#just >:( excuse you those are MY pj’s

[dathen]

I love how the only difference between Bertie finding a man in his bed and finding a beautiful woman in his bed is that the former gets a shoe thrown at him

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Retiring the US debt would retire the US dollar

THIS WEDNESDAY (October 23) at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, GEORGIA, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

One of the most consequential series of investigative journalism of this decade was the Propublica series that Jesse Eisinger helmed, in which Eisinger and colleagues analyzed a trove of leaked IRS tax returns for the richest people in America:

https://www.propublica.org/series/the-secret-irs-files

The Secret IRS Files revealed the fact that many of America's oligarchs pay no tax at all. Some of them even get subsidies intended for poor families, like Jeff Bezos, whose tax affairs are so scammy that he was able to claim to be among the working poor and receive a federal Child Tax Credit, a $4,000 gift from the American public to one of the richest men who ever lived:

https://www.propublica.org/article/the-secret-irs-files-trove-of-never-before-seen-records-reveal-how-the-wealthiest-avoid-income-tax

As important as the numbers revealed by the Secret IRS Files were, I found the explanations even more interesting. The 99.9999% of us who never make contact with the secretive elite wealth management and tax cheating industry know, in the abstract, that there's something scammy going on in those esoteric cults of wealth accumulation, but we're pretty vague on the details. When I pondered the "tax loopholes" that the rich were exploiting, I pictured, you know, long lists of equations salted with Greek symbols, completely beyond my ken.

But when Propublica's series laid these secret tactics out, I learned that they were incredibly stupid ruses, tricks so thin that the only way they could possibly fool the IRS is if the IRS just didn't give a shit (and they truly didn't – after decades of cuts and attacks, the IRS was far more likely to audit a family earning less than $30k/year than a billionaire).

This has become a somewhat familiar experience. If you read the Panama Papers, the Paradise Papers, Luxleaks, Swissleaks, or any of the other spectacular leaks from the oligarch-industrial complex, you'll have seen the same thing: the rich employ the most tissue-thin ruses, and the tax authorities gobble them up. It's like the tax collectors don't want to fight with these ultrawealthy monsters whose net worth is larger than most nations, and merely require some excuse to allow them to cheat, anything they can scribble in the box explaining why they are worth billions and paying little, or nothing, or even entitled to free public money from programs intended to lift hungry children out of poverty.

It was this experience that fueled my interest in forensic accounting, which led to my bestselling techno-crime-thriller series starring the two-fisted, scambusting forensic accountant Martin Hench, who made his debut in 2022's Red Team Blues:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865847/red-team-blues

The double outrage of finding out how badly the powerful are ripping off the rest of us, and how stupid and transparent their accounting tricks are, is at the center of Chokepoint Capitalism, the book about how tech and entertainment companies steal from creative workers (and how to stop them) that Rebecca Giblin and I co-authored, which also came out in 2022:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

Now that I've written four novels and a nonfiction book about finance scams, I think I can safely call myself a oligarch ripoff hobbyist. I find this stuff endlessly fascinating, enraging, and, most importantly, energizing. So naturally, when PJ Vogt devoted two episodes of his excellent Search Engine podcast to the subject last week, I gobbled them up:

https://www.searchengine.show/listen/search-engine-1/why-is-it-so-hard-to-tax-billionaires-part-1

I love the way Vogt unpacks complex subjects. Maybe you've had the experience of following a commentator and admiring their knowledge of subjects you're unfamiliar with, only have them cover something you're an expert in and find them making a bunch of errors (this is basically the experience of using an LLM, which can give you authoritative seeming answers when the subject is one you're unfamiliar with, but which reveals itself to be a Bullshit Machine as soon as you ask it about something whose lore you know backwards and forwards).

Well, Vogt has covered many subjects that I am an expert in, and I had the opposite experience, finding that even when he covers my own specialist topics, I still learn something. I don't always agree with him, but always find those disagreements productive in that they make me clarify my own interests. (Full disclosure: I was one of Vogt's experts on his previous podcast, Reply All, talking about the inkjet printerization of everything:)

https://gimletmedia.com/shows/reply-all/brho54

Vogt's series on taxing billionaires was no exception. His interview subjects (including Eisinger) were very good, and he got into a lot of great detail on the leaker himself, Charles Littlejohn, who plead guilty and was sentenced to five years:

https://jacobin.com/2023/10/charles-littlejohn-irs-whistleblower-pro-publica-tax-evasion-prosecution

Vogt also delved into the history of the federal income tax, how it was sold to the American public, and a rather hilarious story of Republican Congressional gamesmanship that backfired spectacularly. I'd never encountered this stuff before and boy was it interesting.

But then Vogt got into the nature of taxation, and its relationship to the federal debt, another subject I've written about extensively, and that's where one of those productive disagreements emerged. Yesterday, I set out to write him a brief note unpacking this objection and ended up writing a giant essay (sorry, PJ!), and this morning I found myself still thinking about it. So I thought, why not clean up the email a little and publish it here?

As much as I enjoyed these episodes, I took serious exception to one – fairly important! – aspect of your analysis: the relationship of taxes to the national debt.

There's two ways of approaching this question, which I think of as akin to classical vs quantum physics. In the orthodox, classical telling, the government taxes us to pay for programs. This is crudely true at 10,000 feet and as a rule of thumb, it's fine in many cases. But on the ground – at the quantum level, in this analogy – the opposite is actually going on.

There is only one source of US dollars: the US Treasury (you can try and make your own dollars, but they'll put you in prison for a long-ass time if they catch you.).

If dollars can only originate with the US government, then it follows that:

a) The US government doesn't need our taxes to get US dollars (for the same reason Apple doesn't need us to redeem our iTunes cards to get more iTunes gift codes);

b) All the dollars in circulation start with spending by the US government (taxes can't be paid until dollars are first spent by their issuer, the US government); and

c) That spending must happen before anyone has been taxed, because the way dollars enter circulation is through spending.

You've probably heard people say, "Government spending isn't like household spending." That is obviously true: households are currency users while governments are currency issuers.

But the implications of this are very interesting.

First, the total dollars in circulation are:

a) All the dollars the government has ever spent into existence funding programs, transferring to the states, and paying its own employees, minus

b) All the dollars that the government has taxed away from us, and subsequently annihilated.

(Because governments spend money into existence and tax money out of existence.)

The net of dollars the government spends in a given year minus the dollars the government taxes out of existence that year is called "the national deficit." The total of all those national deficits is called "the national debt." All the dollars in circulation today are the result of this national debt. If the US government didn't have a debt, there would be no dollars in circulation.

The only way to eliminate the national debt is to tax every dollar in circulation out of existence. Because the national debt is "all the dollars the government has ever spent," minus "all the dollars the government has ever taxed." In accounting terms, "The US deficit is the public's credit."

When billionaires like Warren Buffet tell Jesse Eisinger that he doesn't pay tax because "he thinks his money is better spent on charitable works rather than contributing to an insignificant reduction of the deficit," he is, at best, technically wrong about why we tax, and at worst, he's telling a self-serving lie. The US government doesn't need to eliminate its debt. Doing so would be catastrophic. "Retiring the US debt" is the same thing as "retiring the US dollar."

So if the USG isn't taxing to retire its debts, why does it tax? Because when the USG – or any other currency issuer – creates a token, that token is, on its face, useless. If I offered to sell you some "Corycoins," you would quite rightly say that Corycoins have no value and thus you don't need any of them.

For a token to be liquid – for it to be redeemable for valuable things, like labor, goods and services – there needs to be something that someone desires that can be purchased with that token. Remember when Disney issued "Disney dollars" that you could only spend at Disney theme parks? They traded more or less at face value, even outside of Disney parks, because everyone knew someone who was planning a Disney vacation and could make use of those Disney tokens.

But if you go down to a local carny and play skeeball and win a fistful of tickets, you'll find it hard to trade those with anyone outside of the skeeball counter, especially once you leave the carny. There's two reasons for this:

1) The things you can get at the skeeball counter are pretty crappy so most people don't desire them; and ' 2) Most people aren't planning on visiting the carny, so there's no way for them to redeem the skeeball tickets even if they want the stuff behind the counter (this is also why it's hard to sell your Iranian rials if you bring them back to the US – there's not much you can buy in Iran, and even someone you wanted to buy something there, it's really hard for US citizens to get to Iran).

But when a sovereign currency issuer – one with the power of the law behind it – demands a tax denominated in its own currency, they create demand for that token. Everyone desires USD because almost everyone in the USA has to pay taxes in USD to the government every year, or they will go to prison. That fact is why there is such a liquid market for USD. Far more people want USD to pay their taxes than will ever want Disney dollars to spend on Dole Whips, and even if you are hoping to buy a Dole Whip in Fantasyland, that desire is far less important to you than your desire not to go to prison for dodging your taxes.

Even if you're not paying taxes, you know someone who is. The underlying liquidity of the USD is inextricably tied to taxation, and that's the first reason we tax. By issuing a token – the USD – and then laying on a tax that can only be paid in that token (you cannot pay federal income tax in anything except USD – not crypto, not euros, not rials – only USD), the US government creates demand for that token.

And because the US government is the only source of dollars, the US government can purchase anything that is within its sovereign territory. Anything denominated in US dollars is available to the US government: the labor of every US-residing person, the land and resources in US territory, and the goods produced within the US borders. The US doesn't need to tax us to buy these things (remember, it makes new money by typing numbers into a spreadsheet at the Federal Reserve). But it does tax us, and if the taxes it levies don't equal the spending it's making, it also sells us T-bills to make up the shortfall.

So the US government kinda acts like classical physics is true, that is, like it is a household and thus a currency user, and not a currency issuer. If it spends more than it taxes, it "borrows" (issues T-bills) to make up the difference. Why does it do this? To fight inflation.

The US government has no monetary constraints, it can make as many dollars as it cares to (by typing numbers into a spreadsheet). But the US government is fiscally constrained, because it can only buy things that are denominated in US dollars (this is why it's such a big deal that global oil is priced in USD – it means the US government can buy oil from anywhere, not only the USA, just by typing numbers into a spreadsheet).

The supply of dollars is infinite, but the supply of labor and goods denominated in US dollars is finite, and, what's more, the people inside the USA expect to use that labor and goods for their own needs. If the US government issues so many dollars that it can outbid every private construction company for the labor of electricians, bricklayers, crane drivers, etc, and puts them all to work building federal buildings, there will be no private construction.

Indeed, every time the US government bids against the private sector for anything – labor, resources, land, finished goods – the price of that thing goes up. That's one way to get inflation (and it's why inflation hawks are so horny for slashing government spending – to get government bidders out of the auction for goods, services and labor).

But while the supply of goods for sale in US dollars is finite, it's not fixed. If the US government takes away some of the private sector's productive capacity in order to build interstates, train skilled professionals, treat sick people so they can go to work (or at least not burden their working-age relations), etc, then the supply of goods and services denominated in USD goes up, and that makes more fiscal space, meaning the government and the private sector can both consume more of those goods and services and still not bid against one another, thus creating no inflationary pressure.

Thus, taxes create liquidity for US dollars, but they do something else that's really important: they reduce the spending power of the private sector. If the US only ever spent money into existence and never taxed it out of existence, that would create incredible inflation, because the supply of dollars would go up and up and up, while the supply of goods and services you could buy with dollars would grow much more slowly, because the US government wouldn't have the looming threat of taxes with which to coerce us into doing the work to build highways, care for the sick, or teach people how to be doctors, engineers, etc.

Taxes coercively reduce the purchasing power of the private sector (they're a stick). T-bills do the same thing, but voluntarily (they the carrot).

A T-bill is a bargain offered by the US government: "Voluntarily park your money instead of spending it. That will create fiscal space for us to buy things without bidding against you, because it removes your money from circulation temporarily. That means we, the US government, can buy more stuff and use it to increase the amount of goods and services you can buy with your money when the bond matures, while keeping the supply of dollars and the supply of dollar-denominated stuff in rough equilibrium."

So a bond isn't a debt – it's more like a savings account. When you move money from your checking to your savings, you reduce its liquidity, meaning the bank can treat it as a reserve without worrying quite so much about you spending it. In exchange, the bank gives you some interest, as a carrot.

I know, I know, this is a big-ass wall of text. Congrats if you made it this far! But here's the upshot. We should tax billionaires, because it will reduce their economic power and thus their political power.

But we absolutely don't need to tax billionaires to have nice things. For example: the US government could hire every single unemployed person without creating inflationary pressure on wages, because inflation only happens when the US government tries to buy something that the private sector is also trying to buy, bidding up the price. To be "unemployed" is to have labor that the private sector isn't trying to buy. They're synonyms. By definition, the feds could put every unemployed person to work (say, training one another to be teachers, construction workers, etc – and then going out and taking care of the sick, addressing the housing crisis, etc etc) without buying any labor that the private sector is also trying to buy.

What's even more true than this is that our taxes are not going to reduce the national debt. That guest you had who said, "Even if we tax billionaires, we will never pay off the national debt,"" was 100% right, because the national debt equals all the money in circulation.

Which is why that guest was also very, very wrong when she said, "We will have to tax normal people too in order to pay off the debt." We don't have to pay off the debt. We shouldn't pay off the debt. We can't pay off the debt. Paying off the debt is another way of saying "eliminating the dollar."

Taxation isn't a way for the government to pay for things. Taxation is a way to create demand for US dollars, to convince people to sell goods and services to the US government, and to constrain private sector spending, which creates fiscal space for the US government to buy goods and services without bidding up their prices.

And in a "classical physics" sense, all of the preceding is kinda a way of saying, "Taxes pay for government spending." As a rough approximation, you can think of taxes like this and generally not get into trouble.

But when you start to make policy – when you contemplate when, whether, and how much to tax billionaires – you leave behind the crude, high-level approximation and descend into the nitty-gritty world of things as they are, and you need to jettison the convenience of the easy-to-grasp approximation.

If you're interested in learning more about this, you can tune into this TED Talk by Stephanie Kelton, formerly formerly advisor to the Senate Budget Committee chair, now back teaching and researching econ at University of Missouri at Kansas City:

https://www.ted.com/talks/stephanie_kelton_the_big_myth_of_government_deficits?subtitle=en

Stephanie has written a great book about this, The Deficit Myth:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/14/everybody-poops/#deficit-myth

There's a really good feature length doc about it too, called "Finding the Money":

https://findingmoneyfilm.com/

If you'd like to read more of my own work on this, here's a column I wrote about the nature of currency in light of Web3, crypto, etc:

https://locusmag.com/2022/09/cory-doctorow-moneylike/

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/21/we-can-have-nice-things/#public-funds-not-taxpayer-dollars

[gutsby]

Love Tap

Pairing: Dad!Joel x Reader

Summary: Old habits die hard with your husband—touching you at inappropriate times is one of them.

Warnings: 18+. Joel Miller is a MUNCH Oral (f!receiving). Unprotected p-in-v (quickie). Slice of life, domestic-style and Joel calls you ‘Mama’ a whole lot. One playful bite.

Word count: 2.4k

Note: ‘You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up’ is a line from 2Pac’s song, ‘Hit ‘Em Up.’

Joel Miller was a wonderful father.

Occasionally, he forgot how to act like one.

He had a tendency to get a little careless. Sloppy.

Letting the dignified, ever-respectful façade slip every now and again and smacking your ass when you walked past. Copping a feel when you had to squeeze by him in the kitchen. Best of all, pinching your cheek through your skirt while you were cradling the baby—his baby—and leaving you no choice but to shoot him a quick back-the-fuck-up-before-you-get-smacked-the-fuck-up look and a covert middle finger to remind him that he wasn’t supposed to be slapping your butt in front of the kids.

It was just bad practice to engage in those dumb, flirty antics, particularly when your four-year-old son had made it his mission in life to imitate everything dad did.

But again, Joel would sometimes forget that.

