#we all know he'd let us ride too ;)
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emathevampire · 1 year ago
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Hello. It's me. Your friendly local villain enthusiast. I'm here to tell you to vote for Zenos. Why?
He's also a goddamn dragon.
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AND A GODDAMN DEMON.
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AND LITERALLY CROSSED THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE FOR YOU
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JUST BECAUSE HE WANTS TO FUCK YOU UP SO BAD IT MAKES HIM LOOK STUPID
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And, as if you needed any more reason, we KNOW Zenos would at least buy you dinner first. Midgardsormr? Has never taken me to dinner even once. Checkmate, ghostfuckers.
MOST FUCKABLE FF14 MAN ROUND 2
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werecreature-addicted · 9 months ago
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okay but what a fallen angel who you happen to stumble upon all bloody and bruised. and we must take him home to care for him and oops somehow we end up in his lap taking care of him in other ways…
poor thing. pathetic and wretched. He doesn't deserve your soft touch, but he accepts it anyway. who cares if he's being selfish right now, greedy and sinful. He's already fallen, how much worse can it get? you treat him the best you can, his injuries heal on their own, but he doesn't tell you that. He like your touch, and the way you coo at him that "this might sting a little bit". It does sting but he doesn't mind. He's fascinated by this new sensation of pain. Injuries never touched him before in the heavens. it's... not good, but it is fascinating.
His wings heal, and work again but the feathers turn black, marking his fall. You should be disgusted with him, he's defied his master, and now he's something unholy. You seem fascinated by his wings, running your fingers through his soft wings, and telling him how pretty he looks. and your laugh, heavens above, your laugh is sweeter than any church bells, he thinks he'd do anything to hear you giggle for him and see you smile.
He's obsessed with your touch, with the warmth your hands bring. He doesn't know what "touch starved" means until you explain it to him but it perfectly describes him and how he feels. He's an angel, not a human, he shouldn't need skinship like you do. but he does crave it. he doesn't want to let you go when you hug him. he finds himself pressing his face into your palm, forcing you to cradle his cheek the way you did that first night when you found him.
As an angel, all be it a fallen one, he's never had sex but he wasn't born yesterday. Lust has always been a temptation he struggled with. He knows what it means when his heartbeat quickens every time you're near. he knows he wants to kiss you, touch every inch of you, fuck you. He's aware of his own carnal desires, he's just so used to denying these wants he isn't sure how to act on them.
He truly does have pure intentions when he pulls you onto his lap. holding you in his big arms. But then you shift a little too much and your mouth is already so close to his... you'll take care of him, right? you'll take his big cock and make him cum like he needs, right? you're his savor, and now bringing him to ecstasy like this, He'll gladly devote himself to you, just keep riding him like that.
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reiderwriter · 1 year ago
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Little Angel
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Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader
Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+
Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.
Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.
A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️
Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 
The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 
Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 
And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 
You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 
"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 
Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 
It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 
"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 
The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 
"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 
"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 
"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 
"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 
"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 
"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 
It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 
A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 
"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 
"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 
"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 
"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 
"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 
"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  
Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 
"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 
"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 
"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 
"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 
"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 
"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 
The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 
"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 
But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 
"Nowhere." 
The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 
"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 
"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 
Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 
Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.
The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 
The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 
You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 
He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 
After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 
Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 
"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 
"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 
"Okay, so she's not interested."
"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 
"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 
"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 
"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 
" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."
"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 
Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 
The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 
Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 
You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 
"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 
"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 
You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 
"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 
"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."
He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 
"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 
You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 
You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 
With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 
You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 
The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 
He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 
"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 
He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 
"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 
"I'm okay." 
"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 
You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 
"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 
"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 
"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 
"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 
"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 
"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 
You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 
"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 
"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 
Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 
"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 
"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 
"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 
"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 
"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 
"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 
"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 
"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 
"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 
His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 
You'd never felt like this before. 
He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 
"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 
"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."
Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 
"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 
"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 
"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 
His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 
"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 
His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 
Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 
"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 
"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 
"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 
"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 
He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 
You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 
He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 
He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 
He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 
"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 
When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 
"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 
He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 
"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 
He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 
"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 
You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 
"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 
"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 
"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 
"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 
"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 
You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 
"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 
"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 
"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 
"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 
"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 
"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 
"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 
You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 
He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 
"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 
"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 
"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."
"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 
"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 
"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 
Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 
It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 
"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 
"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 
You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 
"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 
"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 
His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 
He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 
Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 
He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 
"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 
You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 
You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 
Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 
Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 
"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 
You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 
You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 
"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 
"Y/N, what's wrong?" 
"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 
You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 
"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 
"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 
"No, not until you tell me why you left." 
"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 
He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 
"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 
Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 
"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 
Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"
"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 
You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 
"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  
11K notes · View notes
amaranthineghost · 4 months ago
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˗ˏˋ꒰ 🥥 ꒱ TWO WHEEL DRIVE: CROSSWALK COLLISION ( lando norris. )
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lando norris x biker!reader
it's race week in miami, but instead of being on four wheels, lando has some two wheel trouble. he feels bad enough to where he turns to twitter to help find the girl he nearly caused a collision with.
authors note: I love bikers so I had to do this (and I know that lando didn't help oscar win his sprint, but she doesn't know that! yet!!!) second and third part will be out in the next few days or so!
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ynusername
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liked by yourbsf and 2,947 others
ynusername sunset ride and almost hitting a guy on the crosswalk core!! 🤗🤗🤗
view all 96 comments
yourbsf always so fun to ride with you 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 maybe next time don't almost hit a pedestrian? 😅
user this is the girl lando was looking for?! SHES STUNNING
⤷ ynusername who's lando? 😅 and thanks babes 🫶🏼🫶🏼
⤷ user oh lando? we go way back, he helped rescue my cat from a tree!
⤷ user yeah, he's a real one, he gave cpr to my goldfish after it flopped onto the carpet 🤗🤗🤗
user hello??? SHES SUCH A BADDIE
user thanking lando for helping us discover this gorgeous woman
⤷ user right like maybe she did us a favor by almost running him over...
user the internet becoming his wingman so he doesn't fumble this baddie 😭😭
⤷ user lando norriz and nowins better prove one of those statements wrong soon 🙌
user nahhh because what's wrong with her?? nearly running him over and then posting with a stupid caption about it?? 🙄🙄🙄
⤷ user this girl clearly doesn't understand who he is 🫣
user i need to see lando on a bike, he'd rock that shit
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ynusername
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liked by landonorris and 6,037 others
ynusername safe to say i won't be falling asleep tonight 🫶🏻
view all 174 comments
user HELLO??? IS THAT LANDO
user OH MY GOD
user bro's doing charity work out here
user LANDO NORIZZ HAS RIZZ?? (he rescued my entire family from a house fire)
user please LET THAT BE LANDO
yourbsf i thought i was your backpack 😕
⤷ ynusername you are bbg i just gave a man a short ride
⤷ yourbsf uh huh 🤨
user lando backpack confirmed
user lando actually rescued me from a desert island on his multi-million dollar yacht!
landonorris pretty sunset
❤️ by author
user im gonna faint, lando commented
user EVERYBODY STAY CALM!!!
oscarpiastri lando actually helped me win a sprint race
user she's clearly just using him
⤷ user stay mad
landonorris
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liked by ynusername and 807,438 others
landonorris i think two wheels suits me
view all 6,273 comments
user omg that's the same sunset in ynusername's post??
user lando on a bike? YES PLEASE!!!
user i can barely handle him with four wheels, i don't know about two!!!
user oh my god the second picture is goals
ynusername what a cute cat! 😊
⤷ landonorris not as cute as you
user im not the only one who saw that comment from lando right?
⤷ user no i definitely saw that
user HE HAS RIZZ I FEAR!!
user i know my goat
user backpack lando has too much power
⤷ user lando anywhere near a bike has too much power
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ynusername
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liked by mclaren and 50,974 others
ynusername sorry i had plans <3
tagged alexandrasaintmleux, iamrebbecad, mclaren, landonorris
view all 1037 comments
user oh my GOD SHE WAS AT THE RACE?
⤷ user i bet lando asked mclaren to invite her 🥺
landonorris thank you for coming to support me on four wheels this time!
⤷ ynusername of course, i had so much fun and you deserve it so much! 🫶🏻
⤷ user smooth lando, smooth
⤷ user on four wheels this time...THIS TIME?!
user stop she was there supporting lando MY HEART
⤷ user i can't take it I LOVE THEM
alexandrasaintmleux so amazing to see you darling 🌺 can't wait to see you again
⤷ ynusername i had such an amazing time, i love you so much 🥹 i'll be waiting impatiently
user stop the other wags interacting with our new (potential) wag
user i need to see her with all the other wags now
⤷ user it's a must
iamrebeccad a pleasure to meet you! you looked absolutely stunning and i look forward to hanging out again!
⤷ ynusername i love you so much, you are drop-dead gorgeous! i would love to hang out again soon 🫶🏻
user the way everyone loves her
⤷ user i mean, can you blame them? she's a hot, incredibly stunning and badass biker who's insanely sweet and kind! who wouldn't love her?!
⤷ user i don't blame them, i fear i would gravitate towards her like a magnet if i ever met her 🥲
mclaren lovely having you at the hospitality! should keep you around if it means our drivers will win 😉
⤷ ynusername thank you for giving me this amazing experience and opportunity! i'd love to do it again sometime 🫶🏻
user MCLAREN'S COMMENT??
⤷ user please let this be a sign
⤷ user mclaren please we need to see them again
user they need to be together
⤷ user as much as i would love to see them together, she lives in miami and he's leaving 😭
⤷ user no shush i'm manifesting
⤷ user okay real i'm right there beside you
landonorris
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liked by ynusername and 1,028,202
landonorris nowins and norizz? okay lol
view all 9,263 comments
user HELLO SOFT LAUNCH!!
⤷ user soft launch, but we already know its them
⤷ user let them have their fun!
user bro really said lol
user lando has a win and rizz??? is the world okay???
ynusername so proud of you! you deserve it 🫶🏻
⤷ landonorris i won because you were watching
⤷ user lando said "this one's for you" and SCORED
oscarpiastri congrats on the win mate
⤷ landonorris thanks osc!
user LANDO CALLING OSCAR 'OSC' MAKES IT EVEN BETTER
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taglist (found here): @poppyflower-22 @sapphiccloud @darleneslane @decafmickey @slut4lrh @kaa12 @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @nhlfs @beskardroids @hiireadstuff @lorenica @delululeclerc @c-losur3 @casperlikej @soamericn @tellybearyyyy @geniusalpaca @namgification
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
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rinneverse · 8 months ago
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pspspsp,,, do you perhaps have a spare boothill thought or two ,, sfw or nsfw,,,
i most certainly do have a few spare boothill thoughts! mostly nsfw ( ¬‿¬) walk with me nonnie… heheheh this got a wee bit too out of hand and i dropped WAY more than a few thoughts (and i am also tipsy, so i apologize in advance if something doesn't make sense) regardless, i hope u rlly like this :3
cw. assorted boothill x f!reader thoughts, manhandling, biting, improper use of a lasso (bondage!), mentions of overstim, lack of stamina is a foreign concept to boothill, talk of cyborg dick and artificial cum, creampies. not proofread in the slightest if there are typos no there's not
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𓆩♡𓆪 the thing about boothill is how unafraid he is of manhandling you. while he's aware that humans are much more fragile than he, he knows your limits like the back of his hand and he knows what you can handle. you can take him like a big girl, can't you?
𓆩♡𓆪 he'll fold you in half, put you in all sorts of positions, toss you over his shoulder and pat your plush ass with a smug laugh. if you decide you want to ride him and get all tuckered out, thighs burning, the moment you're whining and babbling for his help he's already on it. big hands envelop your waist as he moves you to his whims.
𓆩♡𓆪 boothill likes to see you pleasure-drunk, entirely fucked out by the time he's done with you. he can go for as long as you need, baby; you just have to say the word. he can eat you out for hours, fuck you for double that, and still have enough energy to take care of you afterwards.
𓆩♡𓆪 cyborg sex has the potential to really get freaky tbh... he's definitely had chats with you about different 'attachments...' whatever you're into. he's definitely figured out which size makes you cum the most, and will indulge your every whim—especially when you shyly ask him "baby... can we go bigger?" (if he still had a human body, his dick would be rock fucking hard right now.) he's definitely looked into vibrating attachments. great heavens.
𓆩♡𓆪 SPEAKING OF attachments he's looked into: boothill has definitely found a way to creampie you. the tipping point for him deep diving into this was when you were just whinin' so pretty for him, begging for more, and you had let it slip that you wished so bad for him to be able to cum into you. lo and behold, he finds a solution and he surprises you by cumming deep in your aching cunt one night. the two of you definitely make a mess of your bedsheets by the end of the day (and you probably had the most earth-shattering orgasms you've ever had in your life).
𓆩♡𓆪 the day you finally asked him what his teeth would feel like, boothill's grinning like a maniac. he won't bite so hard that it hurts too much, but he knows how much you like the power he holds over you. sharp teeth sink into flesh, followed by a hot tongue that laves over the mark adoringly.
𓆩♡𓆪 another day he indulged you... there was one time he noticed you eyeing the lasso that hangs at his hips. he smiles wolfishly at you and asks, "like what you see, darlin'?" he's surprised when you shyly nod your head and look up at him with sweet doe eyes and asks if maybe... he'd consider using it in the bedroom?
𓆩♡𓆪 and oh, he did. he considered it maybe a little too hard (he jerked himself off far too many times that day). when the time came for him to use it on you, he was fiending. he ties your wrists to the bedposts and just goes to town, treating your cute body like a pretty little cum dump. he's definitely a big fan. especially when you can't run away from all the pleasure he wants to give you <3
𓆩♡𓆪 he doesn't look it, but i think he provides good aftercare. he knows how fragile the human body is firsthand: that's why he's a cyborg now. he'll take care of you. without fail, every time he's done with you, you're practically a puddle, exhausted and jelly-boned, and boothill is scooping you up into his metal arms. and yet despite the cool metal pressing against your flesh, you feel warm. maybe it's just the love pouring out of his every action, the way he treats your body with absolute reverence and adoration as he cleans you up and gets you ready for some rest.
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please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!
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augustinewrites · 6 months ago
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cw: pregnancy
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“when you said we were sneaking out to go for a ride, i didn't think you meant that,” you sigh, breathless but content as you slump against your husband’s chest.
“deep breaths, darling,” diluc encourages, fingertips brushing down your spine. it makes him think of before, of juvenile fumbling and embarrassment. he’s much less chaste now. confident in his touches and his ability to please you. “why let the horses have all the fun?”
“you’ve been spending too much time with kaeya,” you grumble.
“i agree. it’s why i had to sneak away from his party with you.”
“your party,” you correct, letting him twine your fingers with yours. just like he had earlier, when he’d convinced you to sneak out of the surprise birthday party thrown in his honour. “the guests are likely looking for you.”
diluc’s used to being the center of attention. he doesn't necessarily enjoy it, but his day-to-day is filled with employees searching for his signature or potential clients seeking his participation on new ventures. as the king of the wine industry, he’s possibly the most in-demand person in mondstadt.
but their attention is nothing compared to yours. you’re his favourite person.
“you didn't even make it to the cake,” you add, shifting in his lap. “which means they'll be looking for us soon.”
he brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon your knuckles and making your heart flutter. “i've already had dessert.”
your face warms considerably against his skin as he chuckles, releasing your hand in favour of slowly smoothing his palm down your side, resting on your hip. he’s more than content to abandon his birthday party entirely in favour of being here in bed, watching the sunset over the fields of your home and bathing you both in golden light.
“well, it’s your birthday party,” you say softly. “even if your actual birthday is two days away, i still want you to have everything you could possibly want. and if what you want is to sneak away from your party to bed me so thoroughly, who am i to argue?”
his heart starts to thump so loudly in his chest that he fears you can hear it. he does want something else, an answer to a question that’s been stifled by shyness, fear, and uncertainty.
“and if i wanted…something else?”
your fingers trace idle patterns across his arm as you hum. “i’d do my best to give it to you.”
he knows you would. which is why he’s been waiting, making sure you want this just as much as he does.
“kaeya said something to me earlier,” he starts.
“please tell me this doesn't end with you hitting him.”
“of course not.” well, not this time. “he asked when i would make him an uncle.”
your movements pause, and diluc wonders if he'd messed up, if it was too soon–
you sit up immediately, grasping his shoulders. “he told you i was pregnant, didn't he? i knew adelaide wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. she’s been knitting baby socks since last week.”
wait.
wait.
“you’re–”
“i wanted it to be a surprise,” you deflate, a frown tugging on your pretty lips. “on your real birthday. adelinde was the only one i told, only because she’d caught me throwing up in the rose bush she’d just pruned and insisted i get checked…”
diluc’s hardly hearing you, your rambling slowing to a stop as he holds your face in his hands.
he needs to hear you say it.
“we’re having a baby?”
you place your hands atop his, nodding. “we’re having a baby, diluc.”
he presses his lips against yours, one firm kiss before he rests his forehead against yours. you are and will always be his favourite person, the only one who could give him a gift as special as this.
_____
BONUS:
“lavender bisque. whispering peach. sweet potato surprise…” adelinde murmurs, hunched over a few sheets of paper.
“what is that? is that the menu for tomorrow’s party?” kaeya asks, peeking over her shoulder.
adelinde sighs, shaking her head. “they're sample colours i had sent over for the nursery.”
“nursery?”
“yes–” the colour drains from the poor woman’s face as she realizes her slip. “oh dear!”
the realization takes a few moments to sink into the cavalry captain’s “my brother had sex?!”
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for @mydiluc aka mrs diluc ragnvindr for listening to my endless rambles...and also diluc bday fic!!!
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greg-montgomery · 6 months ago
Note
the latest hotch x sunshine reader fic?
u think u ate with that?
no.
U DEVOUREDDDDDD. GRRRRRRRRRRR
part 2 now mama i love u so much
bestieee thank you omg!!!! <3 i hope you like part 2!!
part 1
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
Spencer took a deep breath staring at his desk. On any other day it would be due to the amount of paperwork waiting for him, but this time it was a cup of his favorite coffee order, a muffin, and a chocolate croissant, all sitting right on top of the report he was working on.
He wasn’t ungrateful for the treats, but he would rather enjoy them if they weren’t accompanied by three pairs of wide eyes looking at him, while searching for answers in return.
Emily threw her head back dramatically. “Come on, give us something.”
“They’re on a date right now, aren’t they? That’s why he left early. I know you know,” Penelope said. “I know you do. Rossi knows too, but he won’t say anything.”
“Yeah,” JJ agreed, “Every time we ask he says nothing and just…smirks at us.”
“Please, you’re our last hope.”
Spencer took a bite of his muffin and smirked.
“You’re even worse than him,” Emily said and pointed at him.
“Come on, girls. Let’s go hack Hotch’s phone.”
“No, wait!”
--
Was it silly to start planning your wedding on a first date?
Maybe it was; you didn’t care. Because there was no way Aaron was not your future husband.
He did everything perfectly: he picked you up from your house, got you flowers, did not let you touch a door handle, paid for your dinner date, and let you play your music during the car ride.
Aaron also smiled a lot and the sight of it made you melt into your seat. It wasn’t often that a man gave you butterflies by just one look or with the sound of his laughter.
“What are you in the mood for now?”
The last thing you wanted was for the date to end, so instead of suggesting you walk back to his car you made a different offer.
“Let’s get ice cream!”
He chuckled, but you could already tell he would not say no to you. “Okay.”
You were walking side by side and even though you were already falling in love with his warm voice it was hard to pay attention to his words. Your mind was too occupied thinking about his arm swinging next to yours and how bad you wanted to hold hands with him.
Did he want it too? Would he think it’s childish to hold hands?
What if you just…did it?
Life’s too short, you thought and grabbed his hand.
Yes, you had not been paying attention to what he'd been saying but you did notice how he stopped mid-sentence when your hands touched. Was he mad?
Your heart was jumping against your chest, afraid you did something stupid. Aaron was quick to ease your anxiety, intertwining your fingers and squeezing gently your hand.
He wanted this too.
He cleared his throat. “So it’s um…a good chance to…”
With the side of your eye, you caught him turning his head to stare at you. You hadn’t wiped the grin off your face from the sudden hand holding yet, and he saw it.
His dimples made an appearance, and as your grin got bigger you noticed he blushed.
“Oh, shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything!” you giggled.
The sound of Aaron’s phone ringing interrupted your moment.
“Sorry, I have to get this,” he said.
You, of course, didn’t mind. Even though he hadn’t said so himself, you knew he had left right on time – early in Hotch’s terms - from work just for your date. Perks of being best friends with your date’s subordinate was getting to have this kind of inside information.
“Hotchner,” he said sternly.
You stayed quiet.
“What? I didn’t authorize this.”
Oh.
“No. And I trust this won’t happen again.”
Oh…Maybe you liked this side of him a little bit more than you should.
“Thanks,” he said, and hung up. “I’m sorry about that.”
I’m not.
“No, it’s okay! It’s fascinating observing you being a boss.”
“You like observing people?”
“Why, are you interested in hiring me?” you teased.
“Oh, I would never.”
“Why not?” you asked, acting offended.
“I would not be able to focus on a case with you around.”
You took advantage of the fact you were on a sidewalk and stopped walking, turning your body to face him. “And why is that?”
Aaron moved closer and dropped your hand only to cup the side of your head. His thumb moved back and forth on your cheek and his eyes on yours made you feel dizzy.
“Because you take my breath away.”
And with his next move he took yours. Maybe you’d actually faint if he didn’t pull you in and place his lips on yours.
Your hands moved to his tie with the intention of pulling him even closer to your body. His kiss was heavenly and you really wouldn’t mind if you were to stay like that forever.
Yeah…there was no way Aaron Hotchner was not your future husband.
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enha-doodles · 6 months ago
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please do a slytherin boys reacting to you being a hufflepuff pls
SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING A HUFFLEPUFF | ✧⁺。
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Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo , Draco) x reader
Notes : okay so now only Slytherin left and next will definately be an enhypen post , it's been too long since I posted something for them 😭
Warnings : not proofread , written in a hurry my bad guys
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
Mattheo's smirk widens as he gazes at you, unable to contain his amusement. "Well, well, well, my dear Hufflepuff," he begins, his tone playful yet affectionate, "aren't you just the epitome of kindness? It's like you're allergic to anything even remotely sinister." He chuckles softly, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But fear not, my sweet, for I'll be your guide through the shadows. Together, we'll navigate the dark corners of Hogwarts, with your innocence as our secret weapon." He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Who knows, maybe you'll even rub off on this Slytherin and teach me a thing or two about being... less evil." He winks, his playful tone laced with genuine fondness for you. "But until then, let's just enjoy the ride, shall we?" You can't help but laugh at his teasing, feeling a surge of affection for the charming Slytherin who's captured your heart.
TOM RIDDLE
Tom rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Hufflepuff, muttering about the insignificance of a house that values kindness above all else. He's determined to toughen you up, constantly pushing you to shed your soft exterior and embrace the cold, hard reality of the wizarding world. "Kindness is a weakness, darling," he'll growl, his gaze steely as he lectures you on the importance of ambition and cunning.
He'd manipulate you by turning you against your friends because in his eyes you are born to evil that's why you ended up with him , your friends are the wrong influence "And those so-called friends of yours? They're just wolves in sheep's clothing, waiting to take advantage of your sweet nature. But fear not, my dear, for I'll always be here to protect you" He's there even if it means scaring away every potential suitor with a well-timed glare.
THEODORE NOTT
Theodore can't help but chuckle at the irony of your Hufflepuff allegiance, but it's all in good fun. He'll mock you mercilessly, recounting every Slytherin victory over Hufflepuff in Quidditch or other competitions. Yet, despite his teasing, Theodore knows when to concede defeat, his love for you outweighing any petty house rivalry.
"Alright, alright, my little badger," he'll sigh, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I may be a Slytherin, but you've got me wrapped around your little finger. Just promise me you'll stop bringing up that time Hufflepuff beat us in the House Cup. It still stings, you know."
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
He'll even go as far as pretending to roar like a ferocious dog lion - oh the irony , whenever someone gets too close, much to your amusement.
Lorenzo can't resist the urge to baby you at every turn, his heart swelling with pride whenever he looks at you. He'll hover protectively by your side, his arm draped over your shoulders like a shield against the world. "My sweet little badger," he'll coo, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll protect you from every danger, real or imagined. No one's laying a finger on my precious Hufflepuff, not while I'm around."
DRACO MALFOY
Draco's annoyance is as evident as ever, his aristocratic features twisted into a perpetual scowl (his resting face actually) as he begrudgingly accepts your Hufflepuff allegiance. He'll grumble about the stupidity of your house, his annoyance palpable in every word he utters. "Hufflepuff" he'll mutter under his breath, as if the mere mention of the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
But despite his disdain, Draco can't help but crave the princess treatment you're all too willing to provide. "Fine, Hufflepuff," he'll huff, crossing his arms in a dramatic display of annoyance. "But don't think for a second that I'm not expecting extra cuddles to make up for it."
。    ✧    ⁺     。
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xinganhao · 3 days ago
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📅 seungcheol x fanbase!reader.
the one where seungcheol gets all most of his svt news from your no-nonsense fanbase. headcanons & bonus content under the cut. ➤ see also: svt burner accounts series
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📅 a timeline of seungcheol's gradual descent to madness following of user svtdotcom .ᐟ
it is 2015. seungcheol is on top of the world. he's survived seventeen project. he's finally debuted. the group has just released 17 carat. against all of his seniors' advice, he looks himself up on sns. the man is a leo through and through, after all. one of the first things to come up is something called svtdotcom. brows furrowed, he clicks on to the account. it's with a thrill that he realizes you're a fanbase— a fanbase! seungcheol used to only dream of times like these. he follows the account excitedly. he doesn't even check, yet, what type of posts you make. you're a fan of the group. in the beginning, that's enough for him.
it is 2017. seungcheol rides the most planes he has in his life. well, at least to his 22-year-old self. the world tour takes him to thirteen cities. there's so many timezones and a never-ending feeling of jet lag. in his down time, he finds himself checking your page. he's mildly impressed— no, that's a lie. he's very impressed. you update your steadily growing following about each stop. the dates, the anticipated weather, the set list. in his hotel rooms, seungcheol will fall asleep with his phone in his hand. anyone who dares to look might find that the last thing he'd been looking at was your account.
it is 2018. seungcheol learns japanese. nothing too drastic. just the usual pleasantries. konnichiwa. aishiteru. sayonara. he studies up enough to sing, to pull off their first japanese EP. that is, until he checks your page and realizes you're translating now. you weren't kidding when you said you would be one of the group's international fanbases. seungcheol can hardly imagine the work you're putting in for the sake of maintaining your page. for the sake of telling more people about the group. he's shamed in to studying a little harder; in a way, you make him want to be better. he wants to be able to say arigato, thank you, in every language you might know.
it is 2020. seungcheol's world screeches to a halt. he feels like he's in limbo, like no amount of digital singles or pre-recorded content can reach the people he needs it to. he's disappointed. he's frustrated. he feels robbed of the life he could have lead. dramatically, he thinks it's the end for him. except you don't seem to think so. you, with your zoom events, your discord server, your throwbacks on slow days. you work doubly, triply hard to keep the group relevant, and seungcheol can't seem to decide if he wants to cry or laugh. because someone is in his corner. how could he take that for granted?
it is 2024. when seungcheol hears people talk about the group being around for 'nearly a decade', he thinks of a lot of things. he thinks of the show champion trophy they won for pretty u. he thinks of the instinctive way his body responds to say the name! we are—... he thinks of you, oddly enough. he can bullshit himself and say that he thinks in general terms, but the plain and simple truth is this: where millions of fans, dozens of executives, and twelve boys look up at seungcheol, he finds that he's looking towards you.
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BONUS CONTENT .ᐟ
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⌗ ┆a very special shoutout to the anon whose prompt recommendation helped me realize this smau (ᗒᗨᗕ) they said: "YK how seungcheol is always up to date with news regarding seventeen? what if you write a seungcheol x reader where the reader runs a fanbase having no nonsense type news and no opinions or anything but just news regarding and for seventeen and she also doesn't let people talk shit about them under her page? that's how seungcheol knows news first??"
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flanaganfilm · 2 years ago
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The Midnight Club - Season Two
I'm very disappointed that Netflix has decided not to pursue a second season of THE MIDNIGHT CLUB.
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My biggest disappointment is that we left so many story threads open, holding them back for the hypothetical second season, which is always a gamble.
So I'm writing this blog as our official second season, so you can know what might have been, learn the fates of your favorite characters, and know the answers to those dangling story threads from the first season.
So for those of you who want to know what we were planning to do, here's a look at what would have been season 2!
AMESH Season 2 would open with Amesh, his glioblastoma advancing quickly. He would tell the first story of the season, but would be struggling to make it through. We'd focus on his love story with Natsuki for those first few episodes as it becomes clear that Amesh's death is imminent.
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Meanwhile, Ilonka is trying to reconcile how she was fooled by Julia Jayne, all while falling further in love with Kevin, and she realizes he may be fading faster than he lets on.
Ilonka begins a serialized story in an effort to encourage him to "stay alive a little longer," like he did in season one. And the story she tells is... REMEMBER ME.
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This was the thing I was most excited about for this season.
REMEMBER ME is one of my all-time favorite Pike books - it tells the story of a teenage girl who is pushed off a balcony, and awakens as a ghost. She has to navigate being a spirit while trying to solve her own murder. We would have stretched this story out over 5 episodes. We were going to use it as a vehicle for Ilonka to try to come to terms with the fact that she is going to die, and to begin to trying to wrap her head around being a ghost... but this is the coolest part... the lead character of Ilonka's story wouldn't be played by Ilonka. She'd be played by...
Anya.
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Because this is how we live on, isn't it? In the minds of those we leave behind. And Ilonka would use REMEMBER ME as a way to imagine her dear friend Anya, waking up as a ghost, navigating the afterlife. And this sets up one of the best mechanisms of the show - even if a character dies, as long as they're remembered by members of the club, they live on in their stories.
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As the story starts to pick up steam, though, the group will have to deal with the death of Amesh, which he greets with grace and bravery.
In his final moments, he sees someone in his room - the Janitor from the first season, as played by Robert Longstreet, who says comforting things to Amesh even though he can't respond.
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In his final, final moments, the SHADOW descends upon Amesh, and he is engulfed into it, which reinforces the idea that the Shadow is DEATH...
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With Amesh's death comes something that upends the entire thing: a NEW PATIENT. We didn't work out too much about who this would be, but it would be a new roommate for Ilonka. Someone taking Anya's old bed. Ilonka would find herself being initially cold to her - just as Anya was when Ilonka arrived. Even feeling like this new girl shouldn't necessarily be ushered into the Club. But of course they would develop a beautiful friendship over the course of the season. The new girl joins the club, where something else exciting is happening - Cheri is telling a story. We hadn't decided which one, but I think it might have been MONSTER.
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Natsuki would be the next to die, which would be heartbreaking. And again, she would talk to the janitor just before it happened... and again, the Shadow would come in the final moments.
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For Spence, though, things would take a different turn.
The advancements in HIV treatment in the late 90's would come into play, and we'd see his prognosis change. The HIV cocktail came out in Dec 1995, and we really wanted to explore that.
Spence would ride the swell of antiviral advancements, and by the end of the season, he'd no longer be classified as terminal. In the finale of season 2, Spence would leave Brightcliffe just like Sandra did in Season 1, heading off to manage his disease and live the rest of his life.
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But onto the BIG MYSTERIES of the season one... here are some answers: What is up with Dr. Stanton's tattoo and bald head? Well, a few things. First, Dr. Stanton is actually the daughter of the original Paragon cult leader, Aceso. Her nickname was Athena, she wrote the Paragon journal that Ilonka found in S1. She turned on her mother and helped the kids escape, but because she was part of the cult in her teenage years, she had the tattoo.
It was her initials that Ilonka found carved into the tree in season 1 (her maiden name was Georgina Ballard, hence the G.B. that Ilonka finds carved in the tree).
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She hated what her mother became, and the atrocities of the cult. She reclaimed the property after her mom was gone, and wanted to change it into a place that celebrated life. She was trying to undo her mother's legacy and leave something behind that was beautiful. She is wearing a wig at the end of S1 not because of a sinister reason, but because she is undergoing chemo. Dr. Stanton has cancer. Having helped so many people deal with disease, she now has to deal with it herself.
Her treatment would be successful, and she'd go into remission, but having to face that - while caring for the terminal kids at Brightcliffe - was going to be a very introspective arc for Stanton.
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What about the Living Shadow? It's Death, right? Well... no.
At the end of the season, Kevin will die... followed shortly by Ilonka. And as she is dying, two things will happen. First, she'll find herself talking to the Janitor, played by Robert Longstreet... and she'll make a discovery.
HE is Death. And nothing to be afraid of. It turns out no one else ever saw this character. Stanton has a cleaning service, and the Nurse practitioners make up the rooms - the only people who ever saw this mysterious Janitor were the patients. He is Death, and offers them kind words before they die. Then what was the Shadow?
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This is an idea we take directly from the book REMEMBER ME, and we'll see it play out in the final moments of Ilona's final tale. In Pike's book, Shari is pursued by a dark entity called The Shadow. When it finally catches her, though, it turns out it is not a bad thing at all.
The Shadow is THEMSELVES. It's the Unknown. As it engulfs someone, in the last moment of their life, it takes them through a place of understanding and catharsis, preparing them for the next step.
THIS is what happened to Anya in S1 when the Shadow finally reached her - that's why she fantasized a life beyond Brightcliffe, which ultimately let her find acceptance of her death. It looks different for everybody, depending on their mind-set - because it is simply an extension of themselves.
The Shadow is just the final catharsis, a return to our original form - it is a moment of true understanding, and once we experience it, we move on to the next place.
We see the Shadow in full effect when it finally comes for Kevin. KEVIN DIES with Ilonka at his side, and it leads to the biggest reveal of the season:
Who were the Mirror Man and the Cataract Woman?
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They were Stanley Oscar Freelan and his wife, who built Brightcliffe (fun trivia, he is named after the real-life Freelan Oscar Stanley, who built my favorite hotel in America - the Stanley Hotel. The Stanley is also the inspiration for THE SHINING!).
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But more than that... there's a reason that Ilonka only sees Stanley in the mirror, and sees the Cataract Woman whenever she looked at Kevin. This is something else we took from Pike's original book... these aren't ghosts, but glimpses of PAST LIVES.
Ilonka WAS Stanley Oscar Freelan, and Kevin WAS his wife. They've lived many lives this way, and are true SOUL MATES - they always find each other, and they always fall in love. In this life, they knew it would be a short one, so they agreed to find each other in the house they built. They've been "remembering" who they are, and glimpsing their former selves in reflections, and sometimes when they look at each other. This is also why Ilonka's very first words to Kevin in S1 were "Do I know you?" and why Kevin thought she was familiar as well. They are two souls who always find each other, again and again.
The story is this: Stanley was dying, and built this cliffside home hoping that the seaside air would help him. It did, and he far outlived his prognosis (this is also true of the real-life Freelan Stanley). However, his wife began to succumb to dementia.
She would wander the halls, looking for him ("Darling!") and would even forget to feed herself ("I'm starving...") and she eventually refused to leave the basement. Heartbroken for her, Stanley painted the walls to resemble the woodland view, and the ceiling to resemble the night sky, so that it would be a little more beautiful for her.
He also painted a labyrinth on the floor, which was a technique used to try to curb the effects of dementia. She'd walk the pattern of the maze and it was believed it could help her cognition. Eventually, she developed frightening cataracts, but Stanley loved her through it all.
They were soul mates.
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So while they seemed scary in season 1, that was just how Ilonka and Kevin's mind were trying to remember their pasts. We even had their faces distorting in ways consistent with how memories degrade over time. When the Shadow comes for Ilonka, and gives her this understanding - this "remembering" - she realizes she has nothing to fear. She and Kevin will shed these personas and be reborn, and have the joy of finding each other another way. The Shadow comes for her, Death takes her gently, and Ilonka goes off with Kevin back into the cosmos, ready for their next incarnation. The series would end with Cheri telling this story to a whole new table of patients, including our new series leads. Most of our original cast now would exist as stories, a story told to the next "class" of storytellers at the table, all of whom we will have met by the end of the season. A story called "The Midnight Club."
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Well, that's it... that was what we had in mind. It's a shame we won't get to make it, but it would be a bigger shame if you guys simply had to live with the unanswered questions and the cliffhanger ending. I loved making this show, and I am so proud of the cast and crew. Particularly our cast, who attacked this story with incredible spirit and bravery each and every day.
But for now, we'll put the fire out, and leave the library dark and quiet. To those before, and to those after. To us now, and to those beyond.
Seen or unseen, here but not here.
I'll always be grateful that I got to be part of this Club.
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evilminji · 10 months ago
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You Know How There Are Those AU? Where SUPER Injured Ghosts Need To Retreat To Their Core?
No one seems to be USING that to its fullest potential! For SHENANIGANS! Because! Who?? Could POSSIBLY carry a Halfa's Core safely... but another Halfa?! A FULL ghost would KILL them. A human would be killed! What terribly precarious peril we find ourselves in! Oh nooooooo!
Well, no worry!
As much as Dani fuckin HATES this. That there is her brother. Her Template. Her Clone Daddy and Bestest of Bros. Like HECK she's gonna let him suffer for centuries and possibly DIE. She can take it, Doc! Pop him in! We'll go road tripping and-
What do you MEAN "No"?
Unstable??! Of course she's unstable! But the-.... Oh.
Turns OUT? Dani? Can hitch a ride in DANNY for Emergency Medical Aid... but NOT the other way around. Her body is too loosely held together. He would parasiticly consume her from within. Instead of feeding off her Ecto System like injured ghosts are supposed too, because she's a CLONE? AND an unstable one at that? His Core would just... see her body as free ectoplasm. All of it.
He'd eat her.
Which mean Frostbite can not and WILL NOT allow that.
But he's HURT! That big, off screen, cataclysmic Fight To Save Everybody From *cough cough mumbles* and settle us all in the DC universe, REALLY messed him up! What are we supposed to DO!? He can't STAY like this!!!
Enter-> My FAVORITE DCxDP Trash Ship! Vlad&Lex!!! *horrified screaming from the crowds, someone shouts "oh god, no! Please!"* Ha! There are no gods here, silly billys! Only two terrible, terrible HIGHLY Dramatic, self serving, incredibly damaged, gay peacocks. In Business Suits that cost more then your house is worth.
They're AWFUL~♡
And! Vlad was sent ahead to lay the ground work. Insure there would be no GIWs. Also because no one could stand him and his EXTENSIVE criminal record. But that's besides the point.
But!
You know what he found? A Business Nemesis. Who he routinely dates and/or Dramatically Hate Fu-*coughs* I mean, attempts a Corporate Take Over(tm) off. You know how it is. Business. He ALSO gets to make it no secret he's a "Meta", thanks to the INCOMPETENCE of one Jack Fenton, because that- *seething rant*
Yet? Dispite his STILL burning hatred for Jack? And his finally letting go of Maddie? You know what he STILL wants?
For Danny to be his Son.
*Gets a call from Frostbite*
...............soooooo........ what you're SAYING is..... I can be pregnant with Daniel.
You, Frostbite, need ME, Vladimir Masters, THE ONLY OTHER HALFA, to carry Daniel around inside my body, in what to all appearances resembles a pregnancy, in order to heal him. Because I am an Older And Stronger Halfa Upon Which He Relies.
:)
*instantly begins plotting*
Just? Imagine. Vlad is a FUCKIN LIAR. No one but him would even KNOW what was going on! He just? Rocks up one day, like? *falsely demure* "oh I couldn't POSSIBLY has any scotch, Lex! >:) I'm eating for Two~☆" and just? Deals the MAXIMUM amount of psychic damage he can.
Probably says it at their weekly, public, Veiled Threats Brunch.
It makes front page news. Luthor choked on his eggs. The paparazzi lost their SHIT. Vlad is doing the FULL Celebrity Mom Thing. The classes. The photo shoots. The Gucci sunglasses as he peruses high end strollers. All while HEAVILY suggesting that not only is "The Baby" Lex's.... but that he's going to withhold the child and deny Lex any access.
Danny isn't even aware. He's in a lovely lil medical coma. Dani is trying to find a good spot to plop down Amity. She just know Vlad is being... Vlad. Meh. He can handle it. Dan? He's not even IN the human realm and is not sure he wants to be.
But over in the LEAGUE? Everything's on fuckin FIRE.
Kon is losing his SHIT and Clark is thousand yard staring into the void. Kon's half brother is in the hands of a... Less Then Ideal... Meta that Batman is PRETTY sure is highly suspect. Might be a deliberate weapons experiment. Certainly is a hostage. And the DRAMA.
Lex has never been worse.
He might actually stab his...partner? Vlad. At the hospital. The SECOND the child is born. There are already long term kidnapping plans in the making. He's hiring lawyers. Getting VICIOUS. There have been talks with DEATHSTROKE. By BOTH OF THEM.
Clark wants to cry.
@hypewinter @ailithnight @nerdpoe @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @babbling-babull
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ckret2 · 2 months ago
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Chapter 68 of human Bill Cipher not looking much like the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he's just vibing on the porch: Mabel's riding high on the success of making Bill two whole friends, Ford's dealing with curses... and let's see how that camera got cursed in the first place.
####
Mabel asked, "What about Aaron Laarson?"
"I don't know," Candy said, "Aaron is cute, but he isn't a very good dancer. That's very important to me in a teen pop idol."
"He's a really good actor, though," Grenda said. "You should see him in Hot Models 2: Runway Boogaloo!" Candy looked thoughtful.
They'd spent the last thirty minutes chattering, with Grenda and Candy sitting on Bill, who was now laying his upper body on the couch cushion he'd been assaulted with earlier but otherwise hadn't moved. To all appearances, Bill was sound asleep—he even breathed like he was asleep—but every once in a while, he'd pipe up with something like, "Don't get too attached to Aaron Laarson. He's dying in a kayaking accident next summer."
Grenda groaned in disappointment. Candy said, "He should have spent that time practicing dancing instead of kayaking."
Mabel caught movement in the corner of her eye, and started when she saw Ford and Dipper. "Uh oh. I didn't expect them to come in on this side of the house."
Across the clearing, Ford shouted, "Mabel, what the devil is he doing outside with—!"
Mabel shouted, "It's okaaay, I got permission from Grunkle Staaan, I love yooou!"
Ford hesitated. "Well... if Stan okayed it."
Dipper looked at Mabel and her camera. Mabel looked at Dipper and his camera. They immediately started making the stupidest faces they could at each other's cameras. "Hey," Mabel said, "did you find the nightwigglies? It looks like they found yooou!"
Dipper self-consciously tugged up the vest he was using like a makeshift skirt. "We did! It was so great, we recorded some kind of ritual dance, how they make babies—" At Grenda's outburst of "Ewww!" he quickly clarified, "Not—not in a gross way—and we saw some kind of Nightwiggler god! It was amazing!"
"Wow! That's great!" Mabel said. "We summoned a demon and almost died."
"What?"
"By the way!" Mabel waved her camera at Ford. "Grunkle Ford, I kiiinda used your cursed camera by accident. Could you please uncurse the tape so I can keep the episode I filmed tonight? Goldie said the magic thingy he stuck on it will only keep it tame as long as the tape's in the camera."
"That's because it's technically the tape itself that's cursed, not the camera." Ford wondered if Bill had led Mabel to the camera.
"Can you uncurse it, though?"
"I think so. I'll see what I can do." Ford took the camera from Mabel. He decided not to comment on the girls' interesting makeup choices.
Bill opened one eye a sliver as he felt Ford and Dipper step on the porch, saw Ford's bare calf over his boot, and cracked up. "What happened to your pants! Did you try to join the Hokey Pokey?"
Ford gave Bill a withering look—caught sight of Bill's mismatched tween-girl-pencil-case/airbrushed-hot-rod eyeshadow, and laughed in surprise. "What happened to your face?"
"Aren't I beautiful?" Bill asked, lacing his hands under his chin (and making Ford snort again when he spied the multiple nail extensions on one hand). "Go on! Tell me I'm beautiful. I know I am."
"You're..." Ford was keenly aware that Mabel and her friends were probably behind this makeover, "...certainly colorful."
"Stanford, you flatterer!" Bill cackled.
Dipper headed inside, yawning. "I'm gonna... go to sleep or something."
That was a good idea; but Ford was hesitant to go in. He was loath to trust Bill unsupervised alone with a couple of vulnerable children, with no one to keep him in check but another child he'd already manipulated into helping him escape once.
But who was Ford to judge. Bill had manipulated him into helping him escape, too. He supposed Mabel could handle him as well as anyone else.
Grenda said, "I think we should watch Hot Models 2 anyway! It's got lots of cute boys! And girls, I guess." She turned to Bill. "Hey, do you like girls or boys?"
"Sometimes," Bill said. "Sure, I'm up for it. It's a pretty good satire of Big Fashion and I like the runway fight scene with the big light show."
To Ford, all Bill seemed to be doing was talking about movies, wearing stupid makeup, and being a chair for a couple of kids. It was so... normal.
It was something a person would do.
Ford made himself go inside. Maybe he'd start work on uncursing that tape for Mabel before he went to bed.
####
Bill had written a magic-negation seal on the back of a crumpled Mystery Shack receipt and attached it to the camcorder with an X of clear tape. Ford had only used that seal twice in his life. Once, thirty years ago, when Bill had taught it to him. And once last fall, when Ford had attempted to draw it in the Book of Bill to prevent its anomalous effects. Bill's book had absorbed the seal into its page until it disappeared—then burped. At least the symbol still seemed to work on the camcorder.
Ford tried to rewind the tape to the beginning; something inside the camcorder caught and made a nasty sound. He grimaced and hit the stop button. That wasn't good. He carefully peeled off the magic-negation seal, popped the cassette tape out of the camera, and examined it. 
He pushed up the cassette's guard panel, but where there should have been a strip of magnetic tape running beneath it, there was nothing. The tape must have snapped. As he tried to inspect the damage, the cassette jumped and rattled in his hand, trying to snap the guard panel shut on his finger like it wanted to bite him.
"Stop that," Ford chided. "I'm trying to repair you." Would it listen? In his experience, objects animated by this particular curse tended to be consistently hostile. He might need to re-seal it.
To his surprise, the tape settled down sedately on his desk. That was more like it.
"Can you unreel the damaged ends of your tape?" If it could, that would save him the effort of disassembling the thing entirely.
After a short pause, the cassette flipped up its guard panel and extended two ends of broken tape.
"Thank you."
It looked like something had... burned? melted the tape? But what? The video cassette's casing was completely undamaged, how had something managed only to burn the tape inside?
Ford snipped off the damaged ends of the tape, used a little strip of masking tape to connect them back together, and carefully rewound the tape a few seconds with a pen. This was only a temporary repair; he'd have to transfer the contents of this cassette to an undamaged one. Mabel would probably want it digitized so she could make her video, too. But watching a few seconds wouldn't destroy it; and he wanted to know whether the camera had recorded whatever damaged the tape.
He carefully removed the smallest of Project Mentem's undamaged monitors, moved it to his worktable, plugged in a VHS-C player, and slid the cassette in.
As he started to play back the recording—the first thing on the screen was one of Mabel's terrified-looking friends—the monitor trembled and jumped, banging heavily as it landed back on Ford's worktable.
"Oh, behave." Ford peeled the magic-negating seal off the camcorder and slapped it on the TV. It immediately stilled. Some gratitude for repairing that tape.
When Ford turned his attention back to the screen, Mabel's friend's face had been replaced by Bill's, his curls filling the edges of the screen.
"Gold-O! You came back!" "Hey, Grend-O. Sorry for the wait..."
As Ford watched, Bill grappled with the camera, eventually managed to get a grip on it, and stared it down with nearly enough fury to make Ford forget the goofy eyeshadow. "Now let's get this straight. Everything beneath this shack's roof is my domain and under my protection! If you want to hurt anyone here—you'll have to get through m—"
The scene cut straight to Mabel's face as it skipped over the damaged section he'd had to cut out. "Welcome back to Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers! Weee're—"
Ford stopped the tape. Huh.
Huh.
####
As soon as Candy and Grenda were gone, Mabel flung her arms around Bill. "Thank you for being nice to my friends," she said. "Especially Grenda. I'm so glad you liked them both after all!"
Liked them? He'd been a charming host to them, but. "Did I?"
"Yes," Mabel informed him firmly. "You did."
Well, he figured he must've, then. And Grenda had grown on him. She'd complimented his eyes, she admired gross things, she had very intelligent opinions on amphibians in general and axolotls in particular... "Hey, any friend of my friend is a friend of mine!"
"That's so much better than what I was trying to say." Mabel let go of him, beaming. "Wanna hang out with them again sometime?"
"Sure!" Bill said, shrugging. "We still have to watch some dumb action comedy movies."
"Great! I'll let them know the next sleepover's over here!" She ran upstairs.
Calling her friends to arrange the next sleepover before they'd even gotten home. Yeah—that was generally how Bill planned his parties, too.
Looked like his social circle for the foreseeable future consisted of three little girls. Wasn't ideal, but he could work with that. He'd always liked getting invited to girls' nights. And maybe at future sleepovers he could talk the kids into some real fun. When they weren't trying to keep quiet, he knew, they fed off each other's chaos. And he was sure there was a budding pyromaniac lurking in Candy's heart.
####
Ford nodded as he passed Stan in the entryway. "Just getting up?"
"Yep. Just going to bed?"
Ford shrugged ruefully. "Afraid so. We got some terrific footage last night, though."
"Oh, yeah? Anything sellable?"
"That's up to Dipper, but I think there's good potential. Bare minimum, I'd bet some cryptozoology documentaries would be interested in his findings."
"Hey, all right! Not bad for a night's work." Stan passed by, headed for the bathroom.
And Ford almost headed on to the guest bedroom—but, reluctantly made himself turn toward the kitchen.
Bill was sitting at the table, sipping at a can of cider with an empty one already on the table in front of him, staring out the window at the morning. He didn't usually drink that heavily this early; it probably meant he was heading to bed soon. The girls must have kept him up all night. Dipper had regaled Ford with tales of what Mabel's sleepovers were like.
"Bill."
"Hm?"
He should have gotten straight to business. Instead, he said, "I watched some of Mabel's video from last night."
Bill glanced over at him. (He still had that ridiculous makeup.) "Oh, yeah?"
Under my protection. Did he consider himself the household's guardian—or its owner? "I..." Ford cleared his throat. "I wondered about—the symbol you painted on your hand to disable the camera. That part of the tape melted, and—I assume it was light-activated, which means it must be different from the seal I already know, so...?"
Bill's face had immediately closed off. He turned away. "You're not my student."
Ford was surprised at how much that felt like a slap to the face. He should have been glad—he'd finally managed to get Bill to agree with what he'd been telling him all summer—but he hadn't expected Bill to ever give up. (He hadn't expected Bill to ever change.)
But he probably hadn't really given up. No doubt he was giving Ford the cold shoulder to see if he begged Bill's forgiveness.
"No. I suppose I'm not." He trudged into the kitchen, rummaged in his coat pocket, and dropped a leather pouch on the table. "Anyway, I'm just here to drop this off."
Bill reached for it, stopped himself, and warily asked, "What is it?"
"The rest of my nutrition pills from my interdimensional travels." When he'd lost his trench coat to the lake during the eclipse last week, he'd had to dig out the old tattered one he'd worn during his travels, and he'd happened to find his pills at the same time. It had occurred to him to bring them up while he was working on Mabel's tape. They were tricky to synthesize, but they lasted forever and the ingredients could be found in almost any dimension—whether there was anything otherwise edible for humans or not. 
Bill eyed him suspiciously; but he opened the pouch's snap and peeked into the resealable plastic bag. They didn't look like "pills" so much as small balls of incredibly dense dark brown bread, each about the size of a wad of bubblegum. "Whyyy?"
"To make up the difference in your diet until we figure out the food problem," Ford said. "They're formulated so that four a day meets a human's... well, meets my nutritional needs. I haven't looked into your..." vague gesture, "body... type."
"Is this your emergency stash?"
"It... was." Stan had persuaded Ford to get back onto normal food (as much of a waste of time as it was), but he still had this stash left.
"Why are you giving me your emergency stash."
"Because... I'm not having an emergency and you are?" It was better than a couple of avocados and some hot sauce. Honestly, he should have thought to go looking for his nutrition pills weeks ago. If he'd realized just how severe they'd made Bill's situation... or how stubborn Bill would be about asking for help... or that they'd ever plan to keep Bill around long enough that his nutrition would be an issue.
Bill squinted at him, and for a moment Ford thought he was about to start a fight for some insane reason; but then the air seemed to leak out of him, his shoulders sagged, and he just looked at the nutrition pills. "For starters, they'll need more than twice as much iron."
"That much?"
"And more vitamin D, I don't remember the numbers right now." He shut the pouch, sat back, and lifted his cider can again. "All right."
All right? Ford supposed that was all he was getting. He turned to go.
As he did, Bill said, "Bed?"
Ford glanced back. "Yes?"
"Fine," Bill said. "Have nightmares."
He couldn't help letting out a laugh. "Fine. You too."
"It's too late for you to start trying to sweet-talk me like that, Stanford Pines!" But he tilted his can toward Ford—cheers—chugged down the rest, and cracked open a third.
####
Dipper was already in bed when Mabel charged in. He rolled over slightly, saw she was still in her sleepover pajamas, and mumbled, "Going to sleep too?"
She rummaged around in the closet by the door. "I can't waste that kind of time!" She retrieved a shoe box full of the wooden models of the townspeople she'd crudely whittled last summer at a library arts & crafts program run by Wendy's dad. She dumped them out on the floor, and, for lack of a figure representing Bill, tore a corner off a stray sheet of notebook paper and drew his eye on it. "I've got to capitalize on last night's success!"
She snatched her pyramid prism off the windowsill and taped the paper eye on it. "Hey, you." She poked Bartholomew's cradle. "Why were you a big chicken in front of my friends?"
"What, with you waving that camera around?" Bartholomew said. "I didn't want it to know I have a soul to steal."
"You knew?! You jerk!" She gave the cradle a harder poke, rocking it slightly.
Dipper yawned. "Capitalize on what success? The demon summoning?"
"No! Helping Bill make two new friends!" Mabel sat on the floor, plopped the Bill prism down amidst the other wooden figures, and started setting them upright. Waddles waddled over to sniff at them.
"Oh." Dipper groaned and rolled back over.
"The next stage of his rehabilitation is expanding his social circle. Get him some normal friends that don't want to eat people or destroy moons or whatever!" She grabbed up the notebook paper again, tore it into sections, and wrote on each with the nearest gel pen: "Friends!!!" "Maybe" "NO" "Healthy ☆ Rivals" "♡ Potential dates? ♡" She added thoughtfully, "And maybe get him a love life. We had to chase off his last girlfriend."
Dipper groaned louder. "I don't wanna think about Bill dating. That dumb eye-bat was bad enough."
"She's not dumb, she's into avant-garde experimental films. And she watches them with subtitles. Bill said so." She placed her, Grenda's, and Candy's figures in the Friends section, tentatively placed Dipper halfway between Maybe and No after checking to make sure he wasn't watching, and then started scanning her collection for more likely friends. "Who in town do you think would date Bill Cipher?"
"Nobody. Everyone hates him."
She stuck Wendy and her gang in the "Friends!!!" section, she thought they were a safe bet. "Who do you think would date Bill if they don't know he's Bill?"
"Nobody." Dipper pulled his blanket over his head.
"Pbbt, don't be so negative! You've gotta believe in him." Blubs and Durland? They were probably his friends, right? She sorted them accordingly and added Lazy Susan to the "Maybe" section. "Just you watch. I'll have Bill reintegrated into society before the end of the summer!"
Mabel had picked out several more prospective friends for Bill before Dipper sighed, rolled over again, and said, "Why do you have to make friends for Bill?"
"Bro. Come on. When he's left to his own devices, he keeps talking about pulling people's veins out of their bodies or telling them secret information about their own childhoods. He's probably talking about something creepy right now."
####
"I'm telling you," Bill said, gesticulating emphatically with a cider can. "It works. Your cousins will never argue with you again, and you guarantee they'll be with you forever! It's the perfect way to permanently resolve family disputes!"
"I can see your logic," Stan said, grimacing. "However. I'm not eating my cousins."
"Not all your cousins," Bill insisted. "Just one, to send a message. You don't even need to eat the whole guy! Just half a limb or so. If you want to look like the bigger man, you can even let him choose which one."
Looking faintly nauseous, Stan shoved over his unfinished eggs and pancakes and stood. "What the heck was your home life like?"
"Oh, it was terrific. I was the family golden child." Bill dug into Stan's eggs. "I was everything your family hoped you'd be and was disappointed you weren't!" 
"Was that before or after you started eating your cousins?"
"I didn't say I did it. That's your species' thing." Bill said, with a lofty tone that suggested moral superiority, "We'reinedible."
"Ha!" Stan shook his head. "You talk a big game for a guy who's never eaten one family member!"
Bill snapped the tab off his cider can and flipped it at Stan's head.
####
"He's delightful, but he's an acquired taste," Mabel said. "He just needs somebody else to help mediate when he meets new people! Like letting two cats sniff each other under the door!"
"Okay, but why you?"
She thought about that, staring at the pyramid representing Bill; then she shrugged. "Somebody has to."
"They really don't."
"Somebody should," Mabel insisted. "I just really want to see him make friends with everybody here. It's like... making it up to the town for hurting them last year."
"I think leaving them alone would work better. After what he did, he doesn't deserve to be friends with anyone in town—"
"It's important to me, okay?" Mabel snapped. "It just is."
What was that for? Did she think he was criticizing her for befriending him? He mumbled, "I didn't mean you."
She was quiet a moment. "I know." 
"Sorry." Dipper was too tired for this conversation; he was just sticking his foot in his mouth. He yawned, muttered, "Good luck scheduling him a playdate, I guess," and rolled over.
####
After sleep and lunch, Ford returned to his study, set up a second blank video cassette to copy the damaged one's data, carefully rewound the damaged one all the way to the beginning, and watched it for the first time in over thirty years.
The recording was grainy and distorted now. It looked so old. This technology had been brand new when Ford had bought his video camera—so new that he'd had to order it from overseas, it hadn't been available in the United States yet. How quickly things changed.
The camera turned to take in Ford's own, younger, beaming face. "This is Dr. Stanford Pines, with the first of what will hopefully be many video recordings of the oddities in Gravity Falls." (In the present, Ford snorted.) "The subject of this first video is a series of magic symbols that, when combined, can animate inanimate objects. Any inanimate object."
He turned the camera around. Like a vampire's morbid pulpit, one of Ford's journals was laid open atop the lid of a black casket. Two heavy chains were laid across each side of the book and locked around the casket's handles to keep them tightly secured. A couple dozen pages in the middle of the book had been left free of the chains, but were pinned down by a cinderblock.
All the security measures were clearly needed; the book was thrashing in its restraints strongly enough to make the casket lid rattle. The visible text writhed across the journal's pages, words and symbols appearing and disappearing in the margins. The susurrations of the pages rubbing against each other sounded like the hissing of a trapped animal.
Ford tipped the cinderblock off the journal and pinned the pages down with his shoe instead. "Several days ago, a local director taught me the spell he used to animate clay figures for his movies. I'd thought perhaps he was creating golems, but aside from the superficial similarity of writing symbols to animate figures of mud, there doesn't seem to be any similarity between his ritual and any golem folklore I've ever heard. Furthermore, his creations are intelligent, capable of speech, and seem to remain loyal to their creator simply out of a passion for acting and respect for his directorial talents rather than any sort of magically-compelled loyalty." A wry note entered his voice. "And I can confirm that the spell itself certainly doesn't impart any loyalty."
 The page below his foot erased itself and replaced the text with large, angry text: "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO EARN MY LOYALTY?! YOU DOG EAR MY PAGES! YOU USE ME AS A CHOPPING BOARD!"
"Wh—! Who do you think you are, a Sefer Torah?! Don't be so precious! You're made of faux leather and craft paper, I'll dog ear you all I want!" Ford snapped. "And I already apologized for the chopping board thing!"
The journal stopped moving. "My cover isn't real leather?"
"On my budget?! The closest you've ever come to real cow hide is visiting the Sprott farm!"
While the journal was stunned silent, Ford scooted his foot aside so the camcorder could see a symbol on the opposite page—one of the few bits of ink that didn't seem to shift around the journal's pages. "This is the symbol the director taught me. But it's only supposed to work if you perform an accompanying ritual to activate and power it, which I haven't." He reached down with a gloved hand to flip the loose pages over, then pinned them again under his shoe to let him record another symbol. "This symbol is supposed to power magical artifacts. I suspect writing both these sigils together in the same book has caused them to interact in unexpected ways. But, by themselves, these two are insufficient to bring a book to life—I experimented by copying them both into Journal 1—so perhaps some of the other symbols or spells written in Journal 2 are contributing to—"
"WHAT?!" Journal 2 angrily scrawled around the perimeter of the second symbol. "You tried to bring that teacher's pet to life?! What's wrong with ME!"
"You mean, besides your completely uncooperative attitude, reckless abuse of magic, and murder attempts?" Ford ignored the journal's angry "shouting" as he went on, "But until I figure out what the other symbols are, my... anonymous informant on the occult—"
"You don't mean Creature #326? Tell me it's not Creature #326!"
"—has taught me a sigil that should be able to reverse the effects of the animation spell—"
A series of magical sigils flashed across the journal's page and were quickly replaced by "HA-HA-HA!" The camera shuddered.
"What was that?!" Ford set the camera on the casket where it could watch as he tried to pin down Journal 2's fluttering pages and write on it. "We'll see who's laughing in a minute, you— Stop erasing what I write!" Ford tugged out a sticky note that had been serving as bookmark, hastily scribbled on it, and slapped it into the journal. "Ha!"
The book immediately fell still.
Ford grabbed up a tape dispenser from the floor, pulled off a short strip, and attached the sticky note more securely to the page. "Well. That was effective." He flipped through the journal. "Furthermore, it looks like all the changes Journal 2 made to itself have been reverted. Good. It defaced a lot of data I'd hate to have to reproduce..." As he spoke, the camera slowly rose into the air.
He turned to pick it up, flinched, and quickly got to his feet. "Oh! Uh. Hello."
"Hello," the camera echoed in Ford's voice.
"How did you...?" Ford smacked his forehead, eyes wide with amazement! "Of course! My recording! The symbols my journal wrote! This is fascinating. Recording the symbols on magnetic tape must be just as effective as writing them on paper, even if the symbols aren't visible without specialized equipment. I'll have to experiment with other methods of... of..." Ford petered off as the camera slowly floated higher. He held out a hand hopefully. "Please come back?"
"No," the camera said. "Please give me your soul."
"No." Ford took a deep breath, set Journal 2 on the casket, and flexed his fingers. "Okay. Let's do this again."
As the Ford of thirty-odd years ago wrestled with the camera on the TV screen, the much older Ford sighed. That had been fun. Exploring the bizarre and aberrant had still been fun, back then. That thought disconcerted him; was it no longer fun now? He supposed it still was to an extent. He was just worse at having fun. Harder to dazzle.
He wondered why Journal 2 had been so wary of Creature #326. Bill. It had been right, he was Ford's "anonymous informant"—Ford had told him about his hostile new living journal in a dream, and after Bill had finished laughing, he'd taught Ford how to counteract the spell activating it.
But how did it know?
Could it have warned him about Bill?
Ford would never find out now.
The TV went dark as, in the recording, Ford trapped the camera inside a box. Slightly muffled, Ford said, "Try getting out of that!" Under his breath, he muttered, "I think I prefer writing over narrating anyway."
The screen remained dark for another ten seconds as the camera bumped around and muttered to itself. And then it abruptly cut to a shot of Dipper's bed. Off-screen, Mabel's voice said, "Awesome, still works!" She set the camera on the table under the kids' window—
That was what Ford was looking for. He rewound several seconds and began transferring the recording of Mabel's sleepover onto a fresh tape he'd prepared earlier.
After that, maybe he'd go back to the start again so he could see the other symbols Journal 2 had flashed at the camera and copy them into Journal 5—onto a page already prepared with the magic-negating seal.
####
In the Nightmare Realm, a red book with a golden handprint on the cover boldly labeled "2" floated alone in the void, as it had since it had been tossed in the bottomless pit a year ago.
Its tattered pages were splayed open as it drifted weightlessly through the aether.
On one page near the center of the book, a sticky note with a seal drawn on it was attached to the page with a strip of tape, and surrounded by a warning never to erase the symbol on the sticky note.
The tape had lost its stick after decades buried outdoors; it stuck to the sticky note, but not to the book. The sticky note was barely holding on by a corner.
And as the book slowly wheeled through the void, the last corner peeled off, and the sticky note fluttered away.
Journal 2's pages rustled.
####
(I think y'all who have been keeping up with my posts about this fic know exactly what's coming next. 😎
Thaaat's right. 😎😎
An unrelated flashback chapter!!!
Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, let me know what you think!)
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mattslolita · 6 months ago
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꒰ older bf!matt sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons !
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𓇼 ⋆。˚ 𓆝⋆。˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆。˚ 𓆝⋆。˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆。˚ 𓆝⋆。˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆。˚ 𓆝⋆。˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆。˚ 𓆝
𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅…
love showing his affection for you, whether it'd be little forehead kisses or holding your hand, he always shows you affection.
he loves giving you gentle rubs along your back, and his hand is always on your thigh comfortingly everywhere you go.
when his hand isn't intertwined with yours, it's in the back pocket of your jeans or on your waist above your little miniskirt.
𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅…
spoil the fuck out of you.
when you're out shopping or at the mall and he sees the way your eyes will roam longingly over a certain top or some pretty stockings, he's instantly putting them in your cart.
he never lets you pay for your own stuff. he's a rich youtuber, there's no way he's not gonna smother you with gifts or whatever you want.
"matt, it's okay i can pay-"
"relax doll, don't you worry your pretty little head about paying. you know i'm gonna pay regardless."
𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅…
do random acts of dominance, always showing you that he was in charge.
he'd open doors for you, bend down to tie your shoes for you, have an almost death grip on your waist when you were out in public.
give any man who even looked your way a death glare and if he felt necessary he'd go as far as to start a fight if needed.
be so possessive. you're his girl.
𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅…
be there to comfort you when you were feeling down.
he'd wipe away your tears and hold you close as you told him about whatever was saddening, frustrating, or angering you.
if you were on your period, he's instantly bringing home some pain medicine, chocolates, and whatever snacks you want.
"i'm at the store right now angel, whatcha in the mood for?"
"can you please bring me some hershey's kisses? and i want oreos, too."
"anything for you, sweetheart."
𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅…
make you his number one priority, literally dropping anything he's doing just to make sure you're okay.
if you called about being sick, he's bringing you medicine. when he gets home to you, he'll give you a massage if you request one.
if you needed a ride anywhere, best believe you're his passenger princess! his hand will rub soft circles on your thigh as you ride around with him.
"can you pick me up from sasha's at around twelve?"
"of course sweetheart, just call me when you're ready."
"i love you baby, i'll see you later!"
𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅…
call you all these cute pet names — 'sweetheart', 'doll', 'angel', 'princess,' 'pretty girl'.
he'd have a special one he calls you, one that reminds him of you because of your style and the clothes you wear, always prancing around in your grey or pink mini skirts with little ribbons lining your hair, you reminded him of a snow bunny.
"matt please, i miss you! can we stay like this for a little longer?"
"c'mon bunny, you know I have to work. i'll make it up to you tonight, alright sweet girl?"
"i'll be waiting!"
𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅!𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅…
take his time while pleasuring you — he's all about taking care of you first, making sure he does you right.
"fuck, you feel so good, matt..."
"yeah? my tongue makin' you feel good, angel? cum for me."
he uses his older age to his advantage, always telling you how much he wants to ruin your innocence while he's fucking you in missionary.
"fuck, you feel so good squeezing my cock. such an innocent girl, didn't know you could be so dirty..."
"i'm gonna ruin you princess, this sweet ass pussy belongs to me."
"look me in my eyes sweet girl, need to see you when i fuck my seed inside of you."
lil 💌
older!boyfriend!matt brainrot is too real i fear.
@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @junnniiieee07 @astrowh0r3 @v33angel @ilovechrissturniolo1 @e1ias3 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturn777 @stasiesturn @prettypinkprincess15 @breeloveschris @summerssover @mayhem-72 @riasturns @chrissturniolossidehoe @moonk1ss3d @v33angel @h3arts4harry @stargirll567 @bitchydragonparadise @heartsforchrisandmatt @pepsienthusiasts @tillies33ssss @thenickgirl @sturnprime @summerssover @k4di333 @pinksturniolo @middlepartmatt
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bunnys-kisses · 3 months ago
Note
Hi! Can I have a croissant alongside a banana bread with a side of vodka shot with Toto Wolff please?
bakery menu
want to submit your own order? check out the menu! i write for more than just formula one so hit me with it! thank you to his anon for the lovely order and i hope you love it! this was a pleasure to write!! <3
croissant ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + banana bread ("i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name.") + vodka shot (rough sex) served by toto wolff (formula one)!
cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), horner!reader, daddy kink, daddy issues, yacht sex, references to lestappen, clothed male/naked woman
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rumors were a dirty thing on the grid. they could hurt people and there were efforts to keep them from spreading too far. this was less of a rumor and more of an open secret that no one really acknowledged.
if they did, that meant having to know that chrisitan horner's daughter was sleeping with toto wolff.
you liked toto, you had for some time. there was something about him that drew you in. those large hands, that smile, how determined he was to his job. he was a dedicated man.
just like he was dedicated to making you feel good in all aspects.
it was summer break for formula one, and while your father was in england for the time being. you were in monaco under the guise of seeing friends. your father was hesitant to let you go away for so long, it was a long time away.
"be safe. not too much partying. i need you to call me or at least text me. and if any of those driver boys try to get too close, do not hesitate to hit, punch or whatever."
you nodded as you held you carry on bag close to your chest, "i know, daddy. don't worry!" it wasn't even like you had any interest in any of those drivers, older than you were like old man and younger than you were like annoying younger brothers.
plus, you were already taken.
not that your father knew that. when you hugged him before getting into the car to the airport, you felt giddy. you were constantly texting toto when you got on the phone. thankfully the plane ride wasn't too long and your loving boyfriend met you at the airport in nice.
you giggled and ran into the man's arms.
it was a beautiful sunny afternoon when toto took you out on the boat. but his eyes were on more than just the water as he got everything ready. the sight of you in a white two-piece swimsuit.
you giggled when he took you by the waist, the boat still at the dock. you curled into him and held onto the front of his white button up.
he said to you as he took you by the chin, "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me."
you shook your head, "no, no. he thinks i'm with friends. i have to get verstappen to cover for me so my father will be less worried." you got on your tip-toes and kissed him on the lips.
"oh, so you told verstappen. i thought this was supposed to be a secret."
you tapped your lover's nose, "mutual agreement." you giggled, "if he tried to go to the press about us." you smiled brightly, "i have something ten times worse."
toto got closer to in your space and asked, "and what exactly what would that be?" curiosity got the best of him. usually he didn't get into the affairs of drivers, especially if they weren't working for him.
you shrugged, "remember that text message i got from him about that emergency, because he was stuck at that hotel near where we were?"
toto's hands rubbed your shoulders as he said, "yes. i remember that."
"yeah, he was stuck with leclerc." you smiled, "so, we have a mutual agreement to not spill the beans about the other." you leaned in to kiss toto on the lips, "my father may have a meltdown if he knew we were together. he'd burst a blood vessel if charles and max came out." but you said, "i'm happy for them." then kissed toto on the lips again.
the man wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him. he enjoyed the feeling of your lips against him. your body warmed from the sun against him.
you were barely clothed and he was still in a button up and pants. he placed a large hand on your ass and gave it a squeeze. he looked down at you and smiled, "you look very beautiful." he said to you.
"you're not too bad yourself. i thought about wearing that 'tacky' swimsuit i got online that one time just to rile you up." you giggled.
toto's lips were on your neck as he placed both hands on your ass. then gave the cheeks a squeeze, "i told you to not wear that."
it was a two piece swimsuit that was barely held together by strings. but the pattern on the cups and bottoms were of off-brand hot sauce bottles. toto had bought you so many nice swimsuits over your time together, so there was no need to wear it.
"but, why it shows how spicy i am." you winked.
he groaned and shook his head, "schatzi, please." he got you on the couch that was on the deck and had his hands on your hips. he leaned in and kissed you on the lips.
you two were in the semi-public, but it would be hard to see unless someone is right next to the boat. it only made it more erotic to you, the possibility of someone seeing.
you straddled his waist and rubbed your barely clothed pussy up against his lap which made the older man groan. he knew that this shouldn't be happening. it was bad enough he was wrapped around the fingers of a woman young enough to be his daughter, but on top that you were the daughter of one of his bigger rivals.
but the way you melted in his arms and rubbed against his cock made him feel otherwise, in all fairness, you were a legal adult who could make her own choices. even if your father was a little protective.
you kissed him square on the mouth and he took you by the hips. he rubbed his clothed cock up against you. you groaned a little bit and kissed him more.
"you're prettier when you're on top." he chuckled as he massaged your hips, "but you always know that you could end up underneath me at anytime. because you're a good girl, right? my good girl."
you nodded, feeling the heat in your cheeks. you rubbed up a little further and said, "of course, toto."
he reached and tapped your nose, "toto?" he tilted his head to the side, "there's another name you like to call me, no?"
you swallowed, "you're an insatiable old man."
he pressed himself further against you and replied, "i may be, schatzi. but i'm still your daddy."
you blushed further before you took off the swimsuit top and he groped at your breasts with his large hands. he groaned a little bit before he grabbed onto your hips then pushed down the bottoms off of you.
you were naked and working to get toto's cock out of his pants. you swallowed when you caught sight of it. you stroked it softly and he shuddered. all you had to say about his cock was that it was proportionate to his over six foot frame.
"i'm going to fuck that sweet pussy of yours until the only word your little brain can form is my name." he said.
"mmm, please." you whimpered.
he rubbed the back of your head and smiled at you as you gazed at his cock. you two were out in the open, but had a bit of privacy to continue your little affairs. you kissed him deeply as he seated you onto his cock.
his jaw tensed at the feeling of your slick pussy around his cock. you were a dream, he couldn't believe that horner's daughter was the woman of his dreams. but as he groped your soft flesh, that didn't matter. all he wanted was you, he wanted the pretty little thing that bounces on his cock with ease.
you whimpered and dug your fingers into the meat of his shoulders. you rolled your hips up and down his cock. you said, "shit, daddy! ah! please"
he hissed through his teeth when his cock nudged against some of the softest parts of you. he groaned and buried his face into your breasts as he moved against you.
the two of you moved in time with each other. you could feel his teeth against your breasts which only turned you on more. he felt so good, it was like a little addiction.
"daddy, ah!" you whimpered.
"you're so beautiful." he said, "when i saw you on the track, it took everything in my power not to lead you away from your father and fuck the daylights out of you."
you groaned, "c'mon daddy, don't talk about him right now. i need your cock more than anything." you whimpered as you continued to move up and down on his cock.
it felt so snug inside of you and the pace you were using was rough. but it excited you, it made you hot all over. your breasts bounced in front of his face, it was very hot.
"fuck, please. you are so fucking good, daddy. it's not fair. no one else has ever been able to fuck me the way you do." you whined. your sexual history was primarily made up of interactions with toto.
he had to taught you most of what you knew about sex, at least in a pleasurable sense. he was the first person to make you cum. you thought that orgasms were reserved for you and your toys. but toto proved you wrong.
"i need you daddy." you whimpered.
"you have me." he replied as he continued to kiss you. his kisses lingered on your collarbones as you rode him. it felt so good. he was a divine lover.
you kept up your pace and felt the pleasure course through your body. your pretty tits bounced with each movement. you looked so nice naked, he loved the sight of your body.
you fit him like a glove.
his kisses were sloppy as you dug your nails into his shoulders. the pleasure bounced in his head as he moved against you. his cock hitting all the right places.
"please, daddy. i only want you. i never want to fuck anyone else."
he grabbed you by the head and said, "good, because no one else will ever touch you."
you soon climaxed, your voice filled the open air. but toto pulled you into a searing kiss, his grip on you was tight as he bullied his cock into your poor bruised cunt. you'd be feeling it all by morning. he continued his movements against you. you panted wildly and felt the flash of heat through your body. you moaned, "please, daddy."
"i've got you, schatzi." he said then groaned.
you slowed down your pace and rested against your lover's chest. you could feel his quick pulse. you enjoyed the feeling of him inside of you. but it didn't take long before he started to thrust up into you again.
he groaned, "i need you more, schatzi." he gripped onto your hips tightly and moved up into you, "i only have a few weeks with you before you have to go back to your father. and i want to make sure i've touched all over you, and you don't forget my touch."
you moaned, you wouldn't mind going another round. or maybe another three rounds. after all, you needed your daddy. and you wanted to make sure you that you felt every inch of him in return.
when he groped your ass, you squirmed.
"please, daddy. i need you."
-
the end of the summer break spelled the dutch grand prix. hamilton and russell were sitting waiting for their time to get going. russell looked at his teammate and asked, "did you see wolff?"
"what's going on with him?"
russell stretched out on the couch and little, "saw him with horner's daughter during break. i passed by his boat and found her in next to nothing."
"ah, c'mon, now you're just spreading rumors!" hamilton got closer, "but i am curious to know what you apparently saw there, mate." rumors were a dirty thing on the grid, but sometimes the information was just too delicious. <3
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loonylupinblack3 · 3 months ago
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Hellooooo, I was wondering if you could do some sfw and nsfw alphabet head canon for our beloved Wolverine?? 😝😝💗💕
NSFW ALPHABET
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: smut, literally so much shit i can't be bothered putting it all in here 😭
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: never done one of these before but it was fun so enjoy
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Logan is always in a good mood after sex. He'll make sure you're alright, that he didn't go too rough or hurt you, and then he'd just have you in his arms. He'd be content.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of their partner’s)
Logan is a thigh man 😌 he fucking loves your thighs, loves squeezing them when you're sitting together on a couch or when he's driving. He loves being between them and when your thighs squeeze around his head he is a GONE man. Often holds you down by your thighs when he's fucking you.
C = Cum (where they like to cum)
Logan loves cumming inside you. He fucks you raw and loves the feeling of his cum spurting inside your cunt. It makes him crazy, feels like he's claiming you as his, he can't get enough of it.
Often watches it drip out of you just to shove it back in (he Loves cumstuffing 😩)
He also loves coming on your stomach and back, painting you with his cum, but again, he'll cum in you at least once when you're fucking, he can't not give you a cream pie 
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He loves the idea of being your first. It's not necessarily a corruption kink, it's more of being able to be the person to introduce you to new things, to be the only person you think of when you think about sex. To be able to talk you through it, teach you tricks, ect.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Obviously Logan has experience what with being hundreds of years old. He loves to try new positions with you, showing you new things and doing stuff with you you haven't done before. He likes introducing you to things and over his 200 years alive he’s experienced A Lot of things
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Logan’s not very picky with his positions. Loves missionary so he can see your face when you come, watching what he’s doing to you. Also loves going behind so he can slam into you and be as rough as he wants. However he’s not opposed to you being on top and riding him, and fucking loves the idea of you using him to get off.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Definitely more serious. He'll play with you and tease you and flirt while fucking you, but he doesn't make jokes or laugh during sex. He gets too wrapped up in fucking you.
H = Hair (do they like hair pulling?) 
He'll pull your hair All The Time. Almost painfully so, pulling you back to him when you try to squirm away, when you’re giving him a blowie (also makes u wear his mask sometimes so he can pull on the blow handles)
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) 
As we know Logan has Issues with intimacy and it often comes as a hard thing for him. Often sex with you is just sex, but thet are some moments where he's fucking you that he feels safe enough to confess his intimacy to you. He's not vulnerable often, but the few times he is it's usually when you're fucking, and he feels safe enough, in power enough, to tell you things.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Logan usually relies on his memories of you when masterbating. He’s an oldie, so doesn’t take many pics/videos of u when fucking (he’s also literally so consumed with fucking you he wouldn’t even think to remember it if he wanted to). Often Calls You, however, and lets you ramble about your day while he gets off to the sound of your voice
“Anything else happen?” he rasps while grunting, pumping his shaft.
“Are you jerking off-”
“Keep talking darlin’, I'm not done yet,” he orders.
And of course you continue.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding is a big one. He loooooves cumming inside of you, filling you with his cum. Never been a fan of wrapping before tapping as they say, so you’re def on birth control. Even so he’ll often whisper dirty things in ur ear abt breeding bc you both just Get Off to that shit
“Gonna breed all my babies into you”
“Fuck, can’t wait to pump you full of my cum, gonna look so pretty pregnant”
ect.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Logan loves to take you away on spontaneous vacation weekends to a lodge cabin in the middle of the mountains, no one else around, and just Fuck you. He goes on all weekend, loving that you’re both alone with no possible interruptions. He goes crazy about having you all to himself.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Tbh you being angry with him, yelling and pointing fingers makes him soooo horny. Angry make up sex is a usual and the ones that go on the longest. He loves taking his pent out aggression on you <3
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Doesn’t like doing anything while you’re sleepy/asleep/drunk/ect. He wants you to know what’s happening, to be invested and feel what he’s doing to you. He’s also around dead ppl a lot (obviously) so having u asleep would remind him too much of dead people and it would just Not be the vibe :/
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Logan is a giver!!! Repeat it with me!! He’s been around for hundreds of years, he’s hot, people have given him blowjobs left and right. Yet there’s only ever been one of you. He’s never had you before, never tasted you or fingerfucked you so ofc he’s so much more obsessed with eating out your pussy to think about receiving anything. (also, with his amount of experience, every time he does eat you out u literally have an out of body experience)
HOWEVER that’s not to say logan doesn’t enjoy receiving. Oh my lord, even if u gave the worst blowjobs in the history of Everything, the knowledge that it was your mouth around his dick would be enough to make him cum (except he’s def taught u a few tricks to make the experience even better for him)
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Bro… do we even need to specify….
Logan is the roughest guy you’ve ever been with. When he gets turned on he gets turned on and doesn’t stop until your limp beneath him unable to form a single coherent sentence. He loves making you cockdrunk and his dumb little fuck toy.
“Oh don’t worry baby, you just stay there and let me fuck you okay? There’s a good fuck toy.” ect.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Tbh Logan is not a fan of quickies. Like if he reeaaally needs it, like if you’re wearing that red dress he bought you that leaves barely anything to the imagination, sure, he’ll have a quickie (becaus tbh how could he not?)
But usually he prefers to wait until you have enough time because he is THOROUGH. He will fuck you over and over, in every single position like 😩
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Logan loooves experimenting. He loves introducing you to new things, finding new ways to push you to the edge and improve your sex life. HOWEVER. Risks are not his thing. He wants you 1. To always feel comfortable and safe with him and 2. All to himself, so he does not like the idea of anyone accidentally seeing you two ect.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?). 
It is NEVER one round with Logan. He’ll fuck you on his fingers, fuck you with his cock, his mouth, his thigh, everything, over and over and over again. Like he never tires, and doesn’t think of it as a job well done until you’re a blubbering mess underneath him
T = Toys (do they use toys?)
Logan actually despises toys. He’s an oldie at heart and believes he should be the only thing getting you off. When he catches ur masterbating with a toy, vibrator dildo Does Not Matter, he goes feral. Fucks you till the only thing you can get off too is him.
“You gonna admit it, huh? You gonna admit nothing can make you feel like this but me? Or do i have to fuck you some more? Yeah, i think i need to fuck you some more, really get it into your head Bub.”
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Logan likes the idea of teasing in theory, would love to see you whining and begging to come from his cock, but in reality he just doesn’t have the patience for it. You’d think he learned patience from his 200 years alive but in reality whenever u guys get Into it he’s fucking you almost immediately because he just needs to be inside you.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Logan is always desperate to make you moan. He loves hearing all the dirty desperate noises escaping your mouth and gets mad when you try to muffle it, hence his perfect location being somewhere isolated so you can scream as loud as you want.
Logan himself is rather vocal too. Not loud per say, but he grunts and groans, and loves talking dirty to you.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so good on my cock,”
“You like being fucked like a slut, huh?”
“So wet for me baby.”
ect.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Loves when you mention him during sex. When you scream his name he’s already gone. Wearing his clothes? He’s blowing his load immediately. Saying shit like “i’m yours” “you’re the only one who came make me feel like this” Oh lord he just unravels
What can he say he’s a possessive guy 🤷‍♀️
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Logan is thick. He’s def larger than average, but he’s thick and wide, and the stretch of his cock inside you is fucking delicious every time.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Logan can literally get turned on at the smallest of things 😭
He’s just so fucking rabid for you, you could be cooking him dinner and he’ll have you on the counter with your legs spread and him between them, lapping at your pussy like a starving man
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Logan isn’t rlly one to fall asleep. He’ll stay up while you doze off and just admire you, brush your hair, kiss your bare shoulders, just content to have you there with him.
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vaspider · 1 year ago
Text
Last year I wrote about what happened at Pride when a couple of kids didn't understand why us older folx were so bitter about Reagan.
This year, I have something a little softer.
Someone who looked a little older than me came up to the booth wearing a pink t-shirt proclaiming him one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, San Francisco chapter. As I was ringing him up, I asked if he'd been involved for a while.
"Yes," he said, "for a bit," in that way us middle-aged people do when we're sort of wincing and feeling old.
"Okay, well," I said, sitting at my register in my queer booth full of queer clothes and patches and pins, topless in public for the first time. (I had pasties on for my own comfort bc I was working, but I live in the city of the Naked Bike Ride, and I took full advantage). My baby brother and both of my partners ran around behind me, my brother wearing a loose tank top that makes his scars visible.
"I need to tell you that you all helped keep me alive."
He blinked at me as I continued, "I was a kid in high school in the early 90s. I lived in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, and what you all were doing was so loud and so out there that even I heard about your work. It was one of the things that kept me alive. So thank you, and please thank the rest of the Sisters."
I heard about them through people in my parents' church complaining about them, and then I sought more information through the beginning of the internet, through newspapers, through anything I could find. I found the cover of Newsweek that one of the Sisters was on. I read about their "exorcism" of fundamentalist preachers whose books sat on the shelf in my parents' basement and probably still do. I saw how loud and colorful and unapologetically queer they were.
The knowledge that someone was out there, so full of defiant joy, refusing the shame that people kept trying to put on them? Oh, that kept me alive. I saw them, and I knew I could make it through. I wrapped my hands around that knowledge, and I held on so tight.
It took me a long time - a long, long time - to unwind most of it for myself and get to the point where my fat butch ass was sitting bare-chested in the July breeze, looking up at him as he held out his arms and said "you're actually giving me chills." I answered, "I mean every word. You helped keep me alive. So thank you."
I never know what to say when people come up to me in public and tell me that I helped them or changed their life in some way. I appreciate it, and I genuinely love the people who apologized for "fanpersoning" at me last weekend, I just never know what to say. I'm incredibly grateful that the Sister I spoke to was incredibly gracious, saying "usually we give blessings, but I feel like you blessed me." Another member of the party let me pet their tiny dog, who was not very interested in me, and that's okay. It was an overwhelming day. Then, they moved on.
Me? I'm still sitting with the fact that I looked last weekend into the faces of people who didn't know they were holding my head above water, and that I got to tell them the work they do matters. It's a rare thing to get to tell someone, "You saved me," and I'm treasuring it.
Last weekend, I wore my new battle vest with nothing underneath it, unless it was too hot, and then I just sat in my chair, chatting and ringing ppl out with my skin free to the air. I decided last year that top surgery isn't for me, but that also I'm going to love this body unapologetically, and it's no less a transmasculine body because the soft new dark hair on my belly isn't accompanied by pink scars along my ribs.
I didn't get here on my own. I got here because someone else cut through the undergrowth ahead of me so I could take another step forward. Here I am, decades later, still taking step after step, one at a time, and trying to lay paving stones behind me.
Last weekend was another step along that way, another step through unwinding the fear and shame and sadness that my parents and their church built into me. Another step out of hating myself for hiding parts of myself for so long, for acting out in other ways to distract people from my queerness, for feeling so much guilt when other people tell me I'm brave, because I know how much of myself I hid for how long because I was a coward, because I was afraid.
Another step into expiating stigmatic guilt.
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