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artficlly · 6 months ago

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smog & spirits: spirit-raiser (mini-series)

Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and you are the witch he has chosen to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, begging, orgasm denial, fingering, p in v, no aftercare, sex magic, blood magic, potion for arousal, curses and hexes, witchcraft, possession, mediums, if you squint theres some plot, smoking, mention of death/violence/torture, mention of police brutality, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8k

A/N: hey. don't ask. this idea came to me a few days ago and i wrote it all out in like two sessions at 2am. i want to write more for this, i have so many ideas for some more one-shot style interactions. this just got so long so quickly so i had to cut some stuff. sorry for any typos - not proof read and edited while half asleep lol.

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You did not remember leaving your door unlocked.

The fog that settled over the smokey, portside district of Sootstone was suffocating. Despite it being only midday, the entire neighbourhood was cast into a muggy gloom. The sun could not break through the thick smog that comfortably nestled itself along the windy streets of The Warrens. The stench of smoke and fish hung heavy in the air, with sweaty dockworkers and dirty children darting between alleys. In your short journey to and from the small Sunday market, you had nearly been bowled over thrice by oblivious residents.

The Warrens, or Sootstone Port, as it was formally known, was not a pleasant place. Home to the working class and the rotted underbelly of the city of Blackstone. The high society chatters liked to forget such a place existed, as it was simply not a charming place to think about. Most worked the ports, ferrying in the sea trade. Others worked in the Smokestack district, manufacturing metal in factories that pumped ash and soot into the air. There were also the select few who turned to other trades, such as pubs, hotels, brothels, or even those who were forced into a life of joblessness on the streets.

The Warrens weren’t so imaginatively named. It was a clever joke among high-society gossipers that the poor fucked like rabbits and lived in their elaborate winding burrows, from which they rarely emerged for air. The people of Sootstone had accepted the insult, finding the whole metaphor rather hilarious. That was because the Warreners could take a joke, unlike the condescending crowd of high society. It could also be argued that the residents of The Warrens could not come up with a better metaphor, as most were not educated in any sense.

Perhaps the mixture of smog and that lack of an education had finally made it to your head. You were left standing, perplexed, as your front door swung open without so much of a nudge. The lock was normally a sticky one, leaving you to jiggle the knob and slam your shoulder against the frame until it came unstuck. Never in your two years of living in the tiny flat had you ever witnessed such a sight.

You would’ve thought it a miracle if it weren’t for the implications.

It was true that The Warrens were notorious for crimes. Theft, assault, and murder. Even if coppers paraded the streets, they weren’t truly there to stop criminals. No, they were more interested in beating any poor innocents that got in their way. It was better to find protection from vigilante gangs who roamed Sootstone’s streets, scrapping like stray dogs over territories. As much as those uninvolved in such business were afraid of them, they also respected them. Their deeds weren’t always motivated by blood and destruction; the gangs stood to protect their communities as no one else would.

Even if you and your surrounding neighbours were under the protection of Barnes’ Smog Boys, it was definitely still alarming to see a group of them gathered in your small kitchen.

“Lookie who's home.” One of the men cooed at the sight of you. He stood closest to the door, one hand tucked in his jacket pocket while the other fiddled with a toothpick that hung from his lips. His blond hair was slicked back, tucked under a flatcap. Steve Rogers. The Smog Boys right hand man. Next to him was Sam Wilson, his stocky form leaning against your rickety cupboards. His gaze was fixed on a silver pocket watch he had tightly secured in his left palm, a short chain draping across his vest. He glanced up at Steve’s words, a wicked smirk crossing his lips at the sight of you.

“Sunday market?” Sam queried, and you drew your woven basket closer. There was an unsettling sneer in his voice.

The Smog Boys were one of seven gangs that roamed the underbelly of Blackstone. Their territories lay in the fog of Sootstone Port and the smokey streets of the Smokestack district and The Warrens. You could commonly see them stalking the streets, dressed in all black with their flatcaps and slicked back hair. They moved through the smog like ghosts, navigating the twisting streets with an unnatural ease. Some called them ghouls; others called them saviours from the fog.

The final man, the worst of them all, was Bucky Barnes. He sat across from you, half obscured by your small dining table. He had laid a box of cigarettes and matches on the marked wood. One was smoking between his lips, his head angled down and cocked to one side, as he assessed you with a look of boredom. There was a terrifying edge of calculation in his gaze as he evaluated you. He was just as large as the other two men, with muscles poorly hidden beneath his black, tailored suit. His hair, similarly to Steve's, was slicked back, and the sides buzzed. A 5’oclock shadow ghosted his jawline, but overall, his appearance was unsettlingly neat.

Not a speck of ash or soot. As if he had just appeared within your flat, blinking into existence rather than having walked The Warrens like any other mere mortal.

You had never seen the man in person. No. If the Smog Boys were ghosts, Bucky certainly lived up to the name. He was an enigma, a haunting story whispered between children. He had clawed his way up to a position of power from the gutters of The Warrens, bloodshed and all. He was a notorious skirt-chaser, his handsome appearance and strong build drawing in women from all classes. Looking at him now, despite the terror congealing in your blood, you could understand the appeal.

“Why’re you here?” You ask hesitantly. Unlike the gangsters before you, you were not pristine by any means. Falling ash had coated your shoulders, staining the tartan fabric of the mantle draped over your shoulders. Your hair was swept up under a head scarf, which was also covered in a layer of soot and dust from the smokestacks. Even your worn leather boots were not safe; mud and filth caked onto the heels and sides. The streets of The Warren had never known any type of cleanliness.

“Come to introduce ourselves. Don’t think we’ve ever met before, ‘least I think I would’ave remembered a pretty face like yours.” Steve speaks up, a gleam in his eye. His tone is playful yet somehow cruel. The chuckle he and Sam share rattles you. The two of them were also said to try their luck with the women who crowded around, searching for the thrill of a gangster lover.

“You might’ave mistaken me for someone else… I’ve lived here two years now.” You speak with a continued caution. With precise movements, as to not brush either of the hulking men crowding the kitchen entrance, you place your basket on a nearby surface. Even the cloth that you have thrown over the items is coated in a layer of ash.

“We know.” Sam says, twisting his body. He lifts up the cloth, inspecting the food beneath. You know it is nothing exciting—some bread, fish, and vegetables. As well as a handful of sweets you gave to the children of your neighbour. You keep your mouth shut as Sam dips into the white and red striped paper bag and pops one of the sweets into his mouth with a satisfied hum.

Steve pushes himself off the wall, his jacket brushing against you. He was far taller than you, tall enough that he had to crane his neck down in order to whisper in your ear. “A lil’ birdy told us you’re a spirit-raiser.”

“I—No.” You stumble over your words, eyes darting between the three men. Bucky is still silent, still like a cat hunting a mouse. The gaze he assessed you with was one of a predator, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. He doesn’t crack a smile as the two men beside you laugh between themselves.

To fend off some anxious energy, you make quick work of unknotting your headscarf. Ash and dust flutter to the ground as you shake out the fabric, a frown etched across your features. You could not help but let your mind wonder to the stories you had heard growing up. You were a lifelong resident of The Warrens, only moving to live on your own after sickness claimed your mother. You father had passed long before that, lost to drink.

“What do you call yourself then? Hm?” Steve asks, breath hot against your cheek. You flinch as he pulls a fleck of ash from your hair. In the stories, they would speak of men with their tongues cut out. Bodies that were filled with bricks, then stitched back up and sunk to the bottom of the Sootstone Port. Men were found hanged from street lights, severely beaten, with sections of skin along their thighs and chest peeled off with a blade. And those were only the bodies coppers found.

“I prefer witch.” You correct, brows furrowing. Your head turns to look at the gangster, wary of how close his fingers lingered. Teeth bared in a grin, he blows a soft breath across your hair, the last of the ash unsettled as it floats away. You can smell tobacco on his breath—a familiar scent to you.

“I need a favour.” Bucky finally speaks up, his voice low. Your gaze snaps to meet his.

You blink. “A favour?”

You jump as Bucky finally moves, his foot jerking as he kicks the seat opposite him. The chair scrapes across the hardwood floors, stopping centimetres before your boots.

“Sit.” He commands.

Sam’s hand finds the back of your neck, a soft push guiding you in the direction of the free space. You obey, your knee bouncing as you take a seat. You sit near the edge of the chair, leaving some distance between yourself and the table. As if sensing your desire to bolt, Steve sweeps up behind you, pushing the chair in until you are fully tucked in. Then, with mocking laughter, Sam and Steve take a seat on either side of you.

“No one told me there was any issue about magic—” You begin. Steve snickers beside you, returning to fiddling with the toothpick still poking from his mouth.

“A favour.” Bucky repeats, exhaling smoke from his nose. Sam leans back in his seat, legs spread so widely that his knee touches yours. You shrink back as far as possible. “I’m no copper. I don’t care what you practitioners get up to.”

You find yourself blinking in surprise once more. Magic was a subject that divided many, mostly due to it’s misunderstood nature. High society treated magic as another lavish hobby or skill, with some even going to private schools to turn their gifts into professions with the right licences. Of course, the people of the lower-class were banned from performing such tricks unless they were in possession of the right permits. Due to the nature of the slums being, well, impoverished, unlicensed magic ran rampant through the streets. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that an entire blackmarket of forbidden arts ran in the backalleys and warehouses of The Warren. Places where those needing particular services could find them for a much more convenient price than in the higherclass areas of Blackstone.

You had kept your services rather secretive, never using your real identity with clients. It was a precaution to not have coppers knocking down your door in the middle of the night. It seemed, despite your best efforts, that nothing flew past Bucky Barnes. But then again, nothing seemed to fly past the gangster. He knew of every black market and every whisper of illegal activity in the slums. It would be foolish to believe he was unaware of you; however, why did he specifically sort you out? Now that was a mystery.

“I don’t understand—” You choke out, head whipping back and forth as you look between the men.

Bucky sighs loudly in annoyance, loud enough that you flinch back. He puts out the remains of his cigarette on your dining table, the smouldering dip leaving a black, circular mark on the wood. He digs into one of the pockets of his vest, revealing a large pendant necklace. The chain is silver, with an oval shaped jewel hanging from the centre. The silver that encrusts it in place is swirled, ensuring there are no gaps for it to escape. Sam and Steve fall quiet, any feeling of twisted amusement dropping from the room. Bucky slides the necklace across the table.

You recoil. This time not out of fear, but rather from the aura the necklace exudes.

Goosebumps rise across your skin, and bile rises in your throat. There was a wickedness in the air, as if all the light and sweetness in the world were sucked into an empty, yawning void. The world feels still, as if even the ash outside has failed to fall. The room is cast into a sickening silence, a silence so strong that even the surrounding world refuses to push through. You can no longer hear the people walking through the winding streets of The Warren, not the clang of metal from the smokestacks or the cry of the dockworkers.

Rot.

It is the only word that comes to your mind. It is as if the jewel itself is rotten, potent, and putrid. An invisible smell so strong you nearly gag. Your skin crawls the longer you stare, as if you rot along with it—bugs squirming beneath your flesh, the taste of dirt in your mouth.

“What’s this?” You asked, your voice strained. You know the blood has drained from your face. Bucky looks at you with curiosity.

“You tell me.”

You look down at the necklace. Dread rises once more, and the chill of soil settles across your shoulders. You twist your head and your neck, feeling uncomfortable and strained the longer you gaze upon the necklace.

There was something terribly, terribly wrong about it.

“There’s a… a sickness… a rot—a curse.” You stumble over your words, your entire body squirming against your will. The feeling of dread swims through you; the sensation that you need to get as far away as possible reverberates down your spine.

“Becca was right.” Steve sings somewhere besides you, but you barely register his words.

“Where’d you find this?” You ask. The room is tighter than usual, with the rickety, peeling cabinets closing in around you. The oven screeches on its iron legs, the yellowed wallpaper crushing closer and closer. Your head falls into your hands, elbows propped onto the table. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to rid yourself of the sickly feeling. You rub your fingers up your face, pinching the bridge of your nose, then massaging your forehead

“It was given to me. As a gift.” As he speaks, you reluctantly open your eyes once more. The room has returned to as you remember, your vision less dizzying as you take in a deep gulp of air, your heart thundering in your ears. You must make a face, because it prompts him to speak once more.

“My sister has a sensitivity. She is convinced—”

“There’s a spirit attached to that jewel.” You interrupt before thinking. Your knees bounce beneath the table, your feet shaking. Your entire being screams that you need to get away from the object. You do not care for politeness or fear of these men, as the horror in your heart you felt gazing upon the necklace greatly outweighed any potential anxieties of the future.

“Yes.” His voice matches his composure—cool and collected. Wholly unaffected by the horrific aura cast by the necklace. Bucky and his men were not magically inclined. They were completely oblivious to the calamity that sat before them.

“The spirits're attached to you, too.” You pause, the feeling of bile rising in your throat once more. “You need to get it lifted.”

“That’s where the favour comes in, doll.”

“I don’t…?” You nearly doubled over. “Please get rid of it. I can’t—”

Barnes leans forward, slowly dragging the necklace over the wood. He slowly deposits it into his breast pocket, watching with curiosity as you sag in relief. You would need to burn this table after they left. You could still sense the rot engrained in the pores of the wood.

“I need to speak with the spirit attached.”

Your forearms lay flat on the table, and you rest your head against them as you try to remember how to breathe. A wave of exhaustion rolls over you. Was this how they tortured their victims? Wore them down into pathetic, panting messes? Were you about to become another body at the bottom of the Sootstone port? You mumble into the fabric. “I can’t raise a spirit without a name.”

“I know her name.”

You pause, lifting your head slowly. “You want to ask her how to break it? You may know her, but spirits’re tricksters they won’t always give ya the correct information—”

“I know how to deal with her.”

You arch a brow, unsure.

“She’s a scorned lover.” Sam whispers beside you. You jump, having forgotten the two other men sitting besides you. Bucky scowls at his words—the most emotion he has shown in the entire time.

“Everyone knows you don’t ‘ave a witch for a moll unless you’re gonna marry her.” Steve butts in, and the two men share a chuckle.

“Shut your mugs. The both of ya.” Bucky snarls, and they both fall silent, although you can’t help but notice their bemused smiles. After a brief, tense silence, the gangster settles back into his seat, tipping his chin upward in a nod. “Morwenna Blackthorn.”

You hesitate, glancing between the three men. They watch you expectantly, relaxing back into their respective seats. Given their status and reputation, you had to presume they were familiar with the workings of underground magic. Licenced practitioners would have clients sign lengthy documents for protection in the event of a spell or session backfiring. The Warrens did not have such luxuries—if you made a mistake, no one could protect you or them from the consequences.