On a morning when he’d woken up a little too early with an erection that was a tad too stubborn to ignore, he got especially forgetful. He found himself plastered to your backside at the edge of the bathroom counter with a grin, knowing damn well you only had twenty-five minutes to get the family dressed, fed, and on the road.

“Joel, you are so—”

“Quick. I’ll be quick.”

His eyes suddenly pleading with yours in the mirror. You just might’ve had the willpower to turn his honeyed gaze away were it not for the lips that followed it. Tracing the shell of your ear and behind it, down your neck, leaving trails of soft kisses down the skin until he reached the collarbone, your sweet spot, and licked it—the bastard.

“Five. Minutes.” Your words were equal parts invitation and warning as you shimmied your PJs over your butt.

“You know I’ll have ya finished in two, sweet pea,” Joel teased—but deep down, you knew he wasn’t kidding.

Both of you had cum and were done in a record-breaking four and a half minutes, swapping pyjamas for normal clothes in less than half the time and stepping back out of the bathroom with your hair only marginally tousled.

By now you had the ‘Pre-K starts in thirty’ types of quickies down pat. You were proud. You glanced over your shoulder to see a similar glint in Joel’s eye, and as you started out the bedroom door, you felt a tap on your ass—or, with the sheer breadth of your husband’s hand, more like a WHACK, followed by the sound of a stifled laugh.

“Can Daddy get some more’a that later?” he quipped.

“More’a what?”

Aw, hell.

Your sweet, forever nosy mini-Joel was standing directly in front of you with two pinched brows and a mostly eaten dino nugget clenched tight in his tiny fist.

You opened your mouth to conjure up some half-assed excuse for the spank your son just saw, but then your husband was scooping the kid up in his arms and toting him straight down the hallway, and you heard, faintly:

“Whatcha gettin’ from Mama later?”

“None of your beeswax, bubs.”

Joel got his second helping around lunchtime.

He’d been in between calls with what felt like an endless stream of subcontractors, suppliers, architects, and project managers when he swung by the house. You were in the midst of baking cardamom buns when he blew through the kitchen like an EF5 tornado and decided he’d be feasting on something else entirely.

“Joel, my buns,” you whined as soon as he’d carried you up the stairs and tossed you onto the bed, eager as ever.

“Fuck your buns.”

“You already fucked ‘em this morning—can you relax?”

Your husband already had your pants tugged halfway down your legs. You let him, then helped him kick the fabric the rest of the way off when it got to your ankles.

“You’re a fuckin’ maniac, Miller, y’know that?”

Something in the way he smirked as he sank his face between your bare thighs told you he already knew that. You would’ve liked to try and scold him again—give him a little more grief for the baked treats that would surely be burnt to a crisp by the time he was done—but then you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your slit, and you refrained.

Even if you’d wanted to, you scarcely would’ve been able to form a single word apart from, ‘Fu-cking hell, Joel’ and ‘Right there, right thereohfuuuuuuckfuckfuck.’

That was just fine by your husband.

In fact, he seemed perfectly content to lap at your slick, glistening folds while you moaned and cursed his name; it made him proud. Appreciative. Maybe even a tad too smug for his own good, if he were being honest, because the way you fisted his hair and rutted your hips against his face made you act a little more like him. A touch more reckless, sloppy, and desperate than your daily obligations as parents would seem to allow. A bit less proper and refined and a lot more slutty—all for him.

Joel teased your clit with a few soft touches from the tip of his tongue, and you almost tore the sheets in two.

“That feel good, Mama?” he hummed.

“F-Fingers, fuck, Joel— fingers,” you begged.

Still using his tongue, Joel drew the shape of a lemniscate extra slow just to spite you. You whined and bucked your hips in protest, but the man was undeterred—he knew exactly what he was doing. The only way he could be tempted to use his fingers now would be to spread your lips apart and lick you more, which he did.

Joel licked and sucked and drove you up the fucking wall with those figure eights until you nearly couldn’t take it. In one hasty, desperate move, you tilted your hips and tried to slip a finger past Joel’s mouth, into your cunt.

He bit that finger. You yelped.

“JOEL!”

It wasn’t that the bite actually hurt—his teeth barely grazed skin—but rather the way he refused to speed up. Gauging your wants and your needs with expert precision, he massaged the hood of your clit with his tongue and took care to plant suckling kisses as he did. You moaned and squeezed the bedspread, relishing the vulgar sounds of his mouth and the need he was building inside you. You turned your head to the side and whined into the pillow, knowing from the depths of your soul you needed release, but Joel just wouldn’t oblige you…yet.

When he grinned against your wet, warm, and slippery folds, his mouth might as well have joined in and said, ‘Keep going—you’ll cum on my tongue when I say so.’

Instead, Joel opted to say ‘Mama’ again, softly.

Mama.

He always called you that when he took you extra slow. Sometimes when he took you quick, too. Like a reminder to you both that you were, in fact, the mother of his children, and if the man had had it his way he’d have given you fifty more by now, daycare bills be damned.

He was generous like that. Always giving, giving, giving.

Just not when it came to doling out orgasms sometimes.

“I have a divorce lawyer on speed dial, just so you know,” you hissed through gritted teeth, head falling back when Joel’s tongue sank forward—inside you, then, “FUCK!”

“Mhmmm,” he hummed before retracting once more. Licking the soft, fleshy rim and nearly eliciting a scream.

Joel traced a circle with his tongue. He savored the taste. While you were whining and grinding your hips against the wet spot underneath you—a puddle that would only grow larger the longer he went on—your husband was devouring you, kissing your thighs every now and then.

“Well, if we split, my tongue goes too,” Joel said. Smug.

“Texas is a community property state,” you murmured, “I taught you how to eat pussy so your mouth is a marital asset.”

Silently, Joel wondered how that argument might hold up in court, grinned, then continued licking your cunt. You squeezed his head with your thighs, dug the balls of your feet in the sheets, and let out a lewd, pornographic scream that could’ve woken half the street. Luckily, your neighbors were probably all at work, your bedroom walls insulated just well enough to mask the noise, and Joel’s resolve crumbling slowly as he kissed between your legs.

One wanton, shameless, ‘I’m gonna cum, Joel, please’ was like music to his ears. He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten with a wife and mother as sweet as you, so upright and polite in your day-to-day life and then a hot, trembling mess beneath his tongue when he needed you like this the most. Surely he couldn’t treat you so mean.

Joel wedged two thick fingers in your slick, dripping heat and beckoned you to him as kindly as he possibly could. Rubbing the pads of both digits, callused as they were, against the spongy insides of your core and flicking them forward—‘C’mere, Mama, Daddy’s right here, go on’— so of course, you had no other logical choice but to cum.

It was all habit by now. A dazzling, sumptuous routine.

And Joel Miller was certain he’d never tire of seeing it.

Your spine arched off the mattress an inch or two, toes curling at the feeling, and while the sensation spanned over your body, your husband was the first to see it, sense it on his lips and tongue and fingers just as well. He squeezed your hip, told you how fucking pretty you looked when you came for him, then patiently waited out the spasms and cries and fingers lacing through his soft, dark locks like he was your last remaining tether to earth.

Then he kissed the inside of your thighs and smiled.

“All better, honey?” he hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed back.

“Still want a divorce?”

A smirk and a response of ‘Not until you knock me up at least one more time’ was hovering somewhere over your tongue when you felt the bed shake. Buzzing. Vibrating?

Joel sat up between your legs and yanked something out from under his ass. He peered down at the thing—staring into a screen—and cocked a brow as he looked back up.

“Someone’s been naughty,” he said simply. Grinning.

He lobbed the phone your way, and you just barely managed to catch it between two trembling hands.

Incoming Call: Francisco C. Morales Elementary

You shot Joel a look and answered it instantly.

Disoriented, disheveled, and slightly foggy from climax, you half-expected to find one of your son’s disgruntled teachers on the other end of the line, reminding you that today was a noon dismissal and everyone was supposed to pick their kids up an hour ago. Your husband was the one who would always keep up with school schedules, so your gaze narrowed at him, butt scooting up the bed while he tried to dive right back between your legs.

“He-llo?”

You smacked a hand away from the front of your blouse.

“Is this Mrs. Miller?” a voice trilled through the phone.

Yes, unfortunately, it was.

You almost had to backhand Joel across the face when he tried to bite the button off your brand new top, teeth ruthless in their pursuit of getting you fully naked now.

“This is she,” you squeaked.

Someone cleared their throat on the other end of the line—as though they knew you had a broad, hulking husband with a cock as hard as sheet metal trying to tear your clothes off while you talked. You stifled a shriek and a giggle when you felt your relentless man move down.

Joel was busy working your blouse from the bottom with that feral mouth of his when the voice sounded again:

“We’d really appreciate it if you and your husband could come see us this afternoon to have a little chat about—”

Your eyes widened. You clutched your phone even tighter and this time, more seriously, shoved Joel away. When he frowned and started to pout, you raised a finger.

“A-About what? Has my— has he done something bad?” Your voice all of a sudden tight, words wavering just enough to snag your husband’s attention too.

“We can explain more when you get here, he’s just…”

‘What the fuck?’ Joel mouthed silently, leaning in.

“What? What’s he done?” You couldn’t help it.

You heard a long sigh across the line, and you knew that wasn’t good. It sounded a lot like the kind of sighs you made whenever your baby made a colossal mess all over the kitchen floor, or your husband slammed a door too loud and woke the kids from their nap, or your son just—

“—keeps slapping his classmates on the butt.”

“Wait, what?”

You blinked. Joel coughed. Together, half-naked on the bed, you sat up a little straighter and leaned even closer into the phone, hearts starting to thud in your chests.

“Your son was just…spanking other kids and asking if he could ‘get some more’a that later,’ and when his teacher asked him where he’d learned to do a thing like that—”

You turned. Joel paled. Your gaze could’ve seared a hole through the front of his skull if you stared any harder, and just as your son’s principal continued talking, Joel raised his hands in surrender, already trying to apologize.

“Honey—”

“—and he told her he saw your husband do it at home—”

You didn’t need to hear another word. You were already fishing for your pants, yanking them back up your legs and brushing aside your husband’s soft, red-faced attempts at consolation, and when you were dressed, you started straight for the door. Already babbling some half-coherent apology to the woman on the phone, dodging Joel’s impossibly large hands and arms and hugs as he tried to pull you back into his chest and tell you he was sorry. You just might’ve let him, and maybe even believed him to be sincere, if you didn’t see the tiniest smirk on his lips as he fought to wrangle you in.

You’d made it to the door and were just about to pivot to give Joel the finger, tell him this was not funny at all, and he was coming with you right now, when both of you halted at the threshold and were obliged to turn again.

You sniffed the air, and your husband made a face.

Was it—

Before you could think, a plume of smoke drifted out through the kitchen door. Your eyes widened, and right as the fire alarm let out its piercing scream, you wailed,

“My buns!”

[jaysng]

when your daughter walks in on you | pjs

pairing: husband!jay x wife!reader

genre: married au, comedy (tried my best), fluff

warnings: suggestive, jay sucking boobs like a madman

your husband has had an exhausting week and needed some way to relieve the stress he had related to his workplace. 

and that’s why, you were here know trapped in his hold in the kitchen, “missed you s’much baby” he said as he open mouthed-ly(?) tracing your neck leaving kissed and licks here and there til he reached your earlobe. 

as soon as you opened the door, he looked at you, yes with those goddamn eyes. next thing you know, you’re pulling him from his tie. “fuck can we do this? like in here—“ he asks as he lifts you up easily in one go and puts you on the counter“i have put her to sleep, use me all you want jay.” 

the approval was enough for jay to let his guard down as he dives in again attaching your lips with his, you were wearing a cute loose set of night wear with easy access, in one swift move he pulled your top down by the shoulders as he took a step back appreciating your mounds. 

giving each attention one by one, jay knew how needy you grew when he gave most of his attention to your chest he took your left nipple between his fingers and pinched it, fondling with the other one all while keeping eye contact.

“l-lick them jongseong, feels s’good when you do that” you said as you kept your hand on his, the one massaging your breast as he bend and took one of it in his mouth.

licking, sucking, making out messily with saliva everywhere as you arched your back with your hand on his hair and the other on your mouth to not disturb your ‘sleeping’ daugther. 

few minutes into it, jay felt your body really stiff, not squirming or whimpering anymore, maybe she’s too lost in i—

“appa don’t you think you’re abit to old to be doing that?” 

shit

shit

shit

oh fuck

his head shoots to the direction of the stairs as he sees your 4 year old daughter, half sleepy half astonished, wiping her eyes with her chubby hands. 

now standing straight, not knowing what to do he stares into blank space for a while then stares at you

blink

blink

“ah, yes.. baby uh…” you say breaking the silence as you thought, was better than the silence. “didn’t you say she’s asleep” he whispers, almost just mouths while shooting his big wide eyes at you. 

brushing a hand through your hair, you get of the counter “could’ve atleast pulled my shirt back up jay” you mouth another sentence at him blaming him in panic while fixing your top. 

“baby, weren’t you sleeping?” you ask as walk to her and run a hand over her head, “i dunno… eomma i heard sounds… breaking sounds! i thought bad people came in..” she says, still clumbsy with her words as you chuckled, 

“oh well, uh mommy and daddy were playing a game okay?” you mentally face palm yourself as you hear jay’s embarrassing made up excuse, still funny as even you were out of excuses— i mean what the hell would you tell your 4 year old daughter who just walked in on your husband with your titty in his mouth?? 

“hmm” she says as she looks around, honestly not taken aback or interested in it at all, thank god thank god she was in her sleepy state “i want ice cream” she demands as jay now picks her up in his arms.

the sigh of relief that left both of your mouth were synchronized, you knew your daughter and how she doesn’t process anything when she has just woken up, similarly and gladly this was the case as for what she just saw. 

“you can’t have ice cream baby, it’s midnight.” jay coos at her as she puts her face on jay’s neck and nods already drowsy and sleepy, you felt bad for her to be woken up and disturbed like that. 

shooting at sorry glance at jay who was pretty much sulky right now as the sexual tension was ‘ruined’ and probably not coming back again for today as your daughter was pretty much stuck by the glue to his chest as she slept.

putting her to bed, you entered the room as you found jay on the bed hands splayed around the bed, as the baby slept peacefully in her room now, the two of you exchanged knowing glances and started quietly chortling over what just happened

“a message would be good?” you say between the laughter sitting beside his laying figure putting his head on you lap. 

“massage it is.” he says, smiling with embarrassment.

[buckyalpine]

You need Bucky’s cuddles

Bucky x civilian reader

Some angst with all the fluff

You needed cuddles. It was one of those days. Nothing was particularly wrong, you just needed to be held. Specifically by a certain super soldier. Bucky had been away on missions for the past 2 months, only staying home for a few days in between to recover before he was sent off again, leaving you alone in the large compound. Tony had been more than welcoming, happy to let you live with Bucky where you'd be safest.

You'd waited all day for him to get home so you could jump into his arms and snuggle up against his chest, desperate for his warmth. The low rumble of the jet had you running off to the hangar, your feet moving faster than you could comprehend as soon as the doors opened.

"Hi sweetheart" Bucky's voice was muffled as he kissed the top of your head, catching you with ease, chuckling at the way you practically crawled up him, your legs wrapping around his waist. "My pretty girl"

"Missed you" You kept your face tucked against his neck, breathing in his scent, sighing in relief at the fact that he had no injures. You wanted nothing more than to drag Bucky up to your shared bedroom and slip under the covers for some desperate cuddle time, but instead you found yourself being set back down on your feet.

"Missed you too sweets butI gotta finish up some stuff with Steve and I'll see you soon okay?"

Your reunion was short lived as he jogged off behind the captain, both men disappearing around the corner seconds later, leaving you alone again. Your heart sunk as you made your way back inside, shaking off the uneasiness you felt.

Cuddles. You just wanted some cuddles.

