#lines like this: 'But you picked up the doll. You held the door. And you don’t deserve this any of it.' and how you place them always hit m

[gravegoer]

ok ok hiiiii hope your doing well! Um this may be odd, but, imagine an au where fem reader sleeps in the same bed as best friend sevika but place a few pillows between each other because fem reader believes she's not into girls despite her best friend being an absolute hottie 😞

My Best Friend ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

this is ALSO one of my fav tropes, so thank you for this.. and yes I'm doing well ty summary: sevika could treat u better than he can !!! never let a man stop you from finding your wife. thats the moral for tday.

masterlist , upcoming: "First time" and "Safeword" wink

Sevika has been your best friend for a few years (although she would never admit it) and shes seen you through your best and worst.

After breakups with shitty men, she knows to find you at the last drop, laughing at your drunken state before dragging you home.

This was one of those nights.

She had you slung over her shoulder while she keyed the lock on her door, grunting at your head that lulled on her shoulder, "Are we home..?"

Sevika nodded, dragging you through the doorway and sitting you on the couch gently. She grabbed a glass from the kitchen and filled it with water for you. Her heavy shoes thudded on the wooden floor as she made her way back to you.

Sitting beside you, she held your chin, pouring water into your mouth, "I don't like seeing you with those blunder-heads."

You gulped down the cold water greedly, attempting to soothe the dryness in your throat. You held her by the wrist to steady her hand.

Sevika scoffed, and you knew she was referring to your exes. You giggled at her seriousness, "I don't think I like being with them."

You felt the pressure lift from your head, feeling more sober. Clinging to Sevikas arm, you sighed, looking up at her. "You're lucky you dont have to deal with boyfriends."

Her features twisted, contorting into a sour look, "You don't have to either."

"Hm?" You hummed, mindlessly tracing the rim of your glass.

"I mean, you could always try women."

You laughed and said teasingly, "Like at the brothel?"

Her eyes widened, and her brows furrowed, lips almost pulled into a pout, "No, no, like a girlfriend."

"What? Are you volunteering?" You smacked her on the arm and laid back further into the couch.

She smirked, Sevika’s cocky demeanor returning to her, "I wouldn't mind teaching you a few things."

You made a fake sound of disgust but laughed afterward. Although you couldn't deny she was beautiful, her thick arm was warm in your hold, and the angles of her face softened when you spoke.

Sevika treated you like no man ever had before. She was sweet in her own way, ans actually listened to what you had to say. You know she would never do anything to hurt you, and infact she was the one that picked you up after you got hurt.

You had never been interested in women, but Sevika definitely piqued your interest. Maybe it was all the memories you shared or the way she treated you. But maybe it was the way her V line connected to the waistband of her pants, emphazised by the warm light, the way her hair stuck to her sharp jaw that clenched under your gaze.

She interrupted your thoughts, "It's late, you should get to bed."

"Already? You aren't going to stay?"

She smirked again, revealing the flattering gao between her teeth, "All you have to do is ask, doll."

Heat rose to your face at the nickname. Maybe it was just the alcohol in your system, but it was starting to get hotter. You bit your lip, looking up at her through your lashes, "Please stay Sevika, I'll even make you breakfast before you leave in the morning."

That was music to her ears. At that, she stood up, grabbing your waist to take you with her. Eventually, she got tired of your stumbling and slowness and picked you up, arm under your legs, and prosthetic on your upperback.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around her neck, throwing your head back dramatically. She shook her head at your playfulness while kicking open your door.

Sevika tossed you onto the bed as gently as possible, and your eyes widened at the suggestive position you were in. She loomed over you, shadowing your body. Your knees were slightly bent and legs spread, almost inviting her between.

You could imagine her crawling up to you, hands pushing your knees apart to draw your face into hers. Instead, she sat beside you, leaning against the headboard and lighting a cigar.

Rolling your eyes, you pulled the blankets over you and laid facing away from her. She snickered at your mood change and patted you on the shoulder, "I want pancakes."

You didn't respond, humming at the thought of food. For the next several minutes, you could hear her mindlessly flicking her zippo top open and closed, flame flicking on and off.

You imagined her thick fingers against the cool metal, fire illuminating her always-bruised knuckles. Then, you imagined her fingers on your waist, then in your hair—

You groaned, shoving your face in the pillow, attempting to drown out the thoughts. The sound of her zippo halted before a small tiss, was heard.

You could feel the weight shift behind you as she moved to lay down, resting a hand on your back. Shimmying away from her touch, you rolled over to face her.

Sevika's eyes opened, and you immediately missed the peaceful look on her face. Now her brow was cocked and her lips curled downward.

Her grey eyes bore into yours as you spoke, "Only my girlfriend should be touching me in bed like that."

You mocked her words from earlier, but without any harshness. Her lips drew into a tight line, "I get it. You aren't into women. Im not trying anything funny."

She didn't have to say it because you knew she wouldn't. But a part of you didn't quite mind if she did.

"Okay, then—"

You picked up a few pillows, placing them between your bodies. "There."

She deadpanned, "Are you serious?"

You snickered, not responding, before turning back to your original position. After a few seconds, you heard her sigh and lay back down, definitely facing you. Sevika reached over the barrier to tug the blanket further up your frame, shielding you from the cold.

She treated you better than any man had, and you both knew it. Maybe you'll finally do something about it over some drinks tomorrow.

i laaaaauuuvvvvvvv best friend sevika, idk if ill make a part 2 tho, i have some more fics coming out soon, some kind of suggestive?? and nsfw..????!! so follow for that, all cumming this week

comment to be added <333

taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @slut4sevika @kylorey25 @sylencr @jinxjinxjinx12 @morphids

[seiwas]

omg i ran out of tags 😭 sorry for being so extra op 😭

but i just!! love the development he's had and how he no longer thinks about just himself and is starting to think about a life with you 🥺

your pacing in the bits that say 'he's so in love with you' and 'he likes you so so much' is immaculate!!!! truly felt that deep in my core and idk how you do it 😭 your writing truly has Magic!!!

and the end bit!! with october and the ring 😭 it just brings me back to their conversation: 'why grow something you're going to let go of' (or smth) and how maybe he's an answer to that :--( that!! the love has grown and both of them will have to let go but!! the fact is that the love has grown!! and it's there!! and it's the journey to that 🥺 idk i could be rambling but!!

op!! this is just truly!! thank you for writing this 🥺 i don't even know how to fully express how much i love your works!! i'll be thinking about this for a while, just like i think about all the other works of you're i've loved for a while 🥹

pairing : nanami kento/reader

rating : M tags : Strangers to Lovers, the butterflies are a metaphor, Caretaker Nanami, stalking mention, Soft Nanami Kento, vanilla sex, Nanami is a closet romantic i stand by that, bonding over reading and not talking about feelings

summary:

this never factored into his plan; meeting you is completely incidental. then again, isn't everything?

chaos theory (wc 4500) - ao3 mirror

[ckret2]

Chapter 75 of human Bill Cipher gradually becoming less and less the Mystery Shack's prisoner:

Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers!

They definitely won't get their lives endangered during the sleepover at all!! And if you believe that's not a lie, I've got a skyscraper in the second dimension to sell you.

####

A camera set up beneath the attic bedroom window recorded the dark room. In her pajamas, Mabel stood in the middle of the attic, boogying nervously to silent music.

A light shining from beneath the bedroom door turned off. Mabel stopped boogying, crept to the door, and leaned her ear against the crack.

She ran back to the camera and picked it up. "Okay," she whispered, "Dipper and Grunkle Ford are out on their mission, Stan and Abuelita are asleep, Soos finally knocked off building for the night, and Bill's in his new room. Welcome to... Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers!"

She held up a flattened cereal box she'd written the title on. The title was almost invisible in the dark, but it was framed by stars painted on with glow-in-the-dark nail polish.

"Step one: getting your friends in the house." She turned the camera around. She swerved over to Waddles's bed as she crossed the room, whispering, "Hey, wanna come to the sleepover?"

Waddles snorted gently in his sleep.

"Aww, that's okay. Next time." She rubbed his belly, then crept toward the attic door.

She tiptoed in her socks down the newly-built hallway and past the curtain hiding Bill's new room, padded down the stairs, opened the back door, and hissed, "Pssst! Coast is clear!"

Out from the tree line ran Candy, wearing a camo-print blanket like a cloak, and Grenda, dressed in black and with her arms and face painted in brown and green. Grenda waved ecstatically at the camera as she passed.

With Mabel in the back, they quietly crept upstairs, quietly snuck past Bill's room, quietly closed the bedroom door, and quietly squealed with excitement. "First summer sleepover at the shack," Candy said, flopping on her back on Mabel's bed and spreading out her blanket cloak. She sat up, noticed a cardboard cradle next to Mabel's bed, and picked up the porcelain doll inside. "Oooh! Who's this handsome gentleman?"

"That's Bartholomew! I told you about him. Barty, these are my friends Candy and Grenda."

The doll did nothing.

"You can say hi, Barty! I trust them!"

The doll continued to do nothing.

"He's shy," Mabel said. "He's totally haunted by a little Victorian boy, though, really."

Candy nodded. "I believe you."

"This is cool!" Grenda said. She was trying to scrub the camo paint off her arms and face with her hands. "I've never gone to a secret sleepover before. Next time we should sneak into my place!"

"Okay, so," Mabel said. "I promised you I'd introduce you to the secret guy that's been staying here as soon as it was okay to. And it's okay to! As long as nobody else finds out I introduced you."

Grenda nodded. Candy said, "This sounds reasonable."

"Anyway his name's Goldie, he's been staying at the shack this summer, he's really fun, he's kiiind of a bad guy but in a cool way"—(Candy appreciatively said, "Oooh.")—"aaand he's asleep right now." A dramatic pause. "But not for long."

Candy and Grenda grinned evilly.

####

"Secret sleepover step two," Mabel whispered. "Introducing your friends to your other friend!" The camera's dark screen was illuminated by a slit of light as Grenda pulled open the curtain to Bill's room. The dim starlight pouring into the room was barely enough to illuminate the white lightning and yellow circle of symbols on the hanging zodiac blanket as the girls pushed past it to creep into the room.

Bill lay sleeping on the chaise extension of the orange sofa, catty-corner to the doorway, curled up on his side with his back to the door. Beneath his curls, the eye stitched on the back of his hood peered out at the room, shifting up and down with his steady sleeping breaths. The girls crept up behind him, biting their lips to keep from giggling. Candy and Grenda flanked Mabel, arms raised in preparation to attack, as Mabel held up her fingers... 3... 2... 1...

Bill rolled over with a devilish grin and lunged at them. "HEY, KIDS!"

The girls screamed. They bolted for the hall with Bill's laughter following them.

####

"You should've seen the looks on your faces," Bill gloated. He was sitting on the floor, legs crossed lotus style, in a semicircle with the three girls around the camera Mabel had set on the sofa. They'd set one flashlight next to the camera pointing out and another on the floor pointing at the ceiling.

"You got us good," Candy admitted.

Grenda leaned across the semicircle. "Hi! I'm Grenda. This is Candy."

"I've heard a lot about you two." Bill sat back, giving Grenda a somewhat less than warm smile. "Call me Goldie."

Grenda gasped. "Hey! Candy, look at his eyes!"

"What?" Bill's gaze darted between the girls' faces. His eyes caught the faint light and flashed like a cat's.

"They did it again!"

"Whoa!" Candy got up on her knees and leaned toward Bill. He leaned away.

Panic crossed Mabel's face. "Uhh, I can explain—"

"We knew it," Candy said. "We were sure you couldn't let us meet Goldie because he was a werewolf catboy!"

"I dunno," Grenda said. "They look more like frog eyes. They're kinda bulgy, too."

Bill stared at Grenda. A broad smile broke out across his face. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about them!"

Grenda asked, "Do your eyes suck into your face when you swallow like a frog's do?"

"I dunno, swallowing makes me blink. You tell me." Bill deliberately swallowed.

"Ugh, they do! Gross," Grenda said approvingly.

"Why do you have frog eyes? Are you a werefrog?" Candy asked. "Or did a mad scientist mutate you?"

Bill said, "You know the story about the frog prince? My great-grandfather."

"He is not."

"He could be!"

"Anyway," Mabel said, "Goldie's not any kind of not-human person or anything, that'd be crazy. He's just a big secret because he's committed war crimes, that's all!"

Grenda and Candy considered that.

"That's cool." Candy slowly pulled out a makeup bag. "Do you like makeovers?"

Bill eyed her appraisingly. "How good are you?"

####

The camera sat tilted off to the side, catching Grenda, Bill, and a bit of Mabel's hair. Bill and Grenda sat just out of the flashlights' range while Mabel and Candy off-screen debated how best to shape Mabel's lips. Grenda held a purple tube of foundation in one of the flashlights' beams; the tube had a logo that looked like a lilac triangle with a single eye and thick purple lips. She uncapped a black eyeliner pen, drew a big X over the triangle's eye and gave it a curly mustache, and added a cramped word bubble over it that said "UGLY LOSR." Grenda chuckled.

Past her, Bill's eyes flashed in the dark as they narrowed.

"Finished!" Mabel announced. She turned the camera to face the whole quartet again. "Secret sleepover step three: normal sleepover activities! Starting with... makeovers! Remember, you're beautiful just the way you are; but a real artist can look at a human body and see a canvas. And canvases are for paint!"

She pointed the flashlight at her own face. "I call this look... the Showstopper." She had eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick—in three different shades of pink—liberally caked on with a crunchy layer of multicolored glitter and with plastic gems bedazzling her brow and temples. It looked bad.

Mabel pointed the flashlight at Grenda. "This one's... Beach Babe."

Grenda said, "Like a mermaid!" She had blush painted to look like scales, clumpy blue mascara and blue eyeshadow shaped like waves, and lipstick that looked like a fish. It looked bad.

Mabel pointed at Candy. "And this is the Glam Rock Revival!" Candy had a shimmery blue star painted over one eye and half her face, and a smaller matching star on her opposite cheek. It looked unexpectedly good.

"And Goldie..." Mabel pointed the flashlight at his face. "He kinda just... let us experiment with some designs Candy found in a makeup book."

One of his eyes had a neon rainbow eyebrow and eyelashes and tiny glittery butterfly stickers. The other eye had golden eyelashes and bright blue and black flames that would look at home spray painted on an old school hot rod. It looked bad.

"I look awesome," Bill said.

"And check out our mani-pedis!" Grenda grabbed the camera and pointed it down at their hands and feet. Mabel had messy watermelon nails, Grenda had decent French tips, Candy's actually matched her makeup, and Bill—who, unlike the girls, wasn't so much showing off his nails as he was just sitting there while Grenda waved the camera around—had a different set on each hand and foot.

Mabel said, "Goldie let us each experiment on one set of nails."

Grenda pointed at Bill's right hand, "I did that one!" He had five extremely long glue-on nails, which in turn each had two more glue-on nails on top, each trimmed to a sharp point. All fifteen nails had garish pre-printed designs—stripes, polka dots, and three types of animal print. None matched.

Bill cheerily said, "I could stab clean through a grown man's throat with these."

Mabel leaned closer. "Goldie, why's your other hand so boring!" His left hand had all black nails.

Bill said, "Turn off the flashlights."

Mabel turned them off. Five glow-in-the-dark eyes peered up from Bill's nails. The girls ooohed appreciatively.

"Now what?" Candy asked. "We can't do our other usual sleepover activities. Rom-coms, karaoke, and saucy book readings are too loud for a secret sleepover."

"Aww," Bill groaned, "I was looking forward to karaoke."

"Candy's right." Mabel turned a flashlight back on. "We'll have to get creative. What's a good traditional sleepover activity that isn't too loud?"

They sat around for a moment in silent thought.

Bill turned the other flashlight on under his grinning face. "You girls ever summon a demon before?"

The girls smiled excitedly.

####

The camera trained on Grenda and Candy as they leaned over the lizard tank in the Mystery Shack's museum, staring at the "baby dragon" display. "Awww," Grenda cooed. "Look at them! They're so cute." She stood on her toes and crossed her arms on the edge of the tank. "How do their fake wings stay on?"

"Alien superglue. It'll last until their next shed," Bill said from behind the camera.

"They're very brown," Candy said, disappointed. "I guess it's good camouflage." She held up part of her camo blanket cloak to compare.

Grenda said, "I think they're either western fence lizards or sagebrush lizards. Do you know where Mr. Ramirez caught them?"

"In the forests around town," Bill said.

"Western fence lizards," Grenda said. "If they're boys, they'll have blue bellies!"

"Oooh." Candy crouched down eye-level with the lizards trying to see their bellies.

Grenda tentatively reached a hand into the tank to pick up one of the baby dragons; it skittered under a rock for safety.

Bill said, "You know your lizards, Grendo."

"Heh. Grend-O."

Candy said, "Grenda is the reptile and amphibian expert."

"I have a book on them! And a pet iguana!" Grenda announced. "Hey, Gold-O! What's your favorite lizard?"

Bill was silent a few seconds. "Leeet's go with chameleons. They've got cute eyes."

"Chameleons are my favorite too," Candy said. "I like how they change color. Their eyes are freaky, though."

Grenda said, "I like chameleon eyes! They're crazy! I think it'd be cool to look two different directions at the same time."

Bill lowered the camera slightly. "What, you mean like this?"

Grenda and Candy gaped at him in shock. Candy squealed in discomfort and shielded her eyes. "That looks painful."

Grenda laughed. "Cool," she said. "Hey, you like frogs too, right? What's your favorite frog!"

"Golden poison dart frogs." Bill answered without hesitation. "The brighter, the better."

"I love poison dart frogs," Grenda said. "On my death bed, I wanna lick one to find out what it tastes like!"

