bowiesimms

[bowiesimms]

I like the idea of rick sanchez being so angry, upset, and overall exasperated by his family/other external issues, that he portals over to your place just to slip your underwear off slightly just to fill you to the hilt.

grunting into the crook of your neck, mumbling about how bad he missed you, how easy it is to be with you, how good you make him feel about himself, how pretty you are bent over like this for him.

it's the only place he'll be completely unfiltered and honest, no loopholes, no mind games to avoid what he really wants to say to you.

he whines about how you don't visit him enough, how he misses your smell on his sheets, and the lipstick you leave on his mugs- even though he rolled his eyes every time he saw them stationed on top of his work desk.

he griiiinnddss into you. in a way- he's upset with you too, taking his anger out on your perfect body. you're always busy, too apathetic to his antics to bother giving him a worthy reaction.

but here.. when he's buried himself so deep into you, you can't help but react. moaning under his touch, the words 'more... yes... right there... faster... deeper...' bubble up from your throat and rick drinks them up.

responding with his own flattery: "you like that baby..?" "right here feels good, huh.." "you want more..?" "take it all. its all for you."

"its always only been for you."

[bowiesimms]

rick sanchez let me be one of your girls pls PLSSSSS

[bowiesimms]

do we want a part 2 to this?

once you're in, you're in.

Having your heart broke is awful but not being able to tell anyone anything made the pain so much worse. You were not supposed to know Nacho Varga and you were not supposed to know of the Salamanca’s nor the business going on. Simply, you were just somebody who worked at a coffee shop, just about scraping by and making ends meet and he was an important member of a cartel. 

But you knew him and all about his life. After closing shop late one night, you were walking home and unfortunately happened to be noticed by a group of men, following you and calling you names, trying to get your attention. Just then Nacho happened to be driving past, and he stopped. As soon as the guys saw Nacho standing there, they scampered, apologising to him - you’d noticed they were almost scared of him? Naturally, you were spooked and you were shaking from the whole ordeal, he noticed that. His eyes were kind, and they were soft as he looked at you, noticing your stature. 

He walked you home, knowing you would definitely not get in his car after that. He didn't have to but he did. You didn’t get his name, and he barely said anything apart from asking if you were okay and that was it. A few days passed and in the dead of night there was a knock against your apartment door. The knock was a pretty-beaten nacho. You cleaned him up, feeling like you owed him a little, unsure as to why he came to you but you cleaned him up, this time he spoke a bit more. From then on, he formed a routine, showing up to your apartment a few times a week in the dead of night, not beaten up or anything, you guys would talk and sit on your couch, watching tv, drinking beers. Becoming his escape from the criminal life he desperately wanted to quit. 

A year and half later, here you were. Broken hearted as the night before he had come over, telling you that he can’t see you anymore and that it was so much safer for you to not know him. Of course you understood that, but you loved him. Hell, he loved you, telling you for the first and last time almost 2 weeks ago. He had cupped your face gently as you cried, your heart had sunk, your stomach in a gut-wrenching turmoil, you’d told him ‘no no please don’t’ over and over again. He’d told you he loved you, his thumbs stroking away your tears and you noticed his eyes welling up too. You’d never seen him emotional. 

Almost 2 weeks had passed, you hadn’t seen him. He was doing exactly what he said but you were just in a constant state of hope. The people in your life had all noticed the decline you’d taken. The dissociative stares, eye bags and barely eating. Everything you did just hurt your heart. You couldn’t even tell anyone. 

It was 9pm, closing time, and this one customer had not left yet. He’d been sat at a table with a black coffee for the past half hour. Closing alone was normal, and you waved goodbye to your other colleague, before walking over to the customer. A bit of an older guy, in his 40’s you would say, handsome too, sat at the table. 

“Hey, im really sorry but we’re closed now so-”

“Y/n right?” He had a slight accent as he spoke, a recognisable one. Taking you off guard a bit, sure you had your name tag on but he had not looked at it once. He’s had a slightly off-putting smile on his face as he looked up at you. 

“Yeah-” He directed his hand to the chair opposite him at the table, to which you cautiously sat down. You weren’t stupid, you knew a cartel member when you saw one. 