But his job was to save lives, keep the world safe and you were just a civilian. Nothing you did compared the the danger he put himself through on a daily basis, you had no right to burden him by being clingy and annoying, no matter how much you missed him.

You decided to busy yourself by making a snack for the both of you, placing his share on a plate for when his was finished while you ate at the kitchen island. You didn't want to bother Bucky by being overly clingy, glancing at the clock every so often, hoping he'd come down soon. You made your way up to see if Bucky wanted to eat anything, stopping when the sound of booming laughter coming from the conference room caught you off guard.

"Bucky?" You stopped by the conference room where the Sharon, Sam, Steve and Bucky sat, papers scattered across the table though it didn't seem like they were particularly busy, all washed and changed into comfy clothes.

"Hey doll, be done in a bit" Bucky smiled while the others greeted you, going back to looking over their mission report.

"Just wondered if you were hungry" You placed a sandwich and some cookies in front of him, hoping he'd take a break and hang out with you for a bit but instead he thanked you with a kiss to your hand.

You left the group to their task, putting on a movie n your bedroom to pass the time, still glancing over at the clock as minutes had turned into an hour.

Then two.

You found yourself holding onto his pillow, your throat oddly tight as if you were fighting against your body's attempt to release all your pent up emotions.

You needed your boyfriend.

You weren't sure why. You missed him so much and the gnawing anxiety you had been feeling all day kept growing with each second he wasn't there to make you feel better.

You felt awful because you had no reason to feel this way yet it only seemed to get worse. Around dinner time, you didn't bother going down, dragging yourself out of bed to change into your pjs and trudging down the hall in hopes that the team would be wrapping up.

It wasn't uncommon for post mission meetings to take a full today but surely they could excuse Bucky from this one at least for a little while. The scent of take out carried down the hall making you stomach rumble sending your emotions tumbling down further. You hesitantly stepped into the room where they were still gathered.

"Will you come to bed soon?" You asked hopefully, shuffling on your feet while Bucky set down the papers he was skimming over. Steve and Sam looked over at you with apologetic smiles while Sharon walked over with a tray of coffee cups.

"I'm a little busy y/n, I'll come up soon, alright?" Bucky glanced over his shoulder to where you stood with your soft pjs and fluffy slippers, not catching the way your face fell as he grabbed a mug and hummed, "we still have to go over a bit more of today's footage, give me about an hour"

"You'll come in an hour?" Your bottom lip jutted out slightly, unable to control the tiny pout that made its way to your face.

"Promise love, an hour and not a minute longer, wait up for me okay?"

"Alright" You kissed his cheek before bidding the rest of them good night, ignoring the way your chest felt tight, not having the guts to tell your boyfriend that you needed him right then and there. You curled up under the sheets, tossing and turning, the bed feeling entirely too empty when you knew he was home, the faint light of the clock staring at you in the face.

You waited and waited, the lonely feeling settling deeper in the pit of your stomach as one hour turned into two. You could hear the sound of laugher from the conference room again as more time passed.

He wasn't coming.

****

Bucky hadn't noticed the time as he chuckled over a video of Sam falling out of the air, snorting each time Sharon replayed it. As soon as the mission was over, he wanted nothing more than to spend the day with you but he figured it would be best to get the mission reports out of the way first. Nothing made him happier than being home, especially when the first thing he saw was your happy face.

He munched on a fortuned cookie, scribbling down his signature on the last few sheets of paper, getting up and stretching before glancing over at the clock, his eyes growing wide when he saw the time.

Shit.

****

Hot tears started to trickles across the side of your face and onto the pillow, no longer contained by your rapid blinking. You froze at the sound of the door creaking open, the faint light from the hall pouring into the room making you bury yourself into the sheets further.

"Doll?" Bucky quietly shut the door behind him, his heart sinking at the sight of the little ball wrapped up under a heap of blankets, the sound of your muffled sniffles breaking his heart further.

"Oh angel" He strode over, slipping under the covers to wrap his arm around you, your tear stained face stayed pressed against the pillow, your arms wrapped around yourself with how badly you wanted to be held. "What's wrong love"

"M-missed you. Just wanted cuddles" Your voice came out a strained whimper, melting into a sob when he pulled you into his chest, stroking up and down your back. "Missed you so much"

"M'sorry love, I'm so so sorry" Bucky cooed, feeling more guilty and awful than ever for neglecting you and not paying attention to the time, squeezing you to his body as if you'd disappear if he let go. "M'here babygirl"

"I didn't want to bother you" You hiccupped while Bucky hushed you, shaking his head, blinking back is own tears as he kissed your dampened cheeks, before cradling your head to his chest again, the steady beat of his heart calming you down.

"Never, you'd never bother me angel, you're my priority, you always come first" Bucky's voice grew shaky, the realization of how much he missed you as well hitting him all at once, feeling the soft warmth of your body against his, the scent of your shampoo, the feeling of being home. "You deserve all the cuddles my sweet little bunny, all the cuddles in the world"

You whimpered while Bucky slipped his hoodie off, letting you rest against his bare skin, holding you securely. He frowned at the sound of your tummy rumbling, pulling away making you whine, his fingers tilting your chin to meet his eyes.

"Did you eat dinner baby?"

"I was waiting for you" You whispered while Bucky internally smacked himself, he had half a mind of letting Steve use him for training instead of their industrial punching bag. The blonde would certain be on board if he found out.

"Come here my love, let me make you dinner" Bucky scooped you up in his arms, carrying you down to the kitchen where he set you onto the counters before quickly putting together his ma's pasta recipe, one of the few meals you'd live off of. He plated a bowl and taking you right back upstairs where he fed you while keeping you tucked in his lap, kissing you between giving you bites.

"Promise you'll drag me out by the ear next time baby, I'd drop everything in a heart beat for you" Bucky cupped your face in his hands after you'd finished eating, still feeling immensely guilty, especially when you asked for so little. " Especially when you want cuddles?"

"You'll cuddle me any time?" you asked curiously while he chuckled, pulling the sheets to cover you both, once again hugging you close to his body, this time the both of you shirtless, bare skin pressed against each other.

"Any time love. Could be in the middle of a mission, I'll find us an secret place to snuggle"

"Any time?"

He turned off the alarm that was already set to wake him up for training, kissing your forehead before closing his eyes.

"Any time"

[charliemwrites]

Sniff, sniff…. Woof.

Content: Voyeurism

“Johnny? Johnny, baby, come here!”

Your big wolf boy comes bounding in from the living room as you shut the front door, immediately rearing up to sniff at your neck and face and hands. Satisfied, he licks your cheek and drops down again.

“Alright, listen up, handsome.” You grab his cheeks, scritching along his jaw and grinning as his big blue eyes go dopey. “My sister and her husband are going to stay the night. You are going to be a polite boy because you love me and don’t want to give my sister anything to talk shit about. Yes?”

A sneeze that he (for once) aims away from you. You laugh, drop a kiss between his eyes.

“Good talk.”

As usual, he follows you through the house as you shed clothes and shoes and bags. You ramble about the grocery store and your day, mostly just to get it out so your headspace can be clear for the evening. Helps to have a little (relatively) listener following at your heels.

He camps out in the bathroom while you shower, licking the glass door until you scold him - per usual. And again when he tries to lick the clean water off your leg. Only starts getting restless and grumpy when he sees you change into “outside” clothes rather than pjs.

You groan as he tries to herd you away from your own closet. Must be mixed with a shepherding dog because he’s a damn pushy jerk.

“Enough, bud,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t wanna go much either. But it’ll be worse if I don’t.”

He mouths off at you, a new thing he’s started up that reminds you of a husky. Maybe you should get one of those doggy DNA tests.

“I know I know,” you coo, shimmying into a pair of pants that your sister won’t be able to tease makes your ass look flat. “I’d rather snuggle up and watch 90s vampire movies too. But I already said I’d go and this means I’ll be able to skip seeing her on her birthday.”

More grumbles, but at least he climbs up on the bed to pout. You finish dressing and head for the vanity - no way you can go out with your sister without makeup.

As you pass, you roll him over to scratch his belly - politely ignoring his reaction. God, you really need to get him in for a neutering. If you catch him humping one more pillow—

When it’s time to go, you drop down to give him one last hug.

“Be good, baby. I’ll be home soon with some new friends. I love you.”

—

After dinner, your sister’s husband suggests a bar. And, of course, it’s a sports bar. Man can’t go more than an hour or two without.

You and your sister chat while his eyes stayed glued to the screens. Well, she chats. You mostly just provide the audience she constantly craves, the validation she always needs.

At some point your excuse yourself to order another drink, weaving between the patrons and sighing at a chance to let your face rest for a moment. While you’re waiting, someone brushes up close behind you, startles you.

“Och, sorry, hen. Madhouse in here.”

You blink, tilt your head back to see a gorgeous pair of blue eyes shining down at you. Takes your breath away.

“Oh! Um, no problem, I get it.”

You try to scoot as much as you can - but it really is packed, especially at the bar - and the man takes the opportunity to occupy any free space you have.

Not that you’re complaining. He’s got the type of face they put on magazines with hooks like “sexiest man alive.” A killer grin as he winks down at you, arm bracing on the bar.

“Buy ya a drink for bein’ so rude?”

You’ve barely gotten the start of, “oh it’s alright,” out before he’s signaling the bartender. His stature and presence gets him instant service though, so you let it go, fidgeting restlessly.

Even his voice sounds like a sin worth committing. He’s too attractive. Too handsome to not know it; and definitely too handsome to be chatting you up and ordering you a drink.

“You here with anyone?” he asks with an edge that makes your spine prickle. Yet you almost feel like you imagine it. His tone is normal, his expression hasn’t changed and yet. Something subsonic in the timbre of his voice, maybe.

“My sister and her husband,” you reply.

“No husband of your own?”

You try to laugh, it comes out strained and awkward. “Ah, the only man in my life has four legs.”

Instead of looking annoyed by the brush off, his eyes spark.

“Dog?”

“Yup!” And okay, alarms in your head aside, you’re always happy to talk about Johnny. He’s a safe topic. You fish your phone out of your back pocket and show him your lock screen.

The man takes a quick look at the screen, an odd, private smile flicking across his face. There and then gone, before those intense eyes are locked on you again.

“He friendly?”

You laugh a bit, perk up as the bartender returns with your drink. “Not with men. Thanks for buying!”

as you turn to go, he grabs your hip. Not hard, or even too low. But you gasp quietly, the heat of his palm searing through your clothes.

“Name’s soap, by the way.”

Infinitely more nervous now, you stutter out your own and then retreat to your sister and her husband.

Spend the rest of the night pretending not to watch Soap. He doesn’t return the courtesy, eyes trained on you, lurking around the bar. So visible it seems to only you. Something about the way the light catches his eyes reminds you of when Johnny senses a threat. When he gets low and growly, hair standing on end, eyes focused.

Soap looks like he’s hunting you.

Thankfully, your sister complains about the noise after an hour or so and the three of you leave. You’re relieved to be going home.

As you step inside, you call for Johnny again.

“Wait, who the hell is Johnny?” your sister’s husband asks, an odd look on his face. “You’re living with someone?”

You snort a bit. Does he seriously not remember you talking about your dog?

“Yeah,” you joke, “he’s the love of my life, my one and only—”

You hear the clack of the doggy door and call out again. Johnny trots in panting.

“Did you just come in from a run?” you chuckle, putting a hand out in greeting.

He comes right up to you, presses his nose to the spot where “Soap” grabbed you and snuffles.

“I know, I smell wrong,” you soothe.

He grumbles and licks at your shirt, but you gently nudge him away, turning as your sister scoffs.

“You still do that thing where you talk to them like people?” She asks. “Don’t you think that’s… childish?”

“Johnny’s basically a person in a human body,” you reply, laughing. “You’ll see.”

“Dogs shouldn’t have human names,” her husband pipes up, reaching for Johnny.

“No, wait—”

Johnny snaps just shy of his fingers and puts himself bodily between you two.

“Easy!” you yelp, hooking your hand in his collar. “Sorry, I meant to warn you - Johnny’s shy with men.”

“He almost took my bloody hand off!”

“He’s just protective. Johnny, heel.”

He stops snarling, but plants himself at your feet right there, eyes sharply trained on your brother in law. Your sister snorts.

“How are you supposed to get men back here, then?”

You jump as Johnny barks, a full deep one that your rarely ever hear. Your sister startles too, then scowls.

“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “Anyway, let me just get the sheets for the spare room and we can call it a night.”

Johnny stays close at your heels the entire time, though you swear he throws a nasty glance back at your sister’s husband.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

MK1 characters and sick! reader

(johnny cage, bi-han, smoke +liu kang & shang tsung)

not proof read not thought out not nothing i am SICK and this is my OUTLET (again this is not serious, just goofy stuff)

Johnny Cage

- sick equivalent of “it’s not uterus it’s uterUS”

- Especially if he doesn’t have much going on in his schedule? It’s like there’s two sick people in the house

- He has ZERO issues laying in bed all day with you- until he decides on a group excursion to the living room couch where you will… continue to lay there! Exciting.

- Depending on how sick you are he’d be more serious, if it was just a little cold and nothing to worry about, expect to have some movies in the back while you doze in and out of his incessant chatting

- (I personally think he can’t cook well) so your favourite takeout is ordered and put into one of those fancy ass bowls to make it look like a home cooked meal. Bless him.

- Wearing matching ugly pjs like the worlds bleakest slumber party

- Says he doesn’t care about getting sick from being close to you, but makes jokes about your ‘heebies’ getting all over him if you ask for any physical contact (he will over enthusiastically oblige)

- If you’re seriously ill, he would be at a loss, especially when his usual demeanour can’t seem to cheer you up.

- Since i imagine his relationship with his parents isn’t the best, he’d probably call one of your family members to ask how to best care of you, and take it from there

- He wouldn’t treat you like a glass vase though, still cracking jokes while he attends to your needs; but in a way where you can tell he’s trying to mask how vulnerable he feels in his care for you.

- Calls you his sicky wicky honey boo boo sugar tits pumpkin pie

- Definitely gets the man flu once you recover no question about it

- As you lay in bed, sweating from your fever with this huge piece of man meat hugging up on you, all you can hear in the back of your head is “BAAAAYBBUHHHHH…. IT HUUURTTSS…” (congratulations! You can see into the future!)

- Also would call his assistant to ask for help. What are they going to know? They just do his accounting!

Bi Han

- You are sick? Have fun not being allowed to do ANYTHING. No chores, no training, no oily food, no Netflix- NO NETFLIX?

- He claims that extended screen time will only agitate your condition.

- He takes it upon himself to care for you; making easy to digest food, offering to help you shower when you feel physically weak, buying all sorts of medicines, etc.

- it would be easier to send someone to do some of these tasks (aside from the showering.) but no. Out of the kindness of his heart? Yes, of course. He loves you dearly. But also because he does not trust anyone to be as competent as he is.

- As the grandmaster gives you several containers of traditional Chinese medicine, you can only wonder if some pharmacist is sponsoring him. If you dare complain they taste horrible, he will GLADLY take a pill or a bit of powder just to show you were being a wuss

- Nags you for not being careful, and at first it’s annoying but you figure out eventually it’s because he’s worried and this is how he shows his love and concern

- During the day he has to be off at work, and as the hours pass those around him see his shoulders tense higher and higher. You’ve eaten lunch, right? You’ve taken your medicine?

- But don’t worry! Once you show the SLIGHTEST signs of recovery, it’s back to the grind.

- You can sniffle and puppy eyes him all you want, but once he deems you fit for daily life, we are back for business! No more Mr Marginally Nicer Bi Han!

- That being said, once you’re back to smiling and laughing, he will admit that it’s nice to see you back to your usual self.

Smoke

- feels horrible that you’re sick, but secretly proud of his immune system for staying strong; now he has an excuse to show off his hospitality skills!