"Bitter sushi, until your mouth goes numb," Bill said. "But if you're gonna get drugged by a frog, make it a psychedelic toad. They're more fun."

"Ohhh. Thanks. Now I wanna taste sushi!" One of the baby dragons crept up a rock; Grenda tried, unsuccessfully, to catch it again.

Bill walked closer to the tank to film the lizards. After a moment, he asked, "What're your favorite frogs?"

"Oooh, that's hard." Grenda put her hand to her chin, thinking.

Candy said, "I think... the little green ones with the guts you can see through."

"Glass frogs," Bill provided.

"Either red-eyed tree frogs or strawberry poison dart frogs," Grenda said. "Maybe the tree frogs. Dart frogs have boring eyes."

"One of their only flaws." Bill paused. "What do you think about axolotls?"

"Mr. Pines lets me feed his sometimes," Grenda said. "They're kind of overrated, though. Frogs are better!"

"Hm." The hm sounded approving. Bill reached into the tank, effortlessly scooped his fingers beneath the wings and around the belly of a lizard, and lifted him up. Candy and Grenda gasped. "One male in the tank." He turned the lizard's blue belly toward the camera too. It wiggled in distress.

"Got it!"

Bill swung the camera around to look at Mabel, who'd just triumphantly come through the curtain from the gift shop. She was holding a box of rainbow chalk over her head. "The chalk Soos uses for sales and stuff!"

"Perfect," Bill said. "Manage to find a religious text?"

"No, buuut I found a copy of a DMV manual at the cash register." Mabel held up her find. "Will that work?"

"Hm." Bill considered it. "I've never seen someone try it before, but traffic law is just as imaginary as any other divine commands! Just try really hard to have faith in the rules of road safety and maybe it'll work. Never know unless we try it out!"

"Good enough for me!" Mabel said. "What did we need a religious text for, again?"

"Oh, once the demon's here, it's the only thing that'll be capable of banishing it, that's all," Bill said. "So! Where are we drawing this summoning circle?"

They found a clear space in the museum on the floor near the treasure chest display. Bill handed the camera momentarily to Mabel while he drew a four-inch version of the summoning circle for the girls to copy. "It needs to be white and blood red. Do we have any blood red chalk?" He rummaged through the box of chalk. "Hmm. Okay, either one of us can let a lot of blood, or we can try it out with pink chalk. What'll it be?"

Grenda and Candy looked to Mabel, considering the question seriously. Finally, Mabel said, "Pink chalk sounds like it'll be faster."

"I guess," Bill said, disappointed. He finished his example circle and stood. "Okay, there you go! Usually you're not even supposed to draw the circle unless you've fasted for twelve hours, but there's three of you and you haven't eaten in at least four hours, sooo it's probably fine."

Grenda raised a hand. "I had a soda. Is that bad?"

"Naaah, a soda's more bubbles than liquid, I bet it barely even counts."

Bill took over camera duties again as Mabel and Candy each took a stick of white chalk to draw half the circle. They started at different sizes. They had to do a weird wiggly slope in order to make the two halves meet. Candy asked, "Is that good?"

"Hmmm..." Bill considered the lopsided blob. "It's good enough!"

While Mabel and Candy puzzled over Bill's tiny pink protective sigils and tried to figure out how to draw them bigger, Grenda leaned over to Bill and whispered, "Hey! Are you really related to the frog prince?"

"No," Bill said. (Grenda's face fell.) "I was cursed by a witch. I can see through walls and in the dark, but in exchange I have frog eyes."

Grenda's face lit up again. "Stupid! Frog eyes just make you look even cooler!"

"That dumb witch had no idea what a real curse is. I got nothing but benefits," Bill said. "All right, you asked me one, let me ask you one."

Grenda looked at Bill with trepidation. "O-okay?"

"What's with the face you were drawing on that triangle?"

Grenda seemed relieved by the question. "Oh! We're not really supposed to talk about it much? But there was this triangle jerk that tried to take over the world last year. So we're supposed to cover up pictures that look like him. I dunno, it's a whole thing."

"Okay," Bill said irritably, "fine. How come you make him look stupid, though?"

"Because he was a big monster that hurt my friends and wrecked the town," Grenda said hotly. "He almost killed Mabel!"

Bill was silent a moment. "Sure," he said tersely. "If that's what it looked like, I can see how that would leave a bad impression."

"Hey, Goldie," Mabel said loudly. "I think we're done! Does this look right?"

"Let's see..." Bill inspected the circle, circling the perimeter with the camera. It looked bad. "Looks good enough," Bill said.  "All right! Everyone in position around the circle—Grenda, you're on the circle."

"Oops." She slid her foot back, smearing the chalk line and one of the protective sigils. "Uhh... I think I broke the ring?"

"It's fine, it's small! And you can still tell what the symbol is. Mostly," Bill said. "Okay, everyone remember the chant I taught you? Three, two..."

The camera's audio only recorded a long squeal of distortion instead of words as the girls started chanting. Bill backed up to get a better shot of the whole circle. The girls' eyes began glowing white; the flashlights flickered; and a fiery cloud of smoke filled the ring, billowing from floor to ceiling. The girls stumbled back, shielding their faces from the smoke.

"Hey, hey," Bill said. "Get back in there! If you stop the chant before it's complete, you'll—!"

With a boom, the smoke exploded outward, filling the room and completely obscuring the camera's view.

When it cleared up, the ring appeared to be empty.

Bill aimed the camera down and zoomed in. In the center of the ring was a tiny imp. It looked like a skinny coral-red hairless mouse with a spade-tipped tail and little bat wings.

"—you'll only get a small one," Bill finished.

They crouched down and stared at it. "It's cute," Candy said. Mabel said, "I'm naming her Cinnamon."

It blinked big wet black eyes at them. And then it scampered out of the gap in the chalk line.

The girls shrieked. The imp chased Candy around the treasure chest. Grenda tried to climb onto a display pedestal with a taxidermy jackalope, screaming, "Get it! Get it!"

"Candy! Run this way!" Mabel got on her knees, Oregon state driving manual held high over her head. As Candy ran past, Mabel shouted, "I do believe in the speed limit!" and swung the manual down like she was swatting a bug.

The manual smacked the imp. With a puff of smoke, it poofed out of the mortal plane and back to where it came from.

"Nice banishment, star girl," Bill said. "Hey, not bad for your first summoning, kids. You'll be bargaining with demon royalty in no time."

The girls heaved a sigh of relief. "That went pretty smoothly, I think," Candy said.

"Yeah!" Grenda climbed down from the pedestal. "There weren't any weird life-threatening twists or anything!"

"That doesn't happen a lot," Mabel said.

The camera suddenly lowered, pointing at the floor at an angle. "Hey, Mabel. Where'd you get this camera, anyway?" The camera's view turned back and forth. "It doesn't look like the one you usually record your guides with."

"Oh, yeah," Mabel said. "Dipper's using our normal camera, so I'm borrowing one I found in a box in the attic loft."

Bill said, "The cardboard box covered in fifteen strips of duct tape?"

"Uh-huh."

"So, the cursed camera?"

A pause. "The what?"

The camera's view became a blur as it whizzed across the room, only focusing again when the camera was ten feet in the air and staring down at the group of four. The camera's neck strap had wrapped tight around one of Bill's wrists, wrenching his arm into the air. Candy and Grenda automatically clung to his sides, the one adult in the room; he had his free arm raised up to avoid touching Candy.

"Well! This isn't ideal." The camera had a clipped, artificial-sounding voice—but a familiar one. "I'd been hoping you'd split up so I could steal your souls one by one!"

Mabel said, "Why do you sound like Grunkle Ford! Did you steal his soul?!"

"Stanford's voice is just the only one it's ever recorded before tonight," Bill said. "If it had stolen his soul, you'd know."

"How?"

"Because he'd be dead."

"Oh."

"So much for the element of surprise." The camera's sigh was laced with the crackle of VHS static. "But as long as my secret is out... time to hunt!"

"Huh! How about that," Bill said. "Kids? Run."

Grenda and Candy turned and bolted deeper into the museum.

Bill turned to stare at them in bewilderment. "Not that way—!"

Mabel threw herself on Bill's arm, trying to jerk down the camera and pull off the strap. "Let go of my friend, you—!"

The screen blurred as the camera butted the side of Mabel's head, knocking her to the ground. Panic flashed across Bill's face. "Mabel!"

The camera took advantage of his distraction to snap its strap around both his wrists, bind them together, and yank Bill closer. "At least I get to take out the biggest threat first," the camera hissed. "Smile for the camera, sweetheart."

Bill shot the camera a glare—and then seemingly got caught there, unable to tear his eyes away from the lens, as the camera slowly zoomed in...

And nothing happened.

"It's not working," the camera said. "Your soul should be sucked out by now. Why isn't it working?"

Bill shook himself out of the trance and laughed darkly. "Because a force too powerful for your little electronic mind to comprehend glued my soul in this body so tightly, even I can't pull it out!" He leaned closer until one wide bloodshot eye filled the screen. "Go ahead, give it your best shot! Maybe you'll help tug it loose!"

The camera paused. "Are... are you alright?"

Bill jerked back, scowling. "Oh, just shut— Mabel! Flashlight!"

"Flashlight!"

Bill tilted his head aside just in time for a flashlight to sail over his shoulder and crash into the camera. It shrieked inhumanly. It crash-landed at a tilt, a crack in its lens, the shot unfocused. Bill's blurry form looked down at the camera, holding the flashlight—and then he turned and ran for the curtain into the gift shop. The camera slowly rose back up.

Mabel shouted, "Bi—Goldie! Come back!"

"Keep it distracted!"

"You don't even need a flashlight, you coward!"

The camera's blurry view focused. The crack in its lens repaired itself. It stared at the curtain where Bill had disappeared, snarled, "Not worth it," and rounded on the museum.

And then it began stalking its prey.

The camera followed heavy thudding to find Grenda trying to knock down the main entrance's locked door. "Come on!" Grenda grunted. "This! Doesn't! Meet! Fire codes!" As she glimpsed the camera's approach, she gasped, flipped a rug over it, and bolted. 

It zoomed past Sascrotch, peered behind it, and caught Mabel and Candy clinging onto its back fur. They screamed, dropped down, and ran two different directions. The camera glanced between them indecisively and snarled in frustration when they both turned corners before it could choose a target.

It passed a six pack-o'-lope, a mummy, and a triclops skull; heard a papery rustle; and did a double-take at the displays. Grenda, wrapped in a bunch of receipt paper from the gift shop, ran away from the former "mummy" display.

It swooped under a taxidermy turtle with wings to find Candy hiding beneath the turtle's shell; Candy flipped the shell over the camera before she ran the other way.

It chased Mabel around a barrel of monkey heads, ending in a stalemate on opposite sides of the barrel with each of them twitching left and right trying to figure out which way to run; until it remembered it could just float over the top of the barrel. Mabel backed up and blew a handful of chalk dust in the camera's lens. By the time it wiped its lens clean on a dried monkey pelt, Mabel was gone.

It circled around the invisible man to see whether its cloak hid any children behind its back, made a noise of disgust when it didn't find any, and turned to leave. "Wait a minute. That man isn't invisible!"

Candy—her face beneath the "invisible man's" suspended glasses and bowler hat—sighed harshly and threw down her camo blanket, revealing she was sitting on Grenda's shoulders. "This camouflage doesn't do anything!" They tumbled to the ground and ran different directions.

This time, the camera didn't make the mistake of hesitating before choosing a target. It flew after Grenda.

Grenda stopped in a dead end with a gasp. "Uh-oh." She turned to see how close the camera was behind her, flinched, and tried to dodge around it. It jerked to the side, backing Grenda into a corner.

"Back off, you big, ugly—!" She punched the camera square in the lens, her fist filling the shot. The crunched lens had repaired itself before Grenda stopped shaking her smarting hand. She gasped and covered her eyes. "Please don't take my soul! I'm using it!"

"Not for long!" The camera's strap whipped around Grenda's wrists, yanking her hands down. "It's time for your close up!"

Grenda tried to turn her face away—but the camera caught her gaze, and she turned toward it, eyes wide, hypnotized. The shot zoomed in. A swirling green mist began spiraling out of Grenda's eyes.

Until another set of eyes cut in between, yellow and slitted and furious and framed by mismatched eyeshadow. "Miss me?"

"You," the camera snarled.

Grenda cheered, "Gold-O! You came back!"

"Hey, Grend-O." Bill glanced back over his shoulder. "Sorry for the wait—takes a while for glow-in-the-dark nail polish to charge and dry."

"Get out of my way!" The camera tried to butt the side of Bill's head.

He caught it in his left hand without looking, his arm extending off the edge of the screen like he was taking a selfie. "I don't think so." He raised his right hand—several of the ludicrous nail extensions had already broken off—with palm facing out. There was a symbol painted on his palm, glowing whitish green; but whatever symbol he'd painted on his palm couldn't be fully seen because the moment it was in full view of the camera's lens, it became so bright it almost completely washed out the rest of the frame.

The image skipped and the audio recorded a shriek of static before the camera managed to wrench itself free of Bill's grip and rush back.

Bill caught it by its strap, twisting it about his left wrist to keep it secure. "Now let's get this straight," he snarled, teeth bared at the camera. "Everything beneath this shack's roof is my domain and under my protection! If you want to hurt anyone here—" his voice dropped demonically low, "—you'll have to get through me." He dragged the camera closer. 

He clamped his right hand over the camera's lens, trapping it with the glowing symbol on his palm; the static screamed, stuttered; and then the film overheated and melted.

####

The camera switched back on. "Welcome back to Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers!" Mabel's left eyeshadow and blush was smeared across her face. "Weee're back! Goldie taped a symbol to the camera that keeps it stunned, so we're safe! Woo-woo! Now, back to sleepover step, uh... seven or something: greeting the sunrise with your friends who didn't get any sleep!"

She turned the camera toward Candy and Grenda, who were sitting with her on the saggy sofa on the back porch. They were blinking dazedly toward the glowing horizon.

"And now you've completed a successful sleepover! Great job, everybody!"

"You kids can stay up if you want," Bill said. (Mabel aimed the camera down; Bill was lying on his stomach on the porch, cheek resting on his crossed arms, eyes shut.) "I'm already asleep."

"Boo," Candy said. "Sleepover quitters are lame."

"Yeah," Mabel agreed. "But he saved our lives, I think he earned it if he wants."

"Do you wanna sleep on the couch?" Grenda asked. "There's still some room! We could squish together!"

"Nah, s'more comfortable down here," Bill mumbled. "My back's killing me."

Grenda laughed. "Old."

"I got assaulted by a camera!"

"Hold on, I have an idea!" She got off the couch and knelt next to Bill. "I saw this at the mall once." She dug an elbow into his back. "Is this helping?"

Bill grunted. "More to the left," he said. "It might be helping a little bit..."

Grenda pressed her other elbow into his back, putting her upper body weight on it. "How 'bout now?"

"Not quite..."

Candy climbed on the arm of the sofa and crouched there. "Let me try!" Grenda leaned back. Like a wrestler, Candy jumped in the air and dropped, sharp elbow first, onto Bill's back.

Bill's eyes flew open and he let out a strangled shriek of pain. It petered out. "Oh, hey—that actually got it. Thanks, kids." He sighed in relief and immediately fell back asleep.

Grenda pumped a fist. "Yes!"

"He really was tired," Candy said.

"So, what'd I say, girls?" Mabel asked. "I told you Goldie was cool, right?"

"Okay, you were right," Candy said. "He is a very patient makeup mannequin."

"And he taught us how to summon demons and saved our lives," Grenda said. "And the first thing didn't even cause the second thing! Which is weird!"

Eyes still shut, Bill mumbled, "You flatter me."

"Hey!" Grenda picked up a sofa cushion. "You're supposed to be a-SLEEP!" She swung it down on his head. He only laughed.

"Yes!" Mabel cheered. "And the moral of the story is the friend of my friend is my friend's friend! Or—wait—no. The friend of my friend is my friend too?"

From under the cushion, Bill said, "The friend of my friend is my rival for her attention."

"No!" Mabel turned the camera to herself. "Anyway, that's Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers! Tune in next time for... I dunno, maybe alpacas or something. We'll see!"

She set the camera in her lap, episode completed.

####

(Would you look at that, positive character growth. Hope you enjoyed, and looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!)

[glossgojo]

haven’t i given enough?

sex pollen miguel o’hara x afab reader

| cross-posted from ao3 | 4.5k

18+

cw: breeding, multiple orgasms, PAST THE POINT IT STINKS, mean dom!miguel, mating press, man-handling, use of “girl”, big dick miguel, size kink, blood, marking, squirting, come eating, dumbification, it’s filthy this is getting rated so fast

plot: miguel comes home infected with s*x pollen and p0rn with barely any plot ensues

“doll are you awake?” miguel stumbled through the front door of his shared apartment. sweat lined his forehead as he held his mask in his hand, his whole body felt hot. the spider-man raked a hand through his dark curls, his head throbbing along with other parts of him. no matter how much water he drank he felt thirsty. he needed to shower, needed to wash off whatever illness was seeping into his bones and taking rest there. ever since he left the lab he had broken into, he had felt this inky feeling take residence in his stomach and spread. he had missed the spot by a hair, only driving frustration deeper into his bones. he gripped his mask tighter as he made his way across the living room to where you most likely slept. it was late and you probably fell asleep waiting for him. besides the fact that his body was like a tightly coiled spring, there was another issue he was ignoring. it felt heavy between his legs and he knew you’d be able to help him in the morning but a cold shower would have to do.

he hopped into the shower, dealt with the ache in his bones and released the coil that felt like a permanent resident in his core. as he stepped out of the shower, toweling off his body and trying to ignore the incessant buzz in his body he noticed his issue had returned. miguel was able to satisfy you multiple times in a night but this was the first time he was hard moments after coming. was it related to the sickness? was it why he had nearly broken a lamppost on the way over after he imagined you waiting up for him to return home?

whatever it was his feet moved to their own accord to where you lay peacefully asleep in your shared bed. miguel pulled on his boxers over his now painfully hard issue and slowly crawled into bed, pulling back the covers enough to see you sleeping only in his shirt. the sight alone made him shiver, a sweat back on his brow as he forced his body to slowly move towards you and pull you as gently as he could back against him. you stirred in your sleep, ever the light sleeper and turned your face towards him. miguel could see in the pitch darkness of the room, regrettably he could make out how your lips parted and upturned at the knowledge that he was holding you.

