” Your hands lose themselves in the soft salt-and-pepper locks of Joel’s hair, tugging his face closer to your dripping cunt. This only makes him double down on his efforts, the obscene sounds of his tongue licking and lapping filling the room.

Joel stops for a moment, looking down. His hand pulls away from your thigh, bringing two fingers to his mouth. Then, he’s looking back into your heated stare, sucking them into his mouth, getting them slick enough to slip inside of you. 

Now, this part was a little intimidating. Sure, you’ve touched yourself many a time, yet you’ve never put something inside of you. It makes you nervous to think about, but then you stop to  think. He’s never hurt me before.

“Please be careful.” The words leave your lips before you can stop yourself.

“I wouldn’t dream of hurtin’ you, kid.” 

The tip of only one digit breaches your small entrance, making you exhale a shaky sigh. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels unfamiliar, and your thighs threaten to lock around his head. Joel slides it in slowly, pupils blown wide at the feel of your velvety walls clinging to his finger, trying to pull him deeper. “I’d say you’re already up for a second. Carefully, ‘course.” 

Your left hand loosens the grip it had on his hair, coming down to hold the one still around your thigh for support. Joel wastes no time in intertwining your fingers together, offering three comforting squeezes that melt your heart. I love you.

It’s a little longer of a process for your body to relax enough to let him slip in a second digit. The two inside of you stretch you just a bit, and the sensation is…odd. It’s not painful though, not when Joel’s muttering words of praise and reassurance the entire time.

“I think…I think you can move now.” You decide. 

As if on cue, Joel’s fingers begin to slip in and out of your entrance, wanting to get you acquainted with the feeling. And once you do, he curls them up. They brush against your g-spot, feeling the spongy yet hard surface against the tips with each thrust.

Even the slightest touch as your back arched off the bed, a keening moan filling the room. Joel only smiles contentedly, lowering his head to begin suckling at your clit.

Your toes curl once again, and you cry out. “Oh my god, Joel-” Each flick of his tongue, each movement of his fingers has you grinding against his mouth, unable to hold back. The flush on your cheeks has bloomed down to your neck, the cutest sight to the older man who absolutely adores you. “That feels s- so fucking good-”

“Let it out. Be as loud as you need to, baby,” his southern drawl comes out husky with arousal, yet he pushes through. His desires can wait, he’s only worried about making sure you have the best first time. It only comes once, but he wants to make sure you do multiple times tonight.

The praise sets you off, the combination of being fingered and eaten out has you an absolute blissed-out mess. He hums against your cunt, sending vibrations through your entire body. Your hand tightens in his, your head thrown back.

Just another minute or so passes, and you feel the intense tug in your lower stomach. Close, already. Joel can tell as well, seeing the way your walls are fluttering around him as he finger-fucks you with care. His tongue keeps the same steady pace, not wanting to change it up and make you lose the building climax.

“Joel- Joel! Fuck, don’t stop, please!” 

And just like that, one more flick of Joel’s tongue, one more thrust of his digits, has you tumbling headfirst over the finish line. Your climax is intense, easily one of the most intense you’ve had in your short life. Thighs clenched tightly around his head, you cry out in ecstasy as your legs tremble and feel like jelly, walls contracting while your juices spill down to Joel’s palm.

And through it all, the older man’s mouth and hand keeps moving, prolonging your orgasm until you're a writhing, boneless heap on the bed beneath him. Your face glistens with that post-orgasmic glow, chest heaving with each gasp for air.

While you’re still reeling, Joel slowly removes his fingers. He presses kisses up along your body, only stopping when he reaches your lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue - slightly tangy and salty, mixed with something uniquely you. It should gross you out, but it only serves to keep your arousal up, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

“You did so good, so fuckin’ good,” Joel mumbles between kisses. The kisses aren’t overly eager; no, they’re full of adoration and tenderness, and the desire to make you feel the best that you possibly can.

You already feel like a puddle of goo, but the way he’s complimenting you only makes you melt even more. But something snaps you from your thoughts - his length, once again, pressed to your thigh. It’s as hard as a fucking rock, and you know it has to hurt as this point. One glance down and you can see the wet patch from the pre-cum staining his boxers, and it makes you shudder.

“Keep going..” you murmur, voice weak and slightly husky from the climax. Joel only looks at you with a curious lift of his brow. But you only nod, even beginning to rub your thigh against his bulge.