- sort of like bi-han, expect instead of professional fussing you get excited pampering, gets to the point where you have to ask whether or not he should be at work instead of here

- “Work? Taking care of you is my work!”

- Uses this as a chance to freshen up memory on his hometown; making foods, remedies and tricks he remembers his mother doing for him as a sick child.

- If you ask him more about it, he will gladly go into detail- telling wonderful stories even if he occasionally gets emotional through them

- Cleans your face with a damp cloth and uses it as an excuse to get all close with you- again! He has a strong immune system, so nothing to worry about.

- While he’s off at work, he leaves you notes around the house to remind you that he’s thinking of you and hopes you feel better soon- if you collect all the notes, he becomes embarrassed and acts like he doesn’t know who wrote them

- Comes home and snuggles with you, mentioning even if you did have a fever, it was nice because outside was so cold and you were so warm.

- A little tone deaf, but he’s… got the spirit?

- Secretly upset once you get better because you’re less accommodating to his needy/ clingy behaviour, but it’s also great that you can communicate with words and not pained groans!

- You are WAITING for the day he gets sick. There’s no way you’ve gotten the flu 4 times, and he hasn’t. He sleeps in the same bed as you when you’re sick! Kisses you!

- How did they raise kids to be so strong where he’s from?

BONUS

Liu Kang

- you don’t get sick.

- flu season? he makes you take traditional medicine to prevent it.

- cold? you’re funny. around him? Liu “Set Off Fire Alarms With His Flaming Biceps” Kang? Haha.

- food poisoning? he Knows if the food is off, and won’t let you get the chance to eat it.

- Papa is going to make sure influenza season hits a new low this year

- Seriously, medical insurance companies are terrified of him.

Shang Tsung

- very creepily offers you an elixir and asks you to drink it.

- (Here is the part where I say: but you know he won’t hurt you, so you take it. But, you don’t know. He’s looking at you reeeaaalll funny)

- Notices your glare and takes a moment to re-do his sales pitch, this time a lot less devil-binding-contract and more… human…like?

- turns out, the elixir was just a failed experiment on shape-shifting. he sheepishly offers practical medicine while you roll your eyes.

Kung Lao

- is also sick.

- You both are idiots.

[pastlivesxpastlie]

⋆☀︎｡Smile Back ... At Me ⏾⋆.˚

Grumpy!Vessel x Sunshine!Reader

grumpy/sunshine, sickfic, housemates, fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff goes smut

a/n: there's easter eggs in here for three people 🧍🏻‍♀️

Taglist (that I decided I have now): @inv3ga

“No no no. Don’t do this. Please. Please!” Vessel was distraught. Panicked. Verging on crisis. He stared at himself in the mirror, white knuckling the vanity. “Get it together, Ves. Don’t…don’t.” His breath was ragged…”fuuuuuck...”

How many sneezes in a row was that? 5? Oh…oh they’re still going. You knock on the bathroom door softly. Vessel rips the door open with a scowl, his nose and eyes red from whatever irritant deigned to infect your intrepid workaholic housemate. 

“What?” He asks, deadpan.

“I heard you sneeze like…8 times in a row. That’s concerning.”

“Yes. Thank you, doctor. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get cleaned up and go to work.” He looks you up and down. “Think you ought to do the same?”

You look down for a second at your pjs and gasp. Work? “Oh shit! I…hey… wait a minute!” Vessel just titters as he splashes some water on his face. “It’s my day off!” Again, he chuckles and pushes past you. “You know for someone so crotchety with me you sure know a lot about my schedule!” But he’s already down the hall. Of the housemates, Ves was the one you had the least positive interactions with…and yet…you saw each other the most. It just worked out that way with your schedules. Ves could go to the studio or work from home at will, and you seemed always to be home at the same time. 

“You’ve done this on purpose. To torment me.” Ves said once as his phone buzzed incessantly with notifications as you input your schedule in the shared housemate calendar. And, in your endlessly witty, carefree way, you responded “Aw Ves, finally you’re noticing all I do for you!” For the record, Vessel doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t really hate anyone. No. He’s just a little brusque. And short tempered. And he just likes things done a certain way, ok? You, on the other hand, seem too happy to be here. What are you plotting, he wonders sometimes. 

But today those thoughts are dulled by a throbbing pain behind his eye and the annoying feeling of his nose leaking at any moment. By 2:30, he’s ready for a 20 year long nap. He rubs his face in agony as he sits at the control panel. Usually the studio is a reprieve but one of his worst nightmares is unfolding. He’s sick. He has a cold. A sinus infection? Christ…the flu? He has to push through. He has to see this day to the end and finish this…”fuck it I’m done. I’m going home.”

“Literally just asked how the cymbals sounded, man. For fuck’s sake.” Even poor ii wasn’t safe from Vessel’s sick tirade. The two share a silent look of “the hell is wrong with you/me?” 

“Sorry mate,” Vessel rubs his temples and sniffs. “Uhm…yeah…there could be more…definition or whatever. I’ll see you lot later.” Vessel sulks out of the studio and towards the bus stop. If this was a comic strip, he’d be kicking a can with little fumes over his head. Vessel hates getting sick. It throws off his groove. Makes him unproductive. He’s no stranger to powering through but it doesn’t seem worth it this time around. This makes him feel weak. Like once he gets better he’ll need to work 10x harder just to make up for his time off. Make it up for who? Well…the label, for one thing. And ii. Part of his brain says “it’s only for yourself,” but he pushes that aside. Yeah he’s proud but he still needs to prove to everyone else he’s fine. He can manage. Hasn’t he always landed on his feet? Looking out the bus window at the passing houses and buildings doesn’t provide any distraction—just more fodder for his migraine. As Vessel rests his temple against the window, his phone vibrates, but he ignores it. Whatever it is couldn’t make him feel any worse...oh but he was wrong. So very wrong.

You: I’m sure you saw this on the calendar but it’s just us for the weekend. Are you still feeling sick? Want me to get some soup? Let me know. :)

You’re not surprised Vessel doesn’t reply to you. He’s at work and, well, you’re you. As you’re about to text him again, because you reaaaaalllllly want to get a jump on ordering food, he comes through the front door. “Tsk, you look miserable.”

Vessel so badly wants to be snarky. To tell you what an astute observation you’ve made. “I am…where is everyone?” You look at him a bit quizzically and tell you texted him…and that their trip was on the calendar, etc etc. Oh the defeated sigh he lets out! The misery of being cooped up with someone so chronically pleasant might do his head in if this migraine doesn’t first. And maybe it wasn’t your best idea to follow him to his room to ask if he needed or wanted anything, if he was hungry, did he have a fever, can you do— “Have you considered leaving me alone? You’re not my mum and you’re definitely not my girlfriend! Can take care of myself just fine without you flitting about trying to fix everyone’s problems…maybe you should...” He stops himself and rubs his hand down his face with a heavy sigh. “Fuck it. It’s not worth what little energy I have. Let me know what takeaway you’re thinking.” He shuts the door and leaves you in the hall. Was he suggesting that you spend more time on others than yourself? How dare he? How dare he be right and sound mean about it. But you don’t pout long because he opens the door again, but this time his shirt is off. Your eyes trace the curve of his shoulders…down to the ridges of his chest and abs. Close enough to touch. ‘Stop…he’s sick. And your roommate.’ He sniffs hard. He’s so stopped up. “I…should not be like that. I’m sorry. Pizza?” You look away, feeling shitty after overstepping…he must be really sick if you got an immediate apology. 

“Don’t you think something like soup or…you know what? We’ll do whatever you want.” That elicits a soft smile from him...with teeth no less.. Wait…”you just smiled at me. An honest to god smile...Ves…”

“Oh, sh-shut up.”

After dinner Vessel feels…weird. His head and body hurts…he can’t even think straight. And you notice. He can barely stay awake but there’s no way he’d be comfy on the couch. His long legs…you imagine him trying to curl up and get comfortable like a big dog on a tiny bed. You take a chance and put your hand on his shoulder. “Let me help you get in bed.” He sighs heavily like you asked him to give up music. “Is it really this hard to accept some kindness?” Apparently that was a shit question because he huffs and takes himself to bed. Fine. Maybe you should leave it alone but damnit he needs help…and attention. You come into his room with your arms full.

“What are you…” But you cut him off by dumping a big blue quilt on him.

“I always always always sweat shit out with this quilt.”

“I don’t have a fever.”

“Oh well, it’ll make you feel better. And…alsooooooo…” you hand him a stuffed puppy with floppy ears and a dumb, goofy look stitched on his face. “Just give him a squeeze.” Vessel looks at the stuffed dog and the quilt but can’t seem to look at you. If anything he’s looking down and past your feet.

“As persistent as my cold, you know that?” 

“You deserve a break. Let me know if you need something…you know where I am.”

“H-hey…wait…” You look back at him, and it’s as if he’s forgotten how to breathe. Did he ever know in the first place? All he knows is that any breath he takes after this night is for something beyond the music. Beyond himself, even though his efforts there are questionable. “Sit with me…for a bit?”

And you did. All night. Waking up next to him hugging your stuffed dog under your “sick day” quilt was such a sight. His eyebrows knit together like he was thinking. It must have been a fever dream, you think, as he groans softly and clutches the dog closer. You want to reach out, move the hair off his brow, feel if he has a fever…caress him. But you have to at least act like you know better. When he blinks awake he gives a lazy smile.

“You shouldn’t have stayed in here. What if you get sick?”

“I could deal.”

“Hm. Maybe you’d accept some kindness in return?”

After his cold finally fucks off, Vessel looks at you differently. Not necessarily because you did something for him. No. There was something different. After he snapped at you, and then later after you two had a long conversation about nothing before he drifted off, Vessel noticed something behind your eyes. God, those eyes. His walls came down. He was defenseless. It’s not like you’re best friends now or anything, but he felt moved to treat you gently. Hell, to smile back at the very least. 

Late one night, long after everyone went to bed, Ves notices your bedroom light is still on. “What am I doing?” He whispers to himself, but apparently too loudly because soon you’re opening your door.

“Oh thank fuck it’s you. Thought I was hearing things.”

“Jus’ me…I…why are you up? It’s 1:30.” You shrug. There’s that look again. He has to dig. He has to pry just a little. Just like you had with him. “Can I come in?”

You nod and let him in, motioning for him to sit on the bed. He sees your laptop out and wants to ask what you were up to, but you quickly put it away. “Better question is why you’re awake, Ves.”

He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. “So no one has a good excuse, hm?”

“Hm.” You tease back, gently pinching his arm. He looks down at your fingers on him and his heart flutters. Ves lets his gaze drift slowly up your body…taking in every curve and slight movement before resting on your eyes. 

“What’s wrong?”

“W-w-what…? What are y-?” You try to act nonchalant. 

“Can just tell…something’s off with you.”

You sigh heavily and look up at the ceiling. “This…” you put your hands out, “is actually my natural state. Tense. Not nearly as bubbly or…like”

“A sunshine girl?”

“Yeah or…a sunshine girl.” 

Vessel looks at you with a sympathetic smile…he can see that blush dusting your pretty cheeks. He  lets his hand rest on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly but then pausing. “You’re knotted up, love. Can I…?” Without even hearing your answer, he moves behind you and rubs your shoulders. It hurts a little, only because you’re so tense. His wide hands cover your shoulders and luxuriously knead into your muscles. “What’s made you so tight,” he rasps close to your ear, “Hm? What’s eating at you?” 

You can’t help it. Your head lolls back to his chest and turns so you can look up at him. “All I do is run around taking care of business and other people. I don’t know how to care about myself.”

He can’t stop himself. Brain shutting down. Hands and lips have a mind of their own now. “I’m not gonna sit here and let you run yourself into the ground like I did. You should care about yourself…I…I could teach you…” Vessel trails his nose up your neck and kisses your ear softly before you jump up. 

“Jesus, dude, you can’t just come in here and…” but fuck it he doesn’t look precious wiping his hand down his face and hiding the strain in his pants. “Oh…fuck… actually you totally can.” Immediately you’re straddling his lap, held in place by his soft hands cupping your face…pressing you desperately into his. His kisses trail hungrily down your jaw and to your neck. He finds your pulse point and claims it with his hot, open mouthed kisses. Your hips grind against him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world…but of course, he adjusted to press his strong thigh against you...you are supposed to do this. Suddenly your thoughts are poisoned with guilt as you realize how tightly you’re squeezing his thigh and how you weren’t being exactly quiet. Vessel gently guides your head down so he can whisper to you.

“I’d take you far away from here…anywhere you wanted…just to hear it…I want to hear what I can make you say…how loud I could make you…”

“V-v-es we-...“

“Shh shh shh. It’s ok. Do you want to stop?” His voice is warm and sincere, like he’s meant to take care of you.

“No.”

“Then let me do this…for you. Some comfort…” he turns slowly to lay you on your back, “would you like that…” his fingers gently trace your breasts and tummy over your shirt… “could make you feel good…safe”…your shorts and panties are thrown off the bed…”when was the last time someone did that for you, darling? Made you cum…just to cum?”…your shirt is lifted, tits exposed to the chilly room and his starving eyes.

“Never.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he murmurs as he kisses your thighs and settles on his tummy, “no pressure for me then.” But you’re moaning softly already. You’re a live wire as the hands you’ve desperately tried to avoid fantasizing about explore your inner thighs and folds. His finger glides up and down the length of your needy pussy as he looks up at you…pure bliss etched all over his face in the dim lighting. “Atta girl, love. We’re just here to feel good. Hm?” You hear and then feel a wad of his spit hit your clit, followed by his fingers pressing against either side of it. Vessel wraps his left arm around your tummy as your body chases his touch. “Found something you like, did I?”

“Vessel,” you whisper breathlessly but it’s cut off by a strangled moan. His tongue gently darts out for little kitten licks on your clit. You don’t know if your reactions or what he’s doing is making him whimper like that, but you don’t care. Your hand caresses his hair lazily until you have to grab it and keep him in place. He’s taken your clit in his mouth…something you’ve never experienced. Forgetting every wall you placed around yourself with this man, you let your hips grind shamelessly against his perfect mouth. Vessel’s moans and hot breath nearly push you over the edge multiple times. 

“I…” he exhales, trying to catch his breath and contain himself, “am really going to enjoy this.” His middle and ring finger work into your wet cunt and find your g-spot quickly.  “That’s it…that’s it…you feel that? Feel my fingers rubbing you from the inside, yeah?” You can’t respond directly…you’re too busy squirming and whimpering fuck fuck fuck. It feels like you’re on fire as Vessel licks and sucks at your clit, your eyes rolling as your brain tries to compute that the same spot is being stimulated from different angles. It’s too much. 

“I’m yours…I’m yours….please I’m yours.”

“Mine, yeah? Good. You sound s’perfect…haven’t even had my cock.” It’s a miracle that you aren’t screaming out loud now as he sucks at your clit. Both hands tangle in his hair when he starts thrusting his hips against your bed. He moans pathetically into your clit, his hips landing soft blows into the mattress. “I…I’m sorry.” He stops and quickly pulls off his clothes…you swear you’re cumming a little just from the sight of his cock alone. “See what you do to me?” He breathes heavily, standing at your bedside with his cock throbbing without contact. “Seeing you…let yourself go… enjoying yourself… so fucking hard for you. Could cum just licking you out, babe.” You’re tempted to tell him to try it…but you feel empty.

“Make me yours…”

“How would you have me?”

You’re speechless for a second…he’s really into this. Into you feeling good. “Get on your back, angel.” Vessel does as he’s told and blushes at the pet name. He teasingly rubs his cock against your slit…tells you how tight you felt around his fingers…how good you are for him. You moan quietly…weakly…dreamily as you slide down each inch of Vessel’s cock. The stretch is beyond perfect…not uncomfortable…but still more than any stupid toy in your bedside drawer could do. You grind against him and bounce on his cock seemingly without much thought other than feeling good. And he doesn’t stop you, nor does he grab you and fuck up into your pussy. No…he just lays back like a good boy and takes it. Luxuriates in the feeling of the warm stickiness of your pussy…how it hugs his cock and threatens to drain him. You wince a little as your hips tense; still you weren’t fully relaxed despite your blissful state. 