You inhale sharply, placing your hands palms down on the table. The wood hums beneath your touch, the invisible vapours of the curse tickling your flesh. With a roll of your shoulders, you exhale slowly, allowing your body to relax.

Ink drips across your vision, swirling darkness millimetres before your eyes. You stare hard into the invisible void, searching blindly through the tendrils of smoke. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your mind hums. Through the dark fog, you can make out figures—flickers of candle flames casting large, distorted shadows. Morwenna Blackthorn. Bones crunch beneath your feet, yet at the same time, you float. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your hands burn into the table, the rotting sensation tangling through your digits, pulling you deeper.

Morwenna Blackthorn

You can see a thin line of thread hanging through the void.

Morwenna Blackthorn.

It is red; a series of knots tugged tightly intermittently.

Morwenna Blackthorn.

Your fingers grasp the fibres gently, your nail hooking around one of the tiny knots.

You tug.

Morwenna Blackthorn.

A violent, ragged gasp leaves you. It claws up your throat, ripping at the flesh. Your entire body tenses, your spine straightening as your head snaps back. For a moment, you are suspended. You can feel her with you, her ghostly fingers stroking tenderly across your skin. She smooths over the back of your hands, slowly and gradually winding her way up your arms. She clutches your shoulders, her bones digging into your flesh.

Then, with violence strong enough that you fear she has folded your spine in half, she pushes down.

Your body instantly relaxes, head lulling downward. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and despite the appearance being a milky white, you can see perfectly clearly. Morwenna has settled herself deep within your bones, controlling your movements like a puppeteer. You are conscious enough to understand what is happening, but you are not in control of your actions or speech.

Your mouth spread into a wide, sly smile. “Bucky, my love.”

“Mor.” The gangster greets, although he does not seem entirely pleased. You pout, leaning your elbows onto the table.

“Not happy to see me?” You coo. Somewhere beside you, Steve shifts in his seat uncomfortably. It is the most off put you’ve ever seen the man so far. He winces as your head swings around, a wicked grin gracing your lips. “Oh, Stevie and Sam. Didn’t see you two here.”

“Mor.” The two men grumble in unison, scowling.

“Awh. Why so glum, boys?” You whine, your chair scraping against the floor as you stand. Your movements are fluid and graceful, entirely not your own. Your hands stroke across the back of the chair, then swooshes up to meet your chest.

You lean forward, tutting as you inspect your reflection in the glass of a nearby cupboard. “Trust you to find a pretty one in The Warrens.”

Your hands move to unpin your mantle, a cloud of ash lingering in the air as you drop it to the floor. You sigh in relief, your fingers unbuttoning the top of your shirt, revealing the curve of your breasts. Your hands smooth down your waist to your hips; your full figure is now displayed.

“You missed me that much, my love? That you had to find a pretty vessel for me so you could get your cock wet, hm?” You hum, sashying towards the table once more.

“That’s not why you’re here.” Bucky replies. He seems frozen in place. The horror of familiarity. Recognising the mannerisms of someone he once knew in a complete stranger.

You ignore his words, unpinning your hair. Thick locks unroll, cascading down your shoulders and back. You let out an exaggerated, satisfied sigh, rolling your neck. The strands frame your face, and the rich colour brings colour to your cheeks.

“Morwenna.” Bucky snaps. Your brows furrow as you look over to him, pouting once more. “You put a curse. On the necklace.”

Your mind momentarily blanks, as if Morwenna were trying to recall what he said. Spirits often grew confused trying to recall memories, especially ones that brought them anguish. A cog seems to turn as you flash the gangster another beaming smile.

“The necklace… oh. Did you like it? My parting gift to you? Before you fucked me over you piece of—” Your voice, once sweet and soft, deepens to a guttural growl. Your body shakes, and words cut off as you cough and hack. Your hand raises to your mouth, warm fluid leaking from your lips. You let in a shuddering breath, rubbing your fingers and palms down your chin. Blood smears across your skin.

“You shot me, my love.” You gasp, your brows furrowing as your head tilts. “You shot me.”

“You betrayed us, remember? You were a rat—” Steve jumps in, but is quickly cut off.

“Steve.” Bucky warns.

Your hands find your stomach, doubling over as you sob. There is no wound, no blood. Still, your hands dig at the fabric while ragged, pathetic cries leave your blood stained lips.

“How do I break the curse?”

You shuddering sobs stop, a dreadful silence falling over the tiny kitchen. A guttural laugh erupts from you, saliva mixed with blood dripping from your lips to the floor. “The curse. The curse? I should have known… I should have known…”

Your body jerks upward, movements stiff, and jerks like a marionette doll. Sam’s face contorts into one of fear, while Steve looks horrified. You jerk forward, nearly tripping over the chair as you plunge towards the table. Your stomach smacks hard against the wood, a winded wheeze escaping your lungs as you drag yourself forward by your nails.

“Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me?” You cry, your head beginning to twist, the angle so unnatural that it strains your neck.

“How do I break it?” Bucky repeats, voice firm. He hasn’t so much as flinched, a wall of steel as you crawl towards him.

“It was born in chaos, so it must be undone in chaos. I will find you. I will tear you limb from limb. I will make you rot from the inside out; maggots will grow within you; and mould will bloom in your soul. Everything will crumble to dust beneath your touch. I will ruin you until you b–b—be—”

Your body slides back, and for the first time in the entire session, you grab the reins. You search blindly for the knotted thread, tugging hard. Your body steps back from the table, muscles spasming and tense as your body locks in place.

You tug harder, and darkness swims across your vision. Candles flicker and dance in the distance, the sun rising and falling as your body twists up and down. The smell of rot slowly subsides, threads slipping from your fingers. The scent of copper and ash is on your tongue, and your head is pounding.

A dramatic sigh leaves you as your body slumps. You find yourself standing before the table, three sets of eyes burning into you as your own eyes roll back into place. Sam and Steve look equally disturbed as they are horrified, the blond’s mouth agape in shock.

“The fuck was that?” Sam barks.

“I ain’t never seen a spirit session like that before, Buck—” Steve begins.

“Shut it.” Bucky barks, rising to his feet.

There is a sickly feeling in your chest, a radiating pain across your ribcage. You barely register the gangster walking up to you, gripping your chin between his index and thumb.

“You pulled yourself out early.” Bucky sneers. “Why?”

“Buck—” Steve calls again. With a growl, Bucky releases you, twisting around to snarl at Steve.

“I thought you told me she was the best in the Warrens?”

“She is. Did’ya not see that shit?”

“She didn’t get me an answer—”

“Chaos magic.” You finally speak up, your voice raspy. The gangsters pause, slowly turning to face you. “She told you. It’s chaos magic. What’s born in chaos must be undone in chaos.”

Your hand raises to your face, your fingertips touching your upperlip as warm blood flows from your nose. You raise your hand into the light, inspecting the crimson liquid. Your eyes cut over to Bucky's, and he frowns.

“Chaos magic?” He questions.

“Sex magic.” You state, fighting the heat growing across your cheeks. Without much of a care or a flinch, you navigate your way past the group. Your shirt brushes against Bucky’s jacket, the rotting feeling momentarily settling in your stomach as the fabric brushes his breastpocket. You pause in front of your sink, knuckles white as you grip the lip. Blood continues to stream steadily from your nose, dripping into the basin.

“You focus your thoughts on one thing; you get pulled into a trance. Take the energy, the chaos, and you focus it. At the peak, picture what you’re manifestin’. The chaos that you’ve built through the act is released at the moment of orgasm.” You explain, your gaze solidly locked onto the blood that swirls down your drain.

“Sex magic.” Bucky hums in thought.

Steve spoke up from beside him with a snicker. “How poetic.”

—

You hated how your hands shook. If Bucky had noticed, he hadn’t brought it up. He was coolly inspecting your tiny bedroom, hands tucked into his pockets. The room had an eclectic taste, with walls covered in shelving. You collected books, objects, trinkets, or other things that helped your work. Drying herbs hung from your curtain railings, your desk cluttered with papers you had hastily scribbled notes upon.

You ground your palm harder into the pestle, gritting your teeth as you worked the herbs inside into a fine paste. Your bed, stripped bare, had been pushed to the side of the room. It usually sat near the centre, atop a fraying rug. The rug had also been removed, rolled up, and placed somewhere in your stairway. The old wood beneath had been painted by your hand, with intricate runes, symbols, and swirls making up the general shape of a circle. You had already lined it with black salt, candles burning at each cardinal direction. At the centre of the circle, you had laid your bedding and pillows for comfort.

Bucky had sent Steve and Sam away, the two men snickering like a pair of school boys. You all knew what was about to unfold; it was just a question of why you had allowed yourself to become tangled up in such a situation. You had done similar rituals for clients before, yes, but none of those clients had been the boss of the Smog Boys. None of them had been Bucky Barnes.

You eyed him as he paused in front of the carved circle, mindlessly playing with the jewelled necklace that hung from his grip. The awful, dreadful, rotting sensation was dulled; you’d nearly begged the gangster to let you cleanse the object. It was a temporary relief that would wear down in a few hours, but at least you could complete your work without gagging at the feeling of it. You hurriedly poured the thick paste from the herbs into a pot, which boiled in your fireplace. It only took a couple of stirs for the potion to settle. You could feel Bucky’s eyes assessing your every movement as you poured the steaming liquid into two cups, briefly swirling each to ensure the consistency was correct.

“Remind me what this is.” The gangster asked, closing the distance between you. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the scent.

“A potion to help with the ritual. Some find it…hard to perform.” You say, wincing as you realise what you implied. Bucky raises a brow as you fumble over your words. “It heightens arousal and pleasure.”

“I won’t find it hard to perform.” He replies curtly.

“I know. I wasn’t saying that—I just… from experience…” You stumble again. If only you could punch yourself in the face for this idiocy.

“Relax, doll.” He hums, his hand finding your shoulder. You exhale sharply, lips pressed together, as your shoulders drop in response. “I can find someone else if you don’t want this.”

As much as you hated yourself for admitting it, you did want this. Maybe it was a sick curiosity, wondering if this dangerous yet handsome man could perform as well as you imagined, as well as it was rumoured. You swallow, your mouth feeling dry. “No. I want this.”

“Good.” His hand brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, and his head dips to look at you better. “Honestly, I could fuck you with or without the potion, doll.”

There is a knowing smirk spreading across his face as your mind blanks. Fucking rake. You consider if the fumes from the potion have already leaked their effects onto you both. You can feel a warmth growing between your legs.

“It’s my job.” You mutter, stepping away. Although you’re unsure if the reassurance is for yourself or for him. His chuckle follows you as you sweep across the room, returning to your small desk. “Do you want me to explain the ritual in detail or just give you the gist of it?”

“Spare the details; just run me through what I need to do.” He responds. He has closed the distance between the both of you again, peering over your shoulder as you fumble through your things.

“Well, it’s pretty simple.” You sigh, turning around. Your chests are nearly pressed together as you spin. You back up as far as possible, your hands moving behind your back as you grip the edge of the desk to steady yourself. "We’ll have to draw some blood with a blade and put it on the necklace to link it to our energies. It’s sigil magic, nothing you’ll have to worry about. We take the potions…”

You fade off with a shrug. Bucky smirks once more, his chin lifting in amusement, but his gaze remains solidly locked onto you. His hands go to his pockets, and his wide chest blocks your movements. You clear your throat. “The ending is more what you’ll need to focus on. When you reach… climax… you must focus all your energy on the necklace and nothing else. I will be there to guide and remind you, but you can’t let your thoughts stray.”

“What about you? What will you have to think of?” He questions, his voice low. His adams apple bobs as he swallows slowly, his tongue running across his bottom lip in thought. Intriguing question. No one had asked you that before.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the only one who needs to orgasm.”

“Why?”

“The curse is linked to you. Only you can break it, with my assistance, of course. I am just here to help guide you and lend you my energy. I am just a conduit for the magic, to focus it.” You explain. Thinking it was best to get it over and done with, you finally pluck up the courage to push past him.

Your athame was already in place; the candles were lit, salt laid, and sigil memorised. There was only one thing left to do—the act. You crouch down by the fireplace, retrieving the two cups. Bucky gives you an incredulous look.

“It tastes better than it smells.” You reassure him, handing him the saucer. He inspects the liquid once more, wincing, then shrugging in surprise as he finally downs the lot. You watch with a scrutinising gaze as he places the cup down, rolling his shoulders.

The potion would take all of five seconds to take affect. It didn’t alter the brain or take away authority; rather, it heightened already present feelings of arousal or pleasure. The user would experience a rather euphoric sensation. Dodgy brothels often microdosed their clients with such herbs to heighten the experience. Also to hook in a new, loyal customer. Used sparingly, the herbs were fine, but they were highly addictive.

And illegal. Most of your work fell into that category.

Within moments, you could see Bucky’s pupils dilate, his jaw and shoulders relaxing, and his nostrils flaring as he exhaled slowly. His voice was strained as he spoke up, his tone gravelly and low as he cleared his throat in surprise. “Fuck. That does feel good, doesn’t it?”

You smile shyly into your own cup and swallow down the liquid. You were familiar with the taste and it’s effects. It was surprisingly sweet, with a vanilla, nutty aftertaste. As soon as it hit your stomach, you could already feel the warmth growing in your core—a delightful tingling sensation spreading up your spine and skull.

You were quick to place your cup down and cross the room to retrieve the athame. You had to pin point your actions very directly so as not to get distracted by the hulking man looming in your room. The potion was definitely potent, because any fear or anxiety had left you. Your body begged for him to come closer, to touch you, to kiss you. Not yet. Soon.

“Come here.” You murmur, drawing the blade from it’s sheath. Bucky obeys, wordlessly stalking towards you and presenting you with his palm. You look up at him through your lashes, gently taking his hand into yours. Your skin sings at the content, a rush of goosebumps raising across your skin. “We don’t need much blood.”

The gangster is still as you drag the blade in a short cut along the heel of his palm. You push into the mound, coaxing out droplets of blood to blister to the surface. “The necklace.”

He lets out a low, agreeable grunt as he hands it to you. The potion has helped you ignore any bad energy attached to the object. Your skin simmers as you brush your finger tips along the cut, gathering Bucky’s blood. You take the jewel, smearing the blood across the slippery surface into one half of a symbol. Bucky watches expectantly as you hastily repeat the process with your own hand, smearing your blood to complete the symbol.