“Are you sure, pumpkin? I mean- fuck.” The growl deep in his chest makes your pussy wetter, and you can see his hips twitch slightly, wanting to chase that friction. “Alright, alright.” He chuckles.

Pulling back so he’s on his knees, the Texan moves to tug his waistband down.The boxers slip down his muscular thighs with ease, revealing the neatly trimmed forest at the base of his shaft, and most importantly, the seven and a half inch length of his cock. It springs free, slapping against his stomach as he leans back, giving you the full view. It’s thick, veiny, and clearly in need of release. It twitches once again, the tip an angry pink.

You’ve felt it multiple times during your makeout sessions, and even seen it during showers together, but this was entirely different.

“This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?” You swallow thickly. The nerves rush back, making your stomach drop and clench with anticipation. All you can think is ‘how is that supposed to fit in that?’

“I won’t let it,” he’s quick to dispel your fears, once again. “I promise ya’.” 

You watch on in aroused disbelief as Joel spits into his calloused palm before he brings it down to wrap around his shaft. “You’ve got me hard as a damn rock, kid.” His head tilts back, strong jaw clenching under his beard as he starts to stroke it with lazy pumps of his fist. It must be only to lubricate it, because he’s back to hovering his body over yours. “Ain’t a surprise though, huh?”

With one hand moving to guide his length to your soaked pussy, the other moves back to slide into your own, holding your hand to support you through what’s going to be your first time having sex.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joel’s soothing words fill you with ease. He kisses your forehead, pouring every ounce of his true love for you into the action. He’s not a man of many words, but you melt down that gruff exterior, and he loves you all the more for it. “So perfect. And all mine, ain’t that right?” It’s possessive, but he’s not mean about it. You nod, and he smiles. “Can you say it for me, pumpkin? Go on, I know ya’ can.”

Trying to gather up the words while Joel’s swiping his cockhead through your folds for lubrication is nearly impossible. Your hand tightens on his, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut to focus on the task you’ve been given.

“I- I’m all yours, Joel.” You finally breathe, gasping when his tip breaches your entrance. It feels thicker than his two fingers, and there’s a slight burning sensation that comes with being stretched like that.

Joel grunts, one hand beside your head to keep himself up. His other simply squeezes yours back, grounding you to the situation. “I know, baby, I know. Deep breaths, breathe through it.” 

The encouragement is enough, and you start to breathe deeply as he begins to sink inch by inch inside of your tight, wet, velvety heat. You’ve never been stretched so fully - or at all for that matter - it makes you wince, yet clench your muscles around him.

“I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” Joel grunts, the pleasure nearly overtaking him. It’s so fucking tight around his cock, he fights the urge to just start thrusting right then and there. But he’d never hurt you, especially not for some selfish need for pleasure. “Say it back, sweetheart, let me hear those words from your pretty ‘lil’ mouth.”

It clicks right then and there; he’s distracting you, trying to make you focus on anything other than the feeling of him stretching you wide around his arousal. It’s so sweet it nearly brings tears to your eyes. In fact, it does. Your eyes fill with unshed tears at the sentiment, and you cling tighter to him.

“I love you.” 

The older man finally buries himself to the hilt inside of your cunt, his breathing slightly ragged. He stills to let you work out the foreign feeling for a few moments, leaning down to kiss your cheeks, even kissing away the few tears that had escaped.

“Say it again, kid.” 

“F- Fuck- I love you-” 

“Atta girl.” Joel encourages warmly, and he begins to piston his hips in gentle, languid strokes. Each thrust has him groaning, mouth pressed against your collarbone, which he begins to mark up with hickeys. It’s a reminder of the trust you put into him, the trust he wouldn’t break for the world. “I love you more.”

Meanwhile, each thrust has you making your own coos of pleasure. The feel of his cock nestled inside of you, each roll of his hips that has his pelvis grinding against your oh-so-sensitive clit, is driving you insane with gratification. With unadulterated need. 

Your bodies fit and move together like pieces of a puzzle, your legs wrapped tight against his waist as he drives into you over and over. The pain and burn had begun to fade, opening up to extreme pleasure every time the slight curve of his cock pressed against your g-spot. 

Your noises, combined with the slapping of flesh, fills your ears, making it impossible to focus on anything else; not that you’d want to anyway. And the noises you were making were making Joel inch towards the edge, no matter how hard he tried to fight against it.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, my god, pumpkin,” Joel growls. Making sure you’re still holding onto his hand, his other one slips back down - making sure to caress your breasts adoringly on the way - to rub circles into your bud. You mewl, the dual stimulation serving to heighten your pleasure even more. Your walls clamp down on Joel’s shaft, making him let out a strangled moan. It was no secret, you were both so close.

“I want- ah, shit-” The Texan mutters, trying to find his bearings while his hips begin to rut faster, chasing the release he craves. “I want you to cum with me, kid. Let it- Let it wash over ya’. Deep breaths.”

Joel redoubles his efforts, wanting you to find that wave of ecstasy beside him. He can tell you're close, and with the way his balls draw up tight, he can tell he is too.

“Joel-” Your nails dig into his hand, leaving deep crescent-shaped marks with every step closer you take to the edge. “I- I’m gonna-”

“Shit, darlin’-” It’s not long before you both find that much-needed orgasm. Joel’s lips crash against yours, groaning gutturally into your mouth, his hips bucking. Your climax triggered his own, walls keeping him deep inside while his cock twitches and pulses, emptying ropes of thick, hot cum deep inside your womb until he’s spent and panting.

Your legs had locked tight around him, squeezing him while you rode out your own waves of pleasure. Your cries were muffled by his lips, by his tongue. It was somehow even more intense than the previous one, your juices flowing and dripping down his shaft.

Joel carefully collapses on top of you, his hands moving to gather your boneless form into his comforting arms. “There you go, sweetheart. You did so good. So good for me.” He whispers against your ear, turning your bodies to the side so you were snuggled against the hard planes of his chest instead of laying under him.

“Was it okay?” He asks, genuinely caring about your wellbeing whilst he peppers kisses all over your face. His softening cock slips out of you with a soft pop, a trail of your combined fluids leaking from your well-loved hole and onto the blankets below. 

“Okay?” You ask in a tired voice, your face pressed against his neck. “That was...that was fucking amazing.”

Joel chuckles, the deep rumble of it vibrating in his chest and filling your ear. “Good, kid. I’m glad.” There’s a sense of accomplishment in the way he holds himself in this very moment. He’s proud he’s satisfied you, turned your first time into something you’ll never forget. “Don’t worry about cleanin’ up just yet. Lemme hold ya’.” 

“Mhm..” You’re so out of it that you’re already falling asleep - and Joel’s kisses aren’t making it any easier to stay awake. The scent of him fills your nose, the comforting smell surrounding you in warmth and familiarity. “How…how was I?”

“The best I ever had. Ever.” His thick fingers start to trace invisible patterns around your back, his movements reverent - he was being genuine with his words, you could hear it in his voice. 

“Get some sleep, baby girl. I love you more than anything. And I mean that.” His breath nearly catches, a lump forming in his throat. The man quickly clears his throat, not wanting to get all sappy on you when you’re trying to sleep. Though, he does whisper one last thing before closing his own dark eyes, letting exhaustion wash over him as well.

“Anything, kid.”

[myownwholewildworld]

masterlist

find me in ao3 | discord: arran.macleod

well, hello there! c:

i go by the name of arran in the world wide web, she/her, based in the uk and in my 30s era. i have been writing on and off for almost 20 years now on different platforms, but this is really the first time i venture into the fanfic realm in tumblr, so please be nice! >: probably you can tell, but my first language is not english but spanish, so if you spot any spelling mistakes, i apologise in advance lol

i've been obsessed with pedrito for quite a while now, so i thought ― i love writing, i love pedro, and, above everything else, i love love love drama, so why not give in and write some fics? i'm sure i'll find some like-minded people here!

i do appreciate any feedback you may want to share with me, as well as interactions (asks, reblogs, comments, likes, anything really!). also please feel free to drop me a message if there's something you would like me to write, i'm always open to suggestions ♡

please assume all my work is 18+, so mdni! do not repost, translate, nor use my work in any way without my explicit permission either.

i'll try to keep this masterlist as up to date as possible.

love,

arran xx

(find my work under the cut!)

🤭 ― fluff

😳 ― light smut

💘 ― explicit smut

💢 ― dark/sensitive theme

🤕 ― angst

🩸 ― graphic content (violence, gore, etc)

wherever you go

series masterlist - 🤭💘💢🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. summary: after the events of 26th september 2003, you find yourself under the wing of the miller brothers. it's the older one who catches your attention, but also the one who drives you fucking crazy. you inevitably find yourself gravitating towards him while trying to navigate this postapocalyptic word you're stuck in, with more than one unpleasant surprise...

uniformed!joel one shots

series masterlist - 💘💢 status: ongoing. pairing: uniformed!joel x f!reader. summary: a series of one shots where we get to see the one and only joel miller and all his sides... as long as he's wearing a uniform, ofc. i'm open to any requests you may have, no matter how wild! check #uniformed!joel to see what's already been suggested. come along, don't be shy!

acta, non verba

series masterlist - 🤭😳💘💢🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: conqueror!marcus x ofc!reader. summary: scotland, 83 AD after the battle of mons graupius. the romans have come up to the boundaries of their empire with a relentless desire to conquer the savages that inhabit the highlands. they won't rest until the Caledonian tribes are subjugated. Marcus Acacius is in charge of your clansmen's fate, but if such fate is similar to your family's, you know you need to do something about it. as the only living daughter of the tribe chief, your people look to you for leadership. power plays, treason, deception, rebellion, war, love, heartbreak, betrayal. and two souls, destined to despise each other, trying to navigate it all.

per aspera ad astra

series masterlist - 💢🤕🩸 status: ongoing. pairing: marcus acacius x emperor's daughter!reader. summary: when your husband dies in battle, his best friend is there to console you, to help you navigate your grief as he does his own. as you become close, feelings flourish. but your father, emperor Traianus, sees Marcus' romantic advances as a way to dethrone him.

the way to a great wide somewhere

read here ; easter eggs - 🤭💘🤕🩸 status: completed. pairing: beast!din djarin x f!reader. summary: cursed to spend the rest of his days in Mand'alor, Din Djarin faces a threat that may break his peace: you. -or- a retelling of the beauty and the beast story.

when the moon howls

read here - 🤭 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. summary: you meet javier in a café during your sabbatical. you see the man that no one does ― the one who is broken, defeated, crushed by his time as a DEA agent. so you make it your purpose to shine some light on his life, one pumpkin spice latte at a time. -or- the story of how you two fall head over heels for each other c:

when the grief howls

read here - 🤭💢 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. same couple as "when the moon howls". can be read as a oneshot. summary: javi and you go back to yours after your idyllic pumpkin patch date and he stays over. you comfort him when his demons catch up with him.

pretty nails

read here - 💘 status: oneshot/completed. pairing: javier peña x f!reader. summary: javi pays for your manicure 😏

[puttersmile]

I had a weird dream and crack ship was born

Frowny: Oh…yeah she seems. Nice. Dogday? Where are you going?

Dogday offscreen running away as fast as he can.

I don't even remember the dream but I remember the ship.

I need possible ship name. Ideas? Right now I'm thinking Chocolate Rain lol.

Gametoons is so bad. But I somehow someway had a liking for Frowny Fox (and maybe some of the other forgotten critters)

I also wasn't satisfied by how i drew Maggie in my last comic. That's what I get for trying to draw her from memory and not just...looking up a picture. So I tried again. I like this design a lot more.

A short oneshot fic under the cut. At the last minute I changed it to be Christmas themed which is why the picture isn't Christmas themed.

The Day Frowny Realized Maggie Wasn't Just Scary

The outdoor mall was chaos. With the holidays right around the corner, critters flooded the square, scrambling for last-minute gifts and bargains. Stalls were crammed with shiny trinkets, festive treats, and decorations that probably cost twice as much as they should. Frowny hated this. Crowds made his fur itch, and the pressure of picking the perfect gift didn’t help.

He was here for a Secret Santa gift exchange, and the name he’d drawn—an acquaintance who loved puzzles and had a mild obsession with coffee—had him stumped. He hovered by a table of mugs, frowning at one shaped like a sleeping squirrel. It was cute, but not too cute, right? He didn’t want to send the wrong message.

Just as he reached for it, something slammed into his side, sending him stumbling into the stall. A sharp hiss of pain escaped Frowny as he caught himself on the edge of the table.

“MOVE IT, BUDDY!”

Frowny turned, his tail bristling, to see a yellow gecko in ugly brown pants rushing through the crowd, shoving critters out of his way like a hurricane. Before Frowny could even get a word out, the gecko shoved another critter. This time, the wrong one.

Maggie Mako.

Oh no.

Maggie didn’t budge. Didn’t even sway. She turned her head slowly, towering over the gecko like a tidal wave about to break. Her grin was wide and full of teeth. “You wanna try that again, pal?”

The gecko froze, his cocky energy deflating immediately. “Uh… my bad,” he stammered, his eyes darting for an exit.

“You shoved someone else, then bump into me? Oh, you’ve got guts. Let’s see if you like keeping them inside.”

The gecko's yellow scales turned white. “S-s-sorry ma'am! D-didn't mean to—uh—yeah, I’ll just—”

“Scram,” Maggie growled, crossing her arms. That was all it took. The gecko bolted, nearly tripping over his own tail as he disappeared into the crowd.

Maggie rolled her shoulders and went back to considering some very ornate holiday cookies, looking more annoyed than anything. “Some critters. That's what I thought.” she muttered, dusting her hands off.

Frowny, who had been standing frozen with one paw still clutching the squirrel mug, finally remembered how to breathe. He adjusted his scarf and was about to slink away unnoticed when Maggie turned, catching him mid-stare.

Her grin softened with recognition. Less teeth, more playful.

“You okay, Foxy boy?”

It took a second for Frowny’s brain to catch up. Maggie had just defended him. Maggie, the big, scary shark woman who could probably bench press two wagons full of pumpkins, had stepped in for him. And now she was looking at him, smiling, as if she hadn’t just terrified someone out of their scales.

“I, uh…” His left ear flicked nervously. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Maggie stepped closer, her shadow falling over him like a blanket. “You look a little pale. Well, paler than usual.” She smirked, her tone teasing but not unkind.

Frowny wanted to say something clever, but his brain had short-circuited. Instead, he noticed something odd: Maggie didn’t seem scary in that moment. She seemed… safe. Yes. safe, strong and confident, but not in a way that made him want to hide. In fact, it was kind of… nice?

And then it hit him. It wasn’t just nice. It was attractive. Hot even? Did his brain really just go there.

Oh no.

Maggie arched a brow, waiting for a response. When none came, she leaned down, eyes twinkling. “What’s the matter, Foxy? Catnap got your tongue?”

Frowny’s ears burned. He yanked his scarf higher over his face. “No. I’m fine. Thanks. Bye.” The words came out in a rushed jumble as he turned and awkwardly strutted away, his tail puffed up like a bottle brush.

Maggie blinked after him, then laughed. “You’re welcome!” she called, shaking her head. “Weird little guy.”

Meanwhile, Frowny ducked behind a corner, clutching his chest like his heart was about to escape. What was that? What was that?! He’d spent weeks avoiding Maggie because she was terrifying, and now, after one incident, he was—no. No, no,no. This wasn’t happening! He did not have a thing for Maggie Mako.

…But her smile had been kind of nice. And her strength had been… really nice. Pretty smile, very white cheerful teeth that didn't frighten him like they'd used to.

“Oh no,” he muttered to himself, ears flat. “This is bad.”

It was the beginning of the end. Or maybe the start of something good? No of course not! Or maybe it could be? Frowny wasn’t sure yet. He just knew he was doomed.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Pirate Nights and Pumpkin Lights

Pairing: Modern!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky and you take Morgan, Billy, and Tommy trick-or-treating on Halloween.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Bucky is a dork lol

Author’s note: This wasn’t planned but I felt like writing something Halloween related today. And I think it turned out lovely. Happy Halloween! :)

Masterlist

“Here, you should hold this a little higher, sweetie,”you explain softly, adjusting the handle of the pumpkin pail in Morgan’s little hands that had tipped over slightly, almost spilling out a little bit of the candy you had received already this evening.

Morgan beams up at you, all rosy cheeks and happy eyes.

From your side, Bucky huffs, a smirk pulling his lips into his cheeks. “This is getting a little boring, don’t ya think doll?” His voice drops into a conspiratorial murmur, leaning in close enough that you feel his hot breath brush over your cheeks. “You know, we could just ditch 'em and finally go to that party at Sam’s.”

You meet his playful grin with an eye roll, own smile not faltering, opening your mouth to protest. Before words can leave your lips, a small voice pipes up on your other side.

“Yes, Y/n, we’re big,” announces Billy with as much authority as he can muster.

“So big!” his twin immediately echoes, nodding vigorously for emphasis, before Billy continues, “We can look after Morgan ourselves!”

You cross your arms over your chest, eyebrows raised, and fix the boys with a look that’s half warning, half amusement. With a wag of your finger, you punctuate your response. “First of all, you two aren’t looking out for anyone. That’s what Bucky and I are here for.”

You shift your pointed finger in Bucky’s direction, eyes narrowing in playful reprimand. “And you, Barnes! Better not give them any ideas.”

Bucky clicks his tongue, feigning disappointment, though you see the lightness in his eyes in the fleeting glance you share with him. Turning around, you take Morgan’s outstretched hand and resume the trek down the sidewalk. Your footsteps crunch softly on the fallen leaves.

“Remember, we promised! We can still go to Sam’s party after dropping off the kids later,” you throw over your shoulder and spot Bucky grinning like the two boys at his side, eyes twinkling in the dim pumpkin-lit night and you let out a small laugh.

You hear the footsteps of the three behind Morgan and you and let yourself get pulled by the five-year-old. She eagerly tugs at your hand, eyes flying around to take in the decor. Her pumpkin pail clatters with each bounce in her step.

You five have been wandering your neighborhood for the better part of an hour now, moving from house to house, earning treats for the little ones. Well at least it was meant for them. You tried to ignore how Bucky himself grabbed a few treats here and there, throwing you a wink when you sent him a reprimanding look.

None of the kids show the slightest sign of tiring out yet, but since Morgan is several years younger than Billy and Tommy, you keep watching her closely.

Wanda and Vision, the twin's parents and also your neighbors, had waved you off earlier and you even believed there was relief in their eyes to get a more peaceful evening for themselves. And since your family and Bucky’s had been friends with the Starks for as long as you could remember, it only seemed natural that you’d be the first ones they’d turn to for an evening like this when it comes to looking out for their daughter.

Morgan is still so young but Bucky and you promised she’d endure the perfect Halloween experience, from the candy-gathering to the careful guard against the occasional spooky scare. Not so surprisingly though, that little girl isn’t scared too easily, only clinging to you a little tighter when another man’s costume felt a little too real.

She’s a little witch tonight, dressed in a thick and flowing black dress that’s slightly frayed to give it a look of age as if she’s an ancient little witch. The fabric shimmers with hints of purple and green and you are impressed at the little details of the costume - the sparky purple belt, a silver buckle shaped like a moon, tiny spiderweb patterns embroidered along the hem and sleeves. But then again, she’s Tony’s daughter. He’s known for going all out with everything.

Her hat is perhaps a little too big for her head but it looks iconic and the way the slightly floppy tip lolls with every step she takes is adorable to you.

The twins are dressed after comic figures you never heard of, but their uncle seemed to have put a lot of effort into their costumes. Tommy wears blue pants, a blue t-shirt layered over a blue long-sleeve shirt. There’s silver reflecting tape running over his chest, seemingly representing a lightning bolt, and his hair is styled with silver hair spray.

Billy wears a blue hair band, along with a long red length of fabric that looks like a cloak around his shoulders, halfway covering up the grey shirt and grey sweats underneath.

You make out a lot of different characters around you, families and kids darting around on the sidewalks - other witches, superheroes, ghosts, cats, monsters, and so on. You can hear their laughter and shouts of “Trick or treat!” as they race from door to door, baskets and bags in hand.

Some parents hang back, chatting and laughing amongst themselves, coffee cups or thermoses in hand, while they watch their children make their rounds with excited cheers.

There’s a group of teenagers dressed as zombies and vampires walking passed you and you watch in amusement as one of the boys eyes you up.

You are wearing a deep violet skirt, layered and flowy, that moves with your steps. It’s paired with a long-sleeve black top with lace details at the cuffs and neckline. A wide, dark corset belt laces up in the front and you love the vintage look it gives you, making you look like the fortune teller you were going for.

Before you left to go out, Wanda had helped you with your makeup a little, dusting your eyes with a shimmer around them that Bucky had complimented when he came to pick you and the kids up.

And honestly, you wanted to do more to Bucky than just compliment him, when you took him in earlier, standing there before you, looking like a Pirate Captain in all his rugged glory.

Under his long and tattered coat, he wears a loose, poet-style shirt in white, the sleeves billowing slightly under the coat, paired with a wide leather belt you wished would just snap open out of sheer will.

There’s a chain around his neck and he wears dark smudged makeup around his eyes. His hair is messier than usual, falling into his eyes in that roguish way, and all you wanted to do since the first second you saw him tonight was drive through those dark locks and twirl your fingers around the strands.

In the distance, a couple dressed as Frankenstein and his bride poses for photos beneath an arch of twinkling orange and purple fairy lights. It made you imagine, for a second, to stand in their place, having Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, with the glowing lights reflecting something in your gaze that you so wished to be reciprocated. That you even believed to have detected in his gaze just moments earlier, illuminated by the orange glow of the pumpkins everywhere around you.

Each home along the street is decorated so differently, with a unique kind of Halloween charm. Carved pumpkins of every size and shape sit on porches, their faces glowing from within, casting soft flickers of orange light that make their grins and grimaces look almost animated.

There is a life-sized skeleton propped up in the garden next to you and you watch Morgan warmly as she giggles and points a finger at it excitedly, tugging on your hand again because she wants you to see it too, hoping you’ll be scared of it since it’s bony fingers seem to be pointing at you.

You humor her.

Bucky laughs softly from behind.

There are webs stretched across bushes, and a door earlier had a big hairy spider sprawled across, that Tommy refused to look at despite him being a big boy.

There are ghosts made from old sheets tied to trees, swaying lightly in the breeze, and scarecrows with floppy hats and painted-on faces slumped in rocking chairs, watching the street with hollow eyes.

The sky above is just dark enough that the stars are beginning to prick through, but with a still soft purple hue lingering on the horizon, the last light of the evening fading away and you take in the earthy autumn air with a deep breath.

The five of you near the next house - the front yard a small maze of jack-o'-lanterns with jagged grins and flickering candlelight.

“Alright you little goblins-”

“Bucky-”

Bucky’s grin widens. “-I spot a treasure ahead!” he cheerily shouts with the flair and enthusiasm of a Pirate Captain uncovering a chest of gold. He pumps his fist in the air and then points dramatically toward the candy bowl waiting on the porch.

“All hands on deck, me hearties!” he bellows, leaning into his role with a grin that lights up his face brighter than the pumpkins could. “There’s loot to be had - sweets for the taking! Move smartly now, or I’ll claim the best spoils meself!”

A laugh passes through your lips before you can stop it and you watch him with fondness as he gives each twin a quick squeeze on their shoulders before they happily bolt off toward the candy bowl.

Bucky’s head turns to you at the sound of your laugh and his eyes again start to twinkle in the light of the pumpkins. Heat spreads through the whole of your body.

He only takes his eyes off of you when Morgan slips her other hand, which is not currently held by yours, into his. You watch as she looks up at him with a shy grin and Bucky glances down at her, expression softening in a warm smile as he gently wraps his hand around hers.

You and Bucky exchange a quick, light smile as you move toward the porch together where Billy and Tommy are already shoveling through the candy.

“There is magic in the night when pumpkins glow by moonlight.”

- The Pumpkin Empress

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

i have been overthinking what buck’s baking and why for too long to not throw my thoughts out into the world, so. here you go.

baked alaska: a fiddly details/impressing people dessert. i bet bobby suggested this as a date night recipe, and since he’d already bought everything buck decided he might as well make it for madney. (imo the kitchenaid was acquired for meringue-whisking purposes, if he didn’t own it already.)

the many loaves: ah, quick breads. some of the easiest baked goods to throw together without investing in fancy equipment or ingredients upfront, just mix and bake! my thought: buck realized that the hours working on the baked alaska were the first he hadn’t spent thinking constantly about tommy, so the first loaf was an experiment to see if that effect was replicable, and then, well. it’s easy to put together another bowl of batter while your first loaf is baking.

baked brie: we have a canon explanation for this one, lol.

garlic bread, baked ziti, bread pudding: by this point, buck clearly thinks the oven is the common element when it comes to not-thinking-about-tommy. (presumably he has been cooking as usual and that had no impact on his tommy thoughts.) i can’t see him having the time to make bread from scratch at the firehouse on shift, so i suspect the breads were store-bought and then enhanced with buck-made garlic butter & custard.

cookies: also very easy to make with little prep time or downtime! sure, you can let the dough chill or rest if you feel like being fancy, but it isn’t necessary to get something edible in the end. the most waiting you have to do before the actual baking is wait for your butter to soften—and as buck says in 8.08, he started out his baking craze using melted butter, so buck was not doing any waiting, not allowing himself any downtime. cookies have similar main ingredient volumes to a quick bread but require less moisture and smaller amounts of mix-ins/flavorings; probably buck switched when he ran low on pumpkin/lemon/etc.

the 8.08 basket of baked goods is not super easy to identify, with the crinkly plastic wrap and all, but it looks to me like a few quick bread loaves, some scones or biscuits, and a larger, yeasted bread loaf. this suggests to me that buck is attempting recipes that are more complex, including some which require ingredients a home cook wouldn’t typically have on hand (e.g. yeast; the loaf-sized bags and twist ties are also pretty specific to baking vs the plastic wrap of the 8.07 loaves).

is his expanding repertoire because the basic recipes aren’t holding off the tommy thoughts as well now that he’s getting good at them? because the people he’s foisting his baked goods off on are getting bored of the same old thing? because he’s getting bored of making the same things over and over again? i’m not sure. i think any of these is a valid interpretation at this point, honestly.