“I’ve got you.” Vessel pulls you close to his chest, pressing your hips down. “Just lay down on me. Let me feel you.” He moans softly as you lay out, your legs scissoring with his just enough to keep his cock buried deep. Your lips crash together. You taste yourself on him…his mouth…and your mind goes even fuzzier. “Sweet girl…you like being lovey, don’t you? Hm?” His hips snap up and press into your cunt. “Little lover girl??”

“I’m…fuck I’m yours Ves…I’m your girl…”

“Let’s make it real then…” his hips thrust back and forth again before pressing deep into you, holding his cock hard against the limit of your pussy…”I’ll fill you to the fucking brim with my cum…leave my handprints on your ass…and-“

“And I’ll leave…little love bites on your chest,” you add, trying to weigh in and stave off your climax. Vessel groans out in response and holds you in place like a toy as you suck and lick at his soft skin. So much for handprints on your ass, though; he can’t help but cradle your back and head. Neither of you have ever felt this before. The soft, warm middle of equal parts wholesome chemistry and earth shattering lust. What was that in the delicate in-between? You bury your face in his neck and forget the world…forget your name…it’s just him. 

“So tight…” He gently lifts your head. “There she is…mmm. Need to see you…need you to see what you do to me.” Vessel tangles his hand in your hair to help fix your gaze on him. His throat bobs with each broken moan…god he wants to cry out for you so badly. For the way your body melts into his as he rolls his hips up and into you. For the way your slick runs out all over him, making a mess of you both. It’s all too much. You press your forehead to his and bear your hips down. Vessel grabs you and presses his hot, greedy lips to yours not just for a kiss, but to muffle the pornographic noises your pussy rips out of him. The feeling of his tongue on your lips pushes you over the edge. Your fluttering orgasm squeezes and milks Vessel’s cock for all it’s worth, causing him to fuck up into you like a rabid animal. He completely and unapologetically ruins you.

You wake up the next morning curled up against his back. He’s already awake and smiles brightly when he feels you pull him close. 

“Guess what.” He whispers. You barely mumble “hm” back to him, still sleepy and fuzzy from your late night tryst. Vessel chuckles and rolls over, your stuffed whale shark from the aquarium clutched to his chest. 

“Hey! That’s mine,” you grumble.

“Oh and suddenly you don’t share anymore…hm? Not my lover girl when the sun’s up,” he teases. “Anyways…it’s just us this weekend. We have some wasted time to make up for…don’t you think?”

[heartfullofleeches]

[mentions of food play, (male) lactation if you squint, Alien being Alien]

Alien and [ vaguely implied to be amab] cow/bull darling- Alien breaks into the farm Darling works/lives in to mingle with the cows as any extraterrestrial allegedly would. Unlike the aliens of those tales responsible for butchering cows or turning them inside out, Alien just thinks they're really cool and wants to take one home with him so they don't have to buy milk from the store. Alien picks up one of the cows, eager to ask the owners how much they'll be willing to sell it off for - scaring the daylights out of the farm hand who ventured out to see what all the ruckus was only to witness this lanky beanpole pick up a full grown adult cow like it was a sack of flour. Alien quickly notices them due to the flashlight pointed at his back and the frightening farm hand losing their shit trying to call down the rest of the herd. He hurries over to meet them and get his new pet home.

"Yo! How do much you want for this one"

"um.... I don't think any of our cows are for sale.."

Straining their eyes under the harsh glare of the flash, Alien sees smaller characteristics on the handler they hadn't noticed before - small horns atop their head, a swishing tail. Even the pattern of their pjs-

"You a cow too?"

"Well, not exactly, but in a way I guess-"

"Then I guess I'll take you. Wouldn't be my first time kidnapping another human- plus you're cuter and smaller than this one meaning you're easier to carry anyway so that's a two for two, baby."

"...huh."

Alien sets the bovine on the soft grass before picking up the handler and throwing them over their shoulder- sprinting off into the night.

In my fics cows of any gender are able to produce milk, but I feel Alien would favor a certain kind of milk from his cow. One Darling has run out of milk from their tits, Alien dives between their legs to drink and drain their other source of "milk". Darling watches in horror as Alien uses their "milk" in their morning cup of coffee. They didn't even drink coffee before meeting darling, they're just finding any excuse they can to beg darling for more their cream.

-

[Cow Darling sells milk and other dairy products from the farm at a local farmer - skin glistening with sweat as their breathing grows more ragged between sentences]

Cow Darling: T...t-thank you for you purchase.... H-hope you enjoy your...ahh

[Cow Darling trails off as their head hits the table, knees buckling as they whine - gripping at the table clothes. Alien crawls from under table shortly after, wiping their mouth clean and placing a cap on the small bottle in his hands. They help Darling stand - making eye contact with the customer they were helping.]

Alien: Don't give me that look- I'm shopping same as anyone else in this damn place. How the hell am I supposed to eat my cereal if I don't have any milk?

[tremendouscreationperson]

Bucky Barnes x Chubby!Reader imagine

It had been really difficult to blow Bucky off each time he asked to hang out. In fact it had been really difficult to ignore the whole friendship group. If you went out with Steve, no doubt Bucky would be there. If you went out with Nat, no doubt Bucky would hear and ask you to meet him the following day. The same goes for Sam, Wanda and, fuck it, even Tony.

So you all but secluded yourself in your room. Which wasn't your choice really but your boyfriend Alex hadn't taken kindly to your close relationship with another man. He wasn't convinced that even though you two grew up together you could be 'just friends'. And to his credit he wasn't really wrong. You had harboured a fat crush on your closest friend for a while but it was unrequited and then Alex came into your life and he was the first guy who actually showed an interest in you. It wasn't something you were used to in the slightest. Being friends with beauties like Natasha and Wanda you were often looked over by those not in the friend group but Alex had sought you out.

So here you were, on a Saturday, missing out whatever fun shenanigans were going on. Scrolling through various apps in your pjs like a party animal.

A knock at your door startled you out of mindlessly scrolling.

You sat yourself up and hoped to god you weren't nose blind and the room smelt okay.

"I'm decent." You joked.

The door opened and the very person you were avoiding ducked his head in. Fuck Bruce. You had told him not to let anyone in.

"Oh my god. You're alive." He joked back shutting the door behind himself. Bucky sauntered into your room, with the same swagger he always had, plonking himself down on your bed.

Not sure what to say in response, you go to the diplomatic, "You okay?"

He gives you a half shrug and leans backwards. "Missing my partner in crime. Thought I'd visit you."

You merely nod in reply.

This is the first ever awkward silence you and Bucky had sat through. It spread out horribly, stretching until you gave a very fake cough. Hoping any noise would solve it. It didn't.

"Right, okay, just go straight to the point." Bucky muttered. "Look, why are you avoiding me, angel? What did I do?"

Bucky's gaze was always piercing but today the intensity winded you. Why were you avoiding him?

There was no use lying anymore. You'd used up all your excuses anyway. You couldn't be sick again or have work again you just needed to tell him. He deserves honesty. "Alex isn't our biggest fan."

"Yeah, I knew that." Bucky chuckled. "I just didn't realise his dick was worth all your friends." You tutted at his crude remark. "He told me off for piggybacking you at the fair. 'she doesn't let me carry her, why are you'." His impression was eerily good.

You chuckled a little at the idea of Alex confronting Bucky. "He was not pleased that evening."

"He doesn'-" Bucky shook his head.

"Doesn't what?"

"Nothing." He ran a hand through his locks. "Where is he anyway?"

"He's at a friend's birthday."

Bucky's eyebrows were in his hairline. "And he hasn't taken you?"

This was a sore topic. But you'd been honest so far... "I didn't fit into the dress."

Now he was frowning. "What dress?"

You motioned to your wardrobe. "He brought me a dress, I've been working to get into it but."

"Been wor-" Bucky's frown somehow got deeper. "Why would he buy you a dress that doesn't fit you?"

Your mouth opened and closed but you didn't have an answer.

Bucky stomped over to the wardrobe and opened it. There was a dress resting against the door, it was enclosed in plastic so he had to unzip it. The dress was tiny. It was a little strappy thing with far too many holes. What were the holes supposed to- oh they were going to expose your sides and back.

"This i-" He turned to you. "You'd never wear this. It's not even your colour."

You couldn't agree more. "I know, it's been a little arguement between us." That was an understatement.

"I still don't understand why he brought you something that didn't fit." You shrugged but before you could respond he continued, "what's this?"

Your eyes flicked down to the pile he was caught on. "Oh, those ar- those are your hoodies."

Bucky gave you a confused face. "Bu- these are yours, angel."

You smiled sweetly at him. "Alex wasn'-"

"I don't care about him. He buys you shit that doesn't fit, he goes to parties without you, he isolates you from your friends." Bucky sat back on the bed but much closer, just by your hip. "Why are you with him?"

You didn't know. You liked him. You think you love him. But when you really think of it, you don't know. You're not any happier with him than if you weren't. Sometimes he says things and you feel fat in a bad way. You'd be the first to say you weren't thin but the way he says it makes you feel wrong. "He's the first guy to actually show an interest in me, I suppose at first I enjoyed it but when you say it like that."

"He is not the first guy to show you an interest." Bucky shook his head in disbelief. "You're gorgeous."

You rolled your eyes. "Thanks. But when I'm out with the gang I'm not really being looked at."

"You are." Bucky vowed. "I- people do look at you. I-I sometimes don't like the way they look at you and maybe I dance with you and maybe I take you on the Ferris wheel."

Why wouldn't he like the way they looked at you? Your brows pulled. "The way they look at me?"

"Like you're just a quick fuck." He instantly regretted that. "No, they look at you with lust but I know they would leave. They wouldn't treat you right. They wouldn't care for you." His eyes were bright and honest. He wasn't embarrassed by his confession.

You had nothing. No response. What could you say that wouldn't betray the crush? You didn't still like him, no, well ... When he looked at you like that...

"Come on." He clapped a hand on your knee. "Get changed let's get pizza." The look on your face must've shown your obvious debate. "I don't care if you don't fit into that dress, you look like you haven't eaten anything good in ages."

[hazelsmirrorball]

Undercover Spider-Woman | Hazel Callahan

Spider-woman! Hazel Callahan x fem! Reader, loser! Hazel x Fem! Reader Summary:  PJ decides to do a Fight Club Halloween Party and Hazel has no choice but to wear her superhero costume.  Warnings: english isn’t my main language, not proof-read,fighting, spicy? a/n: first bottoms imagine! Hope you guys like it, I’ll probably do more parts and I might do more Hazel one shots! I really hope I’m not shadow banned! Thank you

part two

October 31s, Halloween. A perfect excuse for teenagers to get drunk out of their minds while dressing up without being judged. Couples would go in matching costumes or go to haunted houses. Little kids would go trick or treating and the fight club, well they were making this halloween one to remember.  Usually people would hang out, go to parties but since this year October 31st came around a week day, those plans were out of the picture. Plus adding to the fact that none of them were that popular to be invited to a party , excluding Brittney, Isabel and Y/n. The fight club, specifically PJ, made it their mission to make this halloween one for the books.  

Hazel could hear the faint music playing from inside the gym as she paced back and forth debating if it even was a good idea to stumble in these conditions. She could risk everything she had been hiding so well since sophomore year for a party. Hazel took a deep breath taking her mask off and pushing it inside her bag as she felt her bangs covering her face.  She anxiously licked her lips feeling the metallic flavor overpowering her tongue as she hesitated to push open the big gym doors. Her glove covered hands hovered against the door as she thought if it was a good idea to go inside in the first place. 

What was PJ’s wonderful idea of making Halloween one for the books, you may ask? Fight Club with costumes. She made it her mission to sell the idea really well, but who wouldn’t like to have girls fighting in slutty costumes, heaven on earth,or  at least that’s what  PJ said. 

Hazel didn’t have anything against the party, she loved the idea of hanging out with her friends on halloween. She finally clicked with a group of friends good enough to celebrate a holiday together. Hazel was ecstatic, she had made it her mission to make the perfect Anakin Skywaker costume, which she had succeeded perfectly. She had slept the night before with her costume freshly dry cleaned next to her.  But her plans got destroyed when Green Goblin decided to show up and ruin her day by turning the city into his playground. Who would’ve known that Halloween was going to be a crime filled day. Hazel had managed to leave everything in perfect conditions  with ease leaving  just in time for the party. But just not in time for her to change out of her suit into her Anakin costume. 

So that’s how she found herself waiting outside of the gym doors in her spider woman suit. Her face was covered in bruises from the fight before and her hair was sweaty and messy due to it being stuck in her suit for a long time.  It wasn’t that she looked bad in her suit, it gave her power, made her unrecognizable. She wasn’t that nerdy little girl that people would stomp over. She was a badass that saved the world. She was a good superhero and she looked good doing her job. The red and blue suit would drive people crazy. She had even caught PJ and Josie gushing over her on a daily basis, but what if it slipped? 

The suit wasn’t one of those cheap costumes you could find in a store for under 30 dollars. It was a high tech suit that could kill someone in an instant and wearing that suit for a fight club meeting drove her insane. She worried on a daily basis that she could easily murder a girl with a blink of an eye, but now, with her suit on, it just made things even more difficult. Wall crawling,  superhuman strength, speed, reflexes, spider senses, spiderwebs and healing factors, all open for everyone to see. 

Hazel took one last breath while pushing the doors open. She let out a cough as smoke filled her nostrils, taking her by surprise. As she looked around, she noticed the usual bright lights of the gym were now red while smoke came from a smoke machine not far away from the door. Hazel chuckled, feeling the nerves quickly ease off, as she looked at her friends standing near a makeshift snack table. PJ did outdid herself. 

“Well look who decided to finally show up... Wait, is that the costume you made? Dude I actually thought you were going to do a crappy Anakin costume like last year. You have improved so much, this shit is so fucking cool, way better than the store one’s”   PJ said as she pushed down her sunglasses to take a better look. Hazel let out a nervous chuckle thinking of what words to say, but nothing came out. She looked at PJ taking in her costume, noticing the familiar men and black, lanyard hanging from her black suit pocket. 

“It makes you look super hot, Hazel! You even have an ass!” Sylvie exclaimed, taking off her scream mask while biting onto her fake knife. Hazel blushed, hiding her face behind her hands. If she had one more comment directed her way she was going to lose it. 

“No, but like PJ is right. This looks really good. How did you even make this look so good?  It looks like the real thing.” Josie added as she circled Hazel around taking in her costume. Hazel's eyes wandered as she shook her head, scoffing. 

“Please, how would you even know what it looks like, if you haven’t seen the real one.” Hazel said as she took a cup of punch gulping it down to ease her nerves. She wasn’t going to outlive this night.

“Because Y/n bought a Spider-Woman costume and it looks like shit compared to yours. No offense, Y/n. Your ass still looks good though.  ” PJ yelled, pointing at Y/n, who was standing a few feet away from her. 

Her body was adorned with a tight low quality version of the suit Hazel was wearing. But Hazel found herself staring in awe, not being able to move one bit. Hazel scanned every inch of Y/n Osborn's body taking a mental picture of her to remember in the future. 

Y/n Osborn had been Hazel’s crush ever since she understood what liking someone more than friends meant. She was Hazel’s everything, yet she wasn’t aware of that. They shared countless classes together but Hazel couldn’t even address her without turning into a nervous wreck. Fight Club had changed Hazel’s opportunities, when she had seen Y/n walk through those gym doors, she knew that at least a friendship would come out and she wasn’t completely wrong. Y/n did talk to Hazel, but Hazel didn’t talk back. She managed to mumble responses but that was about it. When it came to Y/n, Hazel felt like she was never bitten by a radioactive spider and that she was the same loser she had been all her life. 