He smiled at you still, leaning forward on the table, his arms on the table too, “Good. I’m Eduardo Salamanca, but you can just call me Lalo, you know Nachito, si?” 

The smile you put on when talking to customers, which you had put on for him, faltered a little upon hearing Salamanca. Oh for fuck sake. This is just what you wanted to deal with when trying to close up, running on almost 2 hours of sleep. He was quick, he’d instantly caught onto your reaction.

“I mean, yeah, i-i knew him” You replied, holding your hands under the table, letting out the breath you were holding a little louder then you wanted, Lalo caught onto this, nothing slipped past him and he let out a laugh. 

“No need to be so nerviosa, ma carino, hm? I just want to talk…” Resting his hands under his chin, he had a gleam in his eyes, leaning forward a little, watching at you, “I just…want to know what our Nachito has been telling you this past year, hm? Si?”

Oh god. 

Looking at your hands monetarily to break the intense eye contact, you looked back up at him, “he really didn't tell me any-”

“Don’t lie. You too pretty to lie” He said, “Now, c’mon you will tell me now”

So you did, explaining the absolute basics of what you knew, of what Nacho had told you - the Salamanca’s, what they did, who runs what, and how he told you that if ever a guy called Tuto somehow showed up to instantly run.  To which Lalo let out a laugh and you laughed nervously in response too. Upon finishing what you told him, he paused for a minute too long.

“You’re good at keeping secrets, hm, I like that. I think, I’ll keep you, si?” he said, you look at him confused by his word choices, unsure what he meant by keeping you, “Too good for a mierda place like this”

Still completely unsure and now scared of what he meant by that, you watched him, your gaze now never leaving him as he stood up out of his chair, walking over to you. He grabbed your hand gently, and brought your knuckles to his lips, kissing it softly. He looked at you again for a few seconds too long, a smirk now at the corner of his lips, “gracias, my dear y/n, you have been very helpful, I’ll see you soon” 

He gently let go of your hand, turning on his heeled boots, and walking out the door, leaving you alone to process what had just happened. You’d stay sat in the chair, hand to your mouth, almost biting on your thumb, unsure what to do. Upon hearing his car drive off, you quickly stood up, locking the cafe door. Heart pounding and breathing suddenly heavy. What did you just do?

[bowiesimms]

the honda odyssey scene but you’re a spideyperson:

(i know everyone has basically done their own take on this scene but this was sm fun to write. also wade is hard to write in character i apologise...fem reader based! very self indulgent. nsfwish at the end. also red colour for wades speech and its yellow for logans lol)

you’re sat in the back of the car, wade and logan up front, not paying attention to anything they’re saying - kinda over the will they/wont they tension they got going on.

playing with your hair or just staring out the window and suddenly the car comes to a complete halt. they both look at each other before looking at you in the back. 

 “what…..?” “spidey, sugarbear, why don't you go for a little walk, hm?” “what’s going on-” “just get out of the car, bub” “oh- okay…” serious side eye from you

not even two seconds after shutting the car door, logan pounces on wade and the car gets to rocking and not in the way you’d want it. but you just let them be for a good while.

its been almost an hour at this point of just straight fighting and you can see blood everywhere and each window is smashed, and you’re just hanging upside down from a tree branch, feeling bored. you’ve had enough.

swinging to the top of the honda, there's a huge hole on the roof from wade being thrown through it. all the seats are flattened, seatbelts have long gone and it's just blood everywhere. the two of them just basically killing each other and other in the back seat (or where it used to be).

andddd your moment comes when wade manages to throw logan through the back of the car, watching as he gets back on his feet and begins charging towards the car. being the hero you are, you swoop in and just before logan gets into the car, you’ve flipped yourself off of it and webbed him to the back of it and it takes a good few webshots to get his hands/claws webbed tight to the back of the car. “what the fuck-what the fuck are you doing?”

“sorry logan” and you are sorry but this is the only way this blood bath will end. swinging back to the top of the car, you look through the giant hole in the roof, “spideypookie! you came to my rescue, i mean i had it covered but hey! Its so lovely to see you” landing in the car, literally on his lap, you web both his hands down to the seat in an instant. “oh god, i’ve dreamed about this so so many times, you dont understand im so wet right no-” “i will web your mouth shut if you dont stop” “oh and you say that too! And then it leads to us fighting around for a bit, getting hot and bothered-”

feeling your senses tingle in the back of your neck you realise logans somehow broken free, throwing yourself in the front of the car logan crashes in through one of the backdoor windows. he doesn’t want to fight you. “get out of the car” his chest is heavily breathily as he stares you down, sweat beading on his forehead, “get out the car, y/n”

and your senses tingle again as you realise wade still has his legs free, and within seconds you’ve webbed his feet down but logan’s already gone in for the kill on him, webbing logan’s hands, again, to the seats. and in the small cramped-ness of the car, you fling yourself at him, now on his lap. “fuck!” “fuck!” they say  in unison.

you’ve got them both webbed to the back seat. all of wades limbs webbed to the seat, legs spread wide a little. whilst you’re currently straddling logan who’s left arm is webbed to the seat as well. everyone in the car is breathing heavy.

they’re both staring at you, covered in their wounds. wade’s suit is ripped in a lot of places and his baby knife is lodged into logans arm, currently webbed. 

a silence falls in the car, everyone's catching their breaths and also no one knows really what to say. well wade does, “this is really hot” both you and logan turn your heads slowly, it's almost comical, and look at him, “seriously, look im so hard right now”

reluctantly you look down. boom. yep. yeah he is, he’s not lying.

“gods sake, seriously?!” “you’re so fucking disgusting” both you and logan are grimacing looking away. “my fanfiction is quite literally coming true in this very moment, i can’t help it. i mean spider-girl? woman? did we ever decide on a name-”

“shut up!” somewhere in the back of logans mind, somewhere deep inside of him is enjoying this. perhaps its the lack of physical contact - that wasn’t punching or stabbing - and the fact you are sat on him and have been for a few minutes now. 

logans hand has broken free from your web - again - but he doesn’t actually go to throw himself at wade. as, to be fair, wade cannot actually move. he’s just wiggling around trying to get out the webs (or wiggling for other reasons...hm).

you’ve taken off your mask now, feeling a bit overstimulated and warm. oh yeah! you should probably get off of logans lap now. HOWEVER, logan has other ideas. his hand goes to your lower back stopping you from moving, and you look up, meeting his eyes. oh! ohhhh.

his hand goes to the lower of your cheek, his fingers in your hair. and wade has been silent for too long now its weird, he’s just watching you guys. sliding yourself more onto logans lap - he’s smug now. he’s got want wade wants. 

“you two are so incredibly cruel but lucky for you guys i'm into this cuck business, but i would like somebody to touch me. please - wolvie? spideybabe? oh you guys are really going at it. you guys are KILLING me this isn’t fair-”

riding wolverine in the back of a horrifically beaten up honda odyssey whilst deadpool watches, hands webbed up was not what you were imagining was going to happen when you got invited to this universe saving shit. but hey ho.

[bowiesimms]

once you're in, you're in.

Having your heart broke is awful but not being able to tell anyone anything made the pain so much worse. You were not supposed to know Nacho Varga and you were not supposed to know of the Salamanca’s nor the business going on. Simply, you were just somebody who worked at a coffee shop, just about scraping by and making ends meet and he was an important member of a cartel. 

But you knew him and all about his life. After closing shop late one night, you were walking home and unfortunately happened to be noticed by a group of men, following you and calling you names, trying to get your attention. Just then Nacho happened to be driving past, and he stopped. As soon as the guys saw Nacho standing there, they scampered, apologising to him - you’d noticed they were almost scared of him? Naturally, you were spooked and you were shaking from the whole ordeal, he noticed that. His eyes were kind, and they were soft as he looked at you, noticing your stature. 

He walked you home, knowing you would definitely not get in his car after that. He didn't have to but he did. You didn’t get his name, and he barely said anything apart from asking if you were okay and that was it. A few days passed and in the dead of night there was a knock against your apartment door. The knock was a pretty-beaten nacho. You cleaned him up, feeling like you owed him a little, unsure as to why he came to you but you cleaned him up, this time he spoke a bit more. From then on, he formed a routine, showing up to your apartment a few times a week in the dead of night, not beaten up or anything, you guys would talk and sit on your couch, watching tv, drinking beers. Becoming his escape from the criminal life he desperately wanted to quit. 