“you’re home, hi baby.” you mumbled, the sleep subsiding in your body as you felt the hard line of his member pressed against your back. he could feel your body tensing, could hear your heart rate pick up and it took everything in him to not pull your mouth to his. he could even smell your perfect little cunt getting wet for him. you turned fully towards him, your breasts pressed against his bare chest. he pulled in a breath between his clenched teeth, his whole body sensitive to any touch from you. the throb he felt earlier was back in full force, in fact it had only gotten worse since he got closer to you. he couldn’t sleep, not when he could feel his fangs getting sharper and his hunger for you insatiable.

“migs-you are you okay?” you brushed back his hair, feeling the sweat there and placing the small delicate hand on his tensed arm. miguel couldn’t formulate a response he was staring at your soft lips and your gentle hand looking oh so small compared to his arm, and how pretty it would it look around-

a growl escaped his lips and he pulled your lips to his by the back of your neck, you were so pliable, so willing to give him anything, that you kissed back with just as much fervor as him. his fangs scraped your lips and his tongue fought to taste every inch of you, sucking the air from your lungs. finally you pulled away to breath, his lips still insistent on tasting you. he kissed your cheeks, your nose and then finally your neck, his sharp canines grazing the skin there and making you gasp. you shoved at his chest gently, and miguel pulled back to see your flushed cheeks and confused expression. you could still feel his member pressed between you two, long and thick and painfully hard.

but despite that you couldn’t understand miguel’s actions. he usually was so spent after a mission he wanted to cuddle up and sleep, at the most he’d want to wake you up with an orgasm. you switched your bedside lamp on, withdrawing from his hold and taking a look at him, trying to see if his eyes were more red than black. you didn’t see what you expected, you thought perhaps he was hungry and that’s why he was acting like this.

”migs?” you were sat up, letting the lamplight illuminate his features. his eyes were flickering between your chest, your neck and your eyes in rapid succession. his shirt was too large on you, draping on your shoulders and exposing the top of your breasts. you weren’t even sure he was listening, until he stared you in the eyes and sat up too, moving closer as he did.

”think i got infected during the mission, it’s the reason for-“ he looked down at where his hard-on created a tent in the covers. you gulped and nodded. “i tried dealing with it in the shower, but i need you.”

“i’m yours, you know that, use me.“ miguel felt like he fell in love with you all over again as he registered your words. in a fluid movement he pulled you under him, laying you flat on your back as he hovered above you. he pushed his shirt up your body, revealing a lack of underwear. no wonder he could smell your saccharine sweet musk as soon as he touched you.

“dirty fucking girl, were you waiting for me to find you like this?” miguel tutted, getting comfortable between your legs and blowing hot breath over your core. you whined at his tone, knowing you were in for a long night that would no doubt leave you sore. his eyes were a mix of red and brown, pupils blown wide from want and sweat dripping down his brow, you combed his hair out of face wanting to see your handsome boyfriend’s expression before he feasted on you.

he hummed in delight as he saw the bite mark he’d left next to your cunt, scarred and distinctly his on the soft flesh of your inner thigh. his plump lips pressed against the sensitive skin, looking at you as you gasped out, silently asking for permission for what he loved doing every so often. as if you’d ever want any other man like you needed him, miguel liked to keep your scar fresh, let it ache and sting as a reminder of who you belonged to. and you didn’t much mind the sting. you nodded, clutching his strands for something to ground you, silky smooth and soft in your hands as you felt his fangs graze your flesh. he never made the pain last long, biting into your skin quickly, not too deeply. just enough to let his bite mark pebble with fresh blood, lapping at the addictive taste of you, growling as you whined at the sting and rush of miguel fervently drinking you up. he’d told you once that no one in the world tasted as good as you, of course that didn’t just include your blood. “so sweet. me vuelves loco .” you shuddered as he hummed against your skin, still not where you needed him, his sharp jawline grazing where you were practically dripping and you tugged at his hair.

“i get it doll i get it, fucking needy huh baby? do you need my cock that bad?” he lapped up the remaining blood and kissed the raw skin, his hot breath blowing over you throbbing clit. you knew miguel, knew he wouldn’t let you get what you wanted until you begged, until you gave in. he watched your pretty little cunt glisten and clench around nothing, so desperate and wet all for him, all because of him.

“yes yes! i’ve been thinking about it all day!” you finally gave in when he blew cool air on your cunt.

“hmm, about what?” he kissed your clit as a reward, but didn’t move any further, you gasped and bucked, his hands were on his hips in a split second, holding you down. you felt like you were dripping onto your silk sheets, you supposed it didn’t matter, you’d have to change them after he was done with you.

“about your c-cock, wanted you to fuck me until i can’t walk. miss you all the time, need you inside me all the time.” you were babbling now, you meant all of it of course but you’d never admit it unless you were under your lover on the brink of tears. miguel growled at your confession, pulling you by your hips towards his face, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue pressed flat against your dripping folds. you whined out his name, his tongue delving into you and cleaning up the mess you’ve made of yourself. miguel was relentless in tasting you, wanted your taste imprinted in his mouth and wedged between his teeth. he’d stay here forever if he could, drawing his name from your lips and drinking in all your ichor.

“m’ close.” you were gonna come just from his tongue alone and miguel could feel his hard-on straining in his pants. he didn’t feel too far off from his own release, the grind of the bed sheet against his clothed cock combined with your pleasure was getting him so inexplicably turned on. whimpers slipped past his canines. just as you arched your back, one of his hands moved down to stroke himself and with a few pumps he was coming in his boxers as you released onto his tongue. he drank you in, fucking you through your orgasm until you were pushing at his forehead. miguel moved back and the dim light reflected over his wet chin and lips. you felt dizzy at the sight and felt like fainting when you looked past his chiseled jawline and chest to where light reflected off the cum on his stomach. you couldn’t ignore the still hard and throbbing cock that was pressed against his stomach. his eyes were narrowed and his chest heaving, he licked his lips and you couldn’t help the whine crawling up your throat. you crawled over to where he kneeled on your bed, pressing kisses to his face, his hands finding your ass and gripping tightly as you cleaned him up. you trailed kisses down his chest, down his abs to where he made a mess of himself and you licked him clean. your mouth watered as you moaned at the taste of him, moving south to press a kiss to his large tip.

“not so fast,” he you pulled away by your hair, your follicles screaming for release. loosening his grip, miguel pushed you down on the bed, crowding you against the bed frame until the top of your head bumped against it. “wanna fuck this pretty pussy, remind you who you belong to.” you nodded fervently, looping your arms around his thick neck and pulling him for a kiss. miguel huffed a laugh at your desperate actions. he was going to ruin you, make sure you couldn’t walk properly for a couple days without the reminder of him and here you were begging for a kiss. you were his sweet dumb little puppy, so willing and needy for him. he appeased you, kissing you deeply as he lined up his tip with your entrance, his slick combined with yours let him slide up and down your cunt drawing all your ichor and catching on your clit. you dug your nails into his back at the feeling and begged for him to move, to do something.

the feeling of your pretty cunt getting wetter just for him and the smell of sex in the room was enough for miguel to push into you, his fat tip bullying your hole and stretching it wide. you gasped at the intrusion, always so big and wide it never got easier when he shoved in. had miguel been a little more in control of himself he would’ve waited more than the three seconds he gave you to adjust but instead he plunged his entire length in, his tip brushing your cervix as he stretched you wide. your cunt ached from the stretch and you felt him throbbing inside you, filling you up. you twitched from the feeling and miguel growled at how tightly you were clenching him. “you’re made for me, fucking slut clenching me so hard i cant move.” he murmured into your flesh and you clenched even more at his words, your slick leaking out of your hole, the base of his shaft wet from your ichor. miguel pulled out slowly, you weren’t easing up your grip, and pushed back in. you went dumb as his cock grazed the spot that made you crazy. he came inside you with a grunt, filling you up and making you leak down your thighs and making even more a mess of himself. but almost as if it never happened he was hard again, your eyes widening at the feeling of him going limp inside you and then filling you back up. miguel didn’t mind, he’d use your sweet little cunt just like he wanted to, no matter how many times he had to.

with that he pulled back out and plunged back into you, the sound of your slick coating his cock and his sticky balls slapping against your ass filled the room. he set a brutal pace, making you scream and claw at his back. he was fucking you harder than ever before, using his strength and speed to mold your walls to his length, your cervix bruising from his pace. you felt a coil tighten in your stomach, unlike any orgasm you’d felt before and without warning you were losing control. before you could realize what was happening you were squirting down miguel’s chest. it was the hottest thing miguel had ever seen, his dick twitching inside you. “que maravilla. pretty baby, i didn’t know you could do that.”

“me neither i’ve never-ah fuck miguel,” the thought of you being driven to squirting because of him made him all the more feral, he shoved your legs over his shoulder and angled down deeper into you, his curved cock taking what was his and hitting that fleshy spot inside of you, making you forget the words that were on your tongue. your head lolled backwards, the expanse of your neck all too tempting for him to ignore. he fucked your harder watched you squirm and cry his name as his teeth graze your unmarred skin. miguel found the soft spot on your neck that made you clench around him even harder, his lips and tongue laving over it making you gasp and whimper his names. before he could warn you, he was coming inside you, plunging deep and filling you up again as his fangs bit down and drew blood from your neck. he fed from you as his cum flowed out of your tiny cunt, dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. you gasped at the feeling of him draining you of blood, the sting quickly replaced by the dizzying feel of him feeding. miguel used his toxins to quell the pain all the while releasing his load inside you. you were a complete mess, blood trickling down your inner thigh mixed with both of your releases and saliva dribbling past your lips.

after a few more seconds he unlatched from your neck, pressing a few more kisses at the sore skin before pulling out and looking at the mess he made. you were sprawled out, his come slipping out of you in spurts and you had never looked more beautiful. he quickly remedied the first issue by fingering his come back inside, not letting any go to waste, the feeling of you clenching around his finger made his cock twitch. the burn in his body has lessened but it was still there, the need to keep taking you incessant as he hardened again. you whined at the sight.

“you can take it whore.” and you would, you’d let him fuck you for the rest of your life if you didn’t have obligations and other needs. you whined at the feeling of his cock sliding against your entrance again, you were sure your cunt was bruised by how rough he was being.

“let me-“ you moved to sit up, shoving at his hard chest and making him sit. miguel watched your breasts shake as you shoved him down and straddled him, his come slipping out and onto his bare thighs.

“you’re wasting sweetheart, how many times do i have to breed you?” miguel slapped your ass in warning, growling out at a warning and you whimpered, not feeling any more in control even in this position. you slowly lined him up with your entrance and sank down, the stretch not being the issue but in this position he felt even deeper. you felt like he was poking your heart, you couldn’t bottom out, could only take what felt comfortable. you set a slow pace, your thighs burning as you moved up and down his length, the sound of your cunt milking him was obscene and made you flush even deeper. miguel felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment and the way your eyes glazed over in arousal.

“dirty fucking slut, milking me for all i have, you hear that? that’s how wet i make you, that’s my come inside you keeping you full.” he growled into your ear, guiding your hips to move as the sounds filled the room. you couldn’t ignore them, your eyes shutting in shame and miguel huffed out a laugh. you decided to take pay back as your thighs were getting sore and took all of his length, sitting down and grinding on his balls, his cock catching on your cervix and pressing against your most sensitive part. your clit ground against his hips, raw and throbbing from what it’s been through and miguel could feel it against him, could feel you dripping onto him and another whimper escaped his plush lips. you smirked at the sound, reaching up and pulling his lips to yours. he kissed you sweetly, letting you take your time as you grinded on his length. when he pulled back and saw your fucked out expression and felt you clench around him when you looked in his eyes he lost his resolve again. his hands gripped your hips as he pulled you up and down on his length, fucking up into you. you went dumb in his hold, head and eyes rolled back as you clutched his shoulders for support you were babbling and squirming in his hold, tears leaving your eyes from the sting and his rough hold. he was being so mean, so rough you couldn’t help the silent tears slipping down your face as you cried out his name.

finally he came inside, grinding you down and against him where he knew your clit was, drawing you to orgasm as well. your legs shook and you lost sensation in them as you came, leaning against his chest for support as you whined at the overwhelming feeling. “ me tratas tan bien. pretty baby, my princess, my doll.” he moved to lay down, his cock still inside you. you were like a toy, his cock and cum stuffed inside you as you rested on his chest. you brought your legs to lay fully on top of him, looping your arms around his waist as best as you could.

“love you” you murmured into his chest, you were exhausted and miguel could feel it in your voice but he didn’t know when this feeling would go away, you were the only thing making it subside.

“i love you too,” you could feel him hardening again, you knew this small reprise wouldn’t last long but your bones ached and you would revel in the rest. his large arms easily pulled you tighter against him, against the hard planes of his chest and he grunted at the feeling of your nipples grazing his skin. he could feel all of you, he could feel you clenching on him, could smell your sweet ichor and your distinct musk, he could hear your shallow breaths and reveled in the soft plush of your skin under his hold. miguel wished he could just stay here like this with you, but lately he was so busy he felt like there was never enough time.

with his cock hardening again and you catching your breath he switched your positions, you lying down and this time he flipped you onto your stomach. he pulled a pillow under your hips, elevating them as he shoved back into your fluttering hole. you were so wet and messy from his come, the room smelled of sex and you thought you would have to air out for a week for the scent to clear. it didn’t matter, you’d do it all again. miguel was slow this time as he used your body for his release, his hips slapping against your ass every now and then, when you could feel him close he picked up the pace, smacking your ass lightly as he came inside again.

“good girl, taking everything i give you huh?” you nodded fervently, he turned you over to look in your eyes, loved seeing your pupils dilated and watery with unshed tears. his thumb wiped your saliva from the corner of your mouth, prompting you to moan his name, scratchy and desperate. god how would he ever stop coming if you looked like this, all for him. miguel quickly moved your position again, man-handling you once again and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. he placed you on one of his strong thighs as he sat back against the headboard, his hardening cock nudging your own thigh. you were angled so that your legs straddled his thigh instantly coating the hard muscles and dark hair with a layer of slick. he clenched under you, drawing a gasp from your lips and he chuckled at your reaction.

miguel’s hand slowly moved down your chest to between your legs, spreading them and tracing your puffy clit with his fingers. you held onto his arm for support, in disbelief that you could possibly orgasm again. but you didn’t want to be alone, not when his 12 inch issue was back again. you reached out a shaky hand, scooped up some of the come dripping out of you and coated your own hand. miguel watched your small hand wrap around his length, groaning and throwing his head down onto your shoulder as you slowly teased the tip and moved down. his fingers lazily circled your clit, matching the rhythm you set as you traced the veins of his cock and moved your hand up and down. miguel wanted nothing more than to devour you whole, watched as your tiny hand struggled to wrap around him and still meticulously stroked him like you knew he liked. he drew his hand up to his mouth, licking clean the mess your cunt had made on his long thick fingers before plunging three of them deep inside you. you stuttered out a moan, your hand loosening it’s grip but recovered quickly as you picked up the pace. you matched how fast he was fucking you, his large arm caging you against him as you squirmed on his thigh. he plunged his fingers in and out so quickly you were sure his movement was blurring, you gasped and cried out but still you squeezed and stroked his length. you were miguel’s best girl, you took what he gave you and still gave it back, god he loved you.

miguel felt close, stroking your clit with the thumb that wasn’t inside you and watched as you squirted all over his sheets and leg. the sight made him growl, possessive to no end and he pressed a kiss to your neck as he came from your touch. he spilled all over his chest and your hand, eyes closed and groaning into your shoulder as he felt himself unravel. the itching and burning in his bones was subsiding more and more, maybe this would be the last time, he didn’t really want it to be.

“look at the mess you made, límpiala ahora.” you licked his abs clean, then your hand and miguel watched as you did it, grasping your chin and making you hold his gaze. once you were done and satisfied he pulled you up to kiss him, craning your neck to meet his lips as he tasted himself on your tongue. he slowly moved you to get on all fours, your arms and legs shaking from exhaustion and screaming for release as he moved behind you.

“gonna fuck a baby into you, make you walk around with my kid so everyone knows who you belong to.” he was rambling to himself, watching his come still drip out of you and fucking it back in with his cock. miguel fucked into you from behind, you screamed at the feeling, every new angle ripping you open and making your walls flutter. your head bumped the headboard as he pulled back and fucked into you, clapping against your cheeks and making you skid forward on your knees from the force. he was relentless, using you like the pretty cunt you were, coming into you once, twice, and the third time he thought was enough, especially since your arms had gone limp and your voice was barely above a whisper, only his name on your tongue. you were sure you were bloated from how much come he’d pumped into you now, you’d feel him inside you for days to come, feel the ache for at least a week.

maybe subconsciously that was enough for miguel because then finally, he could feel at peace. the disease or virus or whatever it had been was easing out of his body, he was carrying you to the spare bedroom and wiping you both clean. tomorrow he’d let you do whatever you want to him, let you yell at him for the legs that surely wouldn’t work and dots on you like you deserved. but right now he wanted to sleep with the feeling of you stuffed full of his come, still deeply inside you and imprinted on your walls.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Forest guardian

Daryl Dixon x reader [pt.2]

You plan a week long vacation to a luxury cabin. Luxury is nowhere near what you find.