But now seeing her in that outfit, wearing her iconic colors. Her hair moved softly because of the wind that came from the smoke machine. The red light outlining her body made Hazel go insane, she really was not surviving October 31st but if she didn’t she was going to leave with that image of Y/n engraved in the back of her head. 

“Shut up, PJ! It’s not my fault that this was the only thing that they were selling.I didn’t know that Hazel was going to show up in a better quality looking costume. I thought it looked good in the costume” Y/n muttered as she placed down a bag full of candy on the table. Brittany tapped her back for support as the rest of the girls looked back and forth between the two Spider-woman costumes. 

“You know what! Since we are all here, let’s get to business” Josie said as she walked towards the makeshift fighting mat that was in the middle of the gym. The girls followed close behind leaving Y/n and Hazel near the table. Y/n leaned down as searched for something in her bag which didn’t go unnoticed by Hazel. She took a deep breath quickly biting her lip before she could say something that could worsen the situation. As she looked for a notebook and a pen for notes, her eyes never left Y/n’s body. She took all the strength in her body to walk towards her and place her hand on Y/n’s lower back leaning with her. Hazel lips lightly grazed on her ear as she felt Y/n’s body tensed as she gripped harder on the thing she was searching for in her tote bag. 

“I think you look fucking hot in that costume.” Hazel responded by tapping her back and moving away towards the group of girls like nothing. Y/n gulped, taken aback by Hazel’s actions not used to this side of her. She cleared her throat jogging towards the girls sitting in between Josie and Sylvie, avoiding the hungry look Hazel was giving her. If Hazel knew that wearing the suit with Y/n was going to change the way she acted with her, she would’ve worn it to school years ago. 

“Well, let’s make this fun. Spider-Woman vs. Cheap Spider-girl” PJ exclaimed pushing Hazel out of her thoughts as she noticed Y/n groan and get up glaring at her. Hazel followed standing in front of her, but different from the other times she fought with her, she didn’t break eye contact with her sending her a cocky smile.

"Could you please drop it already, PJ? I get it, it's a shitty costume" Y/n muttered, as she sent a glare towards PJ, trying to avoid Hazel's haunting gaze. 

PJ shook her off, wiggling her eyebrows while pointing towards Hazel. Y/n quickly adverted her eyes towards her noticing how Hazel slipped her mask on up to her nose making it possible for her to see her pearly whites. Y/n raised an eyebrow, confused by the sudden change in Hazel’s actions, used to the girl being deadly afraid of looking her in the eye. The girl that was used to being a blushing mes with her stood tall smirking down at her. Before Y/n could even process what was going let alone swing a punch, she felt her body smash against the floor, her body being pinned down by Hazel. 

Hazel's thighs pinched her into place making it impossible for her to move. Hazel hands pushed Y/n's hands on top of her head as she leaned towards her. Hazel’s chain slowly moved up and down Y/n’s face as she struggled to get Hazel's body off hers, she had done it before, why was it so hard now? Seeing Hazel in this new angle made her nervous. Her once sweet eyes were full of something Y/n couldn’t describe, Hazel’s agitated breaths made her loose concentration as her masked eyes scanned her face with a proud grin on her face. She wanted to punch that cocky grin out of her face.

“Oh, see, the cheap costume is losing. Punch her already, Hazel! End her.” PJ exclaimed, clapping, making Hazel chuckle. The other girls yelled at Hazel encouraging her to finish the job. Maybe it was the sudden glory she felt, the suit, the hollers and Y/n being under her in her suit, made Hazel feel like one of her dreams was finally coming through. The things she kept hidden in her bedroom was finally happening. 

Y/n noticed how Hazel was far gone taking advantage off this already pissed out of her mind. Y/n wrapped her leg around Hazel’s waist taking her by surprise. She quickly took over turning them around making Hazel face the floor while Y/n straddled her. She leaned towards her, her lips grazing softly over her cheek. 

“I think I like this position better.” She said softly into Hazel's ear, making her warm inside. Hazel wasn’t going to lie and say that she didn’t like this position, but she felt powerful with the suit. She was going to be on top. Hazel with ease pushed Y/n off her straddling her once again, smiling at her. 

“I guess a little change doesn’t hurt once in a while.”  She responded by making Y/n roll her eyes. 

“Hey! Stop with the porno and hit each other already” Sylvie yelled making Hazel punch Y/n straight in the nose.

“Fuck!” Y/n yelled, holding onto her nose as blood started trailing out like a water stream. Hazel quickly got off her, her once confident persona slipping away. As  she slipped the mask off she could see how Y/n stood up coughing the blood out of her lips. 

“Shit, Hazel! We didn’t tell you to kill her” Josie exclaimed, helping Y/n up. She shakes her shrugging it off. 

“It’s okay! I’m usually the one that beats Hazel. I guess tonight was her comeback” Y/n said laughing softly as she stopped the blood flowing with a piece of Isabel shirt she had managed to rip off.  Hazel knew it wasn’t fine and that she could’ve killed Y/n if she hit her just a little bit harder.

 “I’ll take her to the bathroom. Help her clean up while you guys continue. Keep the party going” Hazel managed to get out as she took Y/n away from Josie’s grasp leading her to the bathroom. 

Y/n stayed quiet as she sat on the sink whilst Hazel nervously cleaned her probably broken nose. A smile adorned her lips when she noticed that Hazel wouldn’t dare to look at her, her Hazel was back. 

“Why are you smiling?” Hazel asked, dropping the tissues of the trash can watching the bloody mouth smiling towards her. 

“I was worried that my nervous little Hazel was gone, but I guess she’s back. Got worried for a second. ” She replied as she inspected Hazel. Hazel turned away blushing as she leaned against the door behind her, nearly falling back. 

“I’m really sorry about your nose. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard” Hazel replied quickly while gaining her balance. Y/n shook her off while getting down from the sink. 

“It’s no problem, finally you stopped being soft with me. I was starting to believe you didn’t want to hit my pretty little face” She replied sarcastically as she headed towards Hazel. Her hand pushed off the bangs from her face making her see Hazel’s features better. Y/n slowly moved closer to her but stopped dead in her tracks when both her and Hazel's phone vibrated. She quickly moved away looking at her phone while Hazel cleared her throat looking at hers, seeing the notification that Green Goblin was on the loose. 

“I really need to go! But please text me if you are feeling better! I really am sorry” She said quickly as she noticed Y/n also running towards the door. 

“Yeah, it’s no problem! I also have to go, my dad wants me to help him with work” Y/n said as she followed Hazel outside. Both of the girls looked at each other parting ways not knowing that in a few minutes they were going to face each other once again but this time to battle against death. 

part two

[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts VII

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities

Pt I • Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VIII *** God, she was meant to be a quick fuck and leave. Why couldn’t I get her out of my mind? I need her…

It was stupid of me to get drunk, and even stupider that I went to her apartment. She didn’t want me there, but she looked so cute in her pjs, I couldn’t help staying. I wasn’t so drunk that I couldn’t move, how’d you think I got there? It was a good excuse, even if she didn’t know it, to get her to touch me again. Her touch was intoxicating, something my body craved, yearned for, but I fucked it up. Ever heard the saying ‘drunk words are sober thoughts?’ “M’missed you…you looked s-so good in that long thing you were wearing in the flower home…”; “Baby, I know what I’m saying…miss you…miss your pussy…miss your love…”; “So pretty…su..such a good girl…my baby…” Even if some thought are more vulgar than others, they’re still true. Showing up drunk probably proved her point of how reckless and selfish I am, but you don’t know how much I miss you. I couldn’t get you out of my head, your curves, your eyes, your laugh…I need you beside me.

Playing limp body was fun, I got to hold her leg, cuddle up to her and even kiss her a little. So I have to pretend to be drunk all the time? No, no, bad idea! You’re trying to prove to her that you need her and only her. It was supposed to be a romantic gesture of some kind, but it failed…miserably. What happened to me? Every time I see her now, talking with Eloise, laughing with V, something burns inside of me. It’s an emptiness that I can’t explain, eating me from the inside out. Using other women to try and fill the hole was a shitty idea, especially since she found me with one. I think I get somewhere with her, but then I fuck it up again. She kicked me out of her apartment, “Stop coming to me when you’re high.” That one sentence haunting my mind, making me lose sleep at night. I fucked it up so bad, I need to earn her trust again, I can’t breathe without her. She doesn’t know the things she does to me, making me spend hours in my office, fucking my hand imagining it was her. My blood boils every time I see her with V, she laughs at his jokes, he gave her juice. He gave her the juice I bought for her, waiting for her to come back! Of course I had to lie to the others, saying I mixed up the flavours, no way I was telling them about the girl I was pinning over that I was also waiting for to return. God, I was whipped…

You were hard to find. I had to dig through the fucking system at work to figure out how to contact you. I swear, I wasn’t trying to be a creep, I just knew you wouldn’t willingly give me your number! And I doubt Lindsay would give it to me either. You sounded so sweet over the phone…your voice was like honey, something I’d be willing to drown in if it came from you. Yeah, you hung up on me, but I got to talk to you for a little! I’d call that a win. Another win was when you took the bouquet…I knew you’d like them. You always told me how you loved secret stories behind things, even if I could T give them to you, I’m glad Eloise could. Building that bouquet was hard! I wanted to take all the flowers you liked, but that wasn’t allowed. If I had a dime for the amount of times Eloise slapped my hand and told me to express my emotions through the flowers instead of pick what was prettiest, I’d be a millionaire. All those flowers that were strategically placed to tell you a story were working. After work, I’d come in to ask Eloise if you’d stopped by, gladly listening to her as she told me about your sweet smile and laugh, the way your nose scrunched up when you found a new flower and wanted to know what it signified. All of this will be worth it in the long run. Seeing you at the bar alone, sipping your rum and coke made me smile. The drink you ordered the first time we met. Sitting down, I expected you to leave or to tell me to leave. But you didn’t. Sure, you put up a fight, telling me to spit out what I wanted, so you could be alone and drink in peace but I wasn’t expecting you to listen. “I want you,” it just slipped out. But it sent shockwaves through me when you spoke “If you want me…like genuinely want me, you have to beg for it.” I had never been one for begging, but if that’s what it takes to have you in my life, I will beg for hours and hours, days, weeks, months. I need you in my life.

Taglist: @talyaaas-blog @cassies-cookies @junecat18@jk97bam @bluewarmsunshine @diame93 @bangtans-momma @lil0u0 @borahoe @peterstarkchrishiddleston @telepathytae @apobangpo444 @gimeow @taekritimin123 @butterymin @skzthinker @someone-1997 @kookswifesblog @jjk-1999 @bulubulubulublabla @xo79 @thesmutconnoisseur @nikkinik485 @coldcoffee2121 @jjk97091 @onlybunss @kopiosuam @nanmolla @peachtown @kopiosuam

[enigma-im]

Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Alien x F!Human Warnings: alien sex, space force, weird alien sex, sex cocoon, zero gravity sex

Word Count: 5,599

Brother works at Space Force, so it's not uncommon for aliens to stop by. Though this one is a bit cute.

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I can only stare at the tall dark figure hiding in my kitchen. It seems that's all the figure can do as well. Trapped in a standoff. My heart races a mile a minute, never expecting to have company so late at night. I slowly reach for the light switch, careful with any sudden movements. As the room becomes clear I finally see what's standing on the other side of the kitchen island.

"Oh," I gawk. Before me is an incredibly tall alien, equipped with long lanky limbs, odd head-shape, and spikes barely visible behind their back. An honest-to-God alien is standing in my kitchen. "I'll take it you are looking for my brother," I ask as I casually walk over to the fridge.

It's the alien's turn to gawk," Uh, yes. Is he here?"

I look through the fridge for the pitcher of sweet tea, spotting it on the top shelf. "No, he is on his way back from his friend's place though. Should be in within the hour if you wanted to wait around. Up to you."

I set the pitcher on the table and then reach for a cup on the hook. I look up to the alien as I pour, hinting at him to answer.

He stumbles," Right, if that's ok with you. I'd hate to impose."

I wave him off," No worries. It's part of the gig living here. You aren't the first or the last alien I'll see around here. Though you are here very late." I sip from my cup, lounging against the counter.

"So sorry, It was very important. Otherwise, I would have waited until morning. I know how long humans sleep but I believe I got the math a bit wrong. Do you always sleep at night or every other day," He rambles. I smile into my cup, he's cute.

"Every night, though it's a give and take on what time of the night," I shrug," ten at night is one of those give and take times. I was actually heading to bed now."

He startles at the answer," Oh then I am so sorry! Please, don't let me keep you. I know how important sleep is for your kind."

I snicker," Don't be sorry. You will never find me passing up an opportunity to speak with an alien while in my PJs." He leans over and looks me from head to toe, eyes wide and mouth parted. Am I being checked out right now? I poke a foot forward to show off my slippers.

"Well you look professional enough for me," He shrugs," you wouldn't mind keeping me company then?"

"It would truly be my pleasure," I hang at the end waiting for a name. He doesn't pick up on it. "I'm Liya, by the way," I prompt instead.

"Hello, Liya," he practically purrs," My name is Pavo L'tun'ku, 2nd in command of human relations aboard S.L. Quain."

"Oh, I didn't know we were doing all that," I half tease. I straight up, setting my cup down," I am Liya Woodard, in charge of the distribution of goods across the entirety of the USA." I relax and reach for my cup with a smirk," How was that?"

He leans onto his forearms," Little too formal but I appreciate the effort."

"Oh hush, I was just coping you," I joke back.

We get to chatting for a bit before my brother makes his way home. Pavo goes regal at his entrance, as does my brother. It's like watching someone talk to the president. I could almost see the red tape go up for appropriate interspecies conversation that aligns with government protocol.

"Woodard," Pavo greets," Excuse this interruption but your expertise is needed. There is an issue regarding a certain rebel group at one of our events."

"Very well," Thomas answers all professional, it almost makes me laugh, " give me just a moment to change and we will leave post haste."

Thomas scoots past and quickly bolts up the steps. I look over to Pavo who has relaxed a little.

"Excuse this interruption but your expertise is needed," I mock Pavo, even standing the way he did. He glares over at me half-heartedly.

"Shut up," He smiles. I laugh.

Thomas is quick, already downstairs before I can chat with Pavo a little more. To my dismay. Thomas grabs his keys from the hook and looks back at me.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Uh," He looks around," Be good?"

"Be good? You be good," I scoff. He rolls his eyes before heading for the door. Pavo looks around and then points at me.

"Be good," he mimics Thomas.

"See you around, Pavo," I tiredly wave. He gives me a big ole alien smile full of teeth before heading out. I smile to myself, feeling a little giddy. I head to bed, not before thinking back.

He really was cute.

It's a while before I hear anything of Pavo. It's surprising when I do hear about him through my brother. We are sitting in for dinner, which is rare, and we are discussing our day when he pauses and glares at me.

Pointing his fork at me he says," You ruined my professional relationship!"

I gawk, pointing at myself in question.

"Yes, you," he chuckles," Pavo won't shut up about you."

I jokingly twirl my hair as I lean forward on the table, "Do you, like, think that he, like, likes me?" I say in my best high schooler voice.

"ew,," he cringes, reaching over and stealing from my plate," For making me hear that."

"rude," I answer, missing stealing back my food by a hair," So what's up with Pavo, why is he bugging you?"

He sighs," It's every day. He thinks he is being casual about it but the man is super obvious. I don't know what voodoo you put on him but the guy is smitten. Before I tell him anything I wanted to make sure you are cool with meeting him again."

I snicker," is big brother setting me up on a date?"

He fake gags," Disgusting. Horrific, downright awful. Consider it this way, I'm trying to keep Pavo out of my office so I can work."

"and keep him in my pants, got it," I nod. He pretends to vomit, though it looks very convincing.