[alespov]

Going Halloween Shopping with Leon

Tw: No actual trigger warnings, just tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: So I'm starting the Halloween series a bit early lol, Feedback is greatly appreciated! <33 Requests are open, especially Halloween ones. I do wish to note, that I'm only accepting requests for Leon and Wesker atm.

“Hey babe look at this one,” you called out to your husband, You picked out the goofy-looking pumpkin and waited for his opinion. He stood before you eyeing the decoration that you didn’t need. 

“Another babe? It looks like all of the other ones.” Initially, Leon's face displayed a blank expression, but as he caught sight of your subtle pout, he proceeded with renewed interest. “If the silly ass pumpkin makes you happy, then we can get it.” He said while taking a sip of his coffee. 

You cheered, placed the pumpkin in your cart, and walked to a different aisle. You looked behind you and noticed Leon wasn’t with you anymore. 

You stopped walking to look at some fall candles and hoped he would catch up with you soon. In the meantime, you would stay in the area, but wouldn’t leave til he was with you. Thankfully there was a few more aisle to look at. You knew Leon liked the woodsy candles, so you looked for one. Not before picking out a few delicious-smelling candles for yourself. 

With anticipation, you gingerly placed the candles into your cart, their flickering flames dancing in your mind's eye. Enthusiastically, you ventured further down to the next aisle, eagerly searching for the elusive Halloween blanket that had captured your heart. As you rummaged through the array of blankets, your heart sank - it wasn't there. Disheartened but determined to brighten up your home with spooky decor, you turned to explore the spooky assortment of throw pillows that caught your attention. The striking patterns and festive colors seemed to beckon, offering a tempting alternative.

After picking out everything you wanted, you got your phone out of your purse and called Leon. To your dismay, he didn’t answer. You were used to that, Leon didn’t answer his phone often. 

“Honey!” you heard Leon call out, he quickly made his way to you with an assortment of stuff. You giggled at your husband while he was putting stuff in the cart while giving the reason why he needed it. 

“Are you ready to leave now?” He asked while pushing the cart toward the checkout, you were surprised by the sudden urgency. 

“What’s the rush babe?” You asked concerned, the both of you made it to the self-checkout before he gave you an answer. 

“ Oh it's nothing, honey, I just have a surprise for you at home.” You smiled with anticipation and hurried to scan all of the items. 

During the drive home, the both of you talked about the evening plans and what to make for dinner. Leon finally pulled into the driveway and parked the car. After he took the keys out of the ignition, he grabbed a bag from the back seat. 

“Here, go inside and put these on, I’ll get the groceries.” He sat the bag in your lap, and the both of you shared a kiss and went your separate ways. Bubbling with excitement you hastily made your way to your bedroom and got the contents out of the bag. You grabbed the soft fabric and placed it on the bed, you noticed the Halloween print. As you put them on, your excitement grew bigger. Leon had bought you Halloween pajamas

You heard Leon putting stuff away downstairs and made your way back down the stairs. Walking into the kitchen, you saw Leon putting pasta away. 

“Babe! When did you pick these up?” you squealed happily. He laughed and gave you a hug while squeezing your butt. “Hmm, when I got the stuff I needed. I also got us a few more things,” he mumbled into the shell of your ear. “Go wait in the TV room.” He gave you another kiss and the both of you parted ways.

As you lounged on the plush couch, your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the mysterious bags resting on the recliner nearby. Temptation tugged at your curiosity, urging you to sneak a peek. However, you restrained yourself, although the flutter of anticipation grew within. All of a sudden, Leon strolled into the TV room, and a delighted gasp escaped your lips. To your surprise and amusement, he was donned in matching pajamas that coordinated perfectly with your own.

“Honey, when did you plan this?” Leon explained that he came up with the idea the morning of, 

“I also got us this.” He pulled out the blanket that you had wanted and a few Halloween movies with some holiday treats. “In this bag, I got fleece fabric so we both can make a blanket while eating Halloween treats and watching movies.” 

You almost couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have somebody like him, You jumped into his arms and he caught you gracefully. 

I also wanted to say, i do have a resident evil centered discord sever <33 { link}