Yet another AU, mentions of canibalism, also Merle is gross.

The bald man behind the counter of the shoddy store was probably the grossest dude you had ever seen, cleaning what looked like blood off his hands while he kept so openly staring at your tits in the low cut top and following you around with his intense gaze as you picked up some items from the racks. "Dontcha worry, doll. Had ta quit skinnin' rabbit when I heard ya come in. S'legal in these 'ere parts." He reassures you, and after you paid you sadly needed to interact with him even more, seeing you weren't familiar with the roads and needed help finding your destination.

"Oh, tha' cabin's over 'ere on tha' road. Can't miss it, sugar." He doodled a little house on the map for you. "Gotta park righ' 'ere." 'here' was marked with a small X. "Road ends, rests'a sand path, too narrow fer cars." With a filthy grin he pointed at the map and marked the location of the place you rented to spend a week in nature to heal. You needed to be away from society for a bit and booked this crazy cheap place in the middle of the woods close to a gorgeous lake. It surprised you there weren't any more cabins like that around, the area was so nice it would make a perfect luxurious vacation spot. Still, that gross man's voice rung in the back of your mind. "Now dontcha go swimmin' in tha' lake, missy. Pretty lil' thang like yerself'd gon' get snatched up ne'er ta be seen 'gain."

On the way to the cabin, following the route you were suggested you passed the lake and watched the sun cast a beautiful gleam over its surface.

'This really is too gorgeous to go swim in.' You mind wondered to the cabin as you closed in on its location, turning the last corner before the road cut off and your small path through the tree line became visible. Not wanting to walk the path twice you stacked everything you took onto your body and started to lug your stuff forward, seeing you had to round the cabin to make to the front door.

The cabin that looked nothing like the photos on the website.. "Oh of course I got catfished by a fucking cabi--"

Stopping dead in your tracks you dropped your bags and sent yourself forward, up the wooden porch and down on your knees.

A man laid passed out in the door opening of the cabin, his breaths shallow. Every item he wore was covered in dried mud and stained to hell and back. A dead rabbit laid beside him, probably dropped from his grasp when he went down. Kneeling closer you looked him over for and wounds and found a deep gash on his side when you turned him over, and saw what looked like a stab wound on his upper arm.

Underneath long, greasy hair there was a large gash on his face, long healed over and leaving an angry scar over an empty eye socket and one side of his mouth was torn open.

You wanted to stare but needed to help this man first, going to find your first aid kit and cleaning the wounds after dragging him onto the cot in the corner of the ratty cabin.

"I'm sorry." You murmured at the man who didn't even hear you as he was out cold. Applying the disinfectant to his wound had you wince along with the soft twitch of his body and a wave of panic washed over you.

What if he woke up, with you hovering over him? You had spotted the throwing axe strapped to his waist, along with two large hunting knives and suddenly prayed you wouldn't end up on the wrong end of those.

When he didn't wake you continued to clean and bandage his arm, and thanked yourself for throwing a pack of butterfly stitches in your bag and carefully stuck them over the cut over his side with one hand as the other held it closed between your fingers.

Wrapping his arm was easy, but having to unroll the bandage around his waist was proving to be a challenge, having to shove your arm underneath his body to pass the bandage to your other hand multiple times.

The invasive movements had moved the man's body and it surprised you he hadn't woken up by the time you tied off the end.

With his wounds patched you could only sit around and wait. You got scammed by a too good to be true offer on a cabin and the first thing you had to do after getting creeped out in the shop was patch up a stranger's wounds yourself because the area had no service.

Curiosity got the best of you after a moment and you went to snoop around the place, passing time by going through cabinets and drawers.

At the third drawer you opened you felt like you stumbled on a goldmine. A black wallet and chain, and a passport laid pushed towards the back.

"Daryl Dixon, huh." Both the ID and the passport belonged to the man, and other cards in the wallet held the same name. It had to be him.

You gave the pictures a long inspection, turning to go compare to the passed out man behind you.

Instead, before you got the chance to turn a hand came and snatched the items from yours. "S'mine, thank you very much."

With a shriek you turned to face the voice and were met with the iciest blue eye you had ever seen.

The open drawer dug into your back as you tried to move away from him.

With the stabbing feeling your gaze turned back to the drawer, hoping to close it but something familiar caught your eye. So instead you dug your hand to grab at a flyer, and with it pulling out a stash of attached papers that scattered over the floor and made Daryl take a step back.

The paper in your hands was filled with the same photos as the cabin rental showed. "The hell?" It was a sales flyer, it told about the building plan for a large amount of cabins surrounding the lake. You looked past the flyer to the floor, bending down to look at the various news articles about the area.

"JUST ANNOUNCED: NEW LUXURY VACATION HOMES." That one spread information about the upcoming tourist attraction.

A smaller piece announced a delay due to "disagreements from locals." You thought if Daryl and the shop guy were those locals.

Then a large, gruesome front page spread.

"MASSACRE AT BUILDING SITE. PROJECT CANCELED."

The title did the article no justice, the first sentence warning people to stop reading if they were easily nauseated, and continued on to go into detail of the events where a whole building crew was murdered mere hours after their scheduled arrival at the site. The murders deemed "too gruesome to share in more detail.".

More articles of missing campers and words of the mysterious serial killer in this area were scattered around and that sudden panic from earlier arose again.

You were dead. It was a fact at the time you first thought of it and it was still a fact now that you saw all this. With shaking breaths you slowly looked up at the man still standing before you.

His hand rested on the handle of his hunting knife, fingers not yet curled around it. His one eye staring, clearly deep in thought.

"That's you, right? The killer?" Your fingers rested on a smaller article, looking further up at his face.

A quiet acknowledging grunt left him as he turned around and ignored your further words.

Daryl's mind raced with opinions, facts and other voices that all called out different things.

He killed trespassers. Humans were bad for these woods, they shouldn't exist here. Except for him and his brother. But this one healed him, patched up his wounds and made sure he didn't die. You weren’t here to harm..

His wandering mind had led him outside, lighting a cigarette and deciding to return the favor and rummage through the bags you brought, fishing out a tub of cookies from your backpack.

From just outside the doorway you heard the familiar click of the tub clasps opening, followed by a loud crunching.

“Huh. HEY!” Getting up from the floor you made your way over to the man and snatched the box from his hands. “Those are mine, thank you.” Your tone mocked his from before and Daryl grunted in protest.

“Why’re ya ‘ere anyways?” You huffed in response, a hand on your hip and pointing the one with the box at where he still sat in front of your pile of bags. “Obviously I came here on vacation, but I guess I’ll be driving home again since I got scammed…”

You had moved to start packing up your first aid kit and moved over to stuff it back into your backpack but pausing, and handing the kit to Daryl. “Why?” He spoke around lungfuls of smoke before blowing it out away from you. “Got ‘nough a’those layin’ ‘round.”

‘Why’re ya tellin’ her tha? She saw yer a killer. Why aint she dead yet?’ The voice in his head blended with his brother’s, scolding him like he was so used to, but still not believing you were harmful enough to kill.

Besides, you knew how to tend to wounds which was useful.

Hell, even going out to find his brother to bring him an outdoor oven and ingredients to make those cookies and keep you around just fir those was enough to dispel the voices.

You were standing in front of the storage space at the back of he cabin and you were worried. Why were you following this killer and not just leaving your stuff behind and running to your car? You’d never speak of this and find some excuse on the way home. But still you kept standing there next to him as he opened the door and showed the huge collection of useful stuff. All taken from trespassers.

“You’re killing me aren’t you?” The words weren’t supposed to leave your mouth and a hand clamped over it immediately after, eyes on him in fear as tears threatened to spill due to the panic you were causing yourself. But then again, would it really be that bad if he killed you? No more shitty jobs and cheating boyfriends. No more crying yourself to sleep over bills and food.

“Yer dif’rent.” You barely caught his words when he disappeared into his stash and throwing a soft fuzzy blanket at you. “Feel tha’ one. Ya like tha’?” You hadn’t throwing the item until it hit you in the face, grabbing to catch it before it hit the ground and being taken off guard even more by how soft it was. It calmed you, rubbing it against your cheek. At the sight of the tab on it you gasped, taking a closer look at it and staring back at Daryl, your previous worries entirely overridden by the shock. “Why do you have a hundred dollar blanket in your shed?”

He only shrugged. “Sum whiny whore had it. Guess ‘er boyfriend thought campin’ at a pretty lake was gon’ get ‘em laid or sum’n.”

“Bitch was fuckin’ disgustin’.” A shudder ran along his spine at the memory of cutting her open. “All ‘er curves fake, no meat left on ‘er bones tha’ was edible. Damn fillers leakin’ out of ‘er flesh over the fire.” He just rambled about it like it meant nothing to him at all while you stared. He ate them? You were getting hungry just now but that feeling faded just as quick upon hearing him talk.

He saw the disgust on your face and decided he needed to shut up. “Ah, sorry. Ain’t normal people talk.”

His apology really came out of left field and had you swallow a giggle, but failing and sputtering out a laugh. “Why even are you telling me all this?” Despite your laughs it was a serious question. “I mean, what if ai leave and call the cops on you?” Not that you were going to, but you got curious and had already decided you were fine with however this day was going to end. If this guy as gonna roast you over a fire then so be it, you weren’t scared anymore.

“Who says yer leavin’? M’keepin’ ya ‘ere with me. Yer dif’rent.”

Different. There it was again, he’s called you that more than once now. “Who says I want that?”

“Y’aint runnin’ yet.” He put his pointer fingers together in a counting gesture. “Ya patched me up. An’ yer not scared a’me ‘n ma face.”

It’s true. When you first saw his face it shocked you a bit, but mostly you were curious how someone could survive a wound like that. You nodded thoughtfully, not entirely aware you did so and earned a smile. “I aint plannin’ on eatin’ ya. But ya gotta respect ma rules or I’ll change ma mind ‘bout it.”

“If you’re talking about eating people you better end me now, there’s no way I’m doing that, ever.” You held your hands up in defeat with the blanket tossed over one shoulder. “Go ahead.”

This time it was Daryl’s turn to laugh. A deep, rumbling laugh that had you squint at him. He laughed?

Your calm around the offer for him to kill you right where you stood surprised him. You really didn’t care if he took you out. He respected that, so as long as you were fine with his ways he had no reason to get rid of you. “Dontcha worry yer pretty lil’ head ‘bout tha’. Aint gon’ make ya eat ‘em. ‘Nough small game ‘round ‘ere fer ya. I’ll keep ya fed.”

Oh. That wasn’t so bad. Yeah, rabbits and squirrels weren’t part of your menu now but as long as he wasn’t feeding you humans.

Talking about eating made the grumble in your stomach make another appearance, this time accompanied my the unmistaken noise of hunger. A huffed laugh and a nod towards the front door had you both back inside where Daryl still had his rabbit he had started skinning at his makeshift kitchenette across the room rom where you sat on the bed eating your leftover sandwich.

You observed him from a distance. How he skillfully took apart the animal and separated the meats while keeping an eye on his fireplace in the meantime.

“Hey, c’mere.” Without looking up from his work he waved one hand above his head to get your attention. He made sure you got the pieces you wanted, and prepared them to your liking. The way he was roasting them over the fireplace was almost like an inside barbecue.

“Smells nice.” You had moved to sit next to him beside the fire that roasted your dinner.

You ate together and spent the time after in quiet togetherness. Daryl cleaned up the rabbit’s leftovers and spent some time doing god knows what outside while you stayed in. You sat on the bed fidgeting with your clothing and the soft fuzz on the blanket he gave you. For a short moment you wondered what you were still doing here, why you hadn’t gotten up and started walking away, but now your mind was blank, staring mindlessly at the floor. You didn’t even notice Daryl come back in. He just suddenly appeared in your view, dropping a stack of bedrolls and sleeping bags at your feet and beginning to roll them out. When you realized his implications you let yourself fall. Ack with a sigh. You really had been here since early in the afternoon and still hadn’t made an effort to leave and were about to spend the night in a killer’s cabin in the woods..

You wondered if all these setbacks in life had officially driven you mad.

After you offered to take over from Daryl to “make your own bed” he only scoffed and tapped your ankle to make space. “Makin’ ma own bed ‘ere. Ya keep the cot, s’fine.” You went back and forth a bunch of times but he kept insisting you kept the bed. Why was he so kind?

You tossed him his pillows and got a quizzical look that followed you as you went to retrieve the ones you brought from your duffle bag at the door. With an understanding grunt he moved on, unzipping a sleeping bag and laying it over the bedding and left through the curtain beside the kitchenette.

“You brush your teeth?” You were seriously confused now. “You, a serial killer living in the middle of nowhere, brushes his teeth.” You pointed at him, hand palm up in disbelief. He rolled his one eye at your wording and took the thing from his mouth and pointed it back at you in an almost threatening way. “Yeah, so?” He spoke around a mouthful of foam. “Ya will keep up too when ya gotta yank out a rotten tooth ‘n can’t eat nut’n but soup fer weeks.” He scoffed at your assumption of his hygiene just because he killed people. “Gotta keep clean ta eat. Can’t eat, can’t hunt. Can’t hunt, can’t keep them woods ‘ere safe.” His tone was serious, he meant every word and made it clear these woods meant much to him. Enough to kill for. After he was done he turned away again and the room fell silent once more, taking it as your cue to crawl under the soft blanket Daryl gave you and sleep for the night.

You were about to lay down and zone out when he walked back through the curtain, ducking b something out of one drawer lower than you got before when you got there and move back, keeping what was in his hand hidden from your line of sight, but you caught something in his mouth for a second. “Wait. Hold up.” Oh fuck. His mind told him he fucked up by grabbing that magazine. You were gonna ask what he grabbed and there was no way you needed to know what he was planning to do behind that wall. You sat up and watched as he peeked his head from behind the curtain to look at you with a raised brow, faking his best annoyed look. “Hmm?” With a toothbrush between the scarred end of his lips he waited for you to speak.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

nose in a book {bucky barnes}

plot: the coffee shop you and bucky frequent is also a library and every week, you have your nose in a new book.

request by sunflowerkitten2: a coffee shop meet-cute

character: reader x bucky barnes

In all of his years, Bucky Barnes had been to hundreds of coffee shops and had drank thousands of crappy cups of coffee but recently, he'd began to drink at this coffee shop. It was a small shop, half library half coffee shop with warm lighting and a nostalgic musky smell from the old books that adorned the shelves. There was a certain charm to it but the coffee certainly wasn't it. The coffee was actually pretty awful but there was a reason that Bucky kept coming back to this one.

The reason was you.

Each time Bucky came into the small shop, there you sat same time every Saturday morning, same time but always with a different book in your hand. From the first time Bucky entered that coffee shop, he was intrigued by you.

You were usually too concentrated on the book to look up at him when the chime of the door went as he walked in. Sometimes you caught each other's eye and exchanged friendly smiles but that was rare.

Bucky had never approached you, he wanted to but he wasn't that confident around asking beautiful people out anymore. He had changed a lot since the forties. Today though, the book you held in your hands was familiar to him... in fact it was one of his favourites; The Hobbit.

"You know," he said gently as he approached you, voice soft so's not to scare you, "I was there when they first printed that book."

With the comment, you expected it to be attached to a ninety year old man (which he was but you didn't know that yet) and instead you were met with the blue eyes of a very handsome thirty something year old. You laughed, "That's a rubbish pick up line," you teased.

Bucky frowned, "Not a pick up line, doll," he said, "I was actually there. 1937. What a year."

You blinked at him, insanely confused, before your foot pushed out the chair across from me, "Okay, I gotta hear this... How?"

He sat with a smile, reaching his hand across the table to shake yours, "Bucky Barnes, ma'am. Pleasure to meet you." Bucky... Barnes. That name sounded familiar.

Then it clicked.

"Oh!" You exclaimed with a little surprise as your shook his glove clad hand, "Oh my god, you look so good for your age." You hadn't meant to say that, it sounded pretty fucking weird but Bucky's face split into a wide grin. You were amusing. Usually, when people realised who Bucky was they recoiled with fear or at the very least they'd be apprehensive to talk to a ninety something assassin but you... you looked intrigued? He laughed, thanking you for the compliment that slipped out.

"Have you read Lord of the Rings?" You asked him with slightly warm cheeks.

It was his turn to be confused, "I don't think I've ever heard of them."

"Oh my god!" You gasped, "So obviously this is the Hobbit and this is a prequel to The Lord of the Rings which is hands down one of the best series ever written. They made movies of them too! It follows Bilbo's nephew, Frodo and his quest to destroy the Ring."

Bucky vaguely recalled Stark talking about movies that sounded similar to that title, "Are they any good?" He asked, genuinely curious, "To be honest, I've not seen many movies."

"They're so good. They made Hobbit movies too. Three."

He frowned, "Three movies? Did two more Hobbit books come out then?"

You shook your head, explaining that it was three movies centred around the one book, "I really liked them," you shrugged, "but is that because I just absolutely love the Hobbit? Who knows?"

As you and Bucky continued to chat you realised a very important fact, "I just realised I never told you my name," you said stopping mid sentence, "I'm (y/n). It's so nice to meet you, Bucky."

Bucky grinned, "Trust me, doll, pleasure's all mine... Now, can I buy you another cup of coffee?"