"Nope, conversation over," He stacks up his dishes and heads to the kitchen," This never happened!"

I bite back a laugh," I appreciate you butting into my love life but I'd appreciate if you didn't"

"Well keep your love life out of my office," He yells back. He comes back into the dining room, holding the doorframe. "He is coming over tomorrow for a meeting, and he may have some extra time because he is getting here an hour early because I may or may not have given him the wrong time. I'm not saying I did, but you do owe me two tickets for my movie date next week with Rebecca."

I sigh," Send me the info and I'll get it to you." I want to argue but the idea of seeing Pavo again is too grand.

"Nice, you have dishes right," He runs off before I can answer," Thank you!"

Such a putz, but I can't focus on that. It seems I have a mini-date tomorrow.

I dress midway between casual and date night. It was a very hard combo to pull off but I'm working with the 'hot but cool' angle. However, none of this could matter because he is an alien who hasn't a clue what is considered "trying to look cute" flirting is. Ugh, this is hard.

I wait in the living room, trying to seem as relaxed as possible. I even practice little greetings in my head like an idiot. Thomas comes down the stairs in his service uniform, looking proper. It is interesting to think this wild teenager could grow up to be this proper young man, helping lead the charge in cross-universe communication with alien life.

"Hey, dipshit, he will be over in 10, stop looking so tense," He leans over the back of the couch and boops my nose.

Well, almost a proper young man.

The doorbell rings shortly after, and Thomas answers. I can hear Pavo from the living room and I can't help but get all giddy. I scold myself for the reaction, I had one conversation with the guy! Relax!

As I hear their voices near I stand from the couch, regretting the choice immediately. Stand when guests are over? It's not even technically my guest, but I guess it's polite.

Pavo rounds the corner and is now in sight. In the daylight, I can tell his body isn't black but a very dark purple. He doesn't have skin but a carapace, a hard shell protecting his body. He is very bug-like though he lacks any pinchers or antennae. His face is human-ish, his eyes are large, and his wide mouth. Spikes go along the back of his body, coming from his head and back. They are short but some stretch out long enough to bend and crick in different ways. It's almost like branches.

When Pavo sees me he pauses, eyes wide and a smile up his cheeks. He looks me over and with a jolt his spikes elongate, nearly catching Thomas in the face.

"Whoa," Thomas yelps.

"Hello again, Liya," Pavo greets, ignoring Thomas.

"Hello Pavo," I answer back," Long time no see."

"Long time indeed, I see you have upgraded from professional sleepwear," He teases.

"This old thing," I shrug," I think my oversized t-shirt works a bit better but I was told I may be entertaining guests today."

"you wouldn't mean me, would you," He asks, leaning against the couch. Behind him, I can see my brother miming choking, then pretending to stab himself with a knife. The drama queen.

"I'm going to set up," Thomas interjects into our conversation," Feel free to anything you want in the kitchen, just ask my sister here."

Pavo straightens," Oh, yes, thank you."

Thomas leaves us to our own devices, it feels like our chaperone left. I look Pavo over, watching the sun gleam off his shell. His uniform is interesting, bright white.

"Would you care for a drink," I break the silence.

"Yes please," He steps closer. I lead the way into the kitchen.

"Anything you want? I really don't know what would be edible for you," I ask, cringing a bit at the delivery.

"I was incredibly curious about the drink you had the other night, it smelled sweet," He answers, pointing to the fridge.

"Sweet tea," I ask, though it's pointless. How would he know the answer? "Let me grab you a little sample. Though a fair warning, it's incredibly sweet. Practically icing."

"Oh, even better," he takes a seat at the island as I grab a drink," I've been lured in with your human sugar. It's been incredible. I had those, umm, what's the name? The small brown bars with a wafer inside."

"Kit-kat or Twix," I ask as I pour a small glass. ," I ask

He clicks deep in his throat," Yes, that's it! The Kit bar." He grabs the glass I push to him, taking a small gulp timidly. In a moment he shoots back the whole thing. Setting the glass down he closes his eyes and savors the sweet syrup.

"Like it," I ask.

"Love it," He grins. Slowly opening his eyes he nudges the glass forward, "More, please?"

We chat a little between cups of tea, him chugging the rest of my full pitcher. He tells me about his home that he hasn't seen in years. I tell him about my life at college before I got my job. It's pleasant. If I didn't know any better though, I'd say his spikes we growing. About an hour later they had grown a few inches, making him look large and intimidating. Like some sort of tree monster outside my childhood window. Though that one was just an old oak while this one is a charming alien.

Thomas steals him away, not before Pavo extends an invite to his ship sometime. Invited onto an alien's ship, that sounds like a great start to some interspecies relations.

Thomas had managed to set up communication between Pavo and me. We chat on some app Thomas downloaded onto my phone. It's wonky and not the best but what's a girl to do? Pavo and I flirt a bit, though it never goes any deeper. Despite my best attempts, he just doesn't get into anything more sexual. I could be pushing too hard or their species just doesn't work that way. Maybe he doesn't even have sex?

Today though is the day to finally get on his ship. All the approval has been submitted- thank you, Thomas- and we begin a tour of his home away from home.

We meet at the airlock between his ship and the Space Hub for Earth. I'm escorted by some officers and we all greet each other on the bridge. When I see Pavo we both light up. His back branches are stretched out, looking truly like a tree now. He jerks a little as his spikes snap outwards tearing some of his uniform in the process. The officer next to me winces at the crack sound that comes softly from him. Almost like the quiet sound of someone popping their fingers.

"Hello, Liya," Pavo greets, grabbing my hand and giving a firm shake," I believe this is correct."

I shake his hand back," Little formal for friends but it works for now."

"Friends," he asks," are we friends?"

"For the time being," I hint. He smiles before greeting the two flanking me.

With that out of the way, I'm free to venture into the unknown. I feel like a pioneer, one of the few to venture into an alien's ship. I'm sure sometime in the future there will be museums for this sort of thing. 'Explore space right from earth' sign over a decommissioned spaceship. I chuckle to myself.

Pavo eagerly shows me around, explaining how this was his own personal ship that only a few of the higher-ups get. It attaches comfortably to the main HQ but can detach for personal exploration, pretty much an RV for space. A really spacious RV.

He shows me the dining room, the living space, the exercise room, and we pass by his bedroom. We don't look in as it's casually mentioned.

As we walk down the halls I slow back to catch a look at his back, all the spikey branches protruding out. I feel tempted to reach out and touch but worry about being taboo.

"Hey," I say instead," what's with the spikes?"

He pauses, glancing over his shoulder at me and then at his branches," Oh theses? It's kind of hard to explain."

"They aren't like, some puberty thing, right," I tease.

"No, nothing like that. It's normal given the circumstances," He answers.

"Well puberty is completely normal," I joke. He shakes his head at me, beginning to walk again.

"Come, I want to show you something." I follow him down the winding halls to a room we haven't seen yet. He enters a command and the doors open. I walk inside, eager to explore this new space. Though I'm let down. I look this way and that, seeing nothing of interest. Really nothing of anything. It's just a large open room. There is a large window that stretches from the floor past the ceiling. It's gorgeous, being able to see Earth just coming into view.

"Oh wow," I whisper. I walk ahead, completely enamored with the view. The stars are so plentiful, Earth is so big. I can see the swirls of clouds over the continents, the white of the Arctic, the blue of the sea. It's all so humbling, I feel so small.

I hear some clicks behind me, and before I can investigate I feel my stomach drop. Weightlessness overtakes me, my feet slowly rising above the ground. I twist to look over at Pavo who is also floating.

"Zero gravity room, though the whole ship could be zero gravity. This room is made specifically for that," Pavo answers. He twists to push off the wall and launch towards me. I can't stop the giggle bubbling out of me as he gets closer. Before he can reach me I push up towards the ceiling. He thuds against the window, growling playfully.

"why does someone need a zero gravity room," I ask as we continue our game of chase. He jumps up to me and I quickly pick a direction and throw myself to it. I bang against the door oh so gracefully.

"It's for health and pleasure," He answers," we spend some time in water, our body is used to a certain level of weightlessness. Though space has way less gravity than water, it still feels similar. So in an easier way of explaining it, it feels like home."

Pavo scrambles to get to where I am, scratching against the wall to stop his momentum when I high-tail it in the other direction.

"Homesick room, how cute," I tease. I get trapped in the corner of the room, the only way out is up. As I spring upwards, Pavo catches me. I'm held tightly against his hard body, laughing with him as we float to the ceiling.

"Got you," He smiles triumphantly.

"that is true, but the real question is...what are you going to do with me," I flirt. He purrs at the insinuation, leaning down to brush his head against mine. I close my eyes and take a leap, kissing him ever so softly. He pauses, confused but excited. He makes his own attempt at a kiss, pressing his mouth to mine stiffly.

"Is that correct," He asks.

"relax a little," I advise. Wrapping my arms around his neck, nestling them around his branches, I kiss him like I mean it. He kisses less stiffly than before, though he can't help being so hard. His arms fall from my back to around the back of my thighs. He squeezes and massages my thick legs, pulling me closer.

"you're so soft," he groans into my mouth," so pliant."

"Don't make it sound so bad," I joke. His chest rumbles, his back spikes pop, a low clicking sound emits from his mouth. He reaches behind me and anchors us to the wall before he attacks my mouth again. I give him a little treat, sliding my tongue on to lick him. He stumbles a bit, recovering quickly to nearly choke me with his tongue. I have to lean back to catch my breath, though the thrumming in my body proves how much I enjoyed that.

No longer having access to the new toy called my mouth he begins attacking my neck. I can hardly keep my eyes open as I'm seduced by this big alien. I scratch at his back, gripping onto his branch. He responds by biting me, a little harder than needed. I grab the spike from his head to yank him back.

"Soft skin, remember," I scold. He looks drunk, his eyes lidded and mouth open. He looks me over, squeezing my legs again.

"By the heavens, I want to devour you," he whines. A zap goes down my spine in fear and pleasure.

"Not literally, right," I ask just in case. He doesn't answer, instead flopping his head down to bite up my neck. He sneaks a hand between us to stretch my shirt. I hear the thread snap as he stretches the collar over my shoulder. His entire mouth slobbers over me, sucking and licking every bit of skin. I glance behind him, seeing the branches have stretched out into the room. The few close to the wall have begun to take root, spreading out around the wall like vines.

Well, that's interesting.

Pavo bites a bit hard again to my dismay, I can feel a few of his teeth pierce my skin. With a yelp, I tear him back to properly scold him. He looks debauched, utterly drunk and horny.

"whoa," I gasp," you ok?"

His head tilts to the side in answer, "Get your clothes off."

I hesitate," But are you ok?"

He growls," I will be when you get your clothes off."

"Geez," I begin taking my shirt off," so pushy."

He scoffs," so slow." He begins to unbutton his clothes, finding it hard to do as his body is anchored to the wall. He yanks, detaching the vines from the metal. As he yanks his shirt, tearing it completely off his back, the branches begin reaching out to the wall again, gluing themselves once more.

I'm working my pants off when he grabs me, my jeans barely hanging onto one ankle. His torn shirt drifts upwards past us. I look down between us, his pants mostly torn. His cock surprises me, not prepared to see him in all his glory. Holding himself I can't help admire.

There is no way else to say it, his dick is a tentacle. It seems like a few spiraled around each other like yarn to present as one single mass. It's pink and purple, a kind of spray paint space vibe. He squeezes himself, fluid leaking from between each tentacle. It coats his hand, drops drifting off in the zero Gs.

"whoa," I whisper, reaching out to him. He proudly presents, his chest rumbling and mouth clicking. I gently graze my fingers over him, letting a few floating drops land on my outstretched hand. He jerks a little at the feather touch, grabbing my hand and forcing me to hold him. My stomach does flips, he is so soft and squishy. It's like touching a thick cord of fabric, soft but just firm enough to hold shape. I squeeze, wringing out more drops as I pull to the tip. He purrs, his back branches reaching out more and making his body jerk.

Too fascinated with him I don't even notice when he moves his hand into my underwear. His other hand fondling my breast, though they don't keep his attention much as the slickness below. He investigates, poking and prodding as I investigate him. Everything is so different for us both, it's all so tantalizing.

"you're so warm," he groans, reaching in to shove a finger inside. I shudder.

"you're so soft," I squeeze him, relishing in the sounds he makes. I can't help but reach for a kiss, just basking in all the sensations and sounds. His fingers squelch as he puts two into me.

"you're going to take me so well," he nearly whispers," I couldn't imagine someone more perfect."

I kiss him again," you flirt." I squeeze his cock. His fingers stretch and glide, making the coil in my belly tighten and twitch. If only he would touch me where I need him. I buck my hips into him, whimpering against his lips. I forget he isn't a human man, someone who could potentially get the hint. Instead, I reach down and grab his hand. He freezes. I slide his fingers out of me, another shudder going up my back, and guide one of his fingers up. He barely grazes me and it's like lightning.

"What's this," He asks, abandoning my mouth to look between us. I squeeze him in defiance, he grunts.

"Touch me there," I whimper," please."

He needs no more instructions, stroking me timidly before gaining confidence. He is a changed man now, watching me whine and moan as he gets me off. He is enraptured with me, watching and waiting. I can't focus as my inside feels like electricity, like sparks coming from his hand. More. More. More. I'm almost there. I hold onto him, using him as an anchor as he keeps playing me like a fiddle. My legs wrap around his, like snakes intertwined. Just a little more. His cold carapace against my feet, his rumbling purr and clicks, the way he just wants to make me cum. It's all so much.

"Pavo," I yelp," oh, fuck."

I'm gone. I fall into bliss, debauched as he was a moment ago. I scratch at his body, not worried about hurting him. I curl into him, reaching between us to stop his ministration as they become too much. I bang my head into his shoulder, holding him for dear life. He grabs my hair, pulling me back just to watch.

"Beautiful," He grins so wide. I give a half-hearted smile, still lost to the wind. I don't notice when he adjusts me to himself, but I definitely notice when he is poking at my entrance. I sober, looking down as his cock unfurrows. The little appendages search around, grabbing at my thighs and poking at my lips. I take a courageous breath, a little terrified of what's about to happen. He twists back into one, the ends still split to make their way into me.

I choke as he stuffs me, his cock twisting and curling, pulsing within me. I'm having sex with an alien, the thought hits me like a ton of bricks. I look from the display that has disappeared inside me to the creature I've decided to lay with. He looks so beautiful. He can't focus, his mouth opening and closing as the clicking sounds more like pops. He damn near gurgles as his eyes close. He snaps his hips, both of us stuttering on a breath. I twine my arms around him and he wastes no time pressing me close. He cradles the back of my head, his other arm securely around my lower back.

Without a starting pistol, he is off. Completely secure in place he pounds into me like a desperate man, angling my hips with his arm on my back. I can do nothing but hold on, groaning in his ear. I get to watch the branches on his back snap and jolt outwards. Every single one finds purchase on the walls. They take root, running up and around the walls until they meet each other, making a beautiful lattice on the walls.

"Wow," I gasp between moans. He answers with a pained grunt, burying his head into my neck. His mouth opens to attempt to bite but he thinks better of it, instead sucking on my neck. I appreciate the forethought. He whimpers and whines, every most the lost whore beside my ear. It's a pleasure in itself to have someone so lost in you, so pleasured by your body. I hold him tighter

"Agh," he gurgles. He begins to speak in tongues, the words ever lost to me but the meaning coming through. He is fucked, coming to his end, and only at the mercy of his whims now. Oh, I want him to cum, I wanna feel it.

I snuggle into the side of his neck, the plates shifting as he twists his head away. I find a soft area just below his jaw, right below his ear. I find purchase and bite as hard as I can. He screams, the branches on his back bucking as they dramatically grow. I worry I've hurt him, I was only returning the favor. I pull away, feeling sorry for myself. He growls in answer, punishing me with a hard slam onto his cock. He pushes me back to his neck.