“You need to wear it.” You hum and guide the chain over his head. You know you should find a bandage or some kind of healing salve for your hands, but your attention is pulled away as Bucky grasps your hand. An involuntary whimper leaves your throat as he raises your palm to his lips, his tongue peaking out as he runs it across the open wound. The potion had definitely taken effect. Holy fuck, your back arches as pleasure shoots down your arm, blooming at the base of your skull.

His lips kiss along the cut, sucking and licking. Your mind swims from the sensation—ideas of where else he could be putting his mouth to use. You pull your palm away, dragging it across his cheek as you cup his face. A crimson streak is smeared along his skin, and his lips are glossy from saliva and stained with your blood. The two of you clash in desperation, a rumbling groan being pulled from the gangster as his lips engulf yours.

You can taste copper on his tongue, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you flush against his body. The two of you move in a frantic rhythm, scarcely making room to breathe. You guide him clumsily to the painted circle, the two of you falling to your knees in unison. Blindly, you find his clothing, helping him tug off the jacket and then unbutton his vest.

His hands slip under your blouse, caressing the skin beneath. His fingers roam to your brassiere, your nipples hardening as he brushes them through the sleek fabric. You mewl into his mouth, squirming under his touch as the pulse between your legs quickens. His large palm comes to rest below your breasts, his thumb sitting on your sternum as he yanks you backwards onto his lap.

Your lips break, and you gasp for air as the gangster continues his assault down your neck to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His stubble tickles across your neck, and he gathers your skirts, fingers gliding past your stockings to your exposed inner thigh.

Your head tips backwards to rest on his shoulder, and loud, satisfied sighs leave you. The sensation is near blinding, your body alight with pleasure. Had you accidentally made a stronger dose in your nervousness? You had never yearned in such a way before—

“What’re you doing?” You query with a gasp as his fingers slip beneath your loose tap pants.

Your question is answered as he strokes a fingertip through your wet folds.

“You’re so wet.” He hums against your skin, voice strained. You can already feel his erection pressing into you. His grip on you remains firm, your back flush against his chest as he dips two of his fingers into you. Ecstasy fizzles across your skin, nails digging into his skin where you grip his arm.

“What’re you— I’m supposed to make you—ah!” You whine, your breath coming fast as you lean harder into him. Your hips rock greedily, pushing your pelvis in time with his pumping fingers so the heel of his palm grinds against your clit.

“Shh, doll. Relax.” He whispers, his tongue licking up the shell of your ear. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your body is locked in place by his grip. His pace increases, and the panting in your ear grows as his two digits glide in and out of your tight cunt.

“Do you like that?” He groans in your ear. Your grinding hips are now giving friction to his cock, which twitches against your backside through his pants. You whimper in response, a short sob bubbling from your mouth as you clench around him.

Your head lifts, eyes widening as you look down. You can’t see much due to your skirts, but you can feel the knot tightening within your belly. Your hips move more desperately, needy, pathetic moans escaping you as his pace remains steady.

“Please—” You beg, squirming as the gangster chuckles.

“You do like this, huh? Even if you acted like a little innocent virgin earlier.” He growls. The vibration is enough to set you over the edge, a loud cry leaving you as you clench hard around his fingers, body spasming. Bucky continues to steadily pump you through your orgasm. “Good girl.”

A continued arousal stirs in your belly at his praise. Your body slumps against him, panting and exhausted.

“Such a good girl.” He hums again, his digits slipping out of you. You can feel the sloppy mess between your thighs, and as Bucky pulls his hand into the light, you can see the wet drenching his fingers. “I think I like this version of you. The one who makes pretty little noises while I fuck her brains out, hm?”

You’re left speechless as the gangster lifts his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk.

“Well, time to get this ritual over with then, don’t you think?” He says. You’re too exhausted and drunk on desire to bother replying. You allow him to guide you down, so your head is placed side-ways on one of the pillows. He guides your hips up, your legs slightly spread, and pushes your skirts to your hips.

“You’ll have to tell me when you’re close, so I can guide you.” You finally muster up the strength to say. The gangster pulls your tap pants down, exposing your cunt fully.

“Sure thing, doll.” He says in response. You hear the sound of fabric rustling as he pulls out his cock.

Without much warning, he pushes into you, your arousal making it easy for his member to slide in and out of you. A growl burns in the back of his throat while you wordlessly make a fist around the sheets and blankets beneath you.

“Fuck. You’re so tight.” Bucky groans, his voice strained. “And to think you’ve been hidin’ out in The Warrens all this time.”

He sinks deeper into you, pulling small whimpers and moans from you as he finds a steady, pleasurable rhythm. His hand slides up your clothed back, pushing you harder into the pillow with a grunt. His other hand finds your hips, his grip bruising as he guides you.

You bite down into the pillow, your pleasured sobs muffled by the feathers.

“You squeezed so tightly around my fingers; I can’t wait to see how you’ll feel when you come around my cock.” Bucky grunted as he ploughed into you. His hand fists around your loose hair, fingers tangling through the locks as he tugs. Tears are beginning to prickle in your eyes, and your legs are wobbling from the sensation.

“Please—” you gasp out.

“Please, what?” The gangster asks, tugging harder. The hand on your hip is squeezing tighter as he holds you in place.

“Please—I need to—”

“No.” He growls, tugging you upward. You fall backwards into his lap once more, his cock still inside you but somehow deeper from the angle he holds you. “You need to finish the ritual, remember? I can’t have you guide me if you’re too fucked out to talk.”

Another sob leaves you, but you wordlessly nod. You hold onto the burning sensation in your gut, the waves of satisfaction so immense that your limbs tremble. Bucky continues to fuck up into you, his cock steadily driving into you as his free hand comes to lazily swirl your swollen clit.

You try to remember words, instructions, anything. You feel too high to even breathe. All you can do is focus on the sensation of the necklace rubbing against your back and the friction burning against your skin.

“Focus on the necklace. How it feels around your neck.” You squeak out, your eyes squeezed shut, as you try to ground yourself. “Focus on the feeling of the chain, the weight of the jewel. Think of your blood, how a piece of you is painted onto it.”

There is a moment of silence between the two of you, only the slapping of skin and the rasping of breath.

“Are you focused on it?” You ask.

“Yes.” The gangster cuts back. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy.

“Focus.” You whisper, though a breathy moan leaves you. “Feel your energy flow; feel your blood seep into the stone. Picture how it will shatter beneath your power.”

His hips jerk beneath you, his finger on your clit swirling faster. Your breath comes in sharp stutters, your back arching as you find no way to escape the rising sensation. His back is rock solid behind you, his hands keeping you in place as you begin to spiral. Your pussy tightens around him as you begin to scream—

“Please, Bucky. Please!”

Something snaps between the both of you, his hips jerking wildly as he spills into you. He moans into your ear at a deafening level, his fingers digging into your thighs. You double over in pleasure, your vision briefly going black as you cry out. Sparks dance across your skin, your body momentarily alight as the power of magic flows through you. You can feel the rush as your energy meets Bucky’s entangling with one another in a fierce battle. For a second, you feel intoxicated, colours bursting across your sight as the rush of magic rests in your chest, and then, just as quickly as it arrived, it cascades out of you.

Behind you, the sound of shattering can be heard above the moans.

Panting, Bucky releases you. You slump to the floor, off his lap. His cum drips from your pussy, thighs wet as sticky as you close your eyes, desperately trying to catch your breath. You roll onto your back, pressing your thighs together. Through heavy-lidded eyes, you look down at Bucky. He sits kneeling, dishevelled. His hair is ruffled, blood is still smeared along his cheek, and his shirt is untucked and creased.

At some point, he has tucked his cock away, suspenders hanging loosely by his hips. His gaze is not on you; rather, it is solely focused on the necklace in his palm. You go to lift your head, but you find yourself too weak and exhausted to bother. A mixture of being too fucked out to care and the lack of energy from acting as a conduit for the ritual.

“Did it work?” You ask the gangster, and his eyes finally pull up to look at you. His gaze wanders over your face, examining your swollen lips, the blush across your cheeks, and the areas where exposed skin remains. He cracks a grin, lifting his hand. The necklace dangles from his fingers, the large, blue jewel now gifted with a large crack down the centre.

You let out a sigh of relief, letting your head fall back as you stared up at the ceiling. Your eyes flicker closed, a sleepy warmth prickling across your scalp.

“Doll?”

Your eyes snap open with a jolt.

“It’s all done? The curse is gone?” The gangster questions. You weakly nod in reply.

“Her spirit and whatever curse she held have been released.” You affirm, voice sleepy, relaxing back into the pillows and blankets. “Apologies. This type of spell drains me.”

Bucky chuckles. You were just glad you had enough sense near the end to actually guide him. The gangster appeared to be attempting to prove something with the orgasms he extracted from you. In the state you were in, you had little reason to complain.

When you opened your eyes again, he was across the room, vest on and jacket slung over his arm.

“I’ll leave your payment downstairs.” He says, only pausing to look down at you, still curled up on the floor. You blink up at him sleepily. “Thanks for your help, spirit-raiser.”

You can’t find the energy to correct him.

PONY CLUB (PART 2)

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in1-nutshell · 28 days ago

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HELLO‼️ I hope you are safe and well with the hurricane and I'm so glad that I'm able to finally send a request so here it is‼️

There's not many rescue bots oneshots and I want to change that, so in Rescue bots theres human skater buddy with their head in the clouds leading them to getting into trouble frequently (like nearly getting hit by a car or just getting into the crossfire of the rescue bots shenanigans) and it's like to a point where the whole when they are out on a mission have to keep a spare eye/optic out for the little human‼️

I hope you'll be able to get to this before it's deleted or whatever, but still, I can't wait to see what you come up with for this concept. Thanks, and have a good day/night‼️

Introducing Danger magnet Buddy! love this concept!

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy the skater and a danger magnet

SFW, Platonic, Human Reader

The Burns family had known about Buddy’s little quirks for years.

They were after all good friends with Cody throughout their childhood.

The kid had their head up in the clouds or down with their skates.

Luckily, Cody always seemed to find ways to get them back down to Earth.

Too bad there wasn’t much he could do about their terrible luck with dangerous situations.

They never mean to be in these situations, they just happen when they’re around.

It took a while for the Burns to finally understand it wasn’t their fault.

It was a small island, one was bound to get stuck in the crossfire at some point.

When the Bots arrived, Cody made sure to debrief them a bit about his friend’s tendencies.

Heatwave is convinced that Buddy is doing it for attention.

There is now way someone can be THAT unlucky.

Not even on this island.

Kade and him have little talks about Buddy being a ‘danger magnet.’

Kade: “You think they are doing it for attention?” Heatwave: “Isn’t it obvious? There’s no way they aren’t doing it for any other reason.” Kade chuckles. Kade: “We used to think that too… but after a few years of seeing their little dumb face around, you kinda start believing it.” Heatwave: “What do you mean?” Kade: “There a bit of a danger magnet.” Heatwave: “Why is that a magnet you have!?”

He does start believing the existence of ‘the danger magnet’ after a few missions where Buddy just showed up randomly.

Heatwave hates to see Buddy in the line of fire, especially when they have no control over it.

Always reminds his team to keep an extra optic out for the little skater.

Speaking of skates, Heatwave actually likes seeing Buddy skate around the bunker.

Especially when they show off some of their tricks.

Buddy is a bit oblivious to why Heatwave is so insistent to them staying with Cody on com job.

Chase and Boulder are confused.

Why does Buddy go to these dangerous places?

They aren’t durable enough to be so close to the danger.

Chase has a separate file on all of Buddy’s incidents.

Chief Burns: “Chase? You, okay?” Chase is typing on a data pad. Chase: “I am simply reporting Buddy’s latest incident on today’s rescue. Today they were stuck in the same tree as Mister Pettypaws… I still wonder how they got up there with their skates…” Chief Burns: “Oh, don’t think too hard about that Chase. That’s just how Buddy is.” Chase: “Do they like danger?” Chief Burns: “No, they just have a bad record of being in places at the wrong time.” Chase: “… I can try to clean their record if you allow me access to them.”

Boulder takes a more direct approach and asks Buddy why they keep going towards danger.

Buddy just shrugs and goes back to their skates.

The green mech decides to ask the others about Buddy’s behavior instead.

Boulder: “Is something wrong with them?” Graham: “Nothing’s wrong with them Boulder.” Boulder: “Then how come they always seem to be near our dangerous missions? Even Cody doesn’t do that too often.” Graham: “When you’ve known them as long as we have, you start believing the phrase ‘wrong place and the wrong time.’ We can’t exactly explain it, but the best we can do is look out for them. No one can control what happens outside Boulder.” Boulder: “Hmm… I guess you’re right.” Later… Chase and Boulder look at their creation with pride. Buddy is wrapped head to toe with bubble wrap. Buddy: “How am I gonna skate like this?” Chase: “Sacrifices must be made Buddy.”

The pair find Buddy’s skating to be interesting and a bit relaxing… as long as Buddy has the proper safety equipment on them.

Buddy doesn’t like the ‘creative’ ways the bots are trying to keep them ‘safe’, but the thought is what counts.

Blades, unlike the others, fully understands the phrase ‘wrong place, wrong time.’

But he also believes an outside force is making Buddy go to these dangerous places.

Already has a bulletin board with the red string trying to figure out what could be making the little skater go to these places.

Blades shows the board to the rest of the bots. Blades: “I’m telling you guys! There’s a connection somewhere!” Heatwave: “… How long have you been working on this?” Blades: “Not important.” Chase: “Blades, is it highly unlikely that something is making Buddy do these things.” Blades: “But if you see what happened last month and 5 months ago—” Boulder: “Blades, when was the last time you recharged?” Blades: “Not important.” Heatwave: “I’m calling Dani.” Blades: "Wait don’t!”

He just doesn’t want Buddy to get hurt by being in places they aren’t supposed to be.

Blades has a separate med kit in his subspace labeled ‘Buddy’s’.

The bot loves Buddy’s skates and has already asked Doc Greene if he could make a pair for him.

Heatwave has tried to stop him from getting these skates too many times to count.

He isn’t known for being the best with balance.

Buddy enjoys Blades making little videos and changing music while they skate around.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #human buddy #rescue bots x platonic reader #rescue bots x reader #rescue bots

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the-s1lly-corner · 2 months ago

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Flufftober prompt 12: Cooking together (Narinder)

i think theres a mosquito in my room because im getting so itchy!! prompt list here plot: you and narinder are assigned to cook for the cult while the lamb is out on a crusade, you ask something that sours the air notes: reader is gn, youre both followers, short fic, you guys are... not quite friends but not quite not friends word count: 868 cws: none

He was more than ashamed to have to ask for assistance on such a simple task, and yet the fact still remained: the former god of death did not know how to cook. At least, he didn't know how to cook anything that was edible. Asking his siblings, of which only a select few had been made to join the cult, was out of the question.

That's what lead to you being approached by Narinder, a look of just barely concealed defeat on his face. The smell of burnt food followed him; and now, you were standing next to him guiding him through the recipe he had been given prior to the Lamb's departure.

"You have the fire too hot, you're going to scorch the meat," You shot a look to him over your shoulder as you prepared the vegetables. He shoots a look back with narrowed eyes. "I know what I'm doing," His voice grumbled. "Clearly not," You muttered back, though out of the corner of your eye you could see him readjusting the heat.

You shook your head to yourself, putting the veggies in a bowl to the side and joining Narinder at the grill. "See, that's a lot better... that's probably where you messed up last time," You said, gently... you'd made the same mistake dozens of times when you were first learning how to cook. Still, Narinder only offered a short huff as you passed the bowl to him. "These just need to sit on the grill for a second, they don't need much,"

The cat only offered a nod before placing them neatly onto the fire, as opposed to the messy tossing you had caught him doing before asking for your help. You gave him his space and got started on cooking the meat, placing it on the grill not too far away from the vegetables. You caught him glancing at you for a moment before turning his attention back to his current task. His fur had begun to raise on the back of his neck, and his movements tense.

"If you want, I can help you whenever... Cooking isn't the easiest, especially since there's so many of us," You offered, a half smile on your face. You didn't want to make him feel like you were taking pity on him, but you still wanted to offer him some help... you could only hope that he understood you as he stared intensely as you. God or follower, his eyes still remained just as intense as they had been when the lamb faced him.

His pupils reduced to slits, before his ear flicked. He didn't say anything as he started to pick the food off the grill to keep them to the side. You gently poked the meat on the grill. You had hoped that extending your kindness would put him at ease, or at least feel...

"Why do you stay in the cult, Narinder?" You let slip, instantly pulling your eyes down to the grill as he snapped his neck to look at you. You busied yourself with the meat, but the air became nearly suffocating with the new found tension. "I mean..." You began, trying to kill the silence. "Sure... you're not exactly treated badly, no one's been overly mean to you exactly- at least no one's tried to fight you," You mumbled.

But not many of the other followers extended any kindness to him, not more than what was an expected courtesy and even then, not all of them bothered to give the former god of death the time of day.

You brought your gaze back to Narinder, finding that his ears lay flattened on his head now- his face unreadable but you could still tell there was no kind thought swirling in his head.

"What further use is there of me?" He hissed under his breath, and that was that.

You turned over what he said in your mind for a moment. It was true, when you forced yourself to think like him. He was once respected and feared, now reduced to a simple follower. What would become of him if he left to go live on his own, without his power? You'd already seen glimpses through some of the passing ridicule you've caught from whispering followers and half hidden side glances.

"Well," You started, pulling the meat off of the grill and passing it off to the fallen god, allowing him to rearrange the food into neat portioned bowls.

"You know how to make food look good," You said, offering another half smile. "And how to cook now, you have that going on for you," You added. "That's two things."

He huffed once more, but it sounded less heavy than the previous. He hung his head, seemingly admitting defeat as he gave it a slight shake. "Not without you," He muttered, placing the bowls of food to the side and alerting everyone that the food was ready. He gave you one last look before the swarm came; for the first time since he had asked for your help, his eyes had softened.

"Thank you," He said, short and just barely above a whisper before he slinked away to consume his share in a secluded corner.

#cotl x reader #cotl x you #cotl imagine #cult of the lamb x reader #cult of the lamb x you #cult of the lamb imagine #narinder x reader #narinder x you #narinder imagine #cotl narinder x reader #cotl narinder x you #cotl narinder imagine #the one who waits x reader #canon x reader #canon x you #x reader

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antiwhores · 2 years ago

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My dock - human!Bakugou x Mermaid!Reader

Part 1?

Part 2

Part 3

Y/n, a curious mermaid with a knack for trouble meets a human named Bakugou Katsuki. Bakugou, a curious human also with a knack for trouble meets a mermaid named y/n. Interspecies relationships- and even friendships are not allowed in the Mer-creature kingdom. And if people found out Mermaids are real then Y/n would be fish food. Love is hard as fuck.

Quirkless au cause im not tryna deal with him rn, eventual smut, near death experience, suggestive themes, violence, multiple parts.

Sorry ive been gone, im depressed and dont find joy in anything anymore LOL

You first met the blonde human when you were swimming near the shore. You obviously went supposed to be doing that but you were curious. You wanted to see humans even though the danger they hold could kill you.

He was walking on a bridge- well, more like stomping. He looked absolutely pissed, red face with steam practically radiating off of him. He was mumbling things under his breath that you couldn’t make out.

You left after a while of watching him, the sun was setting and you had to go home and catch fish.

The next time you saw him he was lounging by a doc in your special spot. Your beach was in the woods, secluded off unless you knew where you were going. There was a round, yet deep swimming area that sparkled a beautiful light blue. There was also a waterfall that was pretty high up. It was a magical place that you were glad to claim.

You watched from behind a big rock as he fed the ducks. He had a whole loaf of bread that he would break off into small pieces to aggressively throw at the ducks.

You called a duck over with a water wave made by your tail. Most mer-creature could talk to a selective few of animal.

“Who is he?” You whispered. The duck cackled, “Just some human boy. He comes here to feed us every day.” You asked for his name but the duck just flapped his wings. “I think his name was Katsu? I dont know, I’ll try to listen in.”

You thanked the duck and let him go fight for his snack.

Katsu? You thought that name rolled nicely off the tongue.

You continued to watch him from secluded areas for the next 3 weeks. You almost got caught a few times. He would hear you speak a little too loud or make too big of a splash and he would yell “WHOS THERE?” It started you enough each time to not come look for a whole day.

One day when you went up to look for him he wasn’t alone. He was at beach side of it this time with a couple other humans. One with red hair, one with green hair, pink hair, and brown hair. You picked up on their names after a while. Kirishima, Midoriya/Deku (?), Mina, and Uraraka. Later on some more named Kaminari and Iida showed up.

You watched them play around and practically beat each other up. Humans are so weird.

Apparently, Katsu lost a bet. Well, you learned his name was also Bakugou, Katsuki, and Kacchan. You’ll stick to Katsu since theres so many.

Kirishima dared Bakugou to jump off of the water fountain. You almost yelped out a protest once Bakugou agreed. It wasn’t safe! There were weeds at the bottom which would grab you and never let go! You had been working on getting rid of them all but there were still a few left.

And just as you thought, once he jumped he was stuck. You watched as he struggled under the grip of the weeds. You couldn’t just let him die! Before you knew it you were swimming over there full speed.

He looked at you threw wide eyes, you could tell he was loosing his breath. He tried to say something but only bubbles came out. You grabbed his face ad signaled for him to open his mouth. He did almost immediately, he must’ve been getting desperate.

You shoved your mouth against his, blowing air into his mouth which he greedily sucked up. You weren’t supposed to do that and you knew you’d be questioned and scolded for even letting a human know you existed. It was called the eternal breath. It allowed him to breath and talk under water with out it being drowned out for up to five minutes depending on how much you blew.

You signaled for him to breath and he gave you a crazy look. His cheeks were flustered and he didn’t know what to do. You hoped that wasn’t his first kiss or something, even though it was yours. You leaned into his ear and whispered, “Trust me Katsu.”

A wave of relief hit you once he did it. He looked at you in bewilderment, “What the fuck?! What the FUCK?!” You flinched but still made you way down to his feet. “You have a fucking tail?! What the fuck is going on?!” You shook your head, “No I don’t.” “What the FUCK!?”

You cut him free with your nails and signaled for him to go. He shook his head, “No! What kind of shit is this?! You have a tail!” You groaned, started to blush at the way he looked at you. He was even more handsome up close like this. “Either you leave or your gonna die in 1 minute once my breath wears out.”

You heard him yell after you once you began to swim away. You hid behind the entrance just to make sure he got up okay. You were on the verge of tears, you could get in so much trouble. What if he’s a bad guy and he’s gonna call his human hunters on you?

You practically gasped when he decided not to tell anyone of you. His friends crowded him, some in tears asking if he was okay. He just swatted them away and told them to fuck off. On that note you left.

You didn’t come back for 2 weeks. You were scared of coming back to traps and spears. The ducks reported to you instead. He has been coming every single day and staying for not just his usual 10 minutes but 3 hours. He sits there studying the water and calling out to any sudden movement from nature.

You couldn’t help your curiosity after that and the next day you showed up to watch him. You watched as he ate from his basket of what you think is called… Fruits? He lounged on the dock with no shirt on. His skin was tanned and golden.

You practically jumped once he called out to you. “Hey!” You dove back behind the rock. He rose to his feet, “No, no, no! Come back!” You slowly peaked behind the rock. He smirked, whispering “I knew you were real” before holding out a red fruit. “I got this for you.”

You came out behind the rock more to study the apple. You hissed at him thinking it was poisonous. He gave you an offended look, “What’re you scared of a fucking apple? Look.” He took a huge bite out of the thing and chewed. You watched closely as he swallowed it. “See?”

You sighed and finally just swam over to him. He sat down right off the edge and held the apple out to you. You quickly grabbed it and swam as fast as you could behind the rock.

You took a suspicious bite, it was… delicious! He chuckled as your face lit up. You took another bite, giving him a quizzical look. “Come here, ill give you another one.” You hesitantly swan over to him. But just as you were about to grab the apple he yanked it above his head. “Tell me your name.”

You glared at him, crossing your arms around your chest. “You can have all my fruits if you tell me your name.” You thought about it for a second. You could be hunted down for this. And you could be in deep shit if the council found out. But for some reason, you trusted this man.

A loud huff came out of your mouth, “y/n.”

#mha x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki x reader #bakugou thirst #bakugo x reader #bakugou smut

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jungkookslipring · 11 months ago

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could you do a bts tickle fic x reader? 💜

ABSOLUTELY

Rap Mon? More Like Tickle Mon

summary: When a lee mood gets the best of you, theres on particular tickle monster who will happily fill your needs

pairings: Namjoon x reader with mentions of ot7

genre: fluff, tickle

relationship: platonic

Being in a lee mood was rough, especially if you were alone. But the worst was when it hit you the hardest when you were at your best friends' house. Would they judge you? Of course not! They've poked and squeezed your side on numerous occasions any time you'd be reaching for a cup in the cupboard or stretching, but the idea of having to ask made you flustered. You knew what Namjoon was capable of because you had watched him wreck the other members, especially the younger ones, and you couldn't help but sometimes feel jealous you weren't on the receiving end.

One particular afternoon you were washing dishes because you were bored and decided to help them out. Namjoon came out of the bathroom and saw you scrubbing bowls with citrusy dish soap.

"You don't have to do that," he whined poking your side as he walked by you. You jumped at the feeling and bit back a grin.

"I'm bored and saw the dishes weren't done, its no big deal" you say, already missing the electric feeling on your side.

"If you're bored let's go do something," Namjoon suggested as he poked you a couple times on your side, attempting to get you to stop what you're doing. You couldn't help but smile as you grabbed a small Tupperware container that you're grateful wasn't glass because Namjoon came up behind you and gently squeezed your sides, earning a small squeal from your lips. You threw your hand over your mouth as Namjoon looked at you over your shoulder with a shocked face.

"I didn't realize how ticklish you were," he said cheekily as he squeezed you again. You dropped the tupperware in the sink and did your best to protect your sides.

"Joohoohoohoon," you giggle as he keeps tight grip on your and keeps squeezing your sides. You yelp as he wraps his arms around your middle and drags you to the living room, gently laying you on the floor before straddling you. He started poking your tummy, smiling as the giggles started flowing. You tried your hardest to cover your sides but you were praying he wouldn't actually stop anytime soon.

"Do you want me to keep going?" he asks suddenly. How tf did he know? You don't know how to answer that question, other than to cover up your face. Namjoon couldn't help but coo and pull your hands away from your flushed face.

"It's not weird, I promise y/n," he said sweetly. After a few seconds, you nod hesitantly, giggling louder than before not too long after when his hands find their way to your tummy, scratching and squeezing your flesh as you roll around as much as you can.

"Ihihihit tickles hehehehehe!" you squeal as he alternates between squeezing your side and squeezing your tummy. Namjoon couldn't help but laugh along with you, seeing how happy this was making you. He settled with light tickles on your sides and tummy for a while until he got a hold of both your wrists in one hand and used his free hand to scratch your ribs. You screeched, not realizing how ticklish you were.

"Ohhhhh is this a bad spot?" he teased as he racked his nails up and down your ribs, smiling at the hiccupy laughter coming from you. Your mind was so floaty from the feeling you didn't feel him lift up your already cropped t shirt and blow a raspberry on your ribs.

"AHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NAMJOON WAIHAHAHAHAHA IT TICKLES SO BAHAHAHAHAD" you screamed as he blew raspberry after raspberry on your ribs, sides, and tummy for God knows how many minutes. Once your laughter became wheezy, he slowed down the tickles and came to a complete stop.

"Hopefully I didn't go too far," Namjoon said moving the hair out of your face. You shook your head as giggles kept flowing.

"I'm okahay...I actually..." you paused. You didn't know if you wanted to say what you were thinking.

"You actually what? Remember I won't judge you," he said reassuringly. You swallowed, its now or never.

"I...I can keep going if you want to," you say, getting ready to cover up your face before Namjoon stopped you.

"I am more than happy to keep you laughing as long as you want," he said so simply yet so heartfelt you wanted to cry. He took your wrists back into his hand and started moving them above your head.

"Is this okay?" he asked, waiting for consent so he wouldn't go too far or make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. You nod and verbally give him the "Okay" before he went to town on your exposed underarms.

"OH MYHAHAHAHAHA GODHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NAMJOONIEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA THATS SO BAHAHAHAHAD" you scream as you buck your hips at the extremely sensitive feeling on your armpit. He kneaded, scribbled, poked, and drilled his fingers and thumb into the sensitive skin for maybe ten minutes before you finally tapped out.

"OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY JOON IM DYING IM DONE IM DONEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" You screech before you stop squirming completely and just melt into the floor, giving in to the tickles that were zapping through your entire body. Namjoon let go immediately and let you curl up on yourself, rubbing away the ghost tickles.

"Thank...thank you Joonie," you pant, blushing from the heavenly tortue you just went through. He smiled and pulled you onto his lap, hugging you tight.

"My pleasure, and please don't be afraid to ask for these types of things, y/n, we are the last people to judge you," he said giving you a friendly kiss on your cheek. From then on if you were in a lee mood, everyone in the house was more than willing to fill the room with your laughter.

taglist: @felixmainacc @felixburneracc @myforevermelody143 @dunno-wut-to-do @itzsana-kiddingmenow

#bts tickle #bangtan #btsedit #run bts #bts army #namjoon #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #kpop tickle #kpop tickling #bts fluff #bts au fic #bts au fanfic

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0littleladybug0 · 11 months ago

Note

maybe if u are still taking requests, a cg!eddie or maybe robin x little readers first Christmas as a little babbbbbbbby

AHH YES OF COURSE!

Cg!Eddie Munson x Little!reader

Summary: Eddie makes sure that his first Christmas with his little one is as special as it can be.

Tags/Warnings: Age Regression, bottle feeding, reader is a small itty bitty baby, fluff fluff fluff, insecure reader for like a microscopic amount, somehow theres always spelling mistakes i cant find so ignore my poor writing and spelling

You had told Eddie about your regression for a fairly recent amount of time. It had only been a few months since he immediately took the role as your caregiver and you both enjoyed every second of it. No matter how many times you dealt with any insecurities about being small, he was there to reassure you how much he truly enjoyed taking care of you.

Which is why he wanted to make this Christmas season extra special for his little one.

He knew how much you loved Christmas and the holiday season, the whole appearance of Christmas and the lead up to it engulfed you in nostalgia and a certain childlike joy and peace.

He made it his mission to make you feel as tiny as possible during the Christmas season, knowing that if big you loved Christmas this much, little you could only love it just as much.

To say that Eddie spoiled you during the holiday season would be an understatement. He always took you out to go Christmas shopping, picking you up treat after treat (his rule about sugars and sweets quickly became less lenient as the holidays went by), and always made sure to pop in a christmas movie in his TV when giving you your night time bottle and cuddles before bed.

Did you think it was strange that Eddie began to baby you a lot more than usual? Maybe a little. But you were too excited about Christmas to detect anything about your boyfriend's behavior.

The whole week you had been updating Eddie every day on how close you were to the magical day, your advent calendar being your prized possession the whole month.

“Daddy!!” You called out from the living room of his trailer.

Eddie rushed in, pot of mac and cheese still in his hand at the sudden call of his name.

“What is it baby?” he asked, kneeling down to our level on the floor as you presented the calendar in his face.

“S’ one more day until Christmas Eve!” you excitedly announced.

Eddie chuckled at your excitement and ruffled your hair. “That's right! I've got such a smart little one.” he praised planting a kiss on your cheek. In the time that Eddie has been your caregiver, you still haven't gotten used to how much little you loved praise, especially from Eddie. He couldn't get enough of how shy you would get at the sudden rush of red that would spread across your face, causing him to praise you any chance he got to see his baby happy.

“Cmon, dinner should be ready soon, and I better not see that door open until after we eat, capisce?” Eddie playfully warned.

“Yes daddy.” You giggled, waddling over to the table as you awaited your dinner.

Soon Christmas eve arrived and now Eddie understood what you meant when you told him how much you loved Christmas. Your Christmas jammies stayed on the whole day and Christmas music stayed on the radio. Eddie thinks putting you to bed that night was the hardest thing he ever had to do. Usually when you were having a hard time sleeping, he liked to put you in little space. He quickly regretted doing that last night when you refused to sleep in his room and stayed up on the couch with a flashlight, claiming you were waiting for Santa.

When Christmas morning came you were just as excited as the past days and Eddie made sure to keep it extra special for you.

It surprised him that you remained big the whole day, he assumed because Christmas was your favorite holiday, you would give yourself some time to regress and enjoy the Christmas cheer. He could tell you wanted to, but there was something blocking you. He made it his mission the rest of the day to destroy whatever was blocking his little baby from coming out.

And as Christmas day began to come to a close, Eddie knew what he had to do. He sat you down on the couch, ordering for you to cover your eyes.

You did as you were told, you covered your eyes with your palms as you awaited for your boyfriend to come back. You opened your eyes at the sound of his sweet voice.,

“Ok, you can open them now.” Eddie said, a cheeky grin beginning to spread across his face.

You opened your eyes and saw another present in his hands.

“Eddie, what's all this? I thought we already exchanged gifts this morning?” You asked, looking at him holding another present in his hands.

“I know, but this is different. I know how much you love Christmas, and I love that you love Christmas, but I want little you to enjoy it too. I don't want you to have to hide during your favorite time of the year. I want you to be able to slip and feel safe knowing that I'll be here to take care of you. You're my little baby, and my baby deserves a good and happy Christmas.” Eddie confessed, pulling you onto his lap cupping one of your cheeks with his hand.

His soft words almost brought tears to your eyes. No one has ever been as kind and gentle as Eddie in your entire life.

“Really?” You ask softly, Eddie already seeing you slip the smallest bit.

“Yes baby.” he lightly chuckled at your attempt to stay big knowing he had already one little you over. “Merry Christmas baby bear.” He smiled, handling over the semi poorly wrapped gift. Eddie was an amazing boyfriend and caregiver, but maybe next year he should leave the wrapping up to you.

You gave him a cheeky smile, knowing that there was no way to stay big anymore as your little space quickly engulfed you. You began to tear open the wrapping paper, exposing a new box with a cute polar bear pattern scattered around the box. Eddie watched the way you bit your lips in concentration as you struggled opening your gift. Finally you had gotten it open with one final “Hmph” and Eddie swears he had never heard a cuter sound than your gasp of excitement.

Inside the box he had packed you a whole gift basket with all of your favorite little treats, accompanied by a new bottle with snowflakes on it, a reindeer stuffie, a new onesie with snowmen on it, and a new red paci with a reindeer in the middle, lettered beads spelling out “Little Dear” on the handle.

“Daddy, I love it!” you squealed at the new goodies in front of you.

“You do?” Eddie asked, making sure he had bought everything correctly. Poor Eddie has been knee deep in finding you the perfect little gear, doing as much research as he could on the bestest brands and stores. His gift left him apprehensive up until you opened it, his worries melting away as soon as he saw how much you enjoyed your gift.

“Yes daddy, I love it all! Thank you thank you thank you!” You squealed, hugging his sides tightly. He returned the tight bear hug, rubbing your back and planting a kiss on the top of your head.

“What do you think, should we try out your new goodies?” Eddie asked, holding up the bottle in his hand and the onesie in the other.

You nodded excitedly. Eddie hadn't bottle fed you many times but it was always something you wished you could do more. Now with your new bottle, both you and Eddie were excited to incorporate it into your night time routine.

Eddie slipped your new paci into your mouth as you smiled happily.

“There's my little baby.” Eddie cooed, kissing you again on your forehead. He just couldn't get enough of you when you were little. Caring for you was his favorite thing to do ever.

He picked you up from the couch, knowing that if he didn't carry you now, you would just start pouring on the couch until he did. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he held you on his hip around the trailer to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed as he rummaged through his dresser.

“Alright baby bear, do you want daddy to change you or do you want to do it yourself?” Eddie asked. You had seen eachother naked and changed in front of each other a plethora of times throughout your relationship, but this was different. You were just a little baby, and Eddie wanted to make you feel comfortable with everything.

“You do it daddy.” You smiled up at him, kicking your feet as they hung from his bed.

“Ok then, arms up!” he said, tugging your sweater uo our arms and off your body, making sure to give you as many kisses and raspberries on your sides and tummy as he could. He couldn't help it, he loved the way you giggled and squealed. He helped you into your new onesie and a pair of his pj pants. You argued that you didn't want to wear any pants but Eddie insisted that you couldn't just walk around the trailer in no pants. So when he offered that you could wear a pair of his, you accepted with your brows furrowed, but Eddie knew your fussiness wasn't serious.

He picked you back up and carried you back to the couch. He wrapped you up in a thick and warm blanket and turned on the Christmas movie channel on the TV before going to the kitchen to warm up your bottle.

He simply couldn't take his eyes off of you and how cute you looked wrapped up in his big blanket, the way you cuddled into your stuffy so gently and how adorable you looked with your new paci. Soon the microwaved beeped, indicating the bottle had finished as he took it out. He poured a drop on his wrist and licked it, testing the temperature to make sure it wasn't too hot for you. He nodded to himself as he approved the temperature and began to walk over to the couch.

Your eyes were glued to the movie on the TV. You didn't even notice Eddie walking back until you felt the indent on the couch.

“Ok, you ready baby?” Eddie asked.

You suddenly became anxious and slightly self conscious. Because bottle feeding had been a new thing for the both of you, you still didn't feel as comfortable as you wanted with it. It was never Eddie's fault, he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible. And being the perfect caregiver that Eddie is, he noticed your change in behavior right away. He placed the bottle on the small lamp table next to him as he laid on the couch, his arms open inviting you in. You happily accepted, moving closer to his side as he held you. You both lost yourself in the movie for a while and Eddie assumed you had gone nonverbal throughout the minutes passing as your talkative state died down and he was left with a cozy and sleepy baby.

When he found the time was right and you had calmed down, he reached for the bottle again. He softly took the paci out of your mouth and held the bottle, waiting for you to accept. Your eyes fluttered at him and in your safe and sleepy headspace, accepting the warm bottle of milk seemed like a dream. Your lips latched slowly and softly on the bottle as you began to drink. You tried to reach for the bottle before Eddie took them, tucking them back into the blanket and around your reindeer stuffie. “It's ok baby, I got it, you don't have to worry, daddys got you.” he reassured.

As you kept sipping, you found yourself cuddling deeper and deeper into Eddie's chest, falling sleepier and sleepier. When Eddie found that you had finished the bottle, he gently removed it from your lips and placed the paci back in to avoid any fussiness in your sleep. He turned the small lamp off but decided to leave the TV on for soft lighting and background sounds to keep you asleep. He kissed your forehead once more and wrapped his arms around you.

“Merry Christmas little one.” He whispered as you two fell asleep in each others arms. Neither of you would have wanted to spend Christmas any other way.

#agere little #sfw agere #agere post #safe agere #sfw little stuff #eddie munson #stranger things #agere story #cg!eddie munson #little!y/n #sfw little post #baby regression

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tavshortfortavern · 1 year ago

Text

Npcs scrolling through your phone

You felt homesick and spent some time looking through pictures on your phone. You got distracted and left said phone out in the open where the tieflings could find it. How they react to looking through your photo album (and see some spicey pics of you)

Characters: Dammon, Rolan, Zevlor

Warnings: none, mention of nudes ig

Notes: Back on my isekai shenanigans. I want to do more with this. Might make a part 2 with companions

Dammon

Absorbs everything he can about Earth. He loves hearing you talk about your home and is fascinated with your phone

When he notices it just laying there he couldn't help but pick it up

Runs his hands around the sleek surface. Admiring the craftsmanship. Many questions running through his head on how it was made, was this glass? The metal feels so smooth

He's tempted to take it apart by peice to understand it

His thumb presses something and the screen lights up. He looks on wide eye as he sees rows and rows of images

You told him enough how you capture images on your device and he recognizes one of him. He figures out how to scroll through the rows of images

There's a lot of pictures of cute animals, he notices with a smile. He doesn't understand the memes tho. He recognizes some of the places you took photos of. He marvels at the detail. Paintings couldn't come close to this

Then he scrolls even longer and he gets to pictures you've taken before arriving in Faerun

It was like looking through memories. He sees you doing various things in different places

He can't help staring at some for longer. You look wonderful in every one. Theres a twinge of affection seeing the random, candid ones of you just doing mundane or silly things

A little more flustered at the ones you pose with a nice outfit and makeup. Looking like some noble at a gathering

If he sees pictures of a city in your world he wonders what those glass 'towers' are and how they're made. They look taller than any structure he's ever seen

An image of the city at night is his favorite. Is this where you live? The lights are mesmerizing. He couldn't imagine seeing it in person. He does believe someone like you lives in a fantastical place like that

Just gets more enthralled with you as a person with all the places you've been and things you've done.

Then he gets to 'those' pictures with you scantily clad or completely nude and he nearly drops the phone

He couldn't help but stare for a few seconds admiring the view before setting it down. Looking around wondering if you've seen him

Feels terrible knowing you hadn't intended to show him that but questions what they're for

Safe to say the image is burned into his mind. He will fess up about it. Apologizing profusely. If you accept his apology he'll quickly turn to ask about your home

Rolan

Was going to scold you for just leaving your things out. What if they were stolen?

Picked up your phone hoping to give it to you but ends up wondering about the odd device.

Startles when it lights up on one end

From the images he thinks it some type of memory viewer. With how detailed the pictures, it's like he was actually there

Then he sees pictures of you and he's drawn in like a moth to a flame. Next thing he knows he's swiping through photo after photo

He rolls his eyes at some of the silly images you took. Hooligan. Skips the memes and focuses on pictures that had you in them

Sees you going about you daily life. The modern world looking alien to his eyes and he doesn't understand what your doing in some of them

But he likes seeing these genuine moments.

He knows what its like leaving your home behind suddenly. Next time perhaps you two could talk more about your life back on your world

Makes an emberassing noise when he sees a nude photo of you and drops it like his hand was burned

Tries to get it out of his mind and continue on his normal day but whenever he sees you the images returns and he fails to act normal

He will eventually tell you what happened and is genuinely sorry about invading your privacy. If you just laugh at his reaction to your nudes he'll just be grumpy

Might call you a degenerate but that won't save him from your teasing

Zevlor

Definitely worried about touching your things. Scared he might damage something

But like Rolan he'll see pictures of you and he's overun by curiosity. He's also fascinated by technology from your world

Is amused at the animals pictures but really drawn to those of you. He wants to know what your life before was like, what you thought, what you like doing

Loves the ones where you look peaceful, laying down somewhere nice and sunny. He's always worried of the danger you get in to or attract. Its lovely to see moments like this

While he's happy looking through these pictures. A part of him is worried you miss your home so much you would rather be there (and away from him)

You had a nice life according to these pictures. You must want to go back.

He understands having to leave the place you grew to care for and being thrust into unfavorable circumstances. He admires how well you've done for yourself in this foreign world, away from everything you've ever known

You have his respect. He's lucky to have ever known you. But he wonders if he's enough to make you stay. Or if he should even want you to instead of supporting your wishes

When he comes across the spicey✨ pictures of you his face turns a deeper shade of red. He's frozen still as a part of him admires the sight before him but another orders him to look away! That's not gentlemanly!

Puts the phone down and feels more guilty than ever. Doesn't know how to bring this up with you but his morals tell him to

Thankfully you find it more funny but now he's really curious of what those pictures were for and how he can stop daydreaming about them so much like some youth

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #bg3 dammon #bg3 rolan #bg3 headcanons #bg3 zevlor #isekai!tav

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donnieisonfire · 17 days ago

Text

Dan from Law,

Phil from Media & Editing

hello ! this is my first dan & phil fic, so enjoy. sorry followers if yall dont fw this.. NO SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER, WILL BE IN CHAP 2.

AO3 LINK

this is NOT a oneshot & will be updated frequently (i actually have chapt 2 quarterly finished as i post this!), i will update this post with links to next chapters at the end as the fic continues.

update : chap 2

Tags ;

office AU, Dan & Phil are NOT YouTubers!, Dan being a coffee SLUTTTTT, Dan getting a lil crush

THE SONG I LISTENED WHILE WRITING THIS :3

Dan woke up, starting his daily rituals. He had been trying to improve himself, half because he wanted to feel less shit, half because he wanted to be appealing enough that someone else would help him feel less shit.

He hadn’t had a relationship since 2019, which was brief and uneventful.

He opened his curtains (of which were basically falling off the shitty rod his landlord wouldn’t fix), hoping to open it to some sun. He knew that was unrealistic. He peered over London from his stupid-expensive apartment’s stupidly-shit window. His view was nothing interesting, at all. It was just buildings, cars. Very corporate, very regular.

He had a brisk shower, long enough to be sanitary but not long enough to the point he has to take out a mortgage to pay his water bill in 3 days.

He got himself ready for work, ready to get in his barely-working car and drive to his barely-paying-the-bills job. And he done so.

He drove, parked and trudged into the building. He looks at the mini Costa Coffee in the lobby lovingly, but decides not to treat himself as he didnt get paid for another 6 days and was living off of off-brand pot noodles. Instead, he steps into one of the 4 elevators in the lobby.

Theres a few people in the elevator with him. He gives a small nod at them as he enters. He presses the ‘7’ button, there was many other buttons already lit up.

His eyes surveyed the small group alongside him in the elevator, trying to see if there was anyone off of his floor - but he couldn’t recognise anyone.

There was an overweight short woman with greying hair, she was 5’4 maybe, a tall blonde man who was staring down at his phone, hm, and a man in a business suit who looked like an outsider here for a meeting possibly.

After around a minute, he gets to his floor and steps out. He wasnt the last, he had been stranded alone with the suit man for a floor or two now. Dan gives him a small, straight-lined smile as he steps out.

He walks towards the kitchen that was shared between floors 6 to 9 and begins to grab for his favourite mug - a faded mug with some star-wars quote on it.

When he couldnt feel it where he put it the day previous, he furrows his eyebrows. He focuses more on finding his mug, digging through the cupboard, getting at least 3 weird stares from others.

Whatever, someone could’ve just…not known it was his…although it did have his name scribbled on the bottom in sharpie. They might not of looked, it’s whatever. He’ll get it back eventually. Even if he’d prefer to get it back now.

He grabs a napkin and a nearly ran out BIC pen from a pocket in his trousers. He scribbles ‘If star-wars mug found, please return to Dan Howell from law, office 324’ on the napkin, ripping it in multiple places, and leaves it in the mug-cupboard.

He grabs some plain one, one he knew was unclaimed (because he checks, like a normal human being…) and made his coffee.

He takes a sip, burning his lip in the process, but, hey, he was caffeinated, could he complain? Yes, he could, he wants his Star Wars mug back. Twat.

He walks to his cubicle and gets to work once his cup is secured on his desk. He was a bit ticked off about his star-wars mug, but he puts it to the back of his mind as he begins to draft up an email for his client he was helping currently.

About 2.5 hours later, theres a knock at his ajar cubicle door. He looks up, “Come in.” he says, his voice a bit too posh for his liking (it always got like that if he was surprised with the dreaded human interaction.)

He recognises the man who steps into his cubicle, and he recognises the mug he’s holding even more. It was the tall blonde man from the elevator, and it was his beloved mug.

“Hi, sorry, uhm..” The man starts, Dan’s eyes are focused up at him, locking onto the man’s own. “I didn’t know there were claimed mugs, I only started last week. Here’s your mug.” He says, putting out his hand with the mug. Dan could see his passive-aggressive napkin/note in-between the blonde’s fingers. “Ah, or would you rather I put it in the sink in the kitchen?” He interrupts himself and pulls his arm back.

Dan just looks up at him dotingly, before he extends his arm and taking his mug back into his safe confines (his hands). “It’s fine here, Yoda has had more than enough travel for today.” Dan slaps himself mentally once he says that, that seemed twat-ish. He clears his throat.

The blonde man nods softly, “I’m Phil. From Media and Editing. Sorry, uhm...” He splutters his sentence off, continuing it once he glances at the napkin again. “Sorry, Dan from Law, office 324.” Phil adds, finishing off his sentence as he begins to turn to leave Daniel’s cubicle.

“Nice to meet you, Phil from media and editing.” Dan says before Phil leaves earshot.

Phil. Simple name. Although, Dan had a feeling Phil maybe wasnt too simple.

#dan and phil #phandom #phan #blonde phil my beloved #phil lester #phillip lester #dan howell #daniel howell #dan howell x phil lester #daniel howell is a coffee hoe #office au #blonde phil #phannie #phannies #Spotify

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dang-orange · 2 months ago

Text

dang-orange makes a list of characters he'd shake inside a glass jar:

i decided to be insane while i wait for the Methylphenidate pill to hit (i was thought to have adhd and still have some leftovers from trying to treat that) so i can study. so i made a list of what i think are kins? i refuse to look up what that actually means so im going by the context that a thousand years of reading tumblr posts on pintrest gave me.

Okay! so:

Kinger is a new one, he seems like such a funny silly guy who is kind of out of it, something i absolutely get! so he goes there.

Izzy Hands has been a cause of insanity for me since season one, but season two got me worse. what a funny fellow. i get the whole being a tryhard thing, and sort of losing it a bit over having to change your ways. havent had to eat own my toes, lost a leg or done drag while singing in french, so those things i just find amusing.

Peter B. Parker! what a funny guy, i didnt expect him to actually come back on the second spiderverse movie. being a cool mentor is something admirable i think, and the scene with aunt may made me spend way too many hours on ao3 as i thought that could have been more of a thing (in my head the movie would have done well as a series, more time to explore the really cool characters they had). Also: him being a version of spiderman ''were things didnt go well'' that doesnt go in a morbid direction is very baller.

Doctor Twobrains i only know of from fandom osmosis. i did watch the series as a kid, but i really cant remember shit. the rat brain is funny, and i love anything involving inventors with a theme (i had to fight myself a few too many times to not include doofenshmirtz). the manerisms and vibe are very silly, the excentricities vibe with me.

Agent Stone was the only reason i watched the sonic movie. i saw a trailer and thought, huh i dont think i remember ever seeing this fellow on anything sonic. turns out, he was a new character and very, very funny. what a guy! i can imagine going that far being a henchman. i, however, do have a deep hatred against the guy that does robotnick, so i havent seen much else other than the first film (that i very much pirated).

Pyro is such a mistery. they just burn things and act jolly, the whole pyroland thing is also so stupid. i mained him when i played tf2, but for now i just save fanart of her burning shit and think about how cool it'd be to have a full body suit, be unintelligible and get to burn stuff. absolute 10/10.

Hazel from The Umbrella Academy was fun while he lasted. The idea of being a time traveling mercenary and still getting shitty hotel rooms is hilarious to me. made me really want to get suspenders, but i dont think that'll happen.

Scar (from Hermitcraft) is such a chaotically silly guy. i wish i could pull that off. going from scam, to huge incredible creations, to changing allies on a dime, to playing games by any other rules than the ones stabilished? i wish i could do that! btw the fanart is by reddit user dead_cricket_ (i didnt want to use a minecraft skin but wanted to make sure that I AM TALKING ABOUT THE FANON CHARACTER NOT THE REAL DUDE THAT MAKES VIDEOS)

Elliot Gussman from The Umbrella Academy was also fun while he lasted. i also have some really, really weird paranoia problems and would act the same if i had alien strangers in my house. there isnt a lot of fandom stuff on him, as he's such a minor character, so i just juggle a few too many head canons on this silly guy.

Aziraphale. hehe. haha. im absolutely normal about this guy. being an angel and having the ideology of heaven hammered into your head, and complying with things you know you shouldnt because you know the consequences and that theres someone all-seeing always watching you? i get that 100%. Two other things: the constant forced smiles that are clearly unnatural and doing silly things you know you arent good at are also relatable.

i really like Abner Krill. this is so long already, but i just, really like him. i wish he didnt get killed, that movie is my favourite and i wish it could get a sequel. i'll be short on the whole thing by saying that being the weirdest one on a bunch of batman villans is very funny, and his powers are very fucked up in a cool way.

Oswald Cobblepot was the only reason i saw Gothan. him going from just a guy to.. The Penguin?? absolutely crazy. i really got the whole bit where he was getting higher on the crime scene by biting small bits and getting big results.

I could write 20.000 words on each of these, but this formatting is ass and i think the Methylphenidate is working (it's been a bit more than 40 minutes between writing and looking up images that werent so bad), so i should go study/work. if anyone wants me to go insane again, dont worry! i absolutelly will. i made an account here for a reason.

#tadc kinger #izzy hands #peter b parker #dr two brains #agent stone #tf2 pyro #hazel tua #gtwscar #elliot gussman #elliot gusman tua #aziraphale #abner krill #oswald cobblepot #jesus my eyes are burning but i feel so happy getting this out of my chest i have never written or talked about fandon with anyone #my hands are tingling with joy #kin list

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reidmania · 5 months ago

Text

STILL | spencer reid

summary ; loosing based off still by niall horan. You and spencer broke up and when you see him at a bar a month later everything comes back.

warnings; this is long pure angst with a (?) happy (?) hopeful ending. imma say female reader because there so many little things that indicate that. hella miscommunication, arguing, drinking, jealous spencer, i think its a happy ending idk tbh, let me know if i missed anything

a/n ; this is 4k words. i did not intend that at all, i honestly got so insanely carried away. im so sorry.

You regretted everything, in this moment more than any other. You didn't know how you were possibly stupid enough to be dragged into going out tonight. When your coworkers approached you with the idea of going out for drinks after work as a way to celebrate your promotion, you shouldn't of let yourself get sucked in. It took some convincing till you eventually gave in, but you did -- give in.

Going home to change may not have been the best idea, since it gave you enough time to realise what you were doing and how much you really didn't want to go but you knew your coworkers wouldn't accept your cancelation. So instead you made yourself look presentable, good even.

Things had been difficult to say the least over the last month, while things at work were great, mentally everything was horribly. It had been a month since you and Spencer broke up. A month since the last time the two of you talked.

He had called a few times, but you could never bring yourself to answer despite how badly you wanted to talk to him, some night you would spend hours unable to sleep, staring at his contact, although you never went through will calling him, too scared he wouldn't answer.

Once dressed you left, calling an uber because you knew it was a bad idea to even take your car -- the whole point was to drink, and you would need to drink. As much as you loved your coworkers, you could only handle so much social interaction without liquor in your system.

Arriving, you noticed the group of your coworkers waiting for you outside. You pushed a smile to your lips as you approached them. You had many coworkers of course, but you had your bunch who you worked with closely, the ones here with you now.

Elise was your work best friend, you and her worked side by side everyday. She was the one who convinced you to come out. Ethan was another one who you worked with closely, but weren't nearly as close with. Frank was older, he was almost like the father of your job, and then there was Chelsea who was literally franks daughter, she was nice, easy to get along with.

"Theres they are!!" Elise said excitedly, you appreciated the way they all dressed up. You were met with a bundle of flowers, being held out by Ethan. "We got you these, as a congrats present" He smile.

You're entire face warmed as your chest did too. You were lucky to be surrounded by a group of people who cared as much as they did. "Aw, Thank you guys." You smiled widely as you took the flowers, not knowing what you were going to do with them inside the bar -- but you figured you'd worry about that later.

You followed them inside the bar, instantly finding a table. Everything sunk into place, everyone talking and chatty after ordering drinks and a round of shots, -- it was great.

But there was something missing.

You tried not to think about it as you swirled your straw around your glass, filled with alcohol. "You look bored" You turned your head to face Elise. You pushed a soft chuckle pass your lips, shaking your head.

"Im not bored" You denied, because you weren't. You were just waiting and hoping that the pit of empitiness in your stomach would disapear so you could enjoy yourself. She frowned, "Come on, Lets go get shots" She said, offering her hand which you took gracefully.

As you walked over to the table where your coworkers were sitting at to find out if they also wanted another round of shots or not, Elise grew sidetracked, helping Chelsea out with the zipper of her dress that was breaking.

"Ill come with you" Ethan opted, making you smile gratefully as you thanked him. The two of you wandered through the bar, through the crowd of people before you finally reached the bar.

You and ethan made small talk as you waited for the bartender. When he finally came, Ethan ordered. A round of tequila shots. The bartender nodded, it was busy -- so he was doing everything fast. "I am not drinking tequila!!" You gasped as you looked at Ethan.

"Yeah you are" He smiled back.

The smile stayed on your face, "Tequila makes me sad" You said honestly. He pouted dramatically, although you can tell it was sarcastic. "Well we cant have that" He sighed just as dramatically, "I promise if you do get sad, we will make sure to cheer you up"

You smiled but couldn't help but doubt his words -- you knew what you'd get sad about, and you weren't sure anything he did would cheer you up from a sadness like that. The one you could feel in your whole body, every movement.

"Important night?" The bartender asked, as he poured the shots. You went to deny it, not wanting the attention but Ethan spoke before you could. "Yep" He said popping the P, "Pretty girl here got a promotion" He said, squeezing your shoulder softly.

You forced out a chuckle as the bartender congratulated you. Pretty girl was the nickname your coworkers had given you -- it was teasing at first and it started from Elise, but it kind of just stuck.

You got your shots and walked back through the bar holding the tray carefully, as you returned to the table you immediantly got a bad feeling in your stomach, something was off, something was wrong. You could see it in Elise's face as she looked at you.

"What?" You chuckled, furrowing your eyebrows as you placed the tray down on the table. She looked almost guilty, as she shook her head, brushing it off. "Nothing" She said, reaching out for a shot.

Your concern and confusion only grew. "What?" You asked again, there was obviously something wrong. You noticed Chelsea looking in a certain direction, the same direction Elise's eyes kept drifting over to.

Your eyebrows furrowed deeper as you turned your head to look in the direction they were, despite Elise' protests. You almost wish you listened. You felt your entire heart sink.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you locked eyes with him -- Spencer Reid. He was already looking at you when you turned your head. You stomach dropped so far you swore you could feel in in your pinky toe.

You heard your name, but you could hardly pull your eyes away from him. He looked good. So good it made your head spin in a million different directions at once. Hearing your name again you finally pulled your eyes away from his, turning your head to face Elise who had concern lacing her features.

"Oh- Gosh- Are you okay?" She rushed.

You felt like your chest had been stepped on. You didn't say anything, instead reaching for the shot glass that remained, and downing it instantly. "I need to get drunk." You muttered.

"Whos that?" Ethan asked, he wasn't quite as caught up in your love life as Elise and Chelsea were. Chelsea scoffed. "Her ex, He is an ass" She said, Elise was quick to nod in agreement. Frank stood minding his own business, but you knew he was listening, he was always listening.

"He's not" You defened, because he wasn't. If there was an ass in the breakup, it was you. You weren't sure what sucked more.

Before Chelsea or Elise could say anything you spoke first, "Can we go get more drinks-- and move closer to the bar, I think ill be going there a lot" You muttered, grabbing the boquet of flowers you had been given.

Everyone was quick to agree, taking their stuff before finding an empty table closer to the bar.

You did exactly as you thought you would -- 4 drinks later, you were a lot mor tipsy but nothing seemed to take the pressure off your chest or cool the heat that Spencer eyes left on you everytime you looked over to see him already looking.

When everyone was engrossed in coversation you excused yourself to the bar, feeling the need for another drink or ten. When you literally asked for the most alcoholic drink possible, the bartender laughed but agreed.

"Congraulations" You swore your heart dropped at the voice. Your hands froze in place and you could feel the sweat building on the back of your neck. You turned your head, finally facing him.

Your eyes ran over his features -- his hair had grown out, it looked good. You wanted to tell him that but you couldn't. "H-How do you.." You wondered how he knew about your promotion, you were sure it hadn't been posted anywhere.

He rolled his eyes, nudging his head towards the table where your coworkers sat, you turned you head to look at them, noticing Ethan's and Elise's eyes on you and Spencer. "Your boyfriend isn't exactly quiet." He muttered, there was something spiteful about the way he spoke.

You whipped your head around to face Spencer, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before the realistion dawned on you -- He had heard Ethan tell the bartender about your promotion earlier. "He isn't my boyfriend--Why do you even care." You huffed.

Spencer scoffed quietly, "Yeah Im sure, The flowers and 'pretty girl' really prove that" His tone was laced with jealously. He was jealous. You shook your head as you pulled your eyes away from his face. "It's been a month" He muttered, quieter.

You frowned at the mention at how long it had been since the two of you broke up. "I am well aware of how long its been" You held back from calling him Spence, it was like muscle memory. "The flowers were from all of them" You defended, although there was no reason you needed to defend nor explain yourself to him. "And pretty girl- its a joke-- they all call me that." You muttered.

"I called you that."

His tone still held so much jealously but sounded so much sadder. It made your stomach clench on nothing but the alcohol you had consumed, you turned your head to face him before looking away again, unable to handle the way his expression pulled on your heartstrings.

"I know" You said just as quietly.

The bartender handed you your drink with an apology of how long it took -- you hadn't even noticed. Drink now in your hands yet you couldn't find it in yourself to move. You could smell Spencer's cologne and it was consuming your senses and making your mind fog.

Spencer ordered his own drink after the bartender asked, before he turned to look at you again. "I called." He said.

You wanted to cry-- you wanted to sink into the pit in your stomach and stay there forever. You felt yourself grow dizzy -- he made you dizzy. "I know" You said quietly, scared if you spoke any louder your voice would give out on you. it broke your heart to be standing here next to him, when he had no idea you loved him, when you had no idea if he ever loved you-- let alone if he still did.

He didn't say anything, you assumed it was because he didn't know what to say. He knew you were actively ignoring his calls-- What was there to say to that.

Spencer got handed his drink, he muttered a quiet thanks, but made no movement to leave his place next to you, you didn't either. Neither of you said anything. You felt as if your feet were glued in place -- although you weren't sure if you wanted to move either. It had been a month since you had seen him, and as much as it gutted you to think about, you didn't want to leave yet just incase this really was the last time.

"He isn't my boyfriend, he- he isn't anything more than a friend." You said again, although you didn't look at him, keeping your head down as you sipped your drink through your straw. You didn't need to push so hard for him to understand -- but the last thing you wanted was for Spencer to think you had moved on that quick, it almost offended you that he genuinely believed you did.

He opened his mouth to reply, but felt a hand on his back, cutting him off. He looked behind him to see Derek. "What's taking so long, Reid" He asked, a teasing smile on his face. You looked behind you at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes his smile fell slightly as he realised what was taking Spencer so long.

"Hi derek" You pushed a smile to his lips - of course Spencer was here with his team, you should've realised that. They probably just got back from a case, which explained Spencer's business attire, but he wore that more often then not anyways.

"Hey!! How are you doing!" He smiled back, opening his arms to hug you gently. It was friendly a simple. You were close with a lot of Spencer's friends and team, being his plus one to everything for months. Penelope had reached out after you and Spencer broke up, but just like with Spencer you couldn't bring yourself to reply.

"Im okay, how are you?" You asked. You could feel Spencer's eyes on your face and it left a burning sensation where his eyes laid as you pulled away from Derek's hug. "Im good! We've missed you around shortcake" It was a nickname, because of a strawberry shortcake shirt you had worn one time when out with Spencer.

You just smiled in response. You missed them too, a lot. They were your friends, and you hated how you lost that and Spencer all at once, but they were his friends first. "I'll leave you guys be." You muttered, forcing a smile to your lips as you avoided Spencer's gaze, pushing off the bar.

Spencer said your name and it made your head spin, it felt so natural falling from his lips, like it belonged there. If you had to pick only one person to say your name for the rest of your life, it would be Spencer.

You kept walking none the less, holding your drink in your hand as you approached the table. You put it down gently as Chelsea and Elise were instantly at your side, asking what happened or if you were okay.

"I think Im going to go home" You muttered as you felt the all familiar tingle in the bridge of your nose, matching the lump in your throat and burn in the back of your eyes. It was too much.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Frank asked, the fatherily instincts coming into play when he noticed the look on your face -- there was no convincing you to stay. You just shook your head, "Im okay, Thank you" You muttered, as you began grabbing your stuff.

"I'll walk you out" Ethan offered, but you were quick to shake your head. You didn't need to look to know Spencer's eyes were on you from across the bar, the last thing you wanted was to only deepen his concern by leaving with Ethan. "I really just want to be alone." You said, pushing a half hearted smile to your lips, he frowned but nodded.

You said your goodbyes before pushing through the people in the bar towards the door. Once outside, it dawned on you how hot you were, the cold air giving your flushed cheeks a cooling sensation. You dragged your hand over your face as you tried to process what had just happened without bursting into tears.

You opened the uber app on your phone, wanting to get home to wallow in every emotion you had been pushing down for the last month. You should've known tonight was going to end badly.

"Theres been over 3,900 cases of sexual assult or physical violence from ubers"

You turned your head to see Spencer standing at the door to the bar, not far from you but not close. The street wasn't busy, it was dark and only lit by the streetlights.

"Thats less than one percent" You muttered, pulling your gaze away from him. "Who said I was getting an uber?" You asked, despite the fact that you were, it baffled you how he seemed to know everything all the time.

"You're alone, I cant see your car anywhere and the app is open on your phone" He said as if it was nothing. He was a profiler for godsake, of course he picked up on the tiniest things.

You sighed, closing your phone you placed it in your bag, "So what?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest - now that the heat had somewhat worn off the cold air was leaving goosebumps over your arms.

"So, let me drive you home." He said.

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him, shaking your head. "No. Its fine. I think I can handle less than one percent" You muttered, turning away from him again when the heat began rising to your cheeks again under his gaze.

You could hardly handle standing a foot away from him, you doubted you would be able to last a ten minute drive back to your house in the car next to him, you were sure the tension would suffocate you within seconds.

"Why do you do that" He asked taking a step closer to you. You were already resting with your back against the wall, there was no where for you to back away to even if you wanted to. You furrowed your eyebrows as you met his eyes, he looked sad.

"Do what?" You asked as your voice hitched, the pit in your stomach only deepening the more you looked at him, the closer he got the tighter your chest grew, the more he spoke the more your cheeks heated.

He sighed, "Push me away!" He raised his voice slightly, not in a way of anger but pure frustration. He was so frustrated.

"I don- We broke up Spencer" You reminded.

He rolled his eyes, "I know that. Trust me I know that." He muttered under his breath as he got closer to you. "You did it our entire relationship, pushed me away, held back, and then you broke up with me, why do you do that?" He said, brows furrowed as he genuinely tried to understand.

"You know why we broke up" You muttered quietly.

He threw his arms up in distress. "No- I really don't-" He said, before dragging his hand through his hair, only making it messy. You frowned, shaking your head as you reminded him. "We were both busy -- we hardly saw each other, our heads were in different places" your voice raised to the same level as his

"My head was with you!" He shook his head, "My head was always with you!" He sighed, he wasn't shouting, not really, but it was loud enough to match your level.

Your lips parted but you didn't have anything to say. Your head was spinning at the intensity of the coversation, at him -- so close, his cologne and after shave making your stomach feel sickly.

"I thought-" You ran your hand over your face as tears brimmed your eyes.

"You thought, you didn't ask me-- you just- broke up with me" He was shouting now. You genuinely thought your heart had fallen out of your chest. "You pushed me away, and then left like it meant nothing, like it all meant nothing." His voice was breaking with every word as his voice rasied

"It didn't- i didn't think it meant nothing" You were shouting too, and tears ran down your face -- you were unable to help it, each drop hotter and heavier than the last.

"Just be honest, I just- I just need you to be honest, please" He was on the verge of tears himself, and you hated it. You hated the way his voice was breaking, the way his hand was grabbing his shirt, pressing against his chest as if this conversation was bringing him physical pain-- like it was to you.

"You want me to be honest?" You asked, you were now the one stepping closer to him, you were the one shouting -- not out of anger, but you couldn't better express the way this conversation was all consuming every part of your body, your mind, your stomach, your chest.

"I love you Spencer" Your voice cracked as the words came out, "I love you so much, it hurts. It physically hurts when you are gone, when I was spending everyday worrying you weren't going to come home, I love you so much that I thought me worrying about you was unfair because you love what you do, and I was constantly in the way of that. I love you so much that i thought if i broke up with you, you'd be happier -- I thought the how much I loved you would stop hurting." you were practiclly sobbing, you would have been embarassed if you mind was able to focus on anything other than the boy in front of you.

"It didn't, its actually gotten worse because everyday I wake up and your not there, and I still worry about you just as much -- more, i worry about you more. Everyday I wake up and im completely heartbroken. God everyday I wake up and Im still inlove with you, " You continued on your tangent, "I love you so much Spencer"

You didn't even have time to breath before you felt cold hands on either side of your face and the feeling of his lips on yours, you could taste the alcohol on his lips. It was familiar and safe and warm. Your hands found their way to his face, pulling him in closer to you. The kiss was messy and passionate and everything you had missed so much, it was the sort of kiss that made every thought in your brain disapear, it made your knees feel weak and your toes curl in your way to uncomfortable shoes.

You tried to pull away but his lips chased yours, bring you back into him and you didn't make any movement, only kissing him back until you ran out of air, feeling lightheaded. You stepped out of his grasp as you tried to regain balance.

"Ill teach, its not an issue i've wanted to teach, god ill stop working all together if it means you'll come back" He said out of breath, eyes never leaving yours. You opened your mouth but he cut you off. "I love you, I've loved you since the day that I met you." he was huffing out words as he stepped back closer to you, invading your space and you couldn't complain.

"I don't- I don't want you to have to do that, you love working." you said breathlessly, shaking your head. You didn't want your relationship to mean him stop doing what he loved.

"I want you" He said, voice cracking. "I love my job but I love you." He said it like he couldn't get enough of finally saying it. "I'll work it out so you can come everytime we have a case, please I love you" He was begging.

"What does this mean Spence" You said, heart beating out of your chest. He just shook his head. "Who cares! I love you, You love me. I will do anything, just.. stay - let me stay." He said, grabbing your hand.

"I love you" You repeated.

"I love you" He said back.

"Where do we go from here?" You ask, looking up at him with squinted eyes, you were sure your makeup was a mess, and you looked horrible but there was so much love and hope in Spencer's eyes you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

"Let me drive you home." He said. You knew that meant it was the beggining. You knew he meant that he didn't know but he wanted to try. He was begging and there was no way you were going to let him go again.

"Okay."

#criminal minds #criminal minds show #criminal minds x reader #criminalmindsfans #spencer criminal minds #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds one shot #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid one shot #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort

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fandomfluffandfuck · 3 months ago

Note

i havent seen the inside of your ask box for ages so let me just say i finished money magic and WOAH. leave some talent for the rest of us damn. also. im going to add ‘financial domination’ to my mental list of kinks and im doing it with a sly smirk on my face because id never heard of it before this fic and i certainly will be looking for more in the future.

i genuinely think im into it only because you write it so. fucking. well. i love this community youve built where so many people can discover new kinks through your writing and it makes me so happy being able to find out new things about myself from a piece of art like this. i just love fandom sometimes.

plus i think of your blog as a haven bc i can come here anytime i want and its like someone took all the things i love about fandom and put it through your brain then onto here. a true blessing.

ok onto the fic itself, i have a few things to say:

1) i will never get over the way you build up to the climax of the fic. like, from the beginning, its always so obvious that something big is going to happen and i just can never wait until the next update to find out. i dont think ive ever skim read one of your paragraphs because every word pulls me in a makes me want moreee.

2) the way you use imagery in your work is actually something i think should be studied because you do it SO WELL. an example from chapter one that i cant stop thinking about;

His mind whirls. He’s back to spinning out of control. It feels as though his head might come off his shoulders, twisted and twisted and twisted around, thinning his neck, and becoming too unsteady.

like hello???? i can picture every tiny little detail of this moment and its insane how you can just do that.

3) the chemistry between your characters never feels forced or awkward. ive noticed that you dont use dialogue too much when writing smut and i love that because it lets the reader really visualise whats going on. but when you do its absolutely perfect. the way you kept the power dynamics going steadily throughout and even when they were talking on the balcony, it just made me realise how much you really care about what you write and it made reading so much more enjoyable.

theres literally like a million other things i could say but im not gna ramble here. instead, take some snippets that i especially enjoyed that i will think about for a long, long time:

A shiver wracks Steve’s body, accompanied by a rough exhale that fills his bedroom—a confession of how much he’s enjoying this by its very nature.

Steve shivers so hard it might as well be a convulsion. Good. The way his words leave no room for argument, for thought, for anything but all this electric embarrassment to fill his veins and circulate throughout his body, polluting him tip to tail. Jesus. He commands all of Steve without being there. It’s heady. He can feel himself being pulled in like a sailor, lonely after months at sea, to a siren.

A moan comes tumbling out of his mouth, humiliated to the point that he feels dizzy. He couldn’t stand and walk straight if he tried, he’d stumble and fall onto his knees. He wants to stumble and fall and have Bucky push his heavy hands into his hair, he wants to feel the cold metal of his rings and the blunt sharpness of his fingernails against his scalp as he grabs and pulls and twists, making sure Steve feels his place.

Steve imagines this is what being a pinata feels like, struck hard enough that it's twirling around its point of suspension, unable to know what’s up or down, left or right, just focused on each hit and when the next one is going to come, then, ah!, all of the sudden spilling its bounty.

i could put the whole fic here but you know. that’d be too long. ill just have to hope what ive said here is enough.

bottom line is that im OBSESSED and i will be taking the pleasure of rereading this fic as soon as i can. thank you so much for sharing!!! lots of love 💗

"Money Magic"

YOU ARE SO SWEET, ARCHIE!

Thank you, lovely <3

I'm so glad to hear that you finished that fic, and, more importantly, that you enjoyed the read so much! You're too kind. Haha, I'm hitting you again with the kink discovery. I think if I can't find a job (a scarily real threat, lmao), I can make a job of that alone 💀💀 I, too, though, am going to be looking for more of it! I haven't found anything else with fin domming in stucky fics, but I would love to!

I'm honored that it's even a possibility that you'd just be into it because of the way I write it <3 Me too!! I love the absolute filth I can write and people not batting an eye, aside from horny reactions that I enjoy very much. Thank you. Plus, even better, so many people have come into my inbox to say depraved, kinky shit. Like. YES. Discover more kinks from me, tell me more about your kinks, and let's explore it all. Not you calling my porn writing art

(Like, absolutely, porn is art. Art inspires emotion, and horny is a valid emotion. I wholeheartedly believe that and would very readily call lots of other writers erotica art, but hearing that about my own? Wtf. Shits wild)

And calling my blog a haven?! Staaawp. You're too cute and nice, I can't take it

1) Ah! I'm so glad to hear that 'cause I plan out my fics EXTENSIVELY, lmao, and I try very hard to up myself consistently within my longer, chaptered fics.

2) You are so fucking sweet I am gonna scream. Oh my god!! I love how you pulled quotes from my text! What the hell??? That's so nice!

3) Thank you, thank you, thank you!! I feel like I use a lot of dialog 💀💀 That's probably because I think so hard about my dialog, though, lol. I do care, definitely. I care too much sometimes 😅 but, yeah, I try to always think, okay, but would the character actually ever say or behave like that? Both this AU character, but also the canon character because the AU is, of course, a canon extension/expansion.

Aww, I don't have words (which is saying something for me, haha)! Again, though, I love, love, love that you included snippets that stuck out to you!

YOU'RE SO SWEET!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND THANK YOU FOR SUCH WONDERFUL COMMENTS ALONG THE WAY!

#asks #whiteglovemanor #lovely people

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kichikichiko · 2 years ago

Text

"Thats my girl"

YALL IVE BEEN GONE FOR TOO LONG MY BAD. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while so I decided to finish it 😴😴

Wanderer x fem!reader , suggestive a bit, violence, threats from wanderer, a bit ooc, not proofread

♡♡♡♡

The pure shock plastered on his face says it all.

One of the students of the akedamiya rushed to Wanderer and told him, in a frenzy how youve gotten yourself into a fight.

Wanderer stood there for a few seconds before tilting his head down and frowning "You better not be shitting with me Akeem."

Wanderer hated many things, ranging from insects to humans but if theres 1 thing he hated most, was someone using your name to get him to lower his guards, and apart of him cant fathom you getting into a fight.

You sometimes spoke too loud or too little, smiled a lot and is always willing to help everyone (ew people pleaser 😨😨😨😨❗️❗️❗️). Confrontation was so not something he considered to be a thing you'd do, let alone getting into a fight.

Akeem shaked his head and waved his arms around, showing he wasnt joking "No no Im serious! There was a comotion on the streets so went to check it out. I saw (name) fighting verbally with Halima, sooner or later it would turn into a physical fight-"

Wanderer stormed off in an instant, didnt bother to listen to the rest of Akeem's story, hell knowing Akeem his story would probably take all day to finish. Wanderer wasted no time to find you.

Wanderer was worried you'd get hurt, yet he knew he could trust you to defend yourself to an extent before he comes and saves you.

His eyes scanned the area in a hurry, hoping to catch a glimps of your hair or face or hear your voice from any direction. Lucky for him he heard your voice pretty quickly coming from behind, and he ran. For this once your loud voice was useful well... other than to scream out his name

As soon as Wanderer arrived he saw you holding Halima's arm shouting "say it again! I want to hear it! No no no dont you shy away! You could say it loud n clear the first time Im sure you can say it again but this time for everyone here to hear!"

"Get away from me you sick bitch!" Halima shouted yanking her arm away, raising a hand to slap you.

Before her hand could reach you a familiar hand took ahold of hers and dragged her away.

"Wanderer..." in awe you looked at him. He was pissed, extremely pissed, and you can see it in his face.

He started, voice low "keep your hands off of her you insect. Unless you want to die then by all means go ahead, but as any idiots Ive dealt with Im sure you wouldnt want that" letting go of her arm, Halima took a step back glancing at you with tears in her eyes before running away.

You looked back at him knowing he'll yell at you once you get home or maybe here on the streets. Before you could say a word, he dragged your arm away from the crowd and sped walked home.

"Wanderer-"

"Shut it (name). Dont say a word."

After a while youve reached the front door to your house.Everything went by so fast because suddenly Wanderer pinned you to the wall inside your home and slammed his lips against yours. It didnt take long for you to melt in the kiss.

After a while you pulled away and looked at him, "youre not mad?"

"Mad? Why would I be? I think that was hot. Are you hurt anywhere (name)?" Wanderer asked, cupping your cheek and caressed it.

"No Im not hurt.. dont worry. She just said some insufferable things about you and it made me mad. I guess I went a bit overboard..."

He laughed and kissed your neck "nah, do it again. How bout we take this to the bedroom?"

You moaned softly and nodded.

"Thats my girl"

♡♡♡♡

Yall fucked at the end yall know tht rite 💀

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #fanfic #genshin imagines #x reader #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #genshin scaramouche

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sandandstarz · 2 years ago

Text

Packaged Deal

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Content warnings: Fighting, swearing, gunshot wound, death, all that fun stuff

It had always been Daryl and Y/N, they where a pair, a packaged deal. Through the twists and turns of life, through every war, walker and supply run, they found their way back together, and this supply run wasn't any different. The rumbling of his motorcycle's engine and the feeling of your arms around his torso where familiar, wind whipping through your hair as you approached your destination, a run down farm supply store another group had spotted a week back, but hadn't had the time to investigate.

You and Daryl dismounted the vehicle and secured your empty bags to your shoulders, ready to retrieve anything and everything from the confined of the slightly dilated building. You both pulled out your crossbow and knifes respectively and marched towards it.

You where thankful the group before had stumbled across such a hidden gem, it had apparently not been a very populated area before the outbreak because the lack of walkers around the area was prevalent. A fact you where grateful for so either of you wouldn't have to waste any energy.

"y/n"

Daryl's voice graveled quietly as you two stepped into the shop.

"don'cha thinks its weird the bell is gone"

After a questioning look you sent him, he pointed above your heads at the door frame, the place bell to alert employees would usual be, it was gone, not unlike someone had unscrewed the mechanism. You shook off the paranoid thought tho, there could be so many reasons it was gone.

"Yeah"

You began to respond "but the place isn't in the best condition, i wouldn't be surprised if it fell off even before the outbreak" Daryl nodded in silent agreement, but still kept the thought in the back of his mind.

Pacing forward your eyes raked across the walls and floor, finally landing on some bags of seeds of the shelves before tossing them into your pack, finding a home on top of the first aid kid you had packed. You planed to plant them in your garden back in Alexandria. A few more items joined the pile, extra fishing line, a hammer and nails, and even a dark grey hunting knife you snagged from box hidden under dust and dead plants. Continuing down the rows of empty shelves and boxed your foot hit something soft on the group, it was a mattress. A few threadbare blankets laid on top of it that you quickly stuffed into your pack, someone must have camped here at the start of the outbreak, judging by the dust that made you sneeze and you lifted up the fabric.

Just as you passed the last aisle to where Daryl was standing examining a spade, a loud noise approached both of you, it was the sound of a loud car driving closer and closer to the store. Catching Daryls eye you both hid behind a large pile of boxes, holding your knifes and crossbow respectively as the engine of the car sputtered to a stop, though voices quickly filled it.

"Dude i swear when i get in there im gunna pass out"

A man grumbled, seemingly younger by the sound of his voice.

"Yeah yeah ill take first watch, but we gotta clean the place up, its been months we don't know if theres biters or rats or shit in there"

Another voice chimed in, deeper this time.

'So people had been camping out here' You thought to yourself as you made eye contact with the man crouching next to you, a concerned look painted on your face. Shifting anxiously a third voice met your ears. You where outnumbers by the sound of it, and you didn't know if they had more on their way.

You scratched your arm absentmindedly, it was an anxious tick you'd always had. Daryl placed his own hand over your, squeezing it slightly in a reassuring manner, the action spoke words he couldn't say, words that would get you two caught my the quickly approaching group of enemies.

"Do yall hear anything? Like breathin or something?"

You freeze, hand coming up to cover your mouth quickly, not noticing how your breath had become slightly labored in anxiety.

"Could just be a breeze Joe, done be so paranoid"

"mm whatever. The man"

Joe grumbled, resuming what seemed to be kicking a small rock down the aisle. The sound of his boots and the stones impact on the ground echoing closer and closer to you and Daryl's hiding spot, until it came into view. He had kicked it too hard to the right, and now it was sitting just next to your frozen form.

As he bent down to pick it up you took your chance, whipping out your knife and holding it against his throat with a steady hand, causing his body to stiffen and looked between you and daryl with wide eyes.

"move, talk, do anything, ill kill you, understand?"

Your voice was quiet but authoritative, a harsh tone that was rarely heard. Joe nodded his head hesitantly. Just as you where steadying yourself to rise from your crouched position his mouth opened.

"ANDY THERES PEOPLE BACK HE-"

His sentence finished with a gurgling sound as you stuck the knife into his throat. Daryl took out his cross bow and you both rose, gazes meeting determinately, you where getting out of here.

The other men quickly ran towards the source of the noise, and after eyeing their friends dead body the glint of revenge in their eyes was piercing, and for a second it was silent.

A searing pain erupted in your shoulder, the feeling spreading like fire all around you body and you firmly grasped where the feeling resided, trying desperately to stop the sensation. You felt a warm liquid covered your hand just as your other senses came into focus, the sound of fighting, the smell of gunpowder, that motherfucker had shot you.

Forcing your self to steady your hands around the grip of your knife you scanned your surrounding. Daryl was fist fighting a man on the floor, his cross bow thrown feet away by his enemy. Your feet scrambled to get close to him, to help him but a force interrupted you. Tackling you to the ground, one of the men pinning your hand with his knees as he threw punches at you.

Thinking as fast as you could in your slightly delirious state and desperate to escape his grasp, you jammed your knee between his legs.

"YOU FUCKIN BITCH"

Howling in pain and yelling profanities it caused his friend to notice the commotion. Whipping out his gun the man who had been attacking daryl not pointed the weapon at him, then he spoke.

"Now no one else here has to die. You just put down your weapons, give us your bags and leave"

With no other choice, Daryl being held at gunpoint, you slowly laid your knife down and painfully adjusting your still bleeding shoulder, dropped your backpack too.

"Good good"

The man waved the gun at the arched in a gesture for him to remove any weapons or supplies as well. Begrudgingly he did, and the enemy kicked his stuff away to the wall with yours.

"Now I said no one has to die.."

He trailed of slightly, holding his gun casual as the other man behind you finally stood up, blocking you from running.

"Buuuuut, you killed Joe" He now pointed his weapon at you, finger on the trigger.

"So your gunna die anyway"

"NO" Daryl suddenly jumped up just as he was about the squeeze the trigger. The archer grabbed him by the side, pushing him down to the ground just as the shot fired. The ringing noise echoed along with the bloody sounds of someone getting shot in the neck.

Slowly turning behind you, the blood splattered onto your already stained clothes and face. The man who had attached you earlier, dead against the wall. Your eyes quickly traced back to where daryl lay, desperately holding his attacker away, his knife beginning to press into his chest.

"Y/N FUCKING RUN" He yelled and you could here the slight edge of desperateness in his voice, he wanted you to get out alive even if he died. But you and daryl where a pair, a packaged deal, and you weren't going to leave him behind just because he told you to.

"NO!"

Lunging at the man above him you knocked the knife out of his hand, with no weapon in yours and not thinking clearly from blood loss and shock you just hit, blows to his face coming without you even recognizing you where throwing them. You didnt stop until a pair of firm but gentle arms wrapped around you, pulling you back from the dead man.

"Shh sunshine its alrigh', just breath its ok"

His gravely voice came from behind you and your heart rate slowed, the pain was catching up to you and a slight whimper left you mouth. Daryl turned you around and held your body to move you away from the dead ones. Brushing your hair out of your face he comforted you.

"Im here, your here, we're ok"

And you where, even with a bullet wound in your shoulder and both of your faces bruised, you where ok, you where together.

"Are you ok?"

Your voice was weak from the screaming you hadnt realized had left your throat before.

"Your shot and your askin me if Im ok?" His mouth tilted up in the slightest ghost of a smile, removing the ripped part of your shirt to asses the damage.

"Well If worry about you Dixon"

His eyes where soft, cleaning the blood from you wound and covering it will all the bandages he could, knowing you wouldn't be able to get proper help until they got back to Alexandria it was all he could do.

"I worry bout you too dumbass, you could have got yourself killed"

"It was for a good cause, I wasn't leavin' you that easy" And you laughed, it hurt like bitch when the sound it echoed through your shoulder but you didn't mind, and he smiled too, so it was worth it.

#twd angst #twd fluff #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon fluff #twd fanfiction

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