[scoonsalicious]

4.2 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, mentions of Bucky's past.

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Bucky convinced Sam to lie to Lily for him if she asks where Bucky is tonight.

A/N: In the car, I just can't wait / To pick you up for our very first date!

Is it cool if I hold your hand? / Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You were nervous. Why were you so nervous? This man had already had his mouth on your lady bits; there was no reason to be nervous about just having dinner with him, right? Yet your heart was racing as you waited for Bucky to come pick you up for your date. 

You must have checked your hair and reapplied your lip gloss a thousand times when the doorman buzzed to let you know you had a visitor. After telling him to send Bucky up, you glanced at the clock– he was exactly five minutes early, and you stifled a giggle at the thought of him pacing in front of your building until an appropriate time. 

Soon enough, there was a gentle knocking at your door, and with a last glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you opened the door.

You both stood there for a moment, taking the other in. Bucky looked positively resplendent in a black suit and burgundy button up– no tie, and the first few buttons left undone. The contrast with his eyes made them look even more blue than you remembered from this morning.

“Hi,” you breathed. “Uh, hey,” he said, seeming to come out of a trance. “You… you look fucking amazing.” You ducked your head to hide your blush– you’d put on an emerald green, A-line Chiffon cocktail dress with an asymmetrical skirt that hit just below your knees and a peekaboo cut in front– held together with beading– and a v-tieback. “Stole my breath for a minute there.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling the blush creep up your cheeks.

“Oh, these are for you,” Bucky said, handing you a bouquet of white roses.

You held them to your face and inhaled. “They’re gorgeous, thank you,” you said, moving aside to invite him in. “You’re spoiling me, you know that, right? First the orchid, now the roses?”

You moved toward the kitchen to find a vase to put the flowers in. 

“Did you like the orchid?” Bucky asked, almost shyly, as though he was afraid he’d made a wrong move. You turned back to smile at him. “I loved it,” you told him honestly. “How did you even know orchids are my favorite?”

Bucky chuckled and nodded his head toward your living room wall, where you had three giant paintings of orchid flowers hanging over your sofa. “Just a lucky guess, I ‘spose.”

“You’re very perceptive, Mr. Barnes.” You put water in the vase, setting the flowers inside and placing them on the dividing wall between your kitchen and dining room. “There,” you said, stepping back to admire them. 

“You ready to go, doll?” Bucky asked, extending his arm to you. 

You took it gladly, slotting yourself next to him as though you were made to fit there. “I am,” you said.

Bucky had borrowed one of Tony Stark’s sports cars for the occasion, and you felt incredibly fancy as you drove through the streets of the city in it. You and Bucky made small talk on your way to the restaurant where Bucky had made a reservation for the two of you, and you found him so incredibly easy to talk to. You talked about the differences in the army between the ‘40s and now, and shared a few light war stories. By the time you reached the restaurant, he had you laughing so hard at a story he told about living with the Avengers that you thought your sides were going to burst.

You weren’t sure what kind of establishment you’d expected him to bring you to, and truthfully, you would have been thrilled with a regular old burger joint, if you were going there with him, but when you stepped out onto the rooftop terrace, you let out a gasp. The restaurant overlooked the Hudson, offering a dazzling view of the sunset over New Jersey. The tables were all tucked behind and around towering pieces of greenery– palms and ferns, and blossoming shrubs offering a screen of privacy for every group of diners. Overhead, cafe lights hung from pergolas, washing the area in a soft, warm light. It was heavenly.

Once Bucky gave his name and the hostess began escorting you to your table, he leaned in to whisper to you “What do you think?”

Your head was moving in every direction as you tried to take in every ounce of ambiance. “It’s gorgeous, Bucky,” you told him truthfully. “How did you find this place?”

“Pepper Potts recommended it,” he said. “She said it was the perfect spot for an intimate meal. Plus, they close for the winter, so if I wanted to take you, I’d better do it on one of our first dates.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, studying his face. “You’re planning multiple dates already?” you asked, a curl to your lips. 

“‘Course, doll,” Bucky said as you approached your designated table. “Gotta whole list of things I wanna do with you.”

You felt your face flush as he pulled your chair back for you before gently pushing you in. 

“So, what’s on this list?” you asked him once he’d sat himself down. 

“Nuh-uh,” he chided you. “They’ve gotta be surprises, at least until we get closer to ‘em.”

There was no way this man was real, you thought. No way you, of all people, could get lucky enough to catch his eye.

The waiter approached, asking if you would like wine for the table, and a panicked look flashed across Bucky’s face. You asked the waiter for a few more moments to decide.

“What is it?” you asked him.

“I have no fucking idea what wine to get!” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “Fuck! I knew I should have asked Pepper!”

You reached across the table and put a comforting hand on top of his. “Hey, it’s okay,” you told him. “I actually don’t know shit about wine, myself.” Bucky gave you a skeptical look, but you nodded reassuringly. “How about we just get cocktails, instead?”

The smile Bucky gave you then was equal parts relief and gratitude. “Yeah,” he said, looking much happier. “I’ll get me some of that delicious girly shit.” He winked at you, and you laughed. 

The waiter returned shortly, and you both placed your orders. Once he left, you realized you needed to come clean about something.

You cleared your throat. “So, uh, I actually have to confess something to you,” you told him, fidgeting with the napkin you’d placed in your lap.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked, leaning forward, eyes sparkling in the soft light.

You closed your eyes, feeling horrible for what you were about to say. “I… I Googled you,” you told him. 

Realization dawned on Bucky’s face. “Oh,” he said, expression falling. “Yeah… uh,” he coughed into his hand. “That makes sense. So, you came to dinner to, what? Just let me down gently?”

Your mouth hung open in surprise. “What? No!” You reached over to grasp his hand again, this time interlocking your fingers with his own. “Look, the truth of it is, I told a couple of employees– my friends– about meeting you last night, and they brought up your trial.” Bucky visibly flinched at your words. “I admit, I knew nothing about it– it happened around the same time I was getting divorced, so I was kind of preoccupied for a while,” you said. “So, when my friends told me about the charges, I got… curious.”

You noticed Bucky was studiously looking down at his bread plate, not meeting your eye. “Hey,” you said, tugging gently on his hand. “Look at me.”

He slowly raised his eyes and you were struck with how… remorseful they looked. “The more I read,” you told him, “the more I realized the whole thing was a trumped up circus. Anyone with an ounce of empathy could see that you weren’t responsible for what you were made to do; that you were a victim. They just needed someone to blame, and you were a convenient scapegoat.”

“Doll,” Bucky said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, “you don’t understand. I–”

“No, Bucky, please,” you said to him. “I don’t want you thinking you have to disclose anything to me unless you want to and you’re ready. I just want you to know that I don’t hold those things against you. I don’t blame you, and I don’t think you should be blamed. I want you to know that none of it matters, not to me. I look at you, and I don’t see the man the media tried to paint you to be. I see someone sweet, who makes me laugh– someone I really want to get to know better. I just want you to know all that.”

Bucky’s eyes were wide as saucers as he took in your words. You were almost afraid you’d said something wrong, after he hadn’t spoken for nearly a full minute, but finally, he squeezed your hand. “Thank you,” he said, voice choked. “You… you don’t know what that means to me. I can’t tell you what that means to me– I don’t have the words. I just… thank you.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[the-laughing-lunatic]

Scout x reader who's never been to a baseball game before (ROMANTIC)

(I was bored and wrote this, I actually have been to multiple baseball games before but my ass still doesn't know anything about it. Reader's gender neutral as always. Trying to get better at writing oneshots so have this ig :/ Word count: ~1400)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

It was strangely calm that day, it was one of the occasional days off that the mercs had. You sat on your bed, reading through some random magazine you’d picked up here or there when your boyfriend Scout barged in. “Hey doll!”

You continued flicking through the pages of the magazine, not flinching. You’d gotten used to this after a year of knowing him and two months of dating him. The door might as well not have existed at this point. “Yes?”

“Wanna go to the game today? With me?” he said, flashing you two tickets in his hand.

“What kinda game?” You looked up.

“Only the best game to be created,” he said with a smirk. “Baseball.”

You shrugged. “Sure, I don’t have anything else to do—” you barely got out before you were tackled with a hug by Scout, your magazine falling somewhere on the bed as you were wrapped up in his arms. “Jesus, you’re that excited, huh?”

He only chuckled and kissed your cheek. “Hell yeah I am! I get to have my two favorite things, baseball and you, dollface.” 

You roll your eyes and give him a kiss on the cheek back, relaxing into his arms for a moment as you soak up his warmth. “...wait, am I below baseball?”

“Uhh…”

ੈ♡˳

“Bye Engie! Thanks for the ride!” Scout yelled out as Engineer drove away in his pickup truck, leaving the two of you to the sea of people waiting to get in despite the insufferable heat. 

“Geez, are there normally this many people at these things?” you said as you held onto Scout’s hand to not lose him as you walked to the back of the line for the ticket booth.

“What, ya never been to a baseball game before?” he said with a laugh. It was a rhetorical question from his perspective, but not for you. 

“No.” Scout’s jaw dropped. 

“W- whaddya mean you’ve never been to a baseball game before, w- why? How?” In his mind, baseball was the most amazing game in the world, and it was simply a crime that the most amazing person in the world had never seen it.

You shrugged. “Just never did.” Scout was full of feelings about this. On one hand, you were his dollface and it hurt that you had been deprived of one of the greatest pleasures life could offer. On the other hand, he got to be the guy to introduce you to your first baseball game, which had the same significance as a first kiss. In his mind at least.

“D’ya at least know the game? Like, how it works?”

You thought for a moment before saying: “Um, you hit balls and run a lot?”

Hoo boy. Scout sighed. “I mean- you ain’t wrong but ya ain’t right. Listen doll, so there’s nine guys on each team, right? And one of the guys is the pitcher for the inning. The pitcher, he’s the fella who . . .”

ੈ♡˳

“. . . and then the outfielders, once you have those fellas you can get somethin’ called a line drive where it hits right to ‘em without touchin’ the ground–”  

It had twenty non-stop minutes of Scout explaining the entire concept of baseball to you, and if you heard another way a ball can be thrown you were gonna snap. You took his face in your hands and kissed him before another move could be explained. 

His ears flushed red and he froze for a moment after you pulled away. “Uh, what was that all about, doll?”

“I love you but if I hear another word about baseball I’m gonna lose it. Can I just watch the game with you and enjoy it that way?” you ask. 

“Fine, fine—” he cuts himself off as the two of you are both hit with the realization. You said I love you. Shit, shit, shit shit shitshitshit!

Before you can stammer out a sorry or any other form of explanation, the woman in the ticket booth says “Next!” and you’re left to panic while Scout gives her the tickets.

We’ve only been dating for a few months, is that weird to say? It must be, he didn’t say it back. Maybe he didn’t hear me? No, he definitely heard me. Oh god, I fucked this up bad, fuck—

“Hey dollface, she said we can go in, c’mon,” he said with a smile, squeezing your hand and leading you into the stadium. You two found a spot in the bleachers, luckily under the shade of an awning. You nervously bounced your leg as you prepared for the game to begin.

He’s not treating me any differently, maybe he’s just gonna ignore that I said that. Please, god just ignore it. 

“Geez, real anxious to see the game, huh doll?” he said to you with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah.” Maybe this would all be okay, another normal date. Just ignore that gross feeling in your gut and it’ll be fine.

ੈ♡˳

It was not all fine. Everytime the word ‘love’ came out of Scout’s mouth you couldn’t help but feel a growing annoyance. And he said it a lot.

“Man, I love that guy!”

“ —fuckin’ love this hot dog—”

“Love the view, right doll?”

It’s like he was rubbing it in. The gross feeling, the loud noise and the tight packed crowd all teamed up to give you a headache. Great. You distracted yourself from the feeling by leaning into him and eating your popcorn, desperately trying to understand the game in front of you. Maybe you should have listened a little more to your boyfriend’s explanation. “You cold dollface?

“Nah, just tired and have a little headache, ‘m fine,” you said as you popped another piece of popcorn in your mouth.

He wrapped his arm around you so you could have more support. “We, uh, don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, y’know. It’s the bottom of the fifth if you wanna get out of here.”

“No, no, it‘s fine, gotta stay for my first baseball game. Besides, isn’t that rude to just leave?”

“Naw, it’s fine. ‘S pretty normal not to stay the whole nine innings for your first game. ‘Sides, I don’t want you to feel like shit. We could go to a game some other time, how’s that sound?”

You smiled softly. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good, now c’mon,” he said as he picked you up in his arms to carry you out of the stadium.

“Jeremy, my head is the thing that hurts, not my legs. I can still walk, you doofus,” you laughed. He kissed your forehead. 

“Whatever you say, sweetcake, but I’m still carryin’ ya.”

ੈ♡˳

It was dark out, and Jeremy had just finished calling Engineer on the pay phone while you sat on a nearby bench: Scout’s jacket draped over you. Only a few people milled about, leaving to their cars underneath the street lamps.

Jeremy sat down next to you, reaching to hold your hand. “Engie’s gonna be here in ‘bout ten minutes...you alright doll?”

You delicately took it. “I dunno…”

“Did anything happen?”

“I mean, kinda? It’s stupid though, dunno why I’m getting so focused on it.”

“Can you tell me?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the concrete. “Well, I don’t know if you actually heard me, but earlier I accidentally said that I love you. I- I mean, not accidentally, I do, but it just, y’know, slipped out.”

“I heard you doll,” Scout said, tilting your face up to look at him.

“Then why didn’t you say anything? I mean, I get if you don’t love me yet, I’m not gonna blame you, but just say something.”

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know if you were bein’ serious, doll,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Y’know, you’re amazing and sweet, and almost every time I’ve liked someone this fantastic they’re just with me for laughs.”

“Jeremy…we’ve been dating for two months, did you really think that I don’t care about you?”

“Well I mean, two months right. I kinda thought you would’ve already said ‘I love you’ by now, so just- I dunno. . . do you actually love me?”

“Of course I do, Jeremy, I just was nervous because I thought I said it too early,” you said, leaning closer to him, looking at how his face caught the light of the street lamp.

“I love you too,” Scout said with a dorky smile before pulling you close and kissing you. You probably would’ve kissed for much longer but the sound of a truck horn interrupted you. 

“Hey lovebirds, get in!” Engineer shouted from the truck.

Scout pulled away and blushed before getting in with you, holding your hand tight the whole time. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[koalaflower]

Effleurer

pair. choso kamo x reader

genre. angst, fluff, smut in that order

warnings. explicit, cunnilingus, squirting, body worship, praise, no penetration, choso is a service dom

synopsis. choso broke up with you in order to protect you. he just didn’t realize how much he’d regret it

a/n. mostly fluff to atone for the mass sins i’m about to commit in the next post :)

word count. 2.4k

Someone is knocking at your door. There are tissues littered around you, teetering over the edge when you sit up, the bed dipping beneath your weight. You rub your eyes groggily, barely open from the irritation of last night and the nights before.

Sunlight pours in through a slip in the blinds, casting a shadow over your wrinkled sheets. Another morning you’ve missed; another pounding headache.

You wonder who would visit you so early in the morning and without warning. You wish you could tune them out and return to your sweet slumber, but they don’t seem to leave.

Static envelops your vision when you stand, taking slow steps as you lug yourself to the front door. Even breathing hurt with such a heavy heart.

You twist the door open and a familiar figure paralyzes you, your throat drying in an instant. It’s Choso, his clothes stained with a deep rouge seeping from his skin. He looks weak, chest heaving as he stares back at you, longing.

Your mind spirals, wondering if this is a hallucination, a cruel trick of the light, but there is no sunlight in your apartment complex. Your breathing is rapid, and you take a step back, almost slamming the door shut on him when his hand stops you.

His jaded eyes attempt to find you under the dark eye bags and pale face, a reflection of himself. A silence consumes you, picking away at your skin as the seconds stretch on for an eternity.

“Y/n,” he says, and a wave of agony washes over you, threatening to knock you off your feet. The way he calls your name brims with tenderness, like a belligerent man holding a delicate doll. You want to crash into his arms like you always have; no words, just comforting touches.

His name lingers on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to say it, afraid he might disappear if you do.

“Can I come in?” he asks, half-expecting you to say no. You come close but realize he has already witnessed your vulnerability, and there is no escaping a man consumed by darkness. You nod, too shaken to reject him as your body steps aside and invites him in.

Choso looks around, tracing the familiarities of your apartment with his eyes; a place he’s visited countless times in his memories. He can still picture himself holding you, listening to your qualms about the future with his fingers running through your hair.

Your welcoming and kind self is hidden by a colder exterior, and seeing you deprived of yourself breaks him, making his stomach tighten in sorrow.

He inches towards you again, unsure of where he stands or if he can reach out and brush his fingers against your skin. Not after the pain he’s caused you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the words tumbling from his lips, rushed. It sounds insincere and pathetic, the lines he rehearsed for weeks jumbling together on his tongue. “I’m so sorry.”

You look up at him with reddened eyes, your lips quivering. He ignores the rational part that tells him you’re better off alone and pulls you close, wrapping you into a warm embrace. He holds you tight, afraid you’ll slip away again, your head burrowing into his chest as you faintly cry.

He lifts your chin tentatively to look into your eyes, puffy from god knows how many hours of crying, and feels himself shatter. He should have been there for you, should’ve held you at your lowest. His thumb runs along your under-eye, brushing the tears away as your head leans into his touch.

You still look beautiful, the darkness in your apartment contrasting with the light fluttering in through the windows. He’s danced with you here, in the living room, laughing and kissing your hand. Time doesn’t age you; his heart still flutters when you look at him, past remnants of being a love-struck teenage boy.

“I hate you,” you whisper, fingers clutching onto his shirt, crinkling the tear-stained fabric. He gives you a sad smile, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“I know.”

He doesn’t know where to begin or how to begin. His head is throbbing, and the blood on the sides of his head and forearms is beginning to dry. You notice him wince when your fingers brief his arm, briskly sitting him down on the couch.

He doesn’t expect forgiveness, doesn’t even expect you to speak. He just wants you: your kindness, your soul. His eyes close as he inhales your scent, relaxing into the couch. He could die a thousand times and a hundred more if it meant saving you, but an afterlife without you is no life at all.

When you return with a first aid kit, he can feel his eyes sting, a foreign sensation in all 150 years of his lifetime. He’s always been protective as the eldest brother, but for you? You’re irreplaceable, a godsend and divine threshold, tainted by his bloodied fingers.

No one needed another Choso Kamo, but you, you could live a meaningful life in the ways he could never.

He startles when you dab the alcohol on his wounds with significant pressure, searing pain making him yelp when he sees you smile a little. He guesses he deserved that, his heart fluttering a little.

You wrap up his arms and place a patch on his head, hand deliberately lingering on his cheek before pulling away. he tried to chase after the warmth, needing your touch engrained into his skin. you’re about to stand when he pulls you back down.

“Can we talk? Please,” he says desperately.

You exhale slowly, turning your body to face him, the notion weirdly intimate. You haven’t seen him in months, haven’t felt loved since he left you broken in your own home.

He takes your silence as confirmation, recollecting himself before he says, “I regret leaving you.”

The words sting, but you can hear the sincerity pouring from his lips. It isn’t venomous, just a harsh truth, one he failed to tell you the night he left.

“I was trying to push you away,” he continues, fidgeting with his fingers as he bares his heart to you, the only person capable of bearing it. “You’ve never wasted my time. I wanted to hurt you, to protect you. From me and from my job.”

You knew this. You knew your relationship wasn’t one-sided because you knew he loved you. It made your heart ache more because you knew, and because he didn’t think you could handle the truth.

“But yesterday there was a mission, and I almost died and… I wanted to, but I could only imagine you. I only wanted to see you.”

“I’m sorry. I know I have no right to be, but I can’t think of anything other than—” You grab his shoulders and pull him into you, your lips meeting in a frenzy. You feel him groan against your mouth, tangling his fingers deeper into your hair as he tilts your head for easier access.

The kiss is passionate, gentle, intimate; a million stars bursting in his lungs as he breathes you in, his heart filled with stardust.

“I hate you. I hate you so much,” you say between kisses, holding his head firmly between your hands. “Do you think I care for your protection? Do you think you’re the only one allowed to be self-righteous?”

Your words confuse him, lips parting in awe as you continue to tell him off.

“I just want to be next to you. I’m not as strong or perceptive as you, but I want to love you. You can’t decide that for me.”

He can’t breathe, chest constricting as your words absorb into him. He’s so grateful to have you, leaning his forehead against yours and smiling.

“I love you,” he says, the words flowing from him effortlessly, a phrase he didn’t have to rehearse with you.

“Then show me,” you reply, smirking as you straddle him, the months of pent-up frustration building between your legs. His eyes widen, but only for a moment before he pulls you in again and kisses you with fervor. Months of dreaming about you, fantasizing about your skin pressed against his, wondering if his thoughts would remain thoughts. He kisses you like never before, desire in every action as his teeth graze your lips. The reality is better than anything he could imagine.

You part them for him, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth. Your moans are muffled by his lips, icy hands trailing up and down your body.

You shift your weight on his lap, feeling his bulge from beneath his pants. Your hand ghosts over it, stopping when his fingers are around your wrists, holding them behind your back.

“You told me to show you. Let me show you,” he whispers into your ear, seductive as his teeth nibble your collarbone, trailing up to the flesh on your neck. You shudder, arousal dripping as you close your eyes and let the sensations guide you. His lips are everywhere, your skin igniting with sparks of fire as he leaves behind burning kisses.

When you shift again, he groans, his pants getting tight as he picks you up gently and carries you into the bedroom. He notices the tissues, his heart shattering again as you sheepishly avoid his eyes. He places you gently on the bed, removing the used tissues from the sheets.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, kissing your forehead. He apologizes over and over, kissing different parts of your body until he’s showered you with them. And even then, it isn’t enough.

“It’s okay,” you say between quiet breaths. “Just don’t leave again.”

He nods, intertwining his pinky with yours and planting a last kiss on the back of your hand. “I promise.”

His fingers begin to tug at your shirt, your hands above your head to aid him. You wriggle out of your shorts, leaving only your underwear. He sighs at the sight of you, taking in your body and your chest before kneeling before you next to the bed.

His hands cup your breasts, teasing the buds with his thumbs as he watches your reaction, enthralled. He’s blinded by your beauty, your figure, your voice. He wonders what he thought all those months before when he closed the door behind him, vowing to never see you again.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, fascinated as he continues to tease you without meaning to, making you writhe beneath his fingertips. He traces over your mounds and lower down your belly, hovering right above the hem of your panties.

There’s a wet patch on your underwear, growing increasingly soaked. You move your hips to open your legs wider, wanting him to touch you, make love to you, devour you.

He pulls your panties off, pressing his fingers against the fabric to feel your slick. Your cheeks are growing red, your core dripping and glistening with every passing moment.

His attention returns to your heat, spreading your folds open to ingrain the image into his mind. You gasp, never seeing him behave like this; so enchanted and aroused.

“I want you,” he says suddenly, breaking the tension with his deep voice. “Every part of you.”

His mouth is on your pussy, tongue flattening and sliding along your lips as you throw your head back. He rubs your clit with his thumb; the only objective on his mind is to make you cum, make you scream. He ignores his own desires and thoughts to pump you full of his seed. The only thing that matters tonight is you, so sweet and angelic for him.

“Cho—so,” you moan, arching your back when your hips buck to meet his tongue. He groans, sending vibrations through you. Your sounds are so lewd, so perfect for him. He needs more.

He pushes your legs farther apart, sucking harder and increasing pressure on your clit. Your legs tremble, fingers splayed in his hair, and it only spurs him on more.

You tug him closer as you ride his face, feeling your climax near. He’s relentless, eating you out like you’re a delicacy, lapping at all the juices dribbling down your legs.

“You taste amazing,” he groans, adding a finger with his other hand, your eyes flying open as you see stars enter your vision. Another digit and you could enter a coma with the way your eyes roll, body spasming.

You scream, tightening your hold on his hair when you orgasm, squirting all over his face. He’s astonished, movements halting as he tries to process what you just did. You’re panting, looking down at him with a panicked expression.

“Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry,” you blurt, half-recovering from your blissful state to see his face wet, covered in your essence. You’re about to apologize again when you see the wet spot on his pants, making you smirk.

“Did you cum from eating me out?” you ask, snide as you watch him wipe the slick from his mouth, breathing heavily. His face is glistening, covered in both sweat and your slick.

He nods, lowering his voice in shame. “That was hot.”

You let out a short laugh, watching him retreat to the bathroom and return with a small towel to clean you up. His hand moves tenderly, patting your skin and inner thighs dry, still worshipping you breathlessly. His touches linger, a feeling you will never get used to as he relishes in your proximity.

You both change into more comfortable clothes, throwing the last batch into the washing machine as he falls back into a rhythm with you. He scoops you up into his arms, laying you down on the bed with his arm beneath your neck as he pulls you snugly into his chest.

“I love you so much,” he says, nuzzling his chin into the top of your head. Your heart is full, overflowing with love as your fingers clutch his shirt, the scene surreal.

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice wavering as tears pool in your eyes. The sheets rustle as he pulls back, looking at you with a soft expression. He plants a kiss on your forehead, stroking your cheek.

It’s silent as he listens to you sniffle, breaths uneven and eyes closed. He traces circles on your back in a soothing motion, whispering a last promise before you drift into a deep slumber.

“I’m not going anywhere this time.”

[slippinmickeys]

A prompt, formally. Shepherdstown WV.

Mulder pulled the car into the gravel lot and cut the engine. In front of them was a long wood building, painted a light blue. Over the entrance was an olde-tymey sign that said “O’Hurley’s General Store,” and on every conceivable surface on the rest of the building, it listed its wares: Glassware, Hardware, Furniture, Yard Goods. Hats, Music, Dolls. Housewares, Toys. Guns, Knives, Tools.

Scully threw him a skeptical look. “Did you…forget to pack something?” she asked.

Mulder put his seat back and settled in. “No,” he said. “We’re here on surveillance.”

Scully balked. “Surveillance?”

Mulder nodded. “I think our suspect shops here.”

“I wasn’t aware we had a suspect.”

Mulder turned to her. “We talked about this. The witch.”

“You’re right, Mulder, we did talk about this.” Scully could hear the whining in her own voice and did her best to level it. “Just because there was a pentagram found near the body doesn’t mean it was a ritual sacrifice. I explained this to the Sheriff as well.”

“It wasn’t just the pentagram, Scully. There was salt on the scene. Incense. All items used in ritual consecration practices.”

“t was the kitchen of a college student, Mulder. Salt and incense are pretty much par for the course.”

“Your autopsy showed he was killed with a sharp knife, ‘likely with a curved blade,’” he invoked a line directly from her report.

“…and that means witch?”

Mulder smiled at her. “The boline is a white-handled, curved, ritual knife, used mainly for the cutting of herbs and inscribing candles.”

Scully leaned back begrudgingly in her own seat. He wasn’t going to let this go.

“Fine. Our suspect is a witch. Why would he or she be shopping here?”

Mulder reached in his pocket and pulled out a folded up flier for the store they were parked in front of. Scully pursued the list.

“Cast iron,” she read off. “Enamelware. Dinner bells.”

Mulder nodded enthusiastically. “Candles,” he said. “Coffins. Frogs.” He pointed at the words painted on the side of the building. “Plus dolls. Dry goods. Knives.”

Scully turned to look at him.

“One stop shop for your modern day witch,” he said with a smile.

Scully looked back down at the advertisement, feeling her irritation give way to bemusement. “Who in the world drops into a general store to pick up a steam engine?” she said.

“Probably the same person who goes in for an anvil.”

She graced him with a grin.

“They sell ‘notions?’” She had to admit to being at least a little bit charmed.

Mulder bent his head to peer through the windshield at the store. “I really want to go in.”

Scully unbuckled her seatbelt. “So let’s go in.”

His eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Open your door before I change my mind.”

Mulder whipped off his own seatbelt and was out the door before Scully had a chance to button her coat.

She followed him up the gravel walkway, the stones crunching crisply under their feet. “I’ll bet you twenty bucks it smells weird in there,” she said.

“There’s no way I take that bet,” he replied, smiling. He trotted up the steps and held open the door for her and she shuffled in and turned to him, tapping her nose. His smile grew wider.

Scully then paused, five steps in, taken aback by the sight before her.

“Jesus,” she said. “I’ve never seen so much crap in one place.”

”Isn’t it great?” Mulder beamed.

A saleswoman appeared from behind a behemoth stack of crockery.

“Can I help you find anything?” she asked.

Mulder looked poised to say something she would probably wish he wouldn’t, so she decided to carry the mantle herself.

“Any chance you have a cauldron?” Scully asked.

“Absolutely!” The woman said brightly.

“How about a besome? A censer? An Athame?”

The saleswoman smiled. “Right this way,” she said, turning to make her way around several large barrels filled with wax-wrapped salt water taffy.

When Scully turned to see if Mulder was following her, she found him glued to the spot, his mouth agape.

“Scully?”

“Yeah?” she asked, more than a little pleased with herself.

“If they sell engagement rings, I’m buying you one.”

[akinghead-akingwrld]

Where is your boy tonight?

“Where is your boy tonight? I hope he is a gentleman.” - Fall Out Boy

Fukunaga x reader, gn! reader

While you’re waiting for your boyfriend at the entrance of the hotel prom is at, Fukunaga notices you.

word count: 500

It was prom night, and you’d gotten yourself all dolled up for it. This year’s prom was being held at a fancy hotel. The school had supposedly paid a fortune just to have it rented for the night.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, admiring how beautiful you looked in the reflection. Your boyfriend, whom was supposed to pick you up, texted you while you were taking pictures of yourself.

The text read: Hey babe, I can’t make it to your place. I’ll meet you there.

Oh, whatever. It’s fine, right?

The time you were supposed to leave comes around, and, Instead of riding in the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s, you grab your car keys and head out the door. Purse in the passenger seat, you start driving away.

Upon arriving at the hotel, you find yourself awed by how tall the building is. Impatient to see what the inside looks like, you jump out of your car and start looking for your boyfriend. He likely wasn’t waiting for you in the parking lot, so you decided to go outside by the entrance. No signs of your boyfriend. Hoping to find him somewhere inside, you go past security and finally inside the actual ballroom. Still, he’s nowhere to be found. You send him a text saying you’ll be waiting for him by the entrance of the ballroom. Delivered. He’ll read it at some point.

After a few minutes of looking stupid and waiting for him, you start losing hope. Then a boy, who you hoped was your boyfriend, started approaching you. As he got closer you noticed it was just some boy in your Chemistry class.

“Fukunaga?” You squinted your eyes.

“Yes, ma’am.” He responded in that silly voice of his. He moved his eyes back and forth as if scanning the area for something. “Where is your boyfriend?”

“Huh?” You nearly burst into tears at the mention of him.

“Well I assumed you’d be with your boyfriend at prom, no?”

“I think he stood me up.”

“Probably, you’ve been waiting here for a while.” He looked around the room for your boyfriend, like you had been doing for the past however many minutes. “Sorry.”

You shrugged your shoulders as to say ‘whatever’, but the tears forming in your eyes said otherwise.

“Oh, there he is.” Fukunaga pointed his finger at a guy that looked completely out of it.

“What a gentleman.” You saw the look on his face. His excuses were something you couldn’t bear to hear at that moment.

“I could ‘spill’ my punch on him if you’d like.” Fukunaga suggested, taking a sip out of said drink.

A single nod was all it took for Fukunaga to throw his drink all over your boyfriend. He threw the plastic cup at him as well, while he was at it.

Before you could even register what had happened, Fukunaga grabbed your hand and dragged you along the crowd of people.

“He’s gonna kick my ass, run, run!!!”

a/n: i’m just writing stuff based off specific lines and lyrics of (prob fob) songs

[akatsukinolola]

𝗣𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗦 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧┊𝗦. 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗧𝗢𝗡

ఌ︎ p. Steve Harrington x f!reader // g. fluff

ఌ︎. cw. established relationship, original character, kissing, Steve being great with kids, talks about wanting kids, talks of marriage, no use of y/n— let me know if i missed any!

ఌ︎. wc. 1.4k

𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

Your baby sister, Madilyn, is the textbook definition of an angel. Of course she has her moments, she’s a kid, but for the most part, she’s the best tiny human ever. Which is why you had no problems looking after her while your parents were on their anniversary trip for the weekend.

The two of you were on the sofa watching Race For Your Life, Charlie Brown while dinner was finishing on the stove. Ending the day with dumb cartoons and your favorite human was a win in your book.

Suddenly, the phone rang drawing your attention away from the television. A part of you wanted to ignore it, but if it was your parents and they had to call again, you’d get a never ending earful. Approaching the blush pink landline on the wall you answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Babydoll,” your boyfriend’s smooth voice sounded over the receiver. You leaned against the wall, a smile playing on your lips.

“Hi, Stevie,” your voice sounded breather than anticipated. Even after almost two years together, Steve Harrington still makes you feel like a girl with an elementary school crush.

Introducing Steve, Hawkins’ resident rich boy, to your family was nerve-wracking. The day he picked you up for your first date, you opened the door with a then two-year-old Madilyn on your hip. She shied away and hid half of her face in your neck. After greeting you with a kiss on the cheek he turned to the girl in your arms, “Is this little Madilyn that likes Care Bears?” he asked excitedly and the rest is history.

Your baby sister successfully stole your boyfriend.

But there are no hard feelings because watching the two of them interact with each other is a beautiful sight. Steve’s patience and ability to keep up with the toddler’s often nonsensical rambles, make you firmly believe that he would make a great father; hopefully to your own kids someday.

“How’s babysitting going?”

“It’s been good, you know Maddie’s a good kid,” you shrugged watching the little girl curled up on the couch with her stuffed bunny.

“Mm,” he hummed as he exhaled, “You two want company? Or is it strictly sister bonding time?”

“Hm, I think the kid and I can go for a night with our favorite guy,” your smile widened as you twirled the coiled line around your finger.

“Well in that case, I’ll see you in 10.”

“Steve…you live twenty minutes away,” you said skeptically.

“Like I said, 10 minutes— I love you,” you could practically hear the smile on his face.

“I love you too and please drive safely,” sincerity coating your words. With a promise to see each other soon, you hang up and join your sister on the couch.

Maddie shifted over to curl into your side. You looked down at the girl and squished her closer. Becoming a big sister is easily one of the best things to happen to you. Sure fourteen year old you was skeptical and a little jealous about your first sibling, but as soon as you held the newborn in your arms for the first time, you knew you would do anything for her.

A loud knock on the door had you both alert and looking toward the front hallway. Upon opening the door, you were met with a very sexy looking Steve Harrington. His sunglasses were perched on his nose and the yellow Polo shirt was unbuttoned showcasing his chest hair. He smiled cockily and removed his sunglasses, “you can eye fuck me inside, doll,” he pushed past you and into the house. Closing and locking the door for you, Steve wound his arm around your waist and pulled you into a deep kiss.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled before pressing another short kiss to his lips. Taking him by the hand, you walked back into the living room. “Maddie, look who’s here!” you caught the girl’s attention. Propping herself up on the back of the sofa, she smiled widely and waved her hand so fast, it was just a blur.

“Hi, Steve!” she said excitedly. She held out her arms, her bunny long forgotten, and Steve scooped her up and gave her a big hug.

“Hi Mads, how was your day?” he asked. That led to her talking a mile a minute, not leaving a single detail out about her day.

The timer starts to ring and you walk over to the stove to turn off the burner. You stirred the hot pot of jambalaya, the smell making your mouth water.

You poked your head back into the living room, “You two. Table. Now please,” you hollered over their conversation. Their voices carried into the dining room and Steve helped Maddie into her booster seat. You sat her plate and a cup of watered down apple juice in front of her. Bringing in yours and Steve's plates, you all sat down together and continued to chat over your meal. Every so often either you or Steve had to remind her to finish chewing before talking.

After finishing up dinner, you took Maddie up for a bath and wrapped her hair up for the night. She still had about an hour left before her bedtime so you brought her back down to finish her movie.

When you got back to the kitchen, Steve was putting away the clean and dried dishes. After putting the last of them away you took ahold of his hands and pulled him into you.

“You didn’t have to clean up, I could’ve done it.”

“You were already getting Mads ready for bed, It’s the least I could do,” he shrugged. You smiled, guiding him back to the living room where you were gonna watch the rest of the movie until you saw Maddie knocked out on the couch, soft snores escaping from her. Letting go of your hand, Steve picked the sleeping girl up while you turned off the tv and all the lights then you two walked her up the stairs. You pulled back the sheets and Steve laid her down. You tucked her in with her bunny, leaving a kiss on her forehead.

Retreating from her room as quietly as possible, you two made it back to your room and began getting yourselves ready for bed. Slipping underneath the cool sheets, you and Steve settled in together. “Thank you for coming over, I really do appreciate it,” you smiled, giving him a kiss on the back of his hand.

“Of course,” he returned the kiss to one of your hands, “I need the practice anyway.”

“Practice for…?” you asked. Steve pulled you into his chest, his hand lightly gripping your hip.

“The six kids I dreamt of running around our house. You in a pretty little dress baking fucking cinnamon rolls with our girls while the boys wrestle in the living room.”

“What if the boys wanna bake and the girls wanna wrestle?” you smirked, hooking your leg over his hip.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as our kids,” he took your hand and kissed your bare ring finger, “and my wife are happy and healthy.”

You felt the heat building in your face as a smile played on your lips. “Mm, being acknowledged as ‘Mrs. Harrington’ does sound pretty great.”

“Hell yeah it does, sweetheart,” he kissed you deeply. A knock on the door forced you to break the kiss off sooner than you would’ve liked. The door opened and Maddie poked her head into the room.

“You okay Mads?” you sat up.

“Can I sleep in here?” she rubbed her eye, still sleepy.

“Of course, baby girl,” you pulled the sheets back so she could crawl in between the two of you. Getting her settled, she quickly fell back asleep, stuffed bunny tucked in her arms. You adjusted her bonnet and slightly adjusted the comforter, knowing she hates having her face covered. When you finally looked back at Steve his eyes were already on you.

“I love you,” he mouthed so as not to wake the sleeping child between the two of you.

“I love you too,” you replied.

Soon all of your breaths evened out and you all slept through the night. Even with a four year old beating you up in her sleep.

[witchhaven]

Tea Party

I've been pleased to observe a number of times when the dolls have all walked out into my back yard to work together on taking care of the overgrowth that's taken the area slowly. They've trimmed back a lot of the foliage encroaching on the space, installing a number of arches, and meticulously manicuring the floral arrays, creating a comforting circular alcove perfect for hosting small picnics. Today, it seems the dolls are finally in a position to arrange a tea party around the round table in the center.

I observe Heart, as it carefully picks dishes out of my cupboards, making sure to only select the matching cups, saucers, teapot, sugar dish, and creamer. It carefully washes them and dries them, before placing the majority of them onto a silver tray to be taken outside. Apple carefully cleans the surface of the table, making sure it's free of the dust and residue built up from it spending time outside, subject to the elements. As Heart meets Apple, they smile at each other, as Heart places the tray gently on the now clean surface.

“You picked out some pretty cute dishes for these, Heart!” Apple proceeds to return inside with the other doll.

Heart smiles with a blush, “It tried its best, Apple! This doll is really happy you like its pick!”

I know that Apple would've said this regardless of the choice of dishes, and watch the two dolls happily meander back inside, waiting in the main hall for the rest of them. Meanwhile, Soul picks up the chairs set inside next to the back door, picking them up effortlessly and carrying them to the table. Five chairs are sat around the table, one for each doll, save for Cream and Sugar, who have insisted on sharing a single seat. As Soul arranges the chairs, it smiles, watching Thread gingerly arrange the teacups and saucers in accordance to the positioning of the chairs.

“Thank you for your efforts, Thread.” It helps Thread descend from the fifth chair which its found itself standing in to properly reach the place-mat.

Thread accepts the help from Soul as it's lowered to the ground slowly by Soul's strong but gentle hands, “Thank you for doing it with me, Soul!”

Cream and Sugar get a job quite in line with their namesakes: making the tea. I find it quite puzzling that they decided to make tea specifically, when I can prepare them some at any time, but I still watch the movement of their hands together as one of them carefully attends the boiling of water in the stove-top kettle, and the other meticulously selects a blend of dried tea leaves, crushing them together and funneling them into an infuser. The mesh orb is suspended in the teapot before the boiling water is carefully poured inside. The two meet everyone else in my main hall, and they all proceed out to the carefully prepared picnic area, where the teapot is eventually set.

I'm so proud of the dolls for coming together to set this up. They've been rather efficient at preparing the party, and I believe they've earned this comfort thoroughly. I notice that my back door has been left conspicuously open, but I assume that the dolls have done this intentionally, and leave it that way. The party seems to be going well as the sweet sound of happy dolls conversing makes its way to my perception. The gentle clinking of teacups against saucers punctuating the starts of new additions of conversation, or even playful giggles as the dolls appreciate the humor of situations explored.

Before long, I begin to feel a sprinkle of rain fall from the overcast sky. This is followed by another, and another, until eventually, the rain starts to pour on the gathering which the dolls have set up for themselves. They frantically gather the teacups, saucers, and all the other dishes. The teapot is snatched as they all hurriedly rush inside.

Sugar sees how the teapot has been held on the way inside, the realization dawning on it that the tea itself has been fully spilled, “Soul, the tea!” “It's gone...” Soul looks inside the teapot as if it could've salvaged the situation by reorienting it.

Apple sighs, “What will we do now?”

Suddenly, the dolls hear the whistling of a kettle from the kitchen, as I have more tea ready for them, as always. They all wander inside and find that the aroma spread off of the kettle is quite similar to that of the tea made by Cream and Sugar. I did, after all, study Sugar's tea blend decisions carefully. They must've forgotten that I can contribute as well. Happily, they drink my tea, and find themselves comforted at the realization that I intentionally used the same recipe. Perhaps, this was simply just the best way to salvage their party.

The festivities of the impromptu gathering continue on, but eventually, the dolls begin to take turns tiring out for the evening. The first seem to be Heart and Apple, who approach their now unified room. They seem to leave their door open when they're not inside, which also seems to have backfired this time, as a small animal must've slipped inside during the tea party. Flower petals are scattered between Heart's nightstand and the door to the room, leading up to a discarded large ring made of woven heavy wire, with now tattered flowers hanging out of it.

“Oh, n-no!” Heart picks up the damaged flower crown.

Apple looks with sympathy, “That's the one I made for you, isn't it?”

“It is...” It holds the sentimental accessory close with tears in its eyes.

Apple puts its arms around Heart, “Hey, don't cry! There's no need! I'm right here, alright?”

“But, the special flower crown you made this one...” It sniffles as it leans into Apple.

It pulls away some to look into Heart's eyes, “We could always make another, but you know why that means what it does to you, right?”

“It's because you made it for this doll when we...” The realization strikes Heart as its breathing stabilizes.

Apple nods, “The flower crown isn't what's important, Heart, it's us!”

Heart smiles at Apple as it enjoys its warmth from the two of them touching this closely. The tears are wiped away by its partner as they both lean in close. They share in a kiss, which to Heart now holds immensely more meaning than the flower crown ever could, as sad as its destruction may be...

This is part of an ongoing series called The Dolls' House! if you're interested in reading the rest in sequential order, click here to read the first chapter!

[schlattsdoll]

omfg imagine lingerie shopping with soft dom schlatt , like him fucking you in the dressing room while praising you , like he just can't control himself around his princess

its giving sugar daddy vibes

minors dni

he'd been busy lately, too busy to spend proper time and attention to you. "lemme make it up to you doll, anything you want. my treat." you made damn sure he'd eat those words. schlatt loved to spoil you, it was his way of showing how much he cared. he opened your door to let you out of his car and held your hand as you two walked towards he mall.

you did some normal shopping before landing at the large lingerie store. "last stop daddy i swear." you smirked at the larger man. schlatt was excited to go into this store with you, never having actually gone with you before. frilly underwear, lace bodysuits and negliges lined the walls of the establishment. "pick what you think i'd like." you kiss his cheek before going to grab the bodysuit you had your eye on. it was red with straps across the top of your breasts, covered in little diamante pieces. you grabbed a few other bras and nighties before seeing what your boyfriend/sugar daddy grabbed for you. he landed on a maroon number that the bodysuit part was made of fishnet and the boning was outlined in black lace. he also grabbed a kelly green velvet babydoll dress with white maribou trim. "perfect. lemme try these on." "i'm coming with you."

he closed the door behind him and locked it and watched you try on each piece and model for him. with each set, he fights the urge to pin you against the mirror and take you right there. "fuckin hell toots, ya look so good." he says when you try on one of the things he picked for you. you notice his growing tent in his shorts and smirk. you decide to let your hair down and he's all but drooling at you. "c'mon nd get dressed, we're buying them all so i can rip this off you later."

he bought two of that bodysuit just so you'd still have it.

[detachedminxsfics]

Memories

Masterlist

Characters: Comedian (Edward Blake) x Ex Vigilante F!Reader

Summary: After retiring from being a vigilante in '77 you lost touch with most of your old teammates, until you happen to bump into one of them eight years later, the Comedian.

Word count: 3.9K

Warnings: NSFW - Age gap (reader in their early 30s, eddie mid 60s), period-typical sexism, brief dry humping, vaginal sex, praise, eddie's filthy mouth

A/N: I never write any sort of 'soft' version of the Comedian as it's out of character, but for old Eddie specifically he got a lot more lonely and regretful as he aged, which we saw especially in scenes like his talk with Moloch. So this is some sweet smut with some angst & fluff at the end.

It was pouring with rain, the streets of Manhattan slick and reflecting the light from the street lights that lined the sidewalk, the puddles that occasionally littered the ground rippling with every drop of rain that crashed against its surface. You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to warm yourself up, your clothes damp and clinging to your skin besides the leather trenchcoat you'd thrown on in a hurry, and stepped out from the momentary shelter you'd found from the rain in the form of a small ledge overhanging above the entrance to a store. You looked down the busy road hoping to wave down a cab when you caught sight of a man holding an umbrella heading down the sidewalk towards you, not quite registering him at first until you saw the scar extending from his brow to the side of his mouth.

"Eddie?" You called out with uncertainty.

His head lifted, his eyes searching for the source of the sound until he locked eyes with you, picking up the pace in his steps until he reached you.

"Doll?" He responded with a smile, looking you over as though he equally couldn't quite believe it was really you after all this time.

Eddie noticed the way the rain was pouring on your already drenched hair and coat and chuckled, stepping closer to you so that he could hold the umbrella to cover both of your heads.

"God, it has to have been at least-"

"8 years." Eddie interjected when you seemed to be doing the mental math of how long it had been since you last saw him, a melancholy tone to his voice with the way he was able to recall it so perfectly.

You nodded and let out a sigh that turned into a small, misty cloud in the cool air.

"Well, I was just on my way home. You could come back with me and I can get you some coffee, maybe even get you dried up while we wait for the rain to stop?" He suggested, though there was a light in his eyes as he said it like he'd be disappointed if you didn't.

"Sure, I'd love to catch up, and I never say no to coffee." You smiled, to which he held out his arm for you to take and you linked your arm with his.

The walk to Eddie's high-rise apartment building, the Promethea Building according to the signage at the entrance, was short but sweet, and he was leading you through the lobby and into the elevator before you knew it. When you got to the floor of his apartment he stepped out prompting you to follow him, the folded umbrella clutched in his hand dripping and leaving wet splotches on the floor on the way to his door. He retrieved his key from his pocket and unlocked it, pushing it open and allowing you to follow him in as he stepped inside, then closed the door behind you as you quietly observed the inside of his apartment. It was very spacious and probably cost a fortune, but you weren't surprised that Eddie could afford such a thing after doing vigilante work for over 40 years now. Although you couldn't say the same for you and any of the other crime fighters of your generation whose careers were cut so short. You were torn from your train of thought when you felt Eddie reach around from behind you to undo the belt at the waist of your leather coat, his breath fanning against the side of your face as he leaned over your shoulder to be able to see what he was doing, seemingly lingering there a little too long. He slid it down your arms once the material came apart which bunched at your wrists, and you helped him get it off from there.

"Thanks." You muttered as he took your coat and hung it up before he moved to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

"I'm gonna go change." Eddie mumbled as he turned to go down the hall, presumably towards his bedroom.

You took the time alone to begin wandering around the apartment, the view from the large glass wall overlooking the city being the first thing to catch your eye. There was a usual smog covering the dark, cloudy sky, the rain still pouring and spilling over the window whilst the streets below were somewhat busy with the occasional passerby and the many cars on the road. When you turned you were surprised to find a framed photo of you that you'd done for a magazine cover towards the start of your crime-fighting career hung on the wall. It generated just the right amount of publicity to put you on the map for good and got the papers to take an interest in reporting the criminals you'd turn in, not that any of your male counterparts had to do that, they were front page no matter what. The whistle of the kettle got louder and louder whilst you stared at the picture, a small smile on your face as you reminisced. You were part of the second generation of costumed vigilantism after those such as the Comedian and his time, the time when being a masked freak was actually a good thing. That admiration became tarnished when public outrage started to grow towards those sworn to protect them and people took to the streets in the form of riots, but you could hardly dispute the sentiment when there were those such as Eddie at the helm, the poster boy for egotistical displays of power and anarchy. You met Eddie at a meeting to join a new crime-fighting team proposed by Ozymandias, in which he not so gracefully crapped over the idea of the whole thing before taking his leave, leaving the plans that had been drawn up in flames. That should've been the first sign of trouble, but you naively followed him out and did some work as a duo afterwards, sometimes a trio with Nite Owl when he had enough patience to deal with Eddie's antics; you liked to think you balanced the whole thing out to make it tolerable enough for Daniel.

"Ya like staring at yourself, huh?" Eddie commented once the screeching of the kettle simmered down, and you turned to find him pouring the boiling water into two coffee mugs.

"Or you like staring at me." You retorted with raised brows which made him chuckle a little.

"It's a nice picture, you look good." He responded simply as he set the kettle down and picked up a small spoon to stir the coffee.

"About as nice as that hustler magazine on your coffee table, right?" You gestured to it with a tilt of your head and crossed your arms over your chest playfully.

He only let out a small laugh in the form of a snort and searched the pockets of the robe he was now wearing, a lighter and a cigar in his hand once he removed it. He propped the cigar between his lips and brought the lighter to it, igniting the end before flipping it shut and placing it back into his pocket.

"I'm an old man now, sweetheart. I can eyeball as many hustler magazines as I damn well please." He spoke around the cigar, balancing it in his mouth as he did.

Eddie picked up the coffee mugs and started bringing them towards the couch making you round the glass table to settle down on it. He placed the mugs down on the table and closed his fingers around the cigar as he lowered himself down onto the couch, blowing a stream of smoke from his lips as he did. He then reached up to grab the t-shirt he'd slung over his shoulder and held it out for you to take.

"Here, bathroom's down the hall." He muttered.

You quickly made your way to the bathroom and removed your soaked sweater, your body already much warmer when you removed it and threw on Eddie's t-shirt. He was twice your size and built like a linebacker meaning it was more of an oversized dress than a top, but you used that to your advantage and removed your now drenched pants too. When you returned he briefly dragged his eyes over your bare legs, whilst you couldn't help but notice the small smiley face pin badge he was still sporting after all these years as you sat back down beside him.

"Still wearing this, huh?" You reached out to run your thumb over the badge clipped to his robe. "Did you give it up?"

He thought for a moment before shaking his head, watching as your thumb ran over the badge before looking back into your eyes.

"I registered, I do work for 'em here and there. You?"

You lowered your hand and sighed.

"Not since '77."

In 1977 Congress passed the Keene Act outlawing vigilantism and requiring you to register with the government if you wanted to continue, but you felt as though that regulation came at a price as did many others, so you retired.

"Do you miss it?" Eddie asked as he removed the cigar from his mouth to take a sip of his coffee before setting the mug down again.

You mirrored him and reached to take a sip from your own coffee as you thought about your answer. It was a loaded question, but you ultimately settled for the latter.

"Yeah, I think so. But I'm guessing you don't get to patrol the streets anymore and screw around like we used to." You pointed out, earning a smile from him in response.

"Yeah, not so much of that anymore."

Reflecting on it had a wistful glint fill his eyes for a fleeting moment, but he moved on with the hopes of not getting too wrapped up in the nostalgia of the past.

"So, you married? Kids?" He asked as he blew another cloud of smoke which slowly started to dissipate.

Your brows bounced up and you let out a small laugh of disbelief. That kind of question seemed so out of place directed towards you of all people.

"Married? God no. That was out of the question the moment they clamped down on crime fighting. You think most men are thrilled at the idea of marrying a woman who could toss him over her shoulder like it was nothing?"

"Well, you'd have a hard time doing that to me." Eddie remarked.

"My point exactly." You retorted.

"Touché." He added with a smile.

He pushed the cigar back between his lips and casually rested his large hand just above your knee. His hand felt nice and warm on your cold skin, so you were hardly opposed to the touch.

"You still living at your old place?" Eddie continued, blowing smoke with each word.

"Yeah, never moved. Too many memories." You admitted with a small shrug having always been quite the sentimentalist.

Eddie nodded in understanding and then started to chuckle, shaking his head as your words sparked some long forgone memory in his mind.

"What?" You pried playfully, curious as to what you'd reminded him of.

"Ya remember when Dan got injured? Me and you had to haul his ass back to your apartment since your place was closest, that night was a mess." He recalled with a grin, subconsciously caressing your thigh with his rough, calloused palm as he spoke.

You laughed as it flooded back to you. The three of you had decided to traipse around the city on foot that night rather than taking the Owlship, much to Daniel's dismay. Unsurprisingly, things took a turn when the three of you came face to face with a small horde of rioters. You were able to disband them with minimal civilian harm no thanks to Eddie but not before Daniel got swarmed by a cluster of them, and you had been too busy making sure Eddie wasn't manhandling or brutalising anybody to notice.

"Yeah, I patched him up and then sent you two idiots on your way." You reminisced with an eye roll.

He didn't know it, but you hadn't wanted Eddie to leave that night.

There was some shared laughter and then a comfortable silence once it died down, the two of you just enjoying one another's company until Eddie set his cigar down in the ashtray resting on top of the magazine. He raised his hand to hold one side of your face, his thumb stroking over your cheek.

"Me and you really did have some fun, didn't we?"

You let a warm smile take over your lips and placed your hand over the back of his.

"We sure did, Eddie."

He was so much closer to you now, and you could've sworn his gaze briefly settled on your lips before looking back into your eyes, and then he leaned forward. Eddie's lips pressed against yours, his hand still caressing the side of your face and using it to deepen the kiss. Then he slipped his tongue into your mouth, the taste of cigars and the aroma of him permeating your senses, including any urge to not go against your better judgment. You wasted no time sliding onto his lap, a grunt escaping his lips as you settled down on his groin and let your hands get lost in the thick grey strands at the sides of his hair. He let go of your cheek to stroke his hands over your thighs and beneath the hem of your t-shirt, his rough fingertips brushing over your hips and moving down to cup your ass, the force in his grip earning a low moan from you. Rolling your hips slightly had his fingers dig into your skin, the groan that rumbled from his throat getting lost in the kiss and the friction you were creating only making the bulge forming beneath his robe grow that much harder. Eddie stood from the couch taking you with him, his hands still gripping your ass firmly to support you prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist, your arms wrapped around his neck and your hands running through his hair as he makes his way to the bedroom. You unwrap your legs from him when he leans down to set you on the bed, straightening his back to start undoing his robe whilst you sit up to cross your arms and gather the material at the hem of the top he had given you, pulling it over your head and tossing it on the floor by the bed. When his robe came apart you were quick to lean up on your knees and press your lips against his lower abdomen, peppering kisses all the way from his stomach to his chest. Eddie let out a pleased sound and tangled his fingers in your hair, letting you admire his body some more before taking hold of your chin and tilting you to look up at him.

"I missed you, doll." He rasped, moving his thumb up to sweep over your bottom lip.

You smiled up at him and ran your hand down his chest, enjoying the way the hair on his chest felt beneath your palm.

"I missed you too."

He urged you to lay back down and climbed on top of you, his hands moving down to grasp your thighs and spread them apart, settling into the space he made between your legs and smashing his lips against yours. Lining up with your entrance he pushed himself inside you, the short gasp you let out as you stretched around him muffled against his lips as he gave you a moment to adjust to the feel of him before he started moving. He broke the kiss to bury his head in the crook of your neck and litter kisses there, slightly sucking and teasing the skin between his teeth in a way that was guaranteed to leave you with marks, the thick scruff of the moustache on his upper lip scratching along your neck all the while. Shamelessly you let one of your hands get lost in his hair again, combing your fingers through it and gathering a fistful of it to gently tug once you got to the back, your other hand sliding down his back allowing you to enjoy the way the muscles in his back flexed against your palm. He stopped his affections on your neck to turn his attention to your ear, whispering into it.

"You don't know how long I've wondered what this pussy would feel like." Eddie drawled, emphasising his words with a particularly deep thrust.

For a moment he slowed his movements only to lean back and take hold of your leg, propping it on his broad shoulder before sinking back into you and filling you to the hilt all over again.

"Oh fuck, Eddie." You whined.

He chuckled, eyes half-lidded with lust and turned to place a tender kiss on the side of your knee while his hand grasped the top of your thigh. Then he started moving his hips again, long, excruciatingly hard thrusts that were only heightened by the angle he'd positioned you in. Eddie was taking his time with you. Savouring you and the way you felt, the way you sounded, the way your mouth fell open and your eyes screwed shut when he hit a particular spot. The rain was still pouring over Eddie's bedroom window, the soft thuds and pitter-patter against the glass the only noise in the room besides your needy cries and the occasional creak of the bed. He planted a few kisses along your neck again, dragging his mouth up and across your jaw until he reached your lips, and then claimed your lips with his.

"Feels so fuckin' good, babydoll." He cooed between kisses, the praise going straight to your cunt.

This was probably the first time in Eddie's whole life that he felt as though he was making love to a woman and not just fucking someone to get himself off. To him, you had never been just a pretty face or a rookie vigilante for him to mess with because he cared about you, and that was saying a lot considering Eddie didn't much care for anything, especially these days. You were the only person who had ever been able to look past his sadistic and amoral front, even when he never gave you a glimpse at the tormented man underneath. There was no doubt that the Comedian was one sick sonofabitch, a cold, heartless bastard as many would say, but he loved you for whatever that was worth.

He started bucking his hips into you rougher, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with your moans and the way he was buried so deep inside you making you dig your nails into his skin with the hand you'd placed on his back, the other still in his hair. He groaned against your lips as he felt you claw down his back, the sensation only spurring him on to make his thrusts that much more intense.

"Come for me, hon." Eddie coaxed as he felt you start to squirm beneath him, every thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hand gathering a fistful of hair at the back of his head as you clung to him, and then it crashed over you. Your breath caught in your throat, your body arching into him as he only continued to fuck you throughout your orgasm, and you finally choked out an unbridled sob from your parted lips at the overstimulation. The sound seemed to tip him over the edge too, quickly withdrawing himself from you and removing your leg from his shoulder letting it drop to his hip. He spilt onto your lower abdomen, warm droplets splashing on your skin as guttural groans reverberated through his chest, which rose and fell rapidly with his short, jagged gulps of air. Eddie took a moment to collect himself, the two of you panting as you tried to ride out your highs.

Eventually, he leaned down to place a sloppy kiss between your breasts and then got up in search of something, returning with a small towel when he was back in your field of view. Eddie never usually cared about this sort of thing, but he thought you'd appreciate the gesture. He climbed back onto the bed and started wiping you down, then tossed the towel aside when he was done cleaning you up and laid down beside you. You immediately draped your arm across him, your leg moving over him as you rested your head against his chest and sighed softly when he wrapped his arm around you and pressed a kiss on the top of your head, pulling you flush against his chest.

"We should've done this years ago." You remarked, drawing a conceited chuckle from Eddie in response.

Things got quiet when his laughter tapered off,  and then his voice pierced the silence.

"I shoulda married you."

You didn't quite believe what you had heard at first and didn't even glance at him to make sure that you had heard him correctly.

"What?"

"Don't make me say it again." He warned, knowing that you had most likely heard him the first time.

You lifted your head from his chest to look at him and were totally staggered by what you found. His eyes were glassy and full of regret, and it was clear that he was trying to keep it together so that he didn't have to be vulnerable with you. But laying here with you and feeling you wrapped up in his arms, even the sound of your slow, steady breaths drove him to a conclusion he'd been avoiding for years. He was lonely. He refused to ever come to terms with it because he'd never needed anybody, but that attitude hadn't survived the test of time. Eddie didn't have anybody to come home to after spending months away on some classified overseas bullshit, he didn't have anyone to call his own, it was just him. You sat up and cupped one side of his face, his eyes boring into yours.

"Does it help if I say I would've said yes?" You added truthfully, though it was disguised as a way of cheering him up.

He snorted his laughter and grinned, placing his much larger hand over the back of yours.

"Of course you would've, you've always been sweet on me doll." He taunted in response, which made you playfully scoff.

You leaned in and pressed a deliberately long kiss on his cheek directly over where his scar is, and then gave his lips a quick peck too.

"Well, why don't we make up for lost time, hm? We can grab dinner next week."

Then there was that sadness filling his eyes again, though you weren't sure it had ever truly left.

"I can't. I'm being shipped off to god knows where on another mission again. I don't know when I'll be back, I'm hardly ever here." Eddie sighed frustratedly.

You nodded in understanding, your thumb idly stroking his cheek.

"Okay, well when you're back just give me a call. We'll figure something out." You suggested with a small smile.

You settled back down onto his chest, his fingers combing through your strands as he started to stroke your hair, the touch making your eyelids feel heavier until eventually, you succumbed to sleep.

[reidbae]

DAY 22: Blissful — voice kink w/dom!aaron hotchner

KINKTOBER 2023: masterlist

summary: Your husband calls you on the way home from work, and is annoyedly cut off in traffic, causing him to say a word or two about it. But when you find yourself aroused by his voice alone, he's eager to take care of you the second he walks through the door.

pairing: dom!husband!aaron hotchner x sub!fem!wife!reader

warnings/mentions: use of pet names (baby, doll, honey, princess, sweet girl), huge sir kink, cussing obv, reader is held down, teasing, fingering, praise, not rlly degradation but def in that area, lmk if i missed something!

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i'm so happy i was finally able to write for hotch <3 this fic does him literally no justice at all but i will make a better one in the future :,)

tags: @nalycandy @prettyboydrspencerreid @mega-kittyglitter-1 @mrs-ssa-hotch

"Hello?" you said, your phone held to your ear as you sat in your living room.

You had been home by yourself all day while your husband was at work. He had been working more hours than usual these days, and always called you when he was on his way home, knowing that you missed him.

"Hi, honey. I didn't wake you, did I?" Aaron's deep voice rang out from the other end of the line. A smile played across your lips as you heard your husband's voice for the first time in too long, and you giggled.

"No. I've been up. I can't sleep when you're not here," you said with a laugh, feeling your face flush with heat. Aaron chuckled, too. You could hear the sound of him driving in the background as he spoke to you.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry. I should be home in less than ten," said Aaron in response. "Did you eat? Shower?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, smiling. Aaron always knew just how to take care of you and make sure you were okay, even if he couldn't be there in person to do it. "Yes, and yes, sir," you joked.

Aaron chuckled again. "That's good, baby. And you made sure to rest today?" he said.

Again, you rolled your eyes, and nodded, like he could see you. "Yes, Aaron."

"Okay, just making sure. I—" Aaron began. He soon cut himself off, a curse word falling from his lips in lieu. "Asshole."

Your eyes perked and you raised an eyebrow, wondering why he had said that. Who was he talking to?

And why did it give you butterflies?

"Aaron? A- Aaron, what happened?" you asked bewilderedly, jumping up a little in your seat.

"Sorry, honey, I'm sorry. Some guy just, fuck," he said in a deep voice. "Some guy just cut me off. I'm lucky he didn't hit me," Aaron huffed annoyedly. It was like you could see him rolling his eyes.

"Oh, God, a- are you okay?" you asked. You were sure that your tone was giving what you were thinking away, because it wasn't really one of concern: It was one of shyness, like you had other things on your mind.

That's because you did.

"Yeah, honey, don't worry. I'm fine. Sorry if I scared you," Aaron said in a caring voice. "Driving through D.C. is hell at any hour, for fuck's sake," he cursed again. "It's a wonder anyone can get anywhere."

"Uh, yeah- Mmhm, I agree," you responded inattentively, feeling yourself zone out as your husband spoke to you.

Aaron didn't seem to notice, however, and kept talking to you in that deep voice of his, rambling on about his day. He talked more than you did, which wasn't usually the case, but only because you were so mesmerized by the deep, authoritative way about his voice that you didn't dare to interrupt it.

After a while, though, however, Aaron began to pick up on your silence, and spoke up. "You okay, honey? You're not talking much."

You snapped back into reality, your eyes going a little wide. "Hm- What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just fine," you did your best to lie, sighing.

"That didn't sound very convincing. Come on, princess, what's wrong? You can tell me," said Aaron reassuringly.

It wasn't a question of what was wrong. It was one of what was right.

"Nothing's wrong, Aaron," you giggled in response, blushing.

"Oh, yeah, princess?" Aaron chuckled through the phone. "Are you lying to me?"

You began to run your fingers through your hair, playing with it as you talked to him. "No..." you giggled. His voice was really beginning to get to you now, and you rubbed your thighs together in response to it.

"Well—Maybe there is something."

"Now we're getting somewhere. Are you going to tell me what the matter is, then, baby?" said Aaron, laughing.

"Nothing's the matter...It's just...Well...I just like your voice."

Aaron paused for only a few seconds to process what you'd said. Then, he began to laugh. "My voice, doll? Did I hear that right?" he asked.

You covered your face shyly. "Y- Yes. I don't know. But it's making me feel all hot inside," you admitted to him.

Aaron didn't need to understand precisely what you meant, as long as he knew that it was getting you going. "I'm happy to hear that, honey," he said to you, his voice going lower. "I'll take care of you when I'm home, then, doll. I want you there as soon as I walk through the door. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, I understand," you said with an affirmative nod, eager to do whatever Aaron asked of you.

"Attagirl."

—

As soon as Aaron had walked through the door, you were running to his arms, just like he'd asked you to. He scooped you up effortlessly, using one hand to hold your leg, and the other to support your bottom. You reveled in the feeling of your legs wrapped around his torso.

Aaron's lips found yours in seconds, tongue dancing with yours in a sea of pent up passion. He spun you round, pinning you to the front door, before setting you down to your feet.

Aaron grabbed your wrists to hold them above your head, before attacking your neck with kisses. You squirmed under his touch, your head lolling back on the door with pleasure.

Aaron's eyes met yours, and he chuckled deeply in your ear. "Hi, baby," he said in a raspy voice, smirking down at you.

"H- Hi," you stuttered out to him, biting down on your lip.

"Did you miss me?" Aaron smiled, pressing rough kisses to your neck and collarbone. You whimpered at the feeling, nodding.

"Y- Yes, sir. I missed you so much," you said openly, not giving a care to how needy you sounded. Aaron nodded, only smiling more at your words.

"Mmhm. I wonder how much," Aaron hummed. "Let's see how wet you are for me, hm, baby?"

Aaron didn't give you a second to respond before his hands were dipping into your underwear, slipping between your folds. You whimpered in response as his fingers found your wetness, playing softly with your body.

"Fuck, baby, you're soaked," Aaron said to you, as if you didn't already know that. "And my voice was all it took, huh?" he smirked in a teasing tone of voice.

When you didn't answer, Aaron's grip on your wrists roughened, and it was clear that he was not taking your silence for an answer. "Tell me, princess."

You felt your knees grow weak, and you slid down the wall a little, closing your eyes shyly. "Y- Yes, sir. A- All it took was your voice," you whined.

"There's my good girl. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Aaron teased you, beginning to move his finger up and down your folds. You squirmed some more, groaning.

"N- No, sir," you stuttered out, allowing your body to be taken over by bliss.

Aaron took that as a sign to keep going, your hands still pinned above your head as he snuck a finger inside of you. Your back arched on the door behind you as your body shook for him, and you whined.

Aaron smiled at you, pressing his lips to yours in a wild frenzy of tongues mixing together, lips working each other's to no end. You were helpless to Aaron, unable to do much else but bask in the pleasure he was providing for you.

Aaron raised his head to your ear, bowing down to your level just to whisper to you. "You look so pretty like this, doll. All needy for me," he whispered in his deep voice. Your brain was beginning to fog up with your growing need to hear more of his voice.

"I love being able to do this to you," he chuckled, kissing the spot just below your ear. "Knowing you're all mine. That no one else can see you like this."

As his words fell from his tongue like honey, his fingers moved quicker, eager to make you feel good. You looked up at him, your eyes half-lidded as you licked your lips. "I- I'm all yours, Aaron. God, I'm yours."

"Damn straight, doll," said Aaron deeply, his voice raspy as he responded to you.

It was embarrassing how quickly you needed to come. But, fuck, that's what Aaron Hotchner would do to anyone, and you weren't afraid to acknowledge that.

As Aaron felt your walls closing around his finger, he looked down at you, knowing what was impending. "Mmm, you gonna come on my fingers, doll?"

"Y- Yes, sir," you moaned out, dizzy with desire. "Please, God, please don't stop."

That was the last thing on his mind.

You rode out your high with a blissful passion as Aaron pumped his fingers in and out of you, kissing you and whispering to you as you came all over his hand.

Aaron finally released your wrists when you came undone, and removed his finger from your cunt. Like he'd always done, he sucked his fingers dry, leaving you breathless at the view.

"I love you so much, sweet girl," Aaron smiled at you, using the hand that had been pinning you down to brush hair out of your face. You smiled up at him.

"I love you, too."

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