A year and half later, here you were. Broken hearted as the night before he had come over, telling you that he can’t see you anymore and that it was so much safer for you to not know him. Of course you understood that, but you loved him. Hell, he loved you, telling you for the first and last time almost 2 weeks ago. He had cupped your face gently as you cried, your heart had sunk, your stomach in a gut-wrenching turmoil, you’d told him ‘no no please don’t’ over and over again. He’d told you he loved you, his thumbs stroking away your tears and you noticed his eyes welling up too. You’d never seen him emotional. 

Almost 2 weeks had passed, you hadn’t seen him. He was doing exactly what he said but you were just in a constant state of hope. The people in your life had all noticed the decline you’d taken. The dissociative stares, eye bags and barely eating. Everything you did just hurt your heart. You couldn’t even tell anyone. 

It was 9pm, closing time, and this one customer had not left yet. He’d been sat at a table with a black coffee for the past half hour. Closing alone was normal, and you waved goodbye to your other colleague, before walking over to the customer. A bit of an older guy, in his 40’s you would say, handsome too, sat at the table. 

“Hey, im really sorry but we’re closed now so-”

“Y/n right?” He had a slight accent as he spoke, a recognisable one. Taking you off guard a bit, sure you had your name tag on but he had not looked at it once. He’s had a slightly off-putting smile on his face as he looked up at you. 

“Yeah-” He directed his hand to the chair opposite him at the table, to which you cautiously sat down. You weren’t stupid, you knew a cartel member when you saw one. 

He smiled at you still, leaning forward on the table, his arms on the table too, “Good. I’m Eduardo Salamanca, but you can just call me Lalo, you know Nachito, si?” 

The smile you put on when talking to customers, which you had put on for him, faltered a little upon hearing Salamanca. Oh for fuck sake. This is just what you wanted to deal with when trying to close up, running on almost 2 hours of sleep. He was quick, he’d instantly caught onto your reaction.

“I mean, yeah, i-i knew him” You replied, holding your hands under the table, letting out the breath you were holding a little louder then you wanted, Lalo caught onto this, nothing slipped past him and he let out a laugh. 

“No need to be so nerviosa, ma carino, hm? I just want to talk…” Resting his hands under his chin, he had a gleam in his eyes, leaning forward a little, watching at you, “I just…want to know what our Nachito has been telling you this past year, hm? Si?”

Oh god. 

Looking at your hands monetarily to break the intense eye contact, you looked back up at him, “he really didn't tell me any-”

“Don’t lie. You too pretty to lie” He said, “Now, c’mon you will tell me now”

So you did, explaining the absolute basics of what you knew, of what Nacho had told you - the Salamanca’s, what they did, who runs what, and how he told you that if ever a guy called Tuto somehow showed up to instantly run.  To which Lalo let out a laugh and you laughed nervously in response too. Upon finishing what you told him, he paused for a minute too long.

“You’re good at keeping secrets, hm, I like that. I think, I’ll keep you, si?” he said, you look at him confused by his word choices, unsure what he meant by keeping you, “Too good for a mierda place like this”

Still completely unsure and now scared of what he meant by that, you watched him, your gaze now never leaving him as he stood up out of his chair, walking over to you. He grabbed your hand gently, and brought your knuckles to his lips, kissing it softly. He looked at you again for a few seconds too long, a smirk now at the corner of his lips, “gracias, my dear y/n, you have been very helpful, I’ll see you soon” 

He gently let go of your hand, turning on his heeled boots, and walking out the door, leaving you alone to process what had just happened. You’d stay sat in the chair, hand to your mouth, almost biting on your thumb, unsure what to do. Upon hearing his car drive off, you quickly stood up, locking the cafe door. Heart pounding and breathing suddenly heavy. What did you just do?

[bowiesimms]

marcus white the type of person to read that one reddit post about that dude using the song CBAT when he fucks and then deciding to try it out