"Harder," he growls through clenched teeth," make it hurt."

Oh my.

I cozy up to him again, finding the same teeth indent I left before, and chomp down. He shouts again, more words I can't interpret. I bite hard, I bite until I hear his plates crack and my teeth sink into the soft part of his skin. He shudders, curling around me and pumping into me in quick bursts.

"Yes," he says like a prayer. Before I know it I feel him shake and sputter, gurgling again as he snaps into me one more time. It's warm and plentiful, I'm sure it's a mess below. Zero gravity surely making it look like a spectacle. Pavo holds me so dear, so spent.

I slowly pry my teeth from his neck, spitting out a few little bits of carapace. Ew. I lean back to look into my new lover's eyes. He barely moves, looking like he passed out. I grab the short spikes on his head, lifting him to look at me.

"Pavo," I panic," is this normal? I haven't a single clue."

He answers with a gurgle. Not helpful. I try to wiggle away from him but I can't move. I look around and see we are cocooned in a growing ball of branches.

"What," I ask as I look around. I try to wiggle out of his arms but he holds on. Tight for someone who is basically asleep. I panic, fighting hard against his grip. Only succeeding in moving up him a few inches.

"Pavo," I snap," let me out."

He groans, happy to just float in this weird ball of his own making.

"Pavo," I shout. His face pinches.

"Hush," he finally speaks," be still."

"Be still? How do you expect me to do that right now? I'm covered in cum, and my sweat is bubbling off of me. I'd like to experience gravity again," I snap. He finally opens his eyes, glaring at me. I glare back. He relents, shifting his arms with great effort. I wiggle away from him, floating up. I navigate around his branches, finding my way to the door. I pause at the controls.

"Press the orange one," Pavo says helpfully. I press the orange button. I fall to my feet, my legs giving out. Then there is a loud sound of cracking like a tree falling. I look up to see Pavo falling from his fort. All the branches snap and break apart from the weight of themselves. He falls onto his back, the ball crashing around him though the fall isn't so loud. More like Styrofoam hitting the floor.

"Ow, "Pavo deadpans. I can't help but laugh. I get to my feet and walk over to him, picking up my pants along the way. Sliding them on I crouch beside him, picking up one of the branches. It's surprisingly light.

"What are these," I ask, turning it every which way. It's porous, with little holes that are barely noticeable.

"My anchors," he answers," it's a whole thing."

"Is it for what we just did," I ask. He shrugs.

" mostly. Though it's not exclusively. Just makes a lot of things easier in the water," he answers.

"Like sex?"

He grins to himself, "Yes, like sex."

I clear a space beside him, lying down to look at the portion of the window that covers the ceiling.

"I have some more questions," I say as I clasp my hands on my stomach. He lazily raises a hand and flourishes to make me continue. "Explain the branches, please."

He sighs," It's mostly a sex thing. When we first met I was immediately enamored. I couldn't stop thinking about you. Then I saw you and I couldn't stop myself. I wanted you. So my spikes got ready. My species loves the spikes, it's a whole fertility thing. I was showing them off, looking all big for you."

"You were flirting with the tree branches coming out your back," I joke.

"Sure," he laughs," I knew I had to have you. I never knew it would be like that! I made a nest for you and everything. I wish someone told me it would be so...everything"

"Talking like a virgin," I poke. He doesn't laugh. I look over and he is serious. I sit up," are- were you a virgin?"

He winces," define virgin."

I bolt up, standing and pacing the room. "Oh my god, I took your virginity! I took an ALIEN'S virginity?"

Pavo sits up, stopping me with a hand on my ankle. "Why are you so freaked out?"

"Freaked out? I'm just surprised and I totally did you dirty. If I knew it was your first time I would have made it more romantic. I mean who would guess you were a virgin," I drop my head in my hands, shaking from side to side.

"Well it's to be expected," he shrugs," we only have one person we do it with."

My heart stops, "what?"

"My kind mates for life, I mean most aliens do. It's a survival thing. Doesn't your kind," he asks.

"No," I basically screech, " we do not do that! If we did, definitely not after like 2 dates!"

He stumbles on his thoughts, his face pinching inquisitively.

"I could have sworn you guys mated for life," he collapses on his back," what would you like to do now?"

I ponder that for a moment. What is there to do? He just committed himself to me forever. I have the option to leave but that just screws him over. Also, I still like the idiot.

I groan, walking over and lying down beside him.

"You better pray this will just be a funny story we tell people when we get old," I grumble.

"Don't be so dramatic, everything will be fine," he tugs me closer.

"It better," I cozy into his side," all that's left is telling my brother."

Pavo barks a laugh," I can't imagine the paperwork he has for this!"

----------------------------------

Hello! Hope you enjoyed the 2nd October story. After this month I will be on a hiatus once again.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog| Ko-Fi

[storm-angel989]

Yo I love your work.. anyway can I request Val x Fem Reader when Reader is on their period and the rest is up to you (I’ll cry if you actually notice)

Hi Friend,

Thank you for sending in your request! I always notice and read a request- sometimes it just takes time for my brain to buzz.

Now I have written this before. The link is here:

Valentino x Reader (Period Pains)

That being said….

Here is another version! Think OTO reader and Val after they’re married. 

<3 Mandy

The bright red stains on my favorite pajama pants began the start of that cursed day. It was going to be one of those mornings that lasted all day. 

It didn’t help that I woke up alone, my husband off to do whatever it was he did in his studio. Vox and Velvette were working and me? I was by myself. Which, as I poured myself a cup of coffee and stirred in my creamer, I figured was better that way. 

I lifted the mug to my lips and took the first sip of what should have been a heavenly experience. Instead, I was met with the bitter taste of peppermint.  I spat it into the sink and went to set my mug down. Somehow I missed the counter and shards of ceramic splatted the floor. 

“Fuck!” I yelled across the empty flat. I grabbed a roll of paper towels and cleaned up the mess as quickly as I could, tossing the shards into the garbage. Housekeeping would be up later, but with how the day was already turning out, I didn’t want to risk stepping on a rouge shard. 

“Who the fuck puts peppermint into their coffee without mocha?” I growled aloud as I shoved the creamer back in the fridge. 

Of course, I knew the answer was Vox. As much as he pretended he only drank black coffee, those of us who lived with him knew his guilty pleasure. Random flavored coffee creamers that appeared in the fridge each time it was restocked. It was just my bad luck that I had grabbed the wrong one this morning. 

Shoving the thought of making another cup of coffee to the side, I jumped into the shower, willing the hot water to take away the cramps that slowly awakened with each movement of the day. Fuck, there were some days I hated being a girl. 

But, like all women, being on our period wasn’t an excuse to miss work. Going to see Velvette in her studio was always an option, but just the thought of being touched by another being made me annoyed. I gingerly dressed myself and pulled my hair up into a bun. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I grumbled as I tried to hide the tiny whiteheads that appeared overnight with a strong dose of foundation. 

“Okay, I can do this,” I said to my reflection as I swallowed down several advil. “I got this.” 

Ten hours, eighteen phone calls and one ruined pair of underpants later, I stormed back upstairs to our apartment. 

“Babygirl, you’re home late,” Valentino’s voice rang out.

“I know, fuck,” I snapped without thought. The cramps, masked by the Advil I had taken this morning, left me both nauseous and crabby.  Every part of my body ached, and I could feel a headache starting to brew. I slammed the door behind me as I stripped off my outfit for the day. 

The bright red bloodstain on the back of my dress. I stared at it and without really knowing why, I burst into tears in the middle of my room. 

“Bebita?” Valentino’s voice came quietly from behind me. 

I felt him tug the dress from my hand and he wrapped his arms around me. I didn’t have to say a thing and instead laid my head on his chest as I sobbed. 

“Nothing a little stain remover can’t take out,” he said soothingly. “It’s alright. Why don’t you get in the shower? I’ll get your pjs and…”

“My two favorite ones are wrecked,” I choked out softly. “I bled all over the ones this morning, and my backups have a hole in them and…”

He pressed a finger to my lip and kissed my forehead. “Just let me figure it out while you go shower, okay?” 

There was something about he way he said it that left me with a feeling of comfort. I disappeared into the shower and by the time I came out, he was leaning against the bathroom sink, waiting. He handed me a towel and watched as I wrapped it around myself. 

“I have a heating pad and a cup of tea ready for you in bed. Toast, if you’re hungry. Advil if you want it. And if you’re in the mood to cuddle, I’m here. If not, I can stay with you or give you space. Remote is yours either way.” He pointed to a pile of clothes. “Period underpants. Vel sent them up. And…wear my pjs tonight. They’ll be looser than anything you own.” 

“Thanks, Val,” I said softly. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch when I came in.”

He cracked a smile. “Mi amore, I don’t think you know the true meaning of that word. Come on out when you’re ready.” 

I watched the door close behind me and got dressed in the outfit he left for me. I settled into bed next to him and sipped the warm tea. 

“I love you Val,” I said after a few moments. 

“I love you too, bebita. Even when you’re cranky,” he replied lightly. “And I always will.”

[demontonic]

Could you possibly do a WandaNat x FEM daughter reader where reader comes home with bruises from being bullied and tries to hide them but fails? And also that the reader is being cyberbullied please? Thank you!

Mothers Know Best

WandaNat x GN!Reader Mothers Know Best

WandaNat

tw: bullying

word count: 845

The air seemed to still once you entered your home, your legs sore and beaten as well as your hair tangled and ratty. You make a feeble attempt to smooth your hair down in the mirror by the front door, anyone who knows you however could tell you were shaken. Your arms were scratched all the up to your elbows from when you shielded your face. Mama Nat always suggested that she teach you basic combat to which Mother Wanda always declined. They both wanted to give you a normal household, keeping their abilities to a minimum to ensure regular development. In hindsight as Wanda begins to feel your overwhelming emotions, she starts to doubt her decisions.

Quietly sitting in your room, changed into a shirt with long sleeves and pj shorts, you try to process everything. Why has it always been so hard? Why was it always you? What was wrong with you? When would you stop feeling like this? Would you stop feeling like this?

“Of course you will love.” That sweet voice that had always been there when the monsters felt too real, or when you fell and hurt your shins. Her red hair came into view and the smell of vanilla and everything sweet filled your senses. You’re old enough to know about their enhancements without babbling on to everyone. Of course sometimes you hated the mind reading, but when you couldn’t face up to reality like now, it was a godsend.

“Just mean kids, a bad day, long walk home… I’m okay.” Lying right in front of Wanda was a stupid decision for anyone who dared. So when her hands grabbed your wrist and pulled your sleeve back you simply trembled. No argument or excuses to be made once her eyes zeroed in on the damage done to her precious baby.

“Who the fuck layed hands on you?” A voice you grew to both fear and respect rang like alarms in your ears. Your eyes catching on Nat’s fierce emerald pair, dread filling your stomach.

“I fell on my shortcut thr-“

“Through the creek.”

“Through the creek.”

Clearly they were tired of you defending your assaulters, it was common now. You believed that if you stopped caring they’d pick on someone who would give a reaction. Now being halfway through the school year your Moms have decided otherwise.

“Is that why you cry after getting phone calls? Are they bothering you at home now?”

“I don’t know who makes the-“

“You know the group who’s capable, that’s enough for me.” Nat took a seat behind you, cleaning off the thin scratches with a warm damp towel. Wanda sat in silence, hearing your mind race a thousand miles an hour. Her fingers brushed over your legs as she began to notice bruises, both old and some still forming.

“Tell us what happened, you know I don’t like forcing this information out of you.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“I either hack into the accounts that contact you and find their addresses, Wanda reads your mind, or you can tell us what happened.” Nat’s voice was stern, you could hear it falter as she tried to remain gentle but she succumbed to her instincts.

“It was a group of people from my art class, the teacher really likes my art so everyone calls me a teacher's pet. It only got worse when they found out I’m adopted. Today was just out of nowhere, I didn’t know they were following me. They kicked at my legs and shoved me into the bushes. That's why there’s… so much.” You ended with a hushed voice, gesturing to the visible marks.

“Those children are just that, children. They’re far less intelligent than you, emotionally and intellectually, you are different and they don’t like that.” Wanda brushed hair out of your face in order to lock eyes with you, cementing every syllable that came out of her mouth.

“So don’t let them work you up this much kid, in a few years you’ll laugh at them because they’re stuck working in fast food places.” Nat rested her hand on your shoulder while offering you a kind smile. You loved these moments, relished in them to be exact. You felt safe within their presence because you knew they’d do anything to maintain your happiness.

“You’re right, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it like that before.”

“Sometimes you just get caught up in the moment, just know that we’re always here for you- and! We love you, always.”

“Always.” Nat added as she kissed your forehead before standing and heading towards the door.

“Now I made some really good cookies that should be ravished while they’re still warm.” The three of you smiled as you followed Nat into the kitchen, the evening following as normal. A snack, tv shows, dinner and a movie. Tonight however Natasha and Wanda spent a few minutes finding the parents of these kids to make sure you’d never have to deal with them again.

I know it’s really short however I thought it best to keep this as like a drabble/scenario. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this cute little work, I am hopeing to produce better pieces in the very near future! In the meantime please do not be afraid to send requests and look through my masterlist!

[toxicanonymity]

please write more night walks!joel, i simp so hard for that man. and idk what it is but the night walks version of him but it made me simp even harder. the point is that at this poin i would do literally anything for just a little blurb about him.

Gotta say, I kinda love the increasingly desperate night walks & raider joel asks lmaooo these joels have too much power.  For the next night walks,  I received some hot thots and had some of my own. I have a vision I’m excited to work on this week. I hope no one is sad if I don't do their asks on this one, I may still in the future. Have to listen to the night walks!joel in my head sometimes . . .

MEANWHILE, since your ask was so humble, Idk what a blurb is officially, but here's a little blurb, I think.

night walks horny blurb(?): liquor store

350 | night walks!joel x reader | master list

You’re at the liquor store on your way back from the gym wearing shorts and a sweatshirt.  you bend down to pick up a handle of your preferred liquor.  Before you can stand up, you’re startled by something cold running up your inner knee, along your thigh and coming to a rest between your legs.  You freeze. 

“I’d recognize those legs anywhere,” he murmurs lowly.  “‘specially from that angle.” You stand up before you turn around. His voice does something to you.  You wish it wouldn’t 

“Jesus, I almost hit you with this,” you say with the bottle in your hand. Why are you relieved? Maybe that wouldn’t  have been such a bad thing.  

He’s holding a bottle, presumably what he touched you with, and wearing a chunky cableknit sweater that zips at the top and has a standing collar.  You almost want to say he cleans up nice, until you follow his hand down as he adjusts his crotch.  He’s wearing pj pants again. Double cheeked up, hard-on blazing at the moment. Jesus. 

He follows you to the check-out and you both have to wait in line.  He waits behind you.  “Where ya goin’ with that,” he asks. 

“Nowhere,” you say. 

“We should hang out,” he says and steps into your space.  His massive hand gently lays on your ass and his fingers spread out.  He presses them into your shorts and his middle finger runs up the seam of your shorts, making them dip into your crack. He helps himself to a handful of ass.

“Don’t think so,” you say and step forward. You're rapidly getting wet and don't want him to feel it.   

“Sure ‘bout that?” he asks and steps closer, putting his hand around your hip and pressing his hard-on into your asscheek. 

“Yeah,” you sigh.  “I’m exhausted.”  Interesting that you give him an excuse instead of simply saying you’re not interested.  Implying if you weren’t tired, you’d be down. . . 

“Suit yourself,” he says and steps back.  He adjusts himself again, clearing his throat.  

You stand in line in silence after that.  When you glance back as the cashier rings you up, he checks you out starvingly, wets his lips, then gives a fakely respectful nod.  

You take your paper bag and receipt, and say “bye.”

“See ya 'round, pumpkin,” he says.   

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione