#*angry squinting at the website*

[pedgito]

MILLER'S GIRL ✎ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Four: Under Your Skin

Chapter Summary: An implosion that changes everything, leaving results devastating but unseen. [5k]

[student/teacher relationship, age gap, no outbreak, power dynamic]

Chapter Warnings: fem!reader, professor!joel miller, inappropriate behavior, reader is delusional lol, background tess/joel (mentions of infidelity), technical infidelity on joel's behalf, unprotected piv, f!oral, angry sex, lack of aftercare, belt as restraints, inappropriate use of a tie & desk, semi-public sex (sorta), angst at the end i'm sorry.

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There’s a deep ache in your body and between your legs as you toss in bed that morning, rousing from a less than relaxing sleep, the faint smell of Joel still lingering on the clothes you fell asleep in, not bothering to change. Licking at chapped lips he’d kissed you so feverishly the night before, you recollect the night in flashes, rubbing sleep from your eyes and feeling riddled with anxiety. 

You reach for your phone blindly, stuffed under your covers as you scroll through your phone, expecting some type of change—an updated grade, a note or two on your follow-up essay. But, there’s nothing. The big, glaring fucking zero staring you back in the face. And for a moment, you feel guilty. You wonder just how badly you screwed things up by doubling down and approaching him so boldly in his office. In his space.

You threatened him and he attacked. Not you.

You never intended for things to unfold the way they did, but you wanted to get your feelings across clearly, even if that meant getting under his skin. 

Joel. Not Mr. Miller. 

Those were two entirely different entities now.

You take your morning slow, enjoying the relaxation of the weekend and taking your time—researching and looking into things you definitely should not be. First, it’s his name. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t bring up much. His job history was fairly public, no local or national awards, nothing note-worthy and only a few small non-fiction pieces to his name, though you knew there were more—there had to be. With his taste in poetry and fiction you expected something, but came up with nothing. He’s so inexplicably boring to the naked eye and maybe that’s what he wanted. He wanted to blend and disappear.

Curiously, you do more digging on his wife. Who—yeah, it was definitely his wife. A few links later and you stumble upon the marriage certificate, nearly ten years strong. No kids, either.

It was impressive, more than what a lot of people could be prideful about. But Joel, he wasn’t prideful about Tess. He was secretive, dismissive, and shot a look of disgust at his phone every time he received a text, whether purposefully or not.

You find that she works at a law firm, relatively small and headed by two partners. One significantly older than the other—father and son? You squint slightly, searching through the website carefully but not coming up with much. She was a lawyer, that much was obvious.

Still, it didn’t explain the rift. 

What happened?

You try and struggle to find anything rational or tangible, feeling like you might drive yourself insane trying to find out and you spend most of the weekend trudging through the obscurity of things you could find online, very little compared to what you could find out by just asking him.

There’s a tinge of dread in attending class that Monday knowing that no matter how hard you tried, Mr. Miller would never see you the same. He wouldn’t treat you as he had, pedestaling you up above the rest and, though he’d never admit openly, admiring you.

But, god, it ails you. Sickens your mind and keeps you from focusing on anything else.

You needed more answers, more clarification. But, more importantly, you still needed him.

That deep, gnawing feeling of desire in your gut had only grown stronger since your encounter in his office and you feared—knew, it would only worsen as time went on.

-

Joel knew that night that he needed to follow through on his plans.

His lack of trust in Tess, his instability in his life now, and how he couldn’t get you out of his head. The three were a volatile mix and he knew if he didn’t start somewhere that things would quickly grow out of control.

He makes the call to his lawyer the following morning, hungover and tired. Nursing a headache in his open palm as he conversed quietly over the phone. Tess was home, far off and distant in another room but he can hear her shifting around, moving about, and he feels like he’s betraying her. He doesn’t know why he’s filled with guilt and shame—maybe that was partly because of you, his willingness to cross that line for just a moment and kiss you.

It was a momentary slip, his want clouding out his sense of rationality.

You were conniving and manipulative, using his own selfish thoughts against him, his eagerness to aid you in your progress but also allowed a level of vulnerability between you both. Joel should’ve known, he should’ve seen it in the way you looked at him. 

It was admiration and obsession and he fed into it. 

It was something he never had, not even with Tess.

He loved her, sure. Cared about her, absolutely. But the physical connection—sexual or not, had never truly been there. And Joel figures that was why she did what she did, despite how badly it hurt him. He felt at fault for a while, like he had caused it. 

Maybe he did—but he would never have betrayed Tess like she did so easily, even if she swore it meant nothing at the time. Late nights for her were fickle, but they still happened. And that’s when Joel allowed the doubt to seep in and eat away.

But, he just couldn’t do it anymore. He felt like an intruder in his own home.

Tess would be served the papers on Monday evening and Joel would face the wrath when he arrived home, but there was still time. Time to prepare and settle, commit through his day and do his job, even if you lingered in his peripheral as class went on.

Your lack of reaction and response to his unchangingness of your grade gives him a false sign of relief—had you finally moved on from the idea? Joel was clueless to how preoccupied you actually were, chewing on the end of a pen as you sifted through tabs as he droned on at the front of class. Discussion days were always long and dreadful, and as most of the class was discussing the troubled assignment Mr. Miller had given you the week prior, your silence was…required. He avoided you like the plague and you were thankful, to some degree.

Still filled with frustration and simmering rage, you can’t ignore how despite everything—Joel still glances your way. And where his looks before were restrained, subtle and less driven…these were not. Like he was replaying the events in his head every time he looked at you, wondering if he’d tossed your panties out or kept them, if he still tasted you on his lips—at this point, fucking you was the least he could do.

And you know it’s in poor taste, but you approach him at the end of class with a revered look on things—hopeful, even. Apologize, fix your grade, and move on like things never happened.

He straightens a stack of files on his desk as you approach, jaw tense as he swallows and his gaze follows the last few lingering students as you neared on him, like prey. But, your face softens when he looks at you and whatever retort he has on standby dissipates for the moment.

“Um,” You start, unsure of how he would react, “I—can we talk?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” Joel offers logically, “not…now.”

End of day, he thinks. In his office. Privacy. Secrecy. He didn’t feel like airing things out in the middle of the day, not with his divorce on the forefront of his mind.

“I just…I wanted to apologize.” You tell him quietly, “For everything.”

Was it genuine? Not really.

“I can’t change your grade,” He admits, “I’m not going to and it’s beyond the deadline for that assignment.”

You breath sharply through your nostrils and intertwine your fingers in front of you—Joel can see from the way your grip tightens that you’re holding back and nothing has changed.

Unstable and volatile, you both stared at each other for too long, an eerie silence settling.

“That’s—”

He interrupts without much care, “Unfair? Unethical? Don’t start with this. Not now.”

He doesn’t have any leverage here either, but you quiet down under his gaze slightly.

You begin to speak again, but he holds up a careful finger. Like scolding a child for their actions and you bite back a venomous retort as he talks over you, “Meet me in my office at six. Fifteen minutes. That’s all you get.”

He’s on edge, jaw flexing around a tense swallow that feels impossible to get down. He turns back to his desk, ignoring you and ultimately ending whatever conversation you were hoping to have.

He wants you to wait and despite your stubbornness to address the situation now, you settle with his words and nod, a quiet “Okay.” in response.

“Don’t be late.” He stresses, eyes flicking up towards you briefly.

Your insides twist ominously in anticipation, but you feel yourself throbbing with need.

“Yes,” You respond, “Of course, Mr. Miller.”

There’s an urge for praise that Joel bites back.

-

Joel is already opening the door as your footsteps approach later that day, anticipating your arrival and eyes glancing over your figure in the darkened lights of the classroom, the warm glow of his office blanketing you both as he welcomes you in with a gesture, moving out of your way slightly and closing the door to his office as you trailed toward his desk, lingering quietly.

“You can sit.” He directs, thumbs digging into the waistband of his slacks as he adjusts them slightly, the uncomfortable press of his belt pressing into his stomach. Normally he’d undress a little, relax, but he couldn’t allow that. Not with how anxious he felt, knowing what he faced at home, sure that the divorce papers had already been delivered to Tess.

He’s tried to ignore it—and he doesn’t know why he’s worried, but her refusal to cooperate is always an option and that isn’t something Joel thinks he can handle calmly.

“Okay,” You listen, taking a seat in one of the two leather chairs placed in front of his desk, watching as he leaned against the edge of his desk a few inches away, hands clasped in his lap as he looked down, unsure of how to begin, or where, “Um, I can—”

“You need to understand something,” Joel begins suddenly, interrupting you again—it really, really fucking bothered you. He did it on purpose, as a way to assert himself over you, and you felt it in the way he looked at you, down and scrutinizing, “this—whatever this is, or was—it’s inappropriate.”

As if he had a proper moral compass to explain his actions.

“I don’t need a lesson in appropriate behavior,” You counter, “if that’s what you’re leading into.”

“No—”

It’s your turn to interrupt, sitting up straighter in your chair.

“And truthfully, it’s a little unprofessional of you to continue to fail me after I did the make-up assignment.” You respond, a tinge of condescension in your tone, “and you kissed me, if I remember correctly. So—if this is because you’re upset, then I’m allowed to be too. I want a fair grade. Not what you’re punishing me with now because you—for whatever fucking reason, can’t get passed the idea that you had those thoughts too, but can’t accept it.”

“I’m not punishing you.” Joel responds lamely and you squint your eyes slightly as you look at him before huffing out a breath of defeat, chuckling softly under your breath.

“You know—we talked for weeks. Back and forth. And you reached out to me first. So, if you want to deny that then let’s talk about you abusing your power and holding it over my head now after all of that. Genuine talks. You had to care, to some degree.”

“You’re not the first student I’ve talked to outside of class—”

You roll your eyes, feeling the conversation stalling out quickly.

“Do you still have them?” You ask curiously.

Joel doesn’t need to be told. He knows what you’re referring to.

And the guilt on his face as he looks away briefly, tongue pressing into his cheek as he glances at his watch, avoiding your question.

“Am I out of time already?” You ask patronizingly, leaning over in the chair slightly as you struggle to meet his gaze, his eyes pointed elsewhere. “Tight schedule today?”

“What are you expecting out of this?” Joel asks, arms crossing over his chest, biceps stretching under the dark button-up, licking at his bottom lip anxiously. “Are you that fucking stubborn that you think this is somehow going to work in your favor?”

Your face twitches in frustration and you cock your head slightly, rising from the chair and into his space, close enough that you can smell the faint waft of his cologne, looking him over slowly as his eyes fall on you.

“Where are they?” You ask curiously, squeezing yourself between the small space, thighs rubbing against his own as you walk around him, trailing by his desk. “Here?” You point toward the stack of closed drawers nestled in the wood and Joel glances over his shoulder, quick to move as he pushes you away gently, palm flat against your chest.

“The fuck are you doing?” He asks, “You came here to talk. So talk.”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and test your limits once more, “Oh, so they are in there? Kept them for yourself? You know, this whole moral high ground thing is really fucking annoying, Joel.”

He speaks your name as a warning, but it only makes you feel more at ease.

“What?” You ask innocently, “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Joel chews at his bottom lip and removes his hand from the center of your chest, feeling it sting like a hot brand as his fingers curl around the edge of his desk, feeling oddly small as your eyes track him and watch like he’s some type of prey, a devilish smile pulling at your lips.

He made a mistake underestimating you—or even allowing you back into his office. He was screwed.

“Stop.” He warns, watching as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and reach behind him quickly, yanking at the drawer but he draws your hand up, tight in his grip and forcing you against his chest, your unrestrained hand falling against the desk to catch yourself.

“What’s going on?” You ask softly, feigning genuine emotion. The crease between his brow growing deeper—you’ve spent enough time with him to know when something is bothering him, someone, and it’s written all over his face. “Come on, I won’t say anything.”

“It’s not your business.” Joel offers lamely, feeling you create a small amount of distance as you push away, your wrist still held firmly in his grip, but lower by his waist.

“Is it her?” You ask carefully, “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Another breath of your name—stop here, stop now.

“Did you tell her?” You ask suddenly, eyes widening. “God, are you really that much of a —”

“No, fuck—” He interrupts, “I’m—not that it’s any of your goddamn business, I served her divorce papers today.”

“Oh…” It wasn’t what you expected, not by a longshot. “Was that—is that because of—”

“No,” His eyebrows quirk up slightly, amused that you thought you were the cause of his marriage's untimely dismantlement, “not at all, actually.”

He doesn’t know why it feels like a weight lifting on his chest, but talking about it with you feels…less imposing than he expected. And your eyes soften slightly at the mention, still beckoning something dark but he can see the genuine reaction that flashes momentarily.

He loosens his grip but doesn’t quite let go, thumb rubbing over the vein of your wrist. 

Joel doesn’t understand why he can’t just let go, like he’s weirdly tethered to you.

“Do you…want to talk about it?” You ask, feeling the need to reassure some comfort.

You didn’t really care, but he seemed so pathetically sad. It spilled over and flooded into you, that small tug at your heart. It quickly fades, his mouth opening to speak.

“Not really.” He doesn’t feel the need to bother, glancing at his watch briefly again.

The minutes were ticking down and he knew you were overstaying your welcome—and he was allowing it. But, you here—it feels good. 

“I can’t change your grade,” He reiterates again, “but if you promise to not do something like that again—I can offer some extra credit, something to help make up for it.”

And ultimately teach you a lesson and punish you in the process. Did you really have a choice?

“Extra credit,” You stress, saying slowly as you consider the word, the implication—you don’t think he means it in a nefarious way, it just feels ridiculous, “seriously?”

Joel nods, “Consider it a…lesson learned.”

A small laugh bubbles from your chest but you ignore it, staring down at his touch and speaking.

“You know—I did appreciate the recommendations you made,” You admit, “if that counts for anything.

Joel stares at you, despite your preoccupied gaze, speaking directly.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I care about that,” Joel says, “I give recommendations to students all the time. But, you seemed more interested so–I gave you more.”

“Right,” You say with finality, “and all those nights at the coffee shop?”

“I’m there quite a bit anyways,” He admits, only a half-truth, “you’re not the first student I’ve had meetings with outside of class.”

He’s trying to reiterate to himself that his actions are justified, but his body is saying otherwise.

“Mr. Miller,” You start softly, “can I ask you one more question?”

Silent, he nods again.

“Why are you still touching me?”

And he doesn’t know why, but something in him snaps. The quickening of your pulse under his fingertips, your eyes finally flicking up to him. He does have your panties tucked away in his desk, he doesn’t meet with students outside of his class like that, and he can try and convince himself all he wants, but him reaching out to you was a personal, selfish decision that had nothing to do with anything but his own curiosity. He sees the subtle catch of your breath and doesn’t stop you when he sees you moving closer, quick and determined.

Fuck his time limit, you think.

 If he wanted you to leave he would’ve forced you out by now.

Your lips are soft but forceful, pressing against his with fervor as you slip your wrist from his grip and bury your fingers into his shortened curls, trimmed down at the base of his neck but there’s still just enough to tug, swallowing down his soft grunt as you pull and bite as at his bottom lip.

Joel has the thought to stop you, but he can’t. 

He feels guilty, appreciating the touch that he’s lacked for so long. But, there’s a creeping sensation of frustration that fills him, vexed with you. And it snaps, completely.

His hands finally touch you, releasing a breath into his mouth you didn’t realize you were holding. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other wrapped firmly around your neck. Just a solid weight that he uses as leverage when you get too eager, nipping at his lip. 

Joel moves you easily, silently as he turns and presses you against his desk, mumbling a soft “Up.” as he aids in the lift of your thighs, taking a seat on his desk as it shakes with the movement and he slots himself between your open legs and kisses you fuller, selfishly.

He’s eager to slip his tongue into your mouth once more, like beforem and you welcome it with ease. Giggling into his open mouth as he squeezes at your throat, the sound breaking his focus.

“So, is this the extra credit?” You speak against his lips, a soft puff of his breath over your face as he keeps his eyes closed, face pressed against yours. “Because I think my fifteen minutes is up.”

Joel can’t do conversation right now, the noise grating in his ears as he blindly reaches for his tie and loosens it, yanking it away from his neck and balling up the material, his eyebrows shooting up slightly in response as he catches your gaze, momentarily confused until you quickly catch on.

Oh, he wants you to shut up. Noted.

He’s guiding the fabric to your mouth before you can properly speak and that’s what he wants, stuffing it between your teeth and forcing you to bite down, his eyes darkened as he squeezes your cheeks between his fingers, shifting a hand under the hem of your dress where it tickles your thighs and you legs widen instinctively, even more. There’s an obvious absence of fabric that Joel notes as his fingers dig into your hips, your eyes brightening at his realization.

And that’s how Joel knows—you never came here to talk. You always had some underlying intention or reason and it drove him insane, but he was a raging hypocrite, wanting it just as selfishly. His fingers drag over your pussy with intention, gliding through your slick and pressing a single digit inside of you with little resistance and you gasp, muffled by the fabric.

“You didn’t come here to talk,” Joel surmises, though it was obvious from the start, “did you?”

You shake your head weakly, eyes squeezing shut as he pumps his fingers and quickly adds another, hand flying to his wrist as he quirks his fingers inside of you and hits a spot that has your stomach coiling in anticipation.  

“What do you want?” He asks hotly, hand squeezing at the base of your neck while he uses his other hand to rub messy, slow circles over your clit. Your hands reach for his belt without question, palm flattening over his cock that was held tightly behind the stiff material of his slacks. “Yeah?” He questions, the subtle squeeze of your hand against his shaft in response.

And part of you really doesn’t think he has it in him to go through with it, but then he’s pulling his hand away from you to manipulate and manhandle, yanking you off the desk sloppily and pressing your front against the edge, fumbling with his belt behind you and pulling it off in a sharp snap, hand flattening against your back as he presses you down.

“Give me your hands.” He tells you, a soft whine of protest coming from your mouth, but then he’s pulling himself from his briefs, cock in hand as he tugs at himself slowly and glides along the center of your pussy, dragging through the wetness. “You want me to fuck you, right? Give me your hands.”

You had control on just about every aspect of his mind—he needed this, the physicality stripped from you.

You oblige silently, face resting against the cold wood as you offered up your hands and allowed him to constrain them tight and snug—he does it with ease. Practice and perfected and he uses it as leverage to pull you back toward him, “So, we have a caveat here. No condom.”

You nod deftly, eyes closing as he tightens his grip and ultimately squeezes the belt even tighter.

“But, something tells me you don’t care—” A shake of your head in response, “—don’t tell me you’re that fucking naive.”

You shrug lamely, wiggling your ass in an effort to move closer, eyebrow furrowing as he moves his hips away slightly. You growl in frustration and spit out the tie, “Fuck you, I’m on birth control. Do you really think I’m that irresponsible?”

His lack of answer is enough of one and he stuffs the fabric back into your mouth with a grimace, “Given your behavior, yes.” He fists himself tightly and slips inside of you with ease, a snug fit but you mold around him perfectly.

And it shouldn’t feel right, but it does. Joel breathes a soft breath of relief as he uses his free hand to fist into the fabric of your dress and use it as a perfect leverage to fuck into you with fervor, disregarding of your own pleasure for the time being—though the angle and the intensity of your thrust doesn’t have you far off, snapping his hips with a furiosity that strikes something inside of you with each harsh movement.

He’s huffing behind clenched teeth, a low growl emitting from his chest as he feels you tighten around him instinctively, sobbing brokenly around the fabric in your mouth, eventually allowing it to slip as you feel his grip shift, pulling you upright by your dress and pressing you back against his chest.

“Why the—sudden change of heart?” You tease, an underlying suspicion in your mind that you don’t speak aloud. He wanted a distraction and you were proving to be a great one. His hips slow suddenly, almost like he’s contemplating a response.

He huffs out a bitter laugh, snapping his hips sharply and forcing a gasp from your chest.

“Do you ever shut up?” He asks, “If I knew you’d be this annoying I would’ve just shoved my dick in your mouth—maybe that would do you some good. You’d like that, huh?”

You giggle softly but it falls off into a broken moan as Joel buries his face into your neck, biting roughly at your skin as he feels himself reaching his peak, knowing it’s been far too long for him—years of lacking sex that quickly divulged into nothing. “I think you would like that, Joel.”

You’re waiting for a chastise that never comes, knowing he hates when his name falls from your tongue—he makes a muffled sound as he loosens the belt with fluid, practiced fingers and discards it to the floor, relieving the growing ache in your shoulders as he crosses an arm over your chest, palm flat against it to hold you in place as he snaps his hips once, twice, before his other hand is digging into the flesh of your own hip as he comes, deep inside of you and with a muffled grunt, teeth leaving a faint impression in your skin—and you’re only slightly disappointed in his lack of attention in making you come, but then he’s pulling out and spinning you around, hands coming up under your thighs to spread you out over his desk, silently pressing for you to lean back, dropping to his knees with his pants pooling low on his thighs. Too impatient to redress fully.

You gasp when he dips a finger inside of you, catching the slow spend that slips out, stuffing it back in as he presses his tongue over your clit and groaning at how you clench tightly around his fingers, spasming at the pressure.

“Quiet,” He warns, “put the fucking tie back in your mouth if you can’t control yourself.”

You can admit defeat, pathetically stuffing the fabric back in your mouth—haphazardly as half of it drapes over your chest, eyes locking on Joel’s as he laps at your clit, fingers stuffed inside of you to keep his cum from dripping out. And it’s so overwhelming that when you do finally come, you feel your vision blacking out, biting down roughly on the silk tie as you claw at the hand he has braced against your stomach, desperately trying to keep your writhing body still.

The aftermath is quiet, jaded—shifting on his desk silently you watch as he redresses, tucking his shirt back into his pants as he slips his belt through the loops, the fingers that were just buried inside of you working so easily against the leather. 

“Satisfied?” He asks suddenly, into the silence as you both lock eyes.

He slips the tie from your fingers, placing it back around his neck and tying it diligently. 

“Are you going to try and convince me you did that for my benefit?” You retort in annoyance, despite how satisfied you actually may be, this wasn’t just on you, “How about you apologize for using me as an outlet for your troubled marriage?”

“You’re not an outlet–”

And as if you spoke it into existence, the knock comes a few moments later. The door opening.

This is the part where Joel’s life finally implodes.

You on his desk, compromising as he still stands halfway between your legs in the middle of shifting his tie and Tess is…stoic. Silent.

“This is what’s been keeping you so preoccupied?” Tess asks, the dooming stack of papers gripped tightly in her hand. “Fucking a student?” Her eyes flicking to you briefly but quickly back to Joel and he nods toward the door, beckoning for you to leave. 

You do, without question. 

 And the aftermath is abysmal.

[marlboroenjoyer]

let me show you my thanks

so here is part two to 'cat got your tongue' i love miguel and i dunno maybe this was ooc but its my first smut fic with him be gentle. also i tried desperately to get like actually grammatically correct and normal sounding spanish from a bunch of different websites; so i really apologize in advance if it sounds disjointed or weird. im a patehtic monolingual individual :(.

summary [2.9k words] - you took an unannounced break from the spider-society after the fiasco that was your last meeting with miguel. he wants to show you just how thankful he is for you.

warnings - 18+ (if you're a minor and i see you interacting with my stuff you're getting blocked). SHARP TEETH BABY RAAAAHHHHHHHHH, inappropriate use of venom, slight degredation if you squint.. nsfw under the cut!

you were on autopilot for the next few days after your conversation? argument? with miguel. you were home in your own universe; you had shucked the gizmo off your wrist the second your feet landed in your small apartment. you didn’t even want to think about miguel let alone get contacted by the man so you shed your brain of anything involving hq. the days consisted of bouncing between your mattress and your desktop, occasionally fighting whatever enemy decided to break your peace. it was nice to fall back into your once usual routine before your discovery of the spider-society. and it was even nicer to finally have a little peace of mind. not thinking about miguel had made everything a little easier.

you weren't worried about his reactions to anything. you weren't concerned about his hair trigger temper; about whether or not something you said would set him off. there was the smallest licks of anxiety in the back of your mind as the radio silence was unnerving to a degree, you had grown accustomed to hearing lylas cheerful voice break into your mind. it was easy to shake those feelings though; spending the mostly quiet evenings catching up on shows or games you just simply hadn’t had to time for anymore. 

it had been storming all day, and you had found out after talking with other spider-people, that you had gotten quite lucky with your version of new york. the storms never pulled more trouble out of the damp dark cracks of the city, if anything it deterred them. the city life was hushed by the gray gloomy skies spitting fat raindrops at your window. you felt something ping up your spine as you were sitting at your desktop. it wasn’t the same feeling you got when you sensed some form of danger; this surge of nerves was telling you something was off today. before you could even get up from your desk chair, a large orange spiral of energy tore into your dimension; and out popped the looming man you were trying to avoid.

“you took your bracelet off.” there was an edge to his voice; something unknown on the cusp, threatening to fall out and into your lap. you didn’t dignify his statement with a response. you didn’t owe any responses to miguel. so you just stared at him in the silence of your apartment; his vivid eyes searching you for anything; and after a few more moments of silence he decided to continue talking.

“we’ve– i’ve– been trying to contact you.” another long beat. “you had duties to fulfill. you’ve been holed up in your dimension while i thought– lo que sea…”[1] his mouth snapped shut before he finished his sentence, cutting himself off before giving an exasperated sigh. his hands rubbed down his face, before revealing his eyes which were intensely trained on you. your expression gave nothing away, you were just going to stand aside and watch him fight with himself inside his head; or maybe he’d even just give up and leave. part of you hoped for the latter, but you also wanted him to finally be able to figure out how to speak to you.

“listen. i understand you were, shit probably still are, angry about how i reacted.” his words for grating against his clenched teeth and set jaw. clearly this was very difficult. “but i didn’t know how to react to the fact that you were a breath away from meeting death. i had come to terms with death a very long time ago. but i don’t know if i’d be able to get over it, if you died.” you continued to let him speak, watching him as he chewed on the words and mulled them over in his head. 

“you are so fucking annoying sometimes, but you are so lovely and you’re so soft. and i know you can hold you own but you…” you could practically see steam coming from his ears, as the cogs in his brain turned away trying his best to figure out how to express his thoughts. he stopped talking for a moment as he approached you slowly. “tenía tanto miedo que sentí ganas de vomitar.”[2] his voice was a fraction of the volume it once was. his hands gently grabbed yours.

“i’m sorry i was…more or less a dick. you didn’t deserve that, especially after you saved my skin. quería… darte las gracias por salvarme la vida.”[3] his eyes bore into your own. now you were genuinely speechless, and not just holding out due to spite. thankfully your body acted for you, reaching forward and wrapping your arms around miguel’s strong abdomen. you let your head rest against his chest and you waited for his reaction. after a few beats his arms wrapped around your frame. his head ducked down to tuck into the crook of your neck.

you whispered out a thank you, to which you felt a quick puff of air escape miguel’s nose. he couldn’t understand why you were thanking him. you pulled your arms back and over his shoulder, gently grabbing a handful of his dark hair and pulling his head back up to look at you. before he could say anything you lightly placed your lips onto his in a timid kiss. an action so tender and so soft, it managed to shatter miguel's heart and rebuild it anew. it took less than a second for miguel to kiss you back. immediately the atmosphere changed, electricity surging through the both of you as miguel deepened the kiss. his hands skated around your body, kneading the flesh underneath his fingers whenever he paused his ministrations.

your hands were still occupied with fists fulls of his hair, and you took that as an opportunity to tug on his hair as you two made out. his mouth pulled away from yours for the briefest moment; allowing himself to let out a breathy groan. his hands planted themselves firmly on your ass, squeezing hard making you yelp. as you both made out, he was backing you up into the wall; and before you even realized your back was pressed flat against the wall. his knee immediately slid between your thighs, slotting right between them as if you were made to fit against each other. 

his thigh pressed hard against your core, and you let out a stuttering gasp at the pressure. he gradually took hold of all of your senses. he was becoming overwhelming. you gently pushed against his chest, humming against his lip as his tongue continued to play with your bottom lip. he pulled his head away after a few more moments, almost irritated by the prospect of leaving your lips for more than thirty seconds.

“what’s wrong mi amor?” his voice had dropped a couple of octaves. his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you. “are you still hurt?” you shook your head in response. he had backed up enough to let you slip out from between him and the wall. you grabbed his hand and led him to your bedroom. the whole apartment was dark aside from the dim lamps you had lit scattered around the few rooms. you could hear the rain still colliding with the glass of your window, however that was mostly drowned out by the pounding of your heart. you swore miguel could hear it as well, which only made matters worse.

you had merely dreamed of scenarios similar to these, never once thinking they could actually become real. some section of your brain wondered if you were passed out in bed already. sure you and miguel were amicable with each other, but he was such a shut off man that you were never really able to characterize what you were to him; and vice versa.

the end of your bed came in contact with your calves, and miguel pushed you down onto it. you landed with a quite huff, while the realization of what was going to happen tonight dawned on you. miguel must’ve seen the deer in headlights look on your face, as he leaned down with his hands bracing himself on either side of your shoulders.

“i want to show you just how grateful i am for what u did for me… only if you allow me.” his face was nothing but completely genuine, giving you a way to say no to all of this if you really wanted to. you didn’t say anything in response, you merely wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back down into a much more heated kiss. miguel groaned low in his throat at the feeling of you yanking him down. unfortunately for you though, he started pulling away, instead standing upright once more to take on his suit. with a quick shrug of his shoulders his chest was exposed, suit still sitting low on his hip. not like it was hiding anything from you. you could clearly see the line of his hard dick straining against this unstable molecular prison.

“baby, if you want this to keep going… im gonna have to hear you say it.” the corners of his mouth were tugged upwards in a sly smirk. he wanted nothing more than to hear you say how much you wanted him at this moment. fuck he felt his cock jump at the mere thought of your plush lips opening to beg for him. he watched as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, observing the way your struggled with vocalizing your thoughts.

“miguel…” your voice was a pathetic whimper, and you squeezed your thighs together to alleviate your desperation. miguel’s practically rolled back into his skull, hearing you say his name like that– his big hand gripped your knees which had been brought up to your chest, his talons threatening to spring out and dig into your soft skin.

“say it baby. i gotta hear you say it.” he edged you on, his erection now pressed firmly against your ass as encouragement.

“miguel please… i need you so bad. dreamt about this moment.” your confession felt like a swift quick to the chest, successfully ridding his lungs of any oxygen. you’d dreamt about this before. how could he hold back now.

“dios mío… siento que un día me vas a matar.”[4] his voice was a mere growl at this point, his jaw clenched as he stared down at you. “tell me, what exactly have you dreamt about?” he shifted you further up onto the mattress, giving him the opportunity to box you in with his huge frame. embarrassment was licking at your subconscious like flames, making your whole body get swelteringly hot. but there was something in miguel’s expression that egged you on. you felt like you were going to die if you didn’t tell him.

“i think about your teeth…a lot… recently i’ve found myself– ugh this is so…” you covered your face with your hands before continuing on. “i think about you biting me…again i guess… i think about your venom.” you just never ceased with rendering miguel speechless, he guessed it was just one of your many talents at this point.

you were starting to get nervous about your confession. miguel hadn’t responded yet, but before you could get too into your own head you felt his lips ghost over you neck; right across the spot he bit you the first time. your breath hitched in your throat, and you involuntarily whimpered.

“you’ve really gotta trust me if you want that. you’d give everything up to me.” you only nodded your head. you trusted him; in all honesty you think you trusted him more than almost anyone in the society. you heard him click his tongue sharply.

“what did i say earlier? if you want this i gotta hear you say it.” you felt his breath fan over your neck, as he peppered small kisses all over it and your chest. you had wrapped your legs around his waist, and he was very gently grinding down into you. gentle vibrations wracked their way through your entire body causing small gasps and whimpers to come spilling from your kiss swollen lips.

“please miguel… i surrender everything to you. i trust you.” that was all he needed to hear before he bit down into your trapezius muscle, just like before. only this time you were much more aware of the effects now. he stayed like that for a couple seconds longer, before detaching from your neck and licking away the blood from the wound. slowly but surely you felt all motor functions slip from your body. you were overcome with this euphoric dullness, you felt like you were floating. while you slowly felt all control drain from your body, miguel was making quick work of your clothes, sharp claws slicing through your shorts and shirt like it was nothing. he whispered promises of new clothes as he continued with your bra and panties.

“how are you feeling mi amor? can you speak at all?” you acknowledged miguel’s questions with a quiet moan. as much as he wanted to take his time with you, work you up before tearing everything back down; he knew he had very little patience left, and limited time to work with the venom. your metabolism was extremely fast in comparison to the usual suspects he would subject his venom to, so he had much less time to keep you in this dreamy haze. he wanted to make sure the only word you could think of was his name.

the rest of his spider suit disappeared into nothing as he positioned you. you legs had fallen from his waist a little while ago when you first started feeling the venom, so he flipped you over onto your stomach. he arms wrapped underneath your hips to hoist you up so your ass was in the air, with your back arched and chest pressed into the mattress beneath you. he knew he was going to warm you up. miguel hasn’t exactly had many partners as of late but he was aware of his size. one of his hands found its way to your pussy, his other hand bracing your hip and keeping you steady. his fingers rubbing gentle circles into your clit. hazy pleasure rolled through you, like waves lapping at the shore. long strung out moans clawed their way up your throat; spurring miguel on. his fingers had moved from your clit, moving deeper in as they breached your hole. a deep groan echoed through to room.

“christ you’re so fucking wet. such a slut, ready to give up any control.” god his dick was painfully hard now. pulsing steadily every few seconds, weeping precum and begging to be buried deep in your hot cunt. he felt your walls flutter and clench when he degraded you, and he filed that information deep into his brain. his fingers were so overwhelming through the fog that settled inside your skull. your breaths had become erratic, chest rising and falling to desperately take in air. you moans were cracking, as miguel fully rammed three fingers in and out of you.

“i hear you baby, i hear you. im gonna take care of you.” he curled his fingers in search of that one spot that would make you see stars. it didn’t take long for him to find it as your volume increased even more. 

“m-mig…” you desperately tried to form words; to warn miguel of your rapidly approaching orgasm. you were fighting against the paralysis and the overwhelming floating feeling. your pussy clenched down tight against miguel’s fingers, a sudden wetness coating most of his hand. he pumped his fingers a couple more times as he worked you through your orgasm. once your breathing settled a little he gently took his fingers out of you. he took his fingers into his mouth, grunting as your taste flooded his taste buds. 

his patience had thoroughly snapped, two iron grips digging into your hips as he lined himself up with your aching pussy. he steadily began to push himself into you, breath getting punched out of him with every inch your hot walls enveloped. once he finally bottomed out, you both needed time to catch your breath. you were so full of him and you finally felt complete. the only thing you could think about was miguel. no amount of time could have prepared you for miguel to start moving. he immediately set a brutal pace, the sounds coming out of him resembling that of an animal. 

“god you’re– holy fuck- practically strangling me. greedy pussy just sucking me in for more.” you struggled to comprehend what he was saying. miguel curled in on top of you, pressing you flush against his broad chest. one hand started rubbing hard circles into your clit, whiled the other held you firmly to him. the placement of his arm across your chest allowed him access to your nipples, something he quickly took advantage of. he tweaked and pinched the hard pebble, as he struggled to keep his eyes open. he wanted to look at your face as he caused you to come undone for a second time. your mouth had lulled open, freely drooling onto the pillow beneath your head. tears squeezed their way out of your eyes.

your bodies stuck together, the sweat clinging to your skin. miguel continued to incoherently mumble spanish to you, and you were far too blissed out to listen to anything at all. the white hot coil in the very bottom of your stomach threatening to snap. you cunt fluttered and clamped down on miguel’s dick. it only spurred him on even more, his pace punishing now as he fucked you into the mattress. a long broken scream boomed from your throat as you came, your vision going completely white despite you eyes being clenched tightly shut. your eyebrows screwed up in an expression of pure pleasure. miguel slammed down fully into you, his cock kissing your cervix as he came with a loud moan. you were already so full of his cock that there was practically no room for him cum. he watched with wide eyes and his cum spilled from your spent pussy dripping down around his cock that was still inside you.

he let you both level out before pulling out as carefully as possible. the friction still causing you to cry out in overstimulation. miguel hushed your cries by pressing light kisses all over your face and neck. his thumbs brushed away the stray tears. he finally turned you back over, carefully laying your head back down onto the pillow below you.

“can you move at all mi amor?” your headspace had still not returned to normal, seeing as how you didn’t really respond. miguel got up from the bed and quietly padded over to your kitchen. you whimpered out for him to return, not enjoying the silence of being alone in the room in this loopy headspace you’ve found yourself in. a few moments later he returned to the room, a cup of water and warm washcloth in his hands. the bed dipped underneath the weight of his body as he set the cup of water on the table for a moment and began working on getting you clean. once this was done he flung the now dirty washcloth into your hamper.

his strong arms shifted you for the last time that night, leaning you against him with your head cradled against his chest once he had gotten comfortable. with you in this position he reached over to grab the water and pressed the rim to your bottom lip, silently offering. you dipped your head back just enough to take a couple of careful sips before relaxing your head against him once again. with the rain as white noise in the background you drifted in and out of consciousness. 

“gracias, mi amor.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[1] - whatever

[2] - i was so scared that i felt like vomiting

[3] - i wanted... to thank you for saving my life

[4] - dear god... why do i get the feeling you're going to be the death of me

[sizebrained]

Unstuck Together: Ben's Perspective Pt 3

Our big awkward boy and tiny girl get to talking trying to figure out how to get her out of the trap. Squee! Content Warning: Adult themes and language, some gruesome details w slight gore related to a car crash. Fear, death, danger, terror, therapy, injury, panic attacks, and first meetings. Awkwardness. And angst, oh the angst.

I love their dynamic and hope you do too!

*** Despite what he said, Ben lifted the glue trap straight up in one swift movement. He didn’t even need to lift his arms that high, his shoulders were above the countertop while he was sitting on the floor. He turned his body while he lifted it so he could keep eye contact with her the whole time. Unlike his lift, Ben did actually lower her slowly onto the cool expanse of the shining white counter. It was the first time he found himself appreciative of the countertops being so damn low.

They were well below his hips when he was standing and he had to hunch over to make any food. That was rare though. Ben pulled himself up off the floor while standing on his one good leg, keeping his hands on the counter for support. He pulled a stool under himself and sat down while looking her over.

He reached across the counter and grabbed one of the complimentary bottled waters left for him as a new tenant. It looked tiny in his oversized hands. He quickly twisted the cap off and was going to pour it straight from the bottle for her before he realized that wasn’t going to end well.

Instead, Ben figured out that he should use the bottle cap. He poured what seemed like barely anything into the little piece of plastic.

“Here, have some water. Sorry if it spills, this isn’t easy.” Ben said as he slowly lowered the half full bottle cap down to her face.

He tilted it as little as he could manage. He squinted and peered over his hand relieved that most of it was going into her mouth. Without asking, he refilled the cap and poured it for her again. He started doing his slow breathing and head nodding, syncing it up with his motions to calm himself down.

When he went to fill the cap for the 4th time, she spoke again. He accidentally spilled some on his hand, quickly righting the bottle in his grip. “Thank you. But that is quite enough for now.” She said in a very crisp British accent. “Oh sure. No problem. Just tell me if you want some more though, ok?” Ben said, setting the bottle and cap to the side.

He looked at her situation again. He knew better than to touch the surface of the trap himself. He’d gotten his hand stuck on one before in a sketchy locker room during an away game once in High School. It was gross. Ben scanned the countertops for his phone and reached over her to grab it. He searched for how to safely remove an animal from a glue trap.

He found a website titled 6 Steps to Save Animals Stuck on Glue Traps, but only after scrolling through several ads to buy glue traps first. Weird.

“Ok, ok...so here we go.” Ben said, literally reading the website out loud.

“Uh so glue traps are one of the cruelest methods of rodent control…” Ben started again before her voice interrupted him.

“GLUE TRAP?!” She exclaimed loudly, the water clearly helped her voice.

“A bloody glue trap?! That’s what this is?! What on earth is wrong with you?!” She seemed really angry. “Uhm…Well…Uh…I…Sorry?” Ben stuttered and started not quite sure what to say. Ben thought she was looking at him like he was the stupidest person she had ever met, then she spoke again. “Did you put this glue trap down where I apparently found it?” She asked him. “No no no! No way!” Ben protested. Before he could say anything else she continued. It was almost as bad as his only televised post game interview right after a game. It had been a disaster.

After that, he developed a habit of bolting to the locker room and literally fleeing anyone trying to do another one. Right now, Ben felt like he was losing on a foreign quiz show. “Did you invent these horrible, horrible things then?” She asked. “No?” Ben said, sounding unsure. He had no idea that they had actually been invented before he was born. “Then WHAT, dear boy, are you apologizing to me for?” She said, silently waiting for an answer.

“Uh well you asked what on earth was wrong with me and I…” Ben answered before she cut him off again.

“Young man, when you apologize to someone you do it for something that you actually did. Some careless error or transgression perhaps. One does not simply wander through the world thoughtlessly tossing around apologies without any meaning or purpose.” She paused again, finishing her point. He just blinked at her. He was taken off guard by her voice, her tone, and her words. She sounded old but didn’t look like it. And young man? His brow furrowed. She looked like she could pass for a freshman.

At most she looked like she was the same age as his older sister. He’d think she was really cute if she was his size. Although he never met a girl his size. Ben definitely thought she'd be in Sam's sight if she was normal sized. He stayed in silent contemplation confused by where she was going with this.

When he stayed silent, she continued, “I wasn’t talking about you specifically, I was talking about humans.” “Humans?” Ben said, turning his attention back to her. The way she said it made him feel like he was an alien. He was pretty sure she was shorter than his thumb, so that made sense. But he did have big hands. In a motion he thought was discrete, he moved his thumb a little closer to the glue trap to confirm his suspicion about her height. Then he noticed what looked to be like a tail belonging to her stuck to one side of the trap and paused. She noticed the massive hand’s movement then piped up, “What are you doing?”

“Oh uhm…sorry?” Ben offered. He wasn’t sure if he wasn’t supposed to apologize or not. “What else does it say about these abominations? Especially about how to remove oneself from it?” She asked a little less angrily. “Oh uh sorr…right, so blah blah blah…” Ben said, catching himself before apologizing again.

He skipped through explanations of how some animals would chew through their own legs to try and escape along with several pictures of struggling animals. He got to the actual steps and continued. “Gather supplies: You’ll need a pair of gloves, a dishtowel, baby oil, some tissues, a damp cloth, and a secure container or shoebox with air vents.” He read out loud again to her then frowned realizing he didn’t have half of this stuff. She stayed silent listening to him and gave him a look to continue. “Right so Get to Work. Cover the animal’s head with the dishtowel to calm him or her down,” Ben read. “DO NOT DARE PUT A DISHTOWEL OVER MY HEAD” She shouted up at him in a growl. Ben simply swallowed, feeling his cheeks turning red. Ben’s cheeks turned red and he felt his heartbeat getting faster and his talking matched it. “I won’t! I wouldn’t! This is supposed to be for animals you know? Not…uh…people.” He said looking down at her and noticing the tail again. Ben continued talking, hopeful she wouldn’t yell at him again. Thankfully, she wasn’t very loud even when she did. “I don’t have a lot of this stuff, so I have to order it and get someone to deliver it. But don’t worry we’re in a pretty big city so someone is almost always up at this time of night.” Ben explained.

He knew this because, even if he could drive with the cast, he refused to get into a car again. And it was a pain to walk anywhere very far on the crutches. 

That meant he had everything delivered or Sam brought it. He could call her but she was probably drunk at a party. The last time he called her at this time of the night he interrupted a hookup with some poor freshman that was like a deer in the headlights with her. He couldn’t believe he was going to order baby oil at 3 in the morning on a Saturday night. He definitely wasn't going to add rubber gloves, terrified of what someone would think he was doing.

Without the gloves, maybe they would just think he a fussy baby was involved and that he wasn’t some kind of perv. He added some ice cream to his order thinking that'd make it look better somehow, but wasn't sure. He added an insane tip. “Uhm...Are you hungry at all? I’m getting some ice cream too. Do you want anything else?” Ben said, holding up the phone to show her. “ICE CREAM?!” she shouted in disbelief, continuing, “I have been stuck on this dreaded thing for who knows how long and you are going to take an ice cream break?!” “No no no no! It says that I have to gently massage a few drops of baby oil into the area where the animal is stuck. And I don’t have any baby oil so I have to get some," He looked like he was almost panicking. She realized she needed him calm but he kept going. "But I was worried someone would judge me for getting baby oil at this time of night so I thought maybe it’d look like I was just a tired mom or something if I added ice cream. Do you like chocolate? I got chocolate…” Ben said in a hurried combination of reading the instructions again out loud to defend himself and trying to explain his thought process. She stared at him in silence before slowly stating his words back at him in a question, “You have to gently massage a few drops of baby oil into the area? My boy, this is stuck to my back. My whole body is the area. And you’re going to gently massage it?” She said it in a way that almost sounded like she was testing him. It was like she wanted to know if he was up for it. She looked amused. Ben felt himself starting to panic at the realization. She was so small and he was so big. He could cover her whole face with one fingertip. 

He pulled his lips into his mouth running them across his front teeth thinking. He took a deep breath to steady himself. He must have looked more nervous than she was based on how her tone changed when spoke up again. It was tender.

“We got off on the wrong foot. You are doing brilliantly, really. I do not know what I would have done if you had not come into that closet," she said earnestly.

“My name is Hazel. What is your name?” She asked.

“Oh sorry I should have…” Ben stopped. “Sorry for the sorry. My name is Ben.”

“Lovely to meet you Ben. Can you try and stay brilliant for me? How long until the oil is here?” Hazel added feeling like she was now the one doing the comforting.

Ben checked his phone saying out loud, “Just 20 minutes. There’s a big box store nearby.”

Hazel sighed. 20 minutes seemed so definite compared to how long she must have been stuck on the trap in that closet. Cob and her father must be worried sick.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry? Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable while we wait?” Ben asked, he’d put his elbow down on the countertop and rested his face in his palm staring down at her.

Hazel took a deep breath and looked up at him. His big green eyes reminded her of the country estate she grew up on back in England. It had been 80 years since she'd seen any part of it though.

She felt like crying again, but this time in relief instead of despair.

“No thank you. But maybe once I’m free I will try some of that ice cream. Chocolate you said?” She asked, allowing herself a slight grin. She rwas relieved to get another chance at staying alive.

And maybe having another human in her life after a long while could be good too. *** End of Part 3! At least from Ben's point of view

ಠ‿↼

[rainbowheartunicorn]

Commissions Open! (Slight Emergency)

Howdy! I’m doin them commission type things again! I can do furries, ponies, anthro, whatever really! Slight emergency on these commissions as I’m currently dealing with having potentially covid (been out sick for 5 days straight and still goin’ :C) and I need to have money to be able to support me and my partner when they come flying over to my place!

My TOS and commission form can be found here: https://rainbowheartunicorn.carrd.co/#

You are also more than free to just DM me yourself if you would like a commission if that makes you feel more comfortable! I don’t bite! And I’m desperate! Haha! ha! ;w; I promise it’s ok to ask me questions, ask a lot of em at me! I won’t even get angry or disappointed if you change your mind, I know how it be! If my art style tickles your fancy now is not the time to be shy ( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ )

I’m pretty haggle-able so if you are hunkerin’ to score a slight discount on some commissions via ordering a few, having a simple character that could potentially cost less than normal, etc, feel free to throw ideas at me and I’ll be willing to work within your budget!

If you can’t afford anything then please please retweet (squinting at you, twitter newcomers. Retweets are important!! That’s how posts get seen!) it would really help me out a ton.

I can also do Chibis (at reduced prices), pixel art (website has more info), style matching, and more! Examples are on my website, come check it out!

Thanks!!

[ruthlesslistener]

"I didn't mean to trigger! We BOTH hurt each other!" And the trigger in question is... (squints eyes) "Being called a Pedophile over different headcanons" . You sound like a huge asshole right now, just saying. I'm not even the person who sent that ask lol.

Dude. Its just you who was wrong. Why you gotta make things about yourself again...

I'm not saying that what I did wasn't wrong, but it also wasn't intentional, was the thing, and I never meant to call anon themselves a pedophile. I was talking about the ideology and the very specific 'its okay because even if they're physically a child they're mentally an adult' talking point, operating off of the assumption that that was what the conversation was about as well as the fact that I assumed everyone would realize that just because you're regurgitating a talking point from a specific group doesn't mean that you are part of said group or believe in their beliefs. As it turns out, that wasn't what it was about at all, I was unclear that I do not in any way think that what you like in fiction is a solid indicator of who you are as a person, and that's where my error lay.

I'm also not the only one in the wrong here, because I kept repeatedly saying that I fucked up, that I was done with the conversation and didn't want to talk about that topic because it made me very uncomfortable, yet people still kept sending me asks about it and blowing off my very real distress about it. THAT'S where I'm not in the wrong, and that's why I pointed it out. I'm not making this about myself, I'm specifically pointing out that it was a two-way fight where both people were in error. And yes, by 'both people' I'm very much including me. Because I very much charged into the a china-shop conversation with all the subtlety and thought of a moose in rut (that's where I'm at fault), but also because people kept ignoring my explanations about it and jumping to conclusions/saying I was saying things that I very explicitly stated that I did not mean and was regretful for letting the error come about in the first place. THAT'S where I'm not at fault.

No, anon is not a pedophile and was not talking about pedophilic talking points. I also very much never called them that specifically, or did it with the intent to drag anyone who thinks like that under the umbrella of 'very real dangerous sexual predator'. I have zero desire to redtag people or use my apparent fame to drag people through the muck, or make them stop having headcanons different than my own. I made a poorly-phrased quip about something I thought was a nonissue on a website where people DO jump to absolute conclusions about a person's character based on what they like in completely fictional content and then got severely fucking turned around, which prompted me say more bullshit about something that wasn't even close to the case of what I was angry about.

I was in the wrong there and I fully admit it, but you also have to believe that I'm genuine when I say that it was a mistake and that I'm just as turned around about it as everyone else, because that's really all that I can do here.

[midnightpink]

in the ether, there is a website

read it here on ao3

in the afterlife, regulus finds a website.

by:  inthesquare

Words: 2,393, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Regulus Black, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Mary Macdonald (Harry Potter), Lily Evans, Dorcas Meadowes, Marlene McKinnon, Pandora Lovegood, Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr., God

Relationship: Regulus Black/James Potter

Additional Tags: regulus is dead, this is always a nice way of starting this, but Regulus in the afterlife, finds a website, yep that’s the whole plot, don’t know how to explain this except I could not sleep and wrote this between midnight and two am, James and regulus are very in love, Regulus is tired, Mr. James Fleamont Potter has loved Mr. Regulus Arcturus Black in every lifetime, mentions of God - Freeform, or a website “lady”, that might be God, or it might not, references to other jegulus fanfics, such as just lovers by zeppazariel, this was very self indulgent tm of me, very short nostalgic and slightly sad story, Light Angst, Reference to Death?, as a question because honestly I don’t even know, Regulus is talking to a website in the afterlife so yes, it might have references to death, etc - Freeform, If you squint it enough you will see James and Regulus owned a cat, If you squint it even more you will see wolfstar taking care James after Regulus passes, but it’s so brief I didn’t even put them as a tag, but knows that Sirius and Remus also found each other in every lifetime, mentions of the other characters, Angry Regulus Black, you need to read in between the lines, written in folklore’s font because at this point is basically a tradition, Read my notes, it’s important, I love to think of fanfics as all the lifetimes this couple got to love each other in the multiverse, LOVE AS DEVOTION, The ways Mr. James Potter loved Mr. Regulus Arcturus Black

[goodthoughts001]

Know the Common Misconceptions and Truths About Botox - Explained by Top Botox injector

Botox is the not-so-unseen beauty secret murmured about in the A-list circles. The wealthy and well-known people have exercised it for years to condense the emergence of wrinkles, but the treatment has massively grown in fame over the past 10 years. Both men and women are starting to cuddle Botox, not as a last option to smooth their face, but they embrace Botox as a precautionary measure for maintaining a youthful look. Here are some of the common misconceptions about Botox, and the truth behind using it. In you are interested in learning about "Top Botox injector", visit this website "https://dorisdaymd.com" today.

Botox is designed only for wrinkles

Truth: This misconception could not be more erroneous. Actually, Botox does not help wrinkles, such as laugh lines, and it is not perfect for wrinkles under the eyes. Conversely, Botox performs well in reducing the emergence of certain wrinkles. It is a successful migraine treatment and it is habitually used to lessen muscle stress and strain around the nervous system. It also offers a welcome relief for those who prone to undue sweating and may assist some people with despair.

Botox is not safe to use

Truth: By far, this is the most common misconception about Botox. The truth is that it is an FDA-approved product, and besides wrinkles, it can be effectively used for frown lines, crow's feet, in addition to several different symptoms of aging, and it has also been extensively used to treat medical disorders. The use of Botox has been closely watched by the FDA, and has offered it a stamp of authorization for several years. So Botox is safe to use.

Botox is not necessary until wrinkles appear

Truth: Botox can be applied as a preventive, beauty treatment. Actually, the finest occasion to start getting Botox treatments is earlier than the lines become imprinted on the skin. Botox can be employed to put off wrinkles from facial movements, such as raising the eyebrows or squinting if used earlier they ever start. If not, Botox can stop those lines from getting worse, but the skin texture of the user does not change. However, if one stops using Botox for any reason, the wrinkles will start to emerge.

Botox takes more time to recover

Truth: Actually, Botox does not take much time to recuperate at all. The injections are painless and quick and any marks from the actual injections are likely to vanish after 15 to 20 minutes.

Botox will make the face freeze

Truth: Botox does not freeze the muscles in the face of a user. Instead, it relaxes them when it is appropriately injected, and it can actually improve facial expressions. Occasionally, wrinkles form in a manner that makes an individual appear sad or angry. In those situations, Botox will help to reduce that look.

Botox is prepared from food poisoning

Truth: This is also one of the common misconceptions about Botox. Actually Botox is prepared from a sanitized protein, which is extracted from the toxin called Botulism. This derived protein is entirely purified and made safe for the body use. There are several medications that are based on certain resources in toxins that are entirely safe to use. Actually, Botox has one among the maximum satisfaction rate of 87 % of people using it.

[drkineildwicks]

Me @ my brain: don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t make another one we’ve got plenty of WIPs already don’t--

My brain: BH6/Beetlejuice AU

So yeah I got “Say My Name” from the Beetlejuice musical stuck in my head and after listening to it nonstop to try and joust it out I ended up doing this and now my brain is saying let’s do it full AU and now I’ve just resigned myself.

Anywho--basic idea is Hiro was trying to contact Tadashi and got Obake instead, shenanigans ensue (as they always do).  Technically drawing more on the Beetlejuice cartoon despite getting stuck on the musical song but that’s the one I have more experience with.  And apparently some Don’t Starve stuff too considering the arms.

Anyway it’s still in the planning stages so if you want to see more Beetlejuice-flavored Obake stuff I highly recommend checking out @betasuppe​’s Ghost!Obake AU because I never say no to more Obake. :D

As always, please be kind and reblog, not repost, thank you!

Big Hero 6 © 2014 Disney

Beetlejuice © 1988 Tim Burton

Done in Adobe Photoshop.

Also bonus:

[cryptidclaw]

The final three cats from for the Clan Generator Challenge! the Elders, Elderclaw, Beebriar, and Appleleg! I have discovered that I love drawing old cats, Appleleg is so skrunkly. 

Beebriar is going to find a way to protect all her grandkits and daughter in law if its the last thing she does! I think she might hold some self blame for the fact that she was not able to protect her own kits from Spiderstar.

These may be the last cats from the actual generator but I’m already planning on drawing some designs for the deceased cats from this clan! 

Image IDs below v

[Image 1 ID: Screenshot from the Clan Generator website which reads “HAWTHORNCLAN; The Demonic and Unstable”./End ID]

[Image 2 ID: A digital drawing of Elderclaw over a black background. She is laying down on her side with a sinister expression on her face, with squinted eyes and a small grin. She is a long spikey furred solid reddish brown (chocolate) molly, her fur fluffs up around the upper parts of her legs, and the rest of her legs are more slender and are a darker shade of brown, her neck, ears and tail are also this darker brown color. She has red slash mark scars on her body and face and she has grey fur around her nose and lip from old age. her eyes have wrinkles from old age and they are a pale blue color with red eyelashes and pupils. To her left is a screenshot of her description from the clan genorator which says, “ELDERCLAW- a chocolate she-cat, with long fur, and hazel eyes.” also to her left is white handwriting which says, “-Spiderstar and Swanheart’s mother; -very proud of her daughter; “Be more like your sister Swan”; evil old lady; this is where Spider got it from”./End ID]

[Image 3 ID: A digital drawing of Beebriar over a black background. She is standing and has a stern/ angry expression on her face. She is a short furred, round, orange and cinnamon tortoiseshell molly, she is mostly orange with solid reddish brown (cinnamon) colored patches, there is a patch of cinnamon over her eyes like a mask, over her shoulders, lower back, in rings down her tail and on her lower legs, she also has a heart shaped cinnamon patch on her chest. she is missing her left front leg and she has scars on the stump as well as on her left hind leg, her inner ears, nose and scars are all pink, and her eyes are yellow. To the left of her is a screenshot of her description from the clan genorator which says “BEEBRIAR- a cinnamon and red, mackerel tortoiseshell-tabby she-cat, with short fur, and yellow eyes.” Next to this is white hand writing which says “-About the same age as Plumfur; -Fennel & Hornetpaw’s maternal grandmother; -Retired early to the elder’s den claiming worsening pain due to her old injuries; -she actually did so bec. she knows she’s on Spider’s hit list and want’s to seem as unassuming & harmless as possible so she isn't killed; -wants to be there for & protect her grandkits and Rookleg; -an absolute badass & very smart; -super loving towards those she cares about, will end whoever hurts them if its the last thing she does!”./End ID]

[Image 4 ID: A digital drawing of Appleleg over a black background. He is sitting up though he is obviously very weak and boney and is having trouble holding himself up. He has a tired practically asleep expression on his face with his eye closed. He is a pale orange mackerel tabby tom with short scruffy fur, he has grey around his muzzle and he has long wispy s around his face. He is missing his right eye and has a scared droopy empty socket where it used to be, he also has a scar on his nose and back. His scars inner ears and nose are all pink. to the left of him is a screenshot of his description from the clan generator which says “APPLELEG- a red mackerel tabby tom, with short fur, and green eyes.” To the right of him is white handwriting which says “-extremally old; -how is he still alive??; -doesn't know what's going on; -Beebriars great- uncle, ya he’s that old.”/End ID]

[oparaxi]

「 Slut for Hire - Headcanons + Visuals 」

❥ Including ⁝ Keisuke, Mitsuya, Kazutora, Nahoya + Souya (Smiley 'n Angry), Draken + Emma (ALL TIMESKIP)

⊹°.*⋆ﾟ✁warnings: bullying, lingerie, groping, objectification, manipulative Mitsuya (if you squint), begging, dacryphilia, degrading, humiliation, possessiveness, minor cucking, creampie, bottom Kazutora, oral (male and female receiving), femdom on Tora, minor bondage, scissoring w/ Emma, hair pulling, slapping

⊹°.*⋆ﾟ✁summary: you need a little extra cash, and so you slut yourself out for it 'n become a whore for money with perks

Keisuke Baji

✁ Keisuke most likely only hired you for your tits. Seeing them all pretty n' perky on your website only made him want you all for himself. All he could do was scroll n' scroll through your page until he saw you wanted money for being a slut, and who was he to deny you of something he knew he could've provided for someone desperate for a cock in their mouth and a finger in their pussy.

✁ He wouldn't shut up about finally getting a girl to his poor co-workers at the pet shop, who did become curious 'cause his mouth would ramble on about how perfect you'd be in taking his size or how your tits that just seemed oh so perfect would be in his face practically 24/7. When you did finally meet with the ravenette the boy was just a mean lil bully to you, calling you out n' saying all mean things just 'cause you spread your legs for a little pretty penny.

✁ All the bullying never let up even on his way to his apartment that looked to good for him to handle, his hands landing on your ass 'cause your small miniskirt kept riding up, saying mean things like ”You wearin' this for me ain't ya? Want me in between those legs jus' cause you want my dick and my money?” Never gave you a break at all.

✁ All you could do was just nod along to his antics, letting him fondle with your chest all 'cause his excuse was ”I paid for ya, 'mma use you how I want.” Who were you to deny him when it just felt so good to have a male's touch on your starved body. 'S a shame you never felt proper pleasure before, even by someone just a lil nicer than what Kei would treat you. Throwin' you around in bed, folding you in harsh ways to get the most absolute access to your pretty pussy.

✁ Even with all the mean things he'd do like make you wear nothing but baby doll lingerie and lil cat ears, his pleasure was too good for you, making you babble ”'s too good! ” everytime his dick would bully its way inside your cunt, makin' it cry with your juices coating him in slick, sloppy mess on his bedsheets whenever he was done with you. Keisuke just could not wait, especially after long days of work and his pants would restrict his cock so painfully. :(. You were always quick to crawl to the door, the pure white lingerie he got for you huggin' your body, perking up your tits just the way he likes it. It was always your boobs being touched first like you weren't even there.

✁ ”Waitin' on me like a good kitten, I'll get ya treat for ya.” The treat was always his dick, how could you complain? You were a good little kitty for him with your cute white ears and ass plug with a fluffy white tail attached to it. Always filthy shit with Kei, something new in the span of a few hours and your poor pussy has to get used it. But you always got paid like he promised, always having a good amount of cash on you somehow, even with his job. Taking care of you so well.

Visualizers ❥ Kei + tail ass plug

Mitsuya Takashi

✁ Found you on a website to pass the time at his desk while making some clothes, tryin' to find the perfect inspiration for a more scandalous line of clothing until you popped up, curves, thighs n' all taking up his whole screen. Seeing all the content of you posted in mini dresses and shirts obviously too tight for you to handle, Mitsuya had to hire you, n' not just because it said you were looking for money in exchange for sex, he also needed a model n' your body was too perfect to let some other person who wouldn't know how to handle you have you for themselves.

✁ When you finally came to his office looking cute in your little get up just for him, his mouth certainly went tight couldn't stop staring at your plush thighs that were calling to him for just a squeeze, he is paying for you after all right? Who says he can't? You were standing there looking innocent 'nd clueless, expecting something completely different but instead it was just you trying on different styles of clothes for him, being his adorable model for the day.

✁ He was truly a sweetheart in the way he treated you, opening doors for you, always commenting on how you dress saying ”You look beautiful.” Generally innocent comments leaving you more confused as to when you're going to get just a little bit of dick from him. During the day he'd spoil you, buying you cute outfits and touching you here n' there, just barely on your thighs so close to your panties 'cause you wore one of the shortest skirts you owned just to entice the glasses wearing boy even more. Poor 'Suya, someone help him :((.

✁ 'S already embarrassing enough clinging onto him in public, sandwiching his arm in between your boobs to give him a hint, any hint that you want your legs spread and pussy lapped at like no tomorrow, but you just couldn't win with him acting just as clueless as you were. Little did you know seein' you whine and poke your bottom lip out in hopes of getting him to do something enticed Mitsuya more, your outfits getting more revealing by the passing day to strain his self control even more. He'd always think how cute you look trying so hard, acting so babyish just for a little bit of him. So mean of him.

✁ You were melting like puddy in his hands trying to get into his pants for days. Watching you crumble only to get a small kiss on your pouty pink lips, or a pinch on your thigh and watching him saunter away. Torturing you until you crack was all apart of his game. You only finally folded when Suya was making a new line of clothes and asked you to model. How rude of him to toy around with you like that, dressing in cute short clothes too tight for your body, making you whine ”Suya it's too tight, take it off.” Mitsuya isn't that cruel, it would be mean of him to let you suffer even longer 'cause of his little game right?

✁ ”Ya just as tight as the dress you put on, shit,” he'd grunt while finally giving you what you wanted for days. Leaving you sniffling being bent over his desk face first into the wooden surface, your ass being up 'nd exposed n' spread open by his cock pushing its way into your crying slit. You finally gettin' what you've you've babbling 'nd whining about for ages and here you are begging for him to slow down just 'cause he's bullying his way inside you pressing your face against his desk n' holding your hands pinned behind your back. If anyone walked in they'd get the perfect sight of the slick you left on his cock rimming around his tip, your legs trembling 'nd your tears staining the surface. ”Ya been begging on your hands n' knees for this, take it.”

Vizualizers ❥ Suya + over his desk

Kazutora Hanemiya

✁ Shamelessly scrolling through his phone, trying to find somethin' to get off too until he stumbled upon your ass being arched so high in the air he damn near came at that. Could not get enough of your content n' the way you rode the silicone dildos nestled so far into ass that Tora considered if anal was his thing or not. Had to get you the moment he saw you were looking for cash just to get off, but so adorably hesitant about it. Ended up getting you anyways thanks to the advice of his good friend Kei, and when you finally came Tora was long gone. You looked so damn sexy in skimpy clothes up close 'nd the fact that you basically belonged to him made everything so much better.

✁ As much as Kazutora wanted you, he was just so shy about it. Always blushing at minor teases spewing out your pretty mouth, the way you'd press your chest against his front to grab his attention. You had to take control of everything so quickly just to let him relax around you, giving him a sloppy n' messy dick sucking, using your saliva to ease him down your throat, swirling your tongue on the singular vein so close to his reddened tip. Gives the best reactions to the gags 'nd slurps on his dick, back arching high while gripping at your hair trying so hard not to make you choke further on his cum, but he just can't help it the more you bob your head up and down.

✁ It was always up to you to get you both off, putting in most of the work without an ounce of help from Tora all 'cause he's a little shy. Cuffing him down to the bed with a cockring at the base of his dick had him melting into a puddle for a sense of release from you, whining about how he'll do better all 'cause he disobeyed you one time. :(. Was cumming loads from your torture on his poor not so little cock n' balls that kept leaking the more you touched him. Embarrassing him about it leaving him all shades of red and writhing for more. Paid you double than what you asked for that night.

✁ After topping him more than once Tora felt so guilty about it, going on about how he should try n' take over, except you kept teasing him sayin' how he never could all 'cause he was crying for you multiple times. Always bullying him whenever you got the chance 'nd watching him shy away like a fucking cat for not being able to pleasure you back.

✁ Made it his mission to take things over for once, so having your legs hiked up on his shoulders with his head in between your legs was such a pretty sight you had to save for later on. Tora knew just what to do to make you whine, leaving little marks on your thighs or boobs makin' them look pretty in his spit. It wasn't until he took one lick at your clit did you realize you underestimated the poor boy. Definitely kept toying with you just to watch you struggle to compose yourself, barely pushing a finger into your cunt that was already fluttering for just a little bit more. He isn't as bad as you 'n gave in too early, but seeing you get off to each long lick of his tongue was a better satisfaction for him.

Vizualizers ❥ Tora + eating you out

Nahoya Kawata (Smiley) + Souya Kawata (Angry)

✁ One's mean, the other's a little nicer but still mean, and there's no change ever since they found you on your innocent looking page looking cute in your clothes that hardly cover a nipple or pussy. Nahoya wanted you from the start, Souya was hesitant but you looked just too enticing to give up to someone else. As soon as you finally came to them they were already sandwiching your little body in between theirs, Nahoya having the most sadistic grin and Souya trying his best not to stare at your tits that were practically in his face.

✁ Everything was always so fast with them, the peach haired male trying to get you out of your panties whenever you were near and the light blue twin would shy as his brother tried to get him to touch a woman's body for the first time. Embarrassing him here and there to the point where he sheds a few tears was just too good of a sight for you. Gagging on poor crying Souya's dick 'nd making him cum prematurely while Nahoya would fuck you from behind, all three of you getting off whorishly for each other was your daily routine.

✁ Public humiliation was one of the biggest things between the two of them. Making it known that you belong to the Kawata twins, having a cute collar with pink and blue decorating it just to make it more known. Always possessive with you, saying things like talking to other guys is forbidden n' if you did you'd be used like a sex doll for their own pleasure. :(. Not caring about you 'nd stuffing their cock wherever is open for them. Nahoya bullying his dick into your ass that would pucker whenever Souya would hit your g-spot just the right way. ”Crying over pussy? 'S too much for you to handle Souya? ” Humiliating him for barely getting started and already leaking inside you, your tits being pressed against his chest.

✁ If one twin wasn't there then the other would have no choice but to satisfy you on their own. Imagine Souya who's too scared n' shy he'll mess up, crying n' babbling about ”I can't handle it, is' too much,” or ”'M not as good as Nahoya,” so you're left to pleasure him all by your lonesome, marking his neck up and down, pinning his body just a lil tighter so he doesn't squirm too much while you barely push his tip into your cunt. Giving his needy dick just enough attention to have him already sniffling n' begging for more of your warmth around him. If you're nice you might give in to what he wants, toying with his pink nipples at the same time 'nd riding him by rolling your hips, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as more tears flow down his cheeks. Such a pretty crier.

✁ If Nahoya was the only one left to pleasure you 'cause his little brother was gone, he'd take matters into his own hands to make sure you cry. Pushing his cock so deep in it damn near pierces your cervix, your eyes becoming white and brimming with tears as he slaps around your tits like fuckin' toys, calling you dirty names like ”Horny little slut,” or degrading you like a meanie with ”Filthy bitch cryin' for my dick.” His hands wrapped around your neck having you gasp for air n' feeling lightheaded from how much he's pounding into your sore sopping cunt that just can't get enough. Souya would walk in at the wrong right time to see you cream all over his older brother's dick, Nahoya painting your pussy white with a few more thrusts. All Souya can do is just watch and palm his growing erection at the dirty sight.

Vizualizers ❥ Nahoya & Souya + threesome

Ken Ryuguji (Draken) + Emma Sano

✁ Emma proposed the idea of getting you seeing your pretty face all over your website. Poor Ken was so confused but went along with it anyways, you were too sexy to pass up and the look on the blonde's face made everything so much better. Having you in their house like a personal chew toy was their favorite thing to do. As soon as you got there Emma always had a hand on your tit and the other looking for Ken's dick. She was too pretty to ignore, always whining for your attention whenever the ravenette wouldn't give her what she wanted, making a big fuss all the time for no reason :(. All it takes is your lips on hers to keep her quiet n' satisfied.

✁ Draken would use the same tactics against Emma, giving you just a little more attention than he would to her just to watch her sniffle n' cry for the both of you, spreading her legs 'nd pushing up her tits instead of being a brat or stubborn. She was always so easy to break down to nothing but a needy blonde who wanted a pussy in her mouth and a cock stuffed in her ass. You 'nd Ken couldn't even refuse someone as cute as her, always giving into what she wants whenever she asked for it. Fucking the two of them was always tiring but so fucking hot, Emma's pussy beneath yours, your cunt dripping onto her opening as Draken stuffs his dick into either one of you, taking turns of who to fuck.

✁ Draken's favorite thing is to watch you and Emma slobber all over his tip. Kissing it, licking it, sucking on it like dogs in heat. He always would record each time you both were on him, spewing out shit like ”You love this dick don't you?, ” whenever you or her would whine that you weren't getting enough 'cause the other was hogging him all for themselves. It would always be fixed with a shot of Ken's cum on your faces or in your mouths with praises of ”Good whores not wastin' a single drop.” So filthy even porn sites would grimace at it.

✁ If Emma wasn't there to rub your pussy against, Ken was always to the rescue to fulfill your needs, thrusting his hips against yours like a wild animal 'cause ”You asked for it.” You were just so needy, almost too needy for him that he had to stuff you with his dick to keep you silent. His tip would always pierce against your sweet spot your cervix leaving you babbling about how you love his cock and how good it makes you feel, feeling all fuzzy n' dumb over it. It always took spanks to your ass or your face to make you focus, pulling on your hair to make you look at him, remind you he's the one fucking you n' making you feel good. Always left a good batch of his cum dripping out of your swollen pussy by time he's finished with you.

✁ If Ken was the one absent, you and Emma would have to satisfy each other yourselves without his help. She would always whine about how her fingers just can't pleasure her like you or Ken does, sniffling on the brink of tears saying ”Please do it for me, it feels better when you do.” You can't even refuse 'cause she asked so nicely. Your cunts being centimeters apart, your fingers knuckles deep into hers, curling them to her liking n' listening to her pretty moans, her fingers trying to do the same for you, rubbin' on your clit or inside your cunt. You both just want to get off so badly you resort to rubbing your cunts n' clits against each other for more friction, your pussy lips practically making out with each other and slobbering all over one another to get off so whorishly.

Vizualizers ❥ Emma & Draken + threesome | Emma + scissoring | Draken + rough sex

「 ©content belongs to @oparaxi 」

[arrowflier]

Prompt: Ian teasing Mickey for being short

One of the upsides of being married to Ian Gallagher—that fucker was tall. He could reach the high cabinets, pull the cord on the bus without stretching, and tower over assholes too stupid to realize that an angry, shorter man could murder them in two minutes flat if they kept pushing their luck.

One of the downsides of being married to Ian Gallagher—that fucker was tall, and he knew it.

He liked to remind people, too. Got a real kick out of it. Especially when that person was Mickey.

“Hey Mickey, I found some new jeans for you!” he’d teased once, holding up a pair of stretched pants meant for the dolls Debbie kept trying to get Franny to play with. “They might be a little long, but I’m sure we can hem them.”

“Hey Mickey, can you grab the—wait, sorry, forgot I put it where the kids can’t reach,” he’d said another day, reaching for the beer sitting on top of the fridge at the Gallagher house.

“Guess that means you can’t have any either,” he’d added, holding the can above his head like he expected Mickey to jump for it. “Not sure what a safe amount is for someone your size.”

“Hey Mickey—” when he was walking too slowly, two strides for Ian’s one, trying to keep up on the West Side sidewalks.

“Hey Mickey—” when he was looking at new coats, steadfastly ignoring the website’s suggestion of “men’s petite” and “short” options.

“Hey Mickey—” when someone had to chase Franny through narrow spaces, or play leap frog, or hide and seek.

So when Ian said, ��Hey, Mickey—” at the amusement park, the one they took Liam and Franny to as soon as they had enough cash to spare to do something nice for the kids, Mickey’s hackles were already up.

“What, Gallagher?” he asked, not bothering to turn from where he was grabbing napkins at the stand where Franny had absolutely decimated a foot-long hotdog two minutes past.

“I’m a little busy over here,” he added when Ian just said his name again, ignoring him to bend down and wipe Franny’s face clean of mustard and relish.

“But this looks cool!” Ian whined—there was no other word for it—and with a sigh, Mickey gave in.

“What looks cool?” he asked, turning.

And immediately regretted it when he saw Ian and Liam standing in front of a tall display covered in tick marks and animal silhouettes.

“No,” he said firmly, but Franny was already running to join them, and Liam’s eyes were bright in the way they only got lately when he learned something new, and Mickey was no match for three sets of Gallagher eyes fixed on him and pleading.

“Fucking fine,” he muttered to himself, and shoved the used napkins a little too energetically into the trash on his way over.

“The fuck am I lookin’ at?” he asked when he got there, stopping just short of the display. This close, he could see that the silhouettes were all various birds, wings spread vertically, with a little picture of a person next to them.

“It’s for this ride they’ve got,” Liam answered excitedly, and Mickey avoided looking at Ian to focus his attention on the kid.

“It’s really cool,” Liam gushed, teeth flashing as he smiled. “You stand here and figure out which bird you’d be, and the ride mimics real flight patterns!”

“Sounds nerdy as shit,” Mickey said, and Liam grinned even wider, pleased. It was good to see the kid so happy.

“Alright,” Mickey gave in immediately, “so what are you guys then?”

“I think my height is closest to the wingspan of a red-tailed hawk,” Liam said, squinting up at the display, and Mickey nodded.

“Yeah, I can see that, kid,” he agreed. “Hawks are cool as shit, too.”

“Right?” Liam said. “And Ian gets the biggest one on here, a bald eagle!”

Mickey snorted at that, finally risking a glance at his husband, who was practically beaming.

“Bald eagle, huh?” he said wryly. “Fits, I guess, what with that disaster of one you got branded on ya.”

“Hey,” Ian objected lightly, not offended at all. “That tattoo is a work of art.”

“What am I, what am I?” Franny chimed in before Mickey could respond, running up to stand with her back to the cardboard.

“Peregrine Falcon,” Liam answered her quickly, pointing out the right measurement. “That’s really cool, Franny, those things are awesome. I read some books about a—”

“And what’s Uncle Mickey?” Franny interrupted, Liam giving way to her without complaint.

Ian answered that time, before Mickey could even step up and check for himself. And as soon as Mickey heard his voice, he knew he wasn’t gonna like what was coming.

“Common peafowl,” he said, with poorly suppressed mirth. “Not quite tall enough to join me up in eagle-land, sorry Mick.”

“Fuck you I’m common,” Mickey retorted with a scowl. “And what the fuck’s a peafowl?”

“You know, like a peacock,” Liam answered, and Mickey blanched.

“Oh hell no,” he said immediately. “You all get to be badass birds of prey, and I’m a goddamn sequined turkey?”

“Sorry, Mick,” Ian apologized, with clearly faux sorrow. “Just a few more inches and you could have been a vulture or something, but…”

“Can we go on the ride now?” Liam cut in. “You guys can bicker later, but me and Fran want to go.”

“Yeah, we can go,” Mickey told him, turning his back on Ian. “Where’s the line?”

Liam pointed to a spot a little ways away, groups of kids and parents lined up outside the entrance, then bit his lip.

“Uh,” he said. “But there’s a height requirement…”

“No worries, I’ll sit it out with Fran,” Mickey offered, but Liam shook his head.

“It’s a maximum, not a minimum,” he said, and Mickey felt the muscles of his cheeks burn with how fast and hard he grinned.

“A maximum, huh?” he repeated, glancing back at Ian’s shocked face. “Let me guess,” he went on, “no bald eagles allowed?”

Liam nodded. Mickey laughed, and flipped Ian two fingers before taking Franny’s hand and leading the way.

“So you’re just gonna go without me?” Ian asked, following them.

“Serves you right, asshole,” Mickey said with a smug look back at him. “Always gettin’ on me about my height, it’s your turn.”

“You know it’s like, a kid’s ride, right?” Ian asked, gesturing at the brightly colored birds and clouds painted around the entrance.

“A kid’s ride your freakishly tall ass can’t go on,” Mickey said.

“And hey, Ian,” he added, moving with the line as Ian stood off to the side. “I’ll make sure to remind Franny later that you’re too tall to be the fun uncle!”

[foodieforthoughts]

Make it work

Summary: You knew the moment you saw the package at your door that Chris had some plans in store for you.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: 18+, RPF, naughty talks, use of toys, flirty Chris, smutty talks, implied smut

A/N: Picture drabble time! It's kind of a followup/part of Morning Ritual. I can't get enough of this man and his ASP chats are not helping.

*First gif from the link

**Other gifs from the link

Title: Make it work

As soon as his face appeared on your screen, you knew he was in a different kind of mood today. Donning his printed shirt and the white undershirt which did little to conceal his chest tattoos, Chris was all smiles and had greeted you with an excited "Hey!" with the conversation quickly turning into the most fun and energetic one you have had ever since being separated due to the pandemic.

Like everyday for the past weeks, you were on your customary video call with Chris. Only that it was a Sunday and instead of an early morning call, it was in the afternoon. You would have generally slept in through the morning, but the package delivery earlier that day had kept you awake ever since.

It was from Chris and when you had texted him to ask about it, he had written back in all caps, "Do not open it."

Your conversation was flowing smoothly when you asked him about Dodger and while he started recalling an incident that happened over the week with the pup chasing behind a squirrel in the park, you eyed the brown package sitting on your table. You waited for Chris to finish his story before you said, "You know I love Dodger and I love listening about him." You slid the box in front of you and pointed towards it, "But I have to interrupt. I am dying to know what is inside this box."

"What do you think it is?" He asked, grabbing his beer to take a sip.

You tried not to squirm when he chugged his beer while maintaining eye contact with you. You were in that phase of your cycle where your man could melt your panties even with a side glance. For a long second you couldn't look anywhere but his lips, wishing desperately that they were on yours right now.

Shaking your head and clenching your thighs shut, you looked back to the box and began tearing it open.

"At least give me a hint of what I should expect." You mumbled while trying to take the tape off the sides. You looked up at your teasing boyfriend who seemed to be enjoying your dilemma of not knowing what you had in store.

"All I can say is..." He stopped when you let out a loud gasp.

Your mouth fell open looking at the package in front of you. Inside the outer cardboard box there was black box with a pink vibrator printed on it. It was the kind that could be controlled by an app and a remote. Seeing that the plastic covering was torn, you were sure that Chris had already configured the settings with his phone.

"Chris," You began, feeling your cheeks heat up by every passing second.

"Before you feel cornered," he raised his hand to stop you from saying anything. "We don't have to try that. Anything that makes you uncomfortable is off the list."

You looked up at the screen and Chris waited patiently for your reaction. He had a smile on his face, watching you intently as you took the box out and turned it around in your hand.

You felt your face flush with warmth and your heart flutter at his words. You smiled at him, unboxing the device and taking out the curved toy in your hand. Reading over the instructions, it was supposed to be a g-spot stimulator; reading that was enough to make you wet between your thighs.

"How did you come up with this brilliant idea?" You asked, placing the box and the silicone toy on the table.

Chris laughed while running his hand over the side of his head, a nervous tick that he did when left flustered. "I was only looking over at a website for myself and then Scott walked in the room-"

"Wait-what?!" Hearing that his brother might know what kind of sexual shenanigans Chris was upto, you felt a renewed wave of blush travel up to your cheeks. Your ears heated up at the possible scenarios of them discussing which device will provide you 'maximum pleasure'.

"You know Scott is not bothered by such things right?" He asked, shrugging his shoulder. "Infact, that one was selected by him."

"Chris!" You covered your mouth with your hand, groaning but also laughing.

"He also wants feedback of how it felt, so he can recommend it to his friends." Chris clearly was having too much fun with your embarrassment as he laughed while he spoke.

"I'm not going to do that!" You protested even though you were enjoying this yourself. Very rarely Chris was in a jovial mood these days, hating the distance between you two and being holed up in his house. He also had a lot of projects lined up for which he was constantly stressed and to add up to his thoughts, he was worried about his family and your safety.

So you went with the flow of the conversation, watching him laugh and explain to you how the device works. He showed the screen of his phone which had the app open and to demonstrate he turned the vibration on. The pink toy began vibrating on the table, rattling along the surface as Chris alternated between low and high vibrations.

"Oh god." You giggled and reached towards it to make it stop. But Chris immediately turned up the strength of the vibrations and it bounced on the surface, making you shriek in response.

Chris laughed loudly. He had his pearly whites on display, squinting as he laughed with the prominent laugh lines on the edges of his eyes. He looked adorable to you and the sound of his deep laugh made your heart strings strum with it.

"You are being so naughty today!" You chuckled when your regained your composure, and quickly turned the device off.

"Yes, yes, I am." He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"I miss you so much." He titled his head to the side, a wistful look on his face. "When will I get to hold you again?"

The change in the tone of his voice ached your heart. You sighed, running your hands through your hair and finding yourself at the loss of words.

"Soon. We are still making it work though." You tried to be optimistic. You worried that one day the distance would be too much and Chris will move on to someone present physically near him. You had stayed awake many times in the night, laying in bed alone, wishing that you had never left the country for work.

"Do you worry about us?" Chris had his cheek rested on his knuckles, his eyes fixed on you through the screen.

You pushed your chair closer to the table, resting your elbows on the wooden surface. Chris imitated your movements, clasping his hands together in front of him. You instantly noticed the watch you had gifted him, the unmistakable golden body of the watch shining in the sunlight through the window. Smiling softly at your man and hating the solemn look on his face, you reassured him.

"I do worry about us, but I know we'll be okay. It's not going to affect how I feel about you, how much I love you and how much I want to be with you."

Chris sighed, finally his lips breaking out into a smile. "I love you too. I want nothing but to be with you."

You nodded at him, trying to blink the tears away. You did not want to waste a day crying over a situation that was out of your control. So you came up with a plan.

"Babe, are you alone?" You asked, picking up the bright pink toy in your hand.

Chris's eyes twinkled when he looked at your hand and how you twirled the device between your fingers. He slowly nodded, raising his eyebrow as you stood up.

"Be right back." You excused yourself and made your way to the bathroom. Washing the silicone toy before use, you striped yourself off of all your clothes and stood in your naked glory. You switched on the device and carefully inserted the toy between your silken petals, marveled at how easily it slipped inside you since you were already drenched. You blushed that Chris could have this effect on you even from many miles away.

On your way back to the computer, you took a glass of water as your throat went dry anticipating the things that would occur.

"Chri-" You wanted to sound sultry but with a jolt of vibration that hit your sweet spot with ferocity, you yelped out. Your hands jerked forward and the water spilled on the carpet and you looked wide-eyed at your boyfriend laughing on the screen.

"Oh shit!" He had his eyebrows raised in surprise as you stood with the empty glass in your hand. "I didn't know you would get water too. Sorry, sorry." He clasped his hand over his mouth, waiting for your reaction.

He might have expected you to get mad at him. But you weren't even the least bit angry. If anything, that single shock of delicious stimulation had your entire body ready for some loving. So instead, you placed the glass on the table and sat down on your chair. Bringing your arms to rest underneath your breasts, watching as Chris's eyes travelled to your hardened nubs, you smirked to yourself.

"You have to make it up to me now." You twirled a stray strand of hair around your finger and noted how Chris's stare turned into a lustful gaze. "Come on now. Strip."

"Yes ma'am." He said before peeling his shirt off his body.

[punkyflesh]

I love your fanfiction so much.. actually because of it I watched sofia the first couple of days ago and Cedric is so 😳😳 i just want to hug him and say that everything will be fine... speaking of the request for a story could you please write about how a completely-non-believing-in-magic s/o gets into their world (portal?? spell??) and they with a cedric look at each other like on mice for experiments until they slowly fall in love /i used google translate so sorry for mistakes/

AAAAA that literally made my day when i first saw it, i'm honoured to have encouraged you to watch the show & i'm glad you enjoyed it!

i’m going to make a part two for this fiction as it’ll be very long otherwise

don't apologise for the mistakes - as far as i'm aware, you're asking for the reader to be transported to enchancia who doesn't believe in magic, and cedric sees this as a good opportunity to use them for experiments blah blah love. let me know if i'm wrong about that, but enjoy!

TW: strong language used (swearing)

cedric x reader who doesn't believe in magic | oneshot - part one

"I'm just not convinced that this 'spell' of yours is going to work. You know I don't believe in that sort of crap." You said, shaking your head and folding your arms sternly. Your best friend had been trying to persuade you to try out a new teleportation spell they'd found online for many weeks now - according to the website, the spell would teleport you to a kingdom of magical opportunities and unique people - you simply did not believe the bullshit that came from a domain with a warning on the page.

It had taken a few weeks in order to gather all the equipment needed, and it amused you that your best friend was so easily swayed. You on the other hand? Well, let's just say you were only playing along to prove yourself right. As your friend finished up the alignment in which the equipment was supposed to be, they gestured for you to stand in the centre whilst they got the torn-up paper with the 'magic words' scribbled on messily. With a huff, you hesitantly stepped into the circle that had weird letters around it, glitter from the local craft place in town, and burning sage. "Alright! Are you ready to be transported to a place beyond your wildest dreams?!" Your friend exclaimed, holding onto the piece of paper excitedly and jumping up and down. Although you didn't believe that it was going to work, seeing your friend so excited ignited a sense of warmness in your heart. With a small smile, you nodded.

From then on, your hearing began to turn hazy. You could briefly hear the chanting of your friend, reading from the scrawny piece of paper, but could also hear a new ringing that was getting increasingly louder. You tried to shout out, tried to get your friend to stop and explain how you suddenly thought that this was a bad idea, but you could not hear any words escaping from your mouth. Your stomach began to churn as a bright, white light made you squint. You felt as though you were falling through a lifeless void before you hit a hard surface, your eyes still tightly sealed shut.

What the hell was that? You opened your eyes slowly to find that you were in fact laying down as if you had just got thrown against the surface of something hard. Your body felt numb. On the floor below you, you realised that you were laying upon a red carpet - you don't recall owning one, but then soon saw that the carpet was the length as one of the red carpets you'd see at a movie premiere. Using all your strength to lift up your head enough to support itself, you gazed down what seemed to be a long hallway with intricate designs and paintings decorating the walls. The ceiling was high. You couldn't tell if you were still tripping out or if this was reality but managed to gain more strength to push yourself up even further, looking around your surroundings and taking in the change of scenary. This definitely was not the dingy basement you were in 5 minutes ago. This was something a lot more elegant, posh - almost like the interior of a castle.

All of a sudden, the area you were sitting in was overcast by a shadow, a silhouette of someone. You turned your head expecting to see your friend, but instead saw the long legs of someone unfamiliar to you. They were quite tall and was wearing a long, plum-coloured robe that was tied into a neat knot above their abdomen. You gulped unconsciously and continued to raise your head until you saw the figure fully. They were looming over you, folding their arms into the sleeves of their robe and raising their eyebrow. The look on his face looked stern, but not confused or angry - more of a resting face. The figure had quite noticeable eye bags underneath his hazel eyes and a unique colouration to his hair - he had silvery-white bangs that heavily contrasted the darkness of his natural shade.

You found yourself staring at this odd hair colour before you heard him clear his throat, snapping you out of your trance and jumping slightly. "I uh.." You began, trying to pull yourself to your feet but achieving nothing in the process. The teleportation - or whatever nonsense had just happened, you were too confused to think about it - had obviously left you quite weak. "No need to explain. I'm already aware of your circumstances." The man spoke, cutting you off from what you were trying to explain. You stopped and gave the man a confused look - what did he mean he already knew the circumstances? If you were teleported...was he already aware of that? Hesitantly, you saw him offer you a hand. "It seems as though you've had quite a fall. Here." You looked to his hand - he was wearing black, fingerless gloves that were well fit against his slender fingers - and snuffled a laugh. A bold fashion choice.

Questioningly, you took the mans hand and he pulled you up onto your feet until you were able to look him in the eyes. Finally being able to share the same gaze as him set off a sudden spark in your body that ran from your heart to the hand in which was still interlocked with his own. You felt your heart begin to pound in your chest as you held onto him, not being able to take your eyes away. The same eyes that were looking down at you coldly seemed a lot softer now, gentle even. It was as if the whole world stopped. The figure stared at you for a moment longer, before clearing his throat for the second time and turning his head away, retracting his hand from yours and then offering you a small smile. “You must be my new apprentice. Marvellous to finally meet you.”

“I’m sorry, apprentice?” You questioned, your voice raspy and small. What did he mean apprentice? Apprentice for what? He raised his eyebrow at you once more and stifled a laugh. “Yes? Is there a problem?”

“I’m sorry, but you must be confused. I don’t even know who you are.”

The man looked taken back from your words, judging by the way his face transformed, you seemed to have offended him slightly. “Excuse me? I am Cedric the Sensational! Royal sorcerer of the Kingdom of Enchancia! I’ve saved a few people before and…”

Listening to the man drain on about his successes, you laughed, this time not holding it back. Your laugh caused him to stop talking and stare at you, as you shook your head and brushed off your clothes. “Sorcerer? Sorry pal, but I don’t believe in magic. Try fooling someone else with that story, because it sure ain’t gonna be me.”

Cedric listened to you as you laughed, freezing as he processed. You didn’t believe in magic, yet you had randomly appeared in the middle of the castle, dressed in clothes that’ll surely take you to the dungeon out of the blue? It just didn’t make any sense - unless…

He smirked. It had worked, his spell that he had sent out had actually worked! It was time for him to use this to his own advantage.

He was gonna have fun with his new little experiment.

[thatboymikey]

In defense of Diane Nguyen

Hello, again I’m really glad some of y’all liked my Beatrice horseman defense post so I wanted to Diane. She is a complex character with a rough past so I hope you enjoy this one :)

Diane Nguyen was born into a very toxic family her parents and brothers often dismissed her and treated her like trash all because she was smarter and not interested in the same things they were. The only time we see her family is in season 1 where she visits them because her dad passed away. We soon find out her family is abusive and thinks very little of her. One of the ways they manipulated her was the “cryane” video where in her teenage years they pranked her to make her believe there was a boy interested in her but in reality her family paid a homeless man to play the role of this boy in love with her and taking her to prom. Diane cries and in the video they laugh at her as if it was a joke even though they knew it was harmful to her. For context they show this video to Bojack and he laughs along which had to hurt Diane. More about her family they never acknowledged their Vietnamese culture they simply stated that they were from Boston when asked even when Diane wanted to know more about her culture they shut her down. Now on to Mr.Peanut butter her and Mr.Peanut butter and Diane started dating at the beginning of the show to later only get married but the only reason he proposed to her was to apologize to her after she negatively reacted to him stealing the Hollywood D for her. She said yes but for years they were unhappy and in the words of Diane “our marriage is like a magic eye poster, it’s messy and at first glance it doesn’t make any sense and it’s hard to figure out. But sometimes when you squint at it just right everything lines up and it’t the most perfect beautiful amazing thing but… I’m so tired of squinting” This was her analogy for how she felt for years. Mr.Peanut butter put her through the same abuse her family did she just didn’t realize it at the time. Mr. Peanut butter did things she didn’t like he didn’t want her to go to Cordovia even though it was her choice. He also always threw big parties and did grand gestures to her despite her insisting she doesn’t like it and in the end of season 4 the thing that pushed her over the edge was when designing their new house he made her childhood dream Belle room from Beauty and the beast. She didn’t want this it was her childhood dream not something she wanted to become a reality. In the same scene is where she admits she wants a divorce. At a party before the divorce papers get signed Diane sees Mr.Peanut butter with his new girlfriend Pickles this is what makes the divorce really sink in for her it breaks her more than she already was. Diane decides to go to Vietnam in order to “find herself” that doesn’t work and she ends up having more of an excistenal crisis. She comes back and realizes she isn’t happy but she doesn’t change a lot of things in her life and what made it worse was Bojack left for Michigan and left her alone. He was the only person she had left at the moment and she left him we don’t really get to see how that affected. I’m sure she was hurting at that time and she had no real friends to talk to because they left her so she was alone.

In a couple years while working at the same company she meets a fellow co-worker named Guy. They would travel around the world filming different things for the website. Diane realizes she likes Guy and he likes her to so they start dating. She moves to Chicago with him and eventually Huston Texas when they get married. Guy was a way better boyfriend/husband than Mr. Peanut butter he cared for her told her that everything will be alright he encouraged her. At the time Diane was depressed but after Guy made her realize taking anti depressants wasn’t a bad thing she started taking them and ultimately becomes happy. A thing I love about the show is that when Diane gains weight from her medication they don’t make a big deal out of it they treat her as if nothing happened. In the last episode we see her a Bojack sitting on the roof just like the used to and Diane brings up the fact that Bojack left her a voice message right before he almost died in his pool. She was angry but still forgave him despite what he’s done to her.

Diane is an extremely vulnerable character although she tries to be strong it’s hard for her especially knowing her past she is a victim and people shouldn’t blame her for the things she did because most of the time it was someone else’s fault not her’s. Diane is an extremely well written character and is so deep I love how she stands up for what she believes she deserved way better than what she got.

[wavesmp3]

wait are you still doing the fake title thing-

skdkdj if so,,

‘tell me‘ 😼👌

tell me | eric x reader | an unintentional continuation to this drabble | a/n: i tried to make it so that this could be read as a stand alone but i’m not too sure if i was successful in that | requests closed

1. letters

“so,” eric says, setting down two drinks and a plate of snacks next to the dirt-covered shoebox that was buried somewhere in a park just this morning, “where do we start?”

the first thing you pull out from the time capsule are two envelopes. eric immediately knows what it is. 

you shake your head. “not with these.” the letters were written to each other when you made the time capsule in the summer before your freshman year of college. “let’s look at these last.”

eric is more than happy to oblige. 

2. totally awesome no skip summer mix 2011

“oh my god,” you mutter, pulling out the next item in the box. 

“what is it?”

you hold up the old, dusty cd for him to see. “remember this?”

he does. 

he remembers sitting in front of your family’s old computer and carefully selecting which pop songs from that summer to add to the cd. he remembers feeling entirely like a criminal while you found the best website to download the songs and then also how quickly the lawless feeling escaped from him after the act was done. he remembers burning the cd that afternoon. he remembers the entire summer he spent listening to the cd with you. 

“no one even uses cds anymore.” you say with a bit of a laugh. “should we listen to it?” 

eric nods, and the two of you spend the next 20 minutes looking for a way to play it. 

10. baseball jersey

eric pulls out the jersey five songs into the cd mix. “gosh, this takes me back.” the jersey was from when he was young an old jersey you and him decorated together when he switched to a new team. 

you make a face of disgust, pointing to a questionable drawing done around the neckline of the jersey. “who did that?”

“you, probably.”

“no way.”

“look. you even signed it.”

you squint your eyes at the drawing for a long moment. “damn.”

eric just laughs

15. picture from the beach trip

eric is the one who fishes the picture out. the picture which made you dig up the box to begin with. you see it between his hand, before he can tell you he found it. neither of you say anything. you both just stare at the picture, silently. your smiles are big and bright, with the sun casting down over your faces and ocean in the background. you look happy in it. eric does too. he turns away from the picture and stares at you, wondering where did it all go wrong?

23. big fish program

“look at this.” you say pulling out the crumpled program from your high school’s production of big fish. “i forgot i was even in the show.”

“you know how daffodils are a big part of the show?” eric says and you nod, flipping through the program. “i remember spending so long at the show trying to find daffodils for you.”

“but you gave me roses that night.” you say, tossing the program aside.

“yeah. i couldn’t find any.”

“well,” you murmur with a smile falling off your lips, “at least you tried.”

27. birthday card 

“what’s this?” eric mutters pulling out a card that looks new. or at least new in comparison to everything else in the box. 

“what did you-” you freeze when you see the card eric’s holding up. “not that.” you blurt reaching over to grab it from him. eric pulls it out of your reach. you reach for it again, and eric evades you grabbing it as well. it goes on like that for a minute before you finally give up. 

“what is it?” eric asks again, laughing at how hard you’re trying to get it away from him. 

you don’t mirror the laugh. instead you sigh, eyes turning dark. “a year ago, i dug up the time capsule and added that.”

“a year ago.” eric echoes, brows knitting together. “but by then we were...”

“we were broken up.” you finish, shamefully almost. “i wrote it on your birthday. and i don’t even know why i bothered adding it to the box, but i was just so upset at the time. i hadn’t seen you in forever, and i was just so angry at you. at me. at us.”

“i take it it’s not a nice birthday card then.”

“please don’t read it.” you reach for the card again. and this time eric doesn’t stop you from grabbing it. “i don’t mean any of that stuff anymore.”

“but you did?”

“i don’t... i was upset.”

“you were right to end things between us.” eric says then. “it was the best thing for us.”

you’re quiet. then after a long moment, you say, “it was the best thing for us then.”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean,” you frown, folding and unfolding a corner of the card, “don’t you think there’s a way we could make it work again?”

32. letters

 the box is empty now. the only thing left to look at is the letters from the beginning. “here.” you say quietly, handing the one you wrote to him. he hands you his. 

dear eric, i know the letters were my idea but this feels so lame LOL. good luck in college, but i wish we were going to the same one :( thanks for all the laughs and good times. i’m happiest with you.   - love, your bestie (sorry this is so short. i have no idea what to say. i’ve been sitting here and pretending to write since you havent stopped yet) (OMG eric stop writing!!)  (you just pulled out a second sheet of paper. rip. you’re gonna be so disappointed when you read this)

eric finishes the letter, remembering how much thought and care he put into writing his, and how long it ended up being. and that whole time, this was all you had written, the realization only makes him laugh. 

he looks up at you still reading his two page letter. he watches as your eyes skim the page. as you get teary eyed reading it. as you finish, folding the letter back up and saying, “eric i--”

“let’s do it.” 

“what?”

“let’s try again.”

[candy-and-writing]

Mr. Brightside

Request by @mmmmm-11​: Can I request a Cap fic in which he's pretty cold to the reader because he really doesn't know how to process his feelings and there is some jealously their in feeling both sides and then the smut 😅🤩

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, oral sex, fingering, jealous! Steve, Steve is low-key a dick

A/n: so this took way longer than I meant it to and it's also a lot longer than anticipated. Thank you so much for requesting this!! I had so much fun writing this piece

I am NOT responsible for your media content consumption. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and/or dark themes. By reading this work you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work posted on any third party app or website; if you are seeing this work anywhere other than tumblr and archiveofourown, it has been reposted without my permission.

Steve was silent as you sat in the back of the quinjet, your forehead bloody and uniform pulled down to your torso as Bruce tended to the bullet hole gaping in your shoulder. His shoulders were tense, his features drawn into a scowl as he glared at you, stewing in his own anger.

You knew you fucked up, if the blood seeping out of your shoulder and the burning building you barely escaped was any confirmation. Steve huffed, his hands slamming down on the table placed in the middle of the jet.

You had grown used to this—the sudden flip of his mood with you. Ever since you first joined, he was cold and angry with you. It didn't matter if all you did was try to make him happy, there was always something you did that made him annoyed with you. You had learned long ago how to hold yourself up against the angry super-soldier.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Steve suddenly shouted at you, his loud tone sending a dull throb through your temples. "I gave you an order, you could've blown the mission!"

"I was going after Strucker," you groaned, wincing as Bruce pressed a rag against your wound. "I didn't see the detonator. I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' isn't gonna cut it, Y/n. You compromised the mission. You're lucky I cut him off or else you'd in a lot more trouble."

"I get it, Cap, I do, but can we talk about this later. . . when I'm not bleeding out?" Your vision was blurring and your body was feeling alarmingly numb.

"No, we're gonna talk about this now."

"Steve," Bruce cut in, "I think Y/n is right. Maybe we can talk about this when she feels better?"

Steve's jaw clenched. He was quiet for a moment, and you were worried he was going to explode on you again. He looked over his shoulder, where the rest of the team was watching, and sighed. "Fine."

You let out a breath as he walked to the front of the jet. You leaned back, resting your head on the wall as you closed your eyes.

-

You left Bruce's lab an hour after you landed, your bullet wound all but healed and given painkillers for your concussion. You were still a little dizzy as you wobbled back to your room when you ran into Steve. He was wearing a slim workout shirt that looked two sizes too small and dark sweatpants, probably heading to the gym. You straightened your shoulders, bracing yourself. He looked you over, scowling before he pushed past you.

You stood there for a moment, shocked he hadn't started screaming at you the second he saw you. You blinked, jogging after him. "Steve, wait!"

He stopped, looking down at you as you stood in front of him. You let out a breath, your world spinning.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I should've listened to you. I should've waited for backup and I didn't and it almost cost us Strucker. I'm sorry."

Steve didn't say anything. He looked at you, irritation gnawing at his features. He mumbled out a small, "It's fine," before turning away.

You bit the inside of your cheek to distract you from the pang in your chest. You should be used to it by now—his aloofness. That didn't mean it still didn't sting, though.

You had no idea what you did to make Captain America hate you. Hell, you didn't think he had the capability to hate anyone. When you first joined the team, scared and defensive, you were just there to follow orders—because Fury had not-so-subtly given you an ultimatum that threatened your life. You were good at what you did, you were good at following orders. You stood in the background and did what people told you to do. Being a HYDRA pawn will do that to you.

But then people opened up to you. Bucky was the first one—being the former Winter Soldier, he knew what it was like to have your life taken away by HYDRA. And for some reason, he trusted you, even if you hadn't spoken a word to him. Natasha and Clint were next, then Tony, and soon the whole team treated you like you were apart of their family. But Steve didn't. You'd been with the team for months, and you were no closer to him than you were to that automatic corkscrew in the kitchen that you could never get to work.

You showered, changed, and sat on your bed for exactly twenty seconds before you realized you were done. If Steve wasn't going to tell you what his problem was, maybe someone else could.

You walked into the lounge area, finding Bucky and Sam squabbling over the remote.

"C'mon, man," Sam argued. "I got a recorded episode of the Voice that is callin' my name!"

"Watch it in your room, Wilson. The Great British Baking Show is on and I'm already watching it."

You smirked to yourself, moving to stand in front of them until one of them finally noticed you. It was your best tactic with the two of them, waiting patiently until they were done with. . . whatever they were doing. You rested your hands at your sides, eyebrow quirking when Sam called Bucky's hair 'greasy', which highly offended Bucky.

Bucky had just pulled the remote out of Sam's hands when he finally saw you. "Oh, hey, doll. How long ya' been standing there?"

You shrugged. "Not important. . . can I talk to you?"

Bucky kicked Sam out of the lounge area, who dragged himself out of the room mumbling to himself about his show. You sat down beside Bucky, crossing your legs and folding your hands in your lap.

"So," Bucky ran a hand through his hair, " what did you want to talk about?"

You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment, looking down at your hands as you asked the question that had been haunting you since you arrived at the Compound. "Why does Steve hate me?"

Bucky blinked, then started chuckling. You frowned.

"What?"

"You think—" he paused, sucking in a breath. "Well, I don't blame you. He hasn't exactly been kind to you, has he?"

You scoffed. "No, he hasn't. Did I do something? Is. . . is it because of what I used to do—you know—before this?"

"No, doll, it's not that. Trust me."

You weren't convinced. "Are you sure? Because—"

"Trust me, Y/n, I'm sure." Bucky smiled at you. A teasing smile, like he knew something you didn't.

"Well, can you tell me what's going on, then?" you sighed. "Because I'm getting a little tired of the cold shoulder."

Bucky pursed his lips, his eyes squinting slightly like he was thinking. You stared at him, waiting for his answer.

"You know the party Tony's throwing tomorrow?" Bucky said suddenly.

You frowned, not seeing what that had to do with the conversation. "Yeah. . . ?"

"All you have to do is show up. And wear something cute."

You raised an eyebrow, a smile breaking your lips amidst your confusion. "Don't I always, Soldat?"

--

You had managed to avoid Steve's austere glare until the party. You knew he would be there for professional appearances, being Captain America and all.

You had shuffled the dress up your body—the silky black fabric tickling your thigh. You stood in front of your mirror, back facing the glass as you struggled to turn your head at the right angle and tie the criss-cross strings racing down your back. This dress had been Natasha's, but had grown too small for her, so she gave it to you. She and Wanda did that with many of their clothes, seeing as how when you showed up at the Compound you had half a duffel bag of clothes to your name—all of which you'd stolen from different shops.

You had opted to leave your hair down, letting your locks fall past your shoulders in loose curls. You did your makeup in record time, finishing the look off with a red velvet lipstick.

Dragging your hair over one shoulder, you clipped the pearl choker necklace Tony had given you for Christmas around your neck, letting it rest on your collar. You weren't expecting anything from anyone for Christmas—you'd never even celebrated Christmas before coming onto the team. Tony's gifts were personal, whether they be deep and meaningful or jokingly hilarious. As he handed you a long, thin box, he had apologized—you were so quiet and reclusive he wasn't sure what you wanted, so he bought you this necklace. That was the first time you hugged Tony.

Slipping on a pair of sleek black heels, you looked yourself over in the mirror once more before leaving your room. You could hear the commotion of the party from your area of the living quarters, music echoing off the walls and people dressed in button-down shirts and fancy dresses.

As you stepped down the stairs, your eyes fell on Bucky, who was playing pool with Steve and Sam. Steve was smiling, laughing at something Sam had said as he sunk the ball into the corner pocket. You smiled to yourself, ignoring the pang of jealousy you felt in your chest. Why couldn't he smile like that at you?

Bucky had noticed you descending the stairs, perking up. He said something to Steve, walking off towards you. Steve frowned, his gaze following Bucky's path when his eyes landed on you. His shoulders stiffened and he shifted on his feet as looked back at Sam. You met Bucky in the middle of the room, giving him a small smile.

"Damn, doll," Bucky smirked. "You look good." You chuckled, cheeks heating up.

"Well," you looked down at your dress, "you said to wear something cute. What exactly do you have planned?"

"You'll see." He laughed at the scowl you gave him. He grabbed two cocktails from a wandering server, handing one to you. "Here—have a drink and come join us."

"Oh, no, I shouldn't. Steve looks like he's enjoying himself and. . . I'd hate to ruin his good mood." Your gaze turned sad without you even realized. Bucky wanted to smack Steve upside the head all over again—he was hurting you, alienating you and all you were trying to do was be a part of the team.

"You won't, trust me. Please? Sam keeps bragging about being the best pool player of his squadron and I'm having a hard time not punching him in his big mouth. It'd be nice to have someone around who isn't on their high-horse."

You giggled, struggling to take a sip of your drink. "Fine, but he starts chastising me, I'm out."

You followed Bucky back to the pool table, Steve glaring daggers at you and Bucky as the soldier picked up his cue stick.

-

You weren't sure how long you watched the boys play pool, but four drinks later you were tipsy and almost oblivious to Steve's lingering stare. Bucky knocked the eight ball into a corner pocket, yelling out a shout of victory as he won the game. Sam rolled his eyes.

Someone stood beside you and cleared their throat, prompting you to turn your head. Thor stood next to you, his hair pulled away from his face and donning a long red coat and dark wash jeans.

"Lady Y/n." He smiled at you, holding his hand out as you blushed. You always blushed when he called you that. "Would you care for a dance?"

"Uh—" You looked over at Bucky, who was smirking. He tilted his head, motioning for you to go. Your eyes wandered up at Steve, who looked like he was about ready to throttle Thor. He really did hate the idea of his team socializing with you. Smiling to yourself, you looked back at Thor. "Actually, I'd love to."

You walked off with Thor, stopping just before you left their line of sight. It was petty, what you were doing—using Thor to deliberately piss off your Captain. But he didn't leave you much of a choice. Thor rested his hand on your waist, his large fingers brushing against your bare back. You shivered, putting your hand on his shoulder. He held your other hand as you two swayed to the music.

"You look lovely tonight, Y/n," Thor said, looking down at you through his eyelashes. You thought your cheeks were warm from the alcohol, but after that comment, your face was burning. You were sure your cheeks were a bright red.

"Th-thank you," you stuttered. You cleared your throat. "You. . . uh—you look nice, too. I like your jacket."

Thor chuckled. "You do not have to be so nervous, Y/n. It is only a dance."

"Yeah, well, I've never really danced before. . . like actually danced. I've danced for missions before, but things never really ended well for my partner."

"Well, I do hope things end better for me."

You giggled. "Well, I haven't been hired to kill you, so I think you're good." You nervously laughed at your joke, hoping it wasn't as awkward as you thought it was.

You danced with Thor until he invited to get a drink with him. You sat at the bar, nursing a cocktail Natasha made for you while Thor was telling you about the time he battled a pack of trolls in the mountains of Svartalfheim.

When the party was over, you were still talking to Thor. You thanked him for dancing with you, making sure to tell Bucky goodnight. You walked up the staircase, heading toward your room when you stopped. Steve stood in front of your door, arms crossed and frowning.

"Steve?" He turned his head, meeting your confused gaze. "Can I. . . can I help you with something?"

"We need to talk," he said curtly.

"O-Okay." You were overtly aware of the click of your heels as you opened your door for him, letting him enter your room. You carefully let the door slide closed behind you, staring at Steve. "Do you want anything to drink? I can get you a glass of water? Or I think I still have some beer Bucky left in the fridge?"

That had been the wrong thing to say. You watched his eyes darken, lips curling into a snarl as he shoved you up against your wall. His grip on your biceps was borderline painful, his nose inches from yours and you could feel his hot breath fanning your face.

"Don't talk about Bucky. Not now."

You swallowed thickly, Steve watching the line of your throat. "Okay, I won't. I'm sorry."

You fell silent, stuck staring at Steve's features. The barely-there green in his eyes, the crease of his eyebrows, the lines of his frown, his lips. You didn't realize he was doing the same to you until his breathing calmed. You licked your lips nervously, Steve staring at the dart of your tongue. And then his lips were on yours.

You stood frozen—shocked—for only a moment before closing your eyes and moving your lips against his. He let go of your arms, letting you wrap them around his neck and pulling him closer, moaning into his mouth. His tongue darted into your mouth, kissing you like you've never been kissed until you were breathless and had to pull away.

Your lips were red and swollen, eyes closed as you rested your hands on Steve's chest, playing with a button on his shirt.

"Steve—"

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, voice husky. "I'm sorry I've been so mean to you. I just—I didn't know how to deal with my feelings about you."

"Shut up," you breathed. "And kiss me."

His lips crashed onto yours again, his hands on your hips as he pulled you closer into his body. The kiss was needy and possessive, the intensity of it almost frightening, the raw need and hunger behind his actions overwhelming you.

His mouth moved down your jaw, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck. You fumbled behind you, undoing your dress and letting it pool at your feet. He picked you up effortlessly and you wrapped your legs around his narrow waist, hands cupping his face. He tossed you down on your bed, ripping open his blue button-down and throwing it on the floor. He pulled the white undershirt over his head, dropping it with his shirt while you kicked off your heels.

He crawled up the bed, hovering over you as he leaned down to kiss you. Just a quick peck before he moved to kiss your collar bone, his hands roaming up your thighs. One hand reached under you and you arched your back, letting him unclip your bra and slide the straps off your shoulders. He kissed along the skin he exposed, pulling the fabric down past your breasts.

He mouthed at the soft swell of your chest, sucking a red mark into your skin. He pinched your nipple lightly, rolling it between his forefinger and thumb and you jumped, arching your back. You inhaled a sharp, shaky breath when Steve popped a nipple into his mouth, his tongue lapping over the bud and swirling it around.

He continued to work down your body, kissing lower and lower and sucking marks into your skin at random intervals. He sucked a bruise in the divot between your ribs, one above your belly button, and one just above your underwear. As he peeled your lace panties off your legs and dropped them on the floor, he kissed back up your leg, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your thigh.

You were panting, squirming as his lips met just shy of where you needed them most. You almost screamed when his tongue finally connected with your little bud. He used the tip of his tongue first, just circling your clit as you whined, his thick finger slipping into your center. He pumped his finger in and out of you leisurely, suckling at your bundle of nerves before he quickly added a second finger.

You continued this until you were right on the precipice of orgasm, and when his fingers curled and brushed against that spot inside of you, your moan broke in your throat. The taut rubber band in your stomach snapped, muscles spasming as your head fell back against your pillows, Steve licking up your mess.

Steve moved up your body and kissed you, your release coating his face and you could taste yourself on his tongue. His hands went to your hips and he suddenly flipped you so you were straddling his thighs. You deepened the kiss, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks as Steve adjusted his length to meet your center, letting you slide onto him at your own pace.

He was large. Thick and long and your tight heat clutched around him in a marvelous way and he wasn't even halfway in. Steve had broken the kiss, leaning back and his eyes fluttering shut as he marveled in the feel of you clutching him like a vice.

"Shit, sweetheart," he panted. "You feel so good."

You bottomed out, letting yourself adjust to his size before you rocked forward. You both moaned. Your clit rubbed against his pelvis as you rolled your hips harder, your hands falling to his chest for stability. His hands rested on your waist, letting you move as you desired.

"St—Steve," you whimpered, picking up your pace. The tip of his length hit a certain spot inside you and you gasped, your nails digging into his skin, his body moving in tandem with yours.

You were unbelievably close. Steve hugged you close to his chest, his lips meeting your breast as he mouthed at your nipple, groaning as he ran his hands up and down your sides. He worked his way up your neck, sucking your sensitive skin as he thrust his hips up into you and that was all it took before you were coming. You cried out his name, gasping and whimpering as your head fell into the crook of his neck.

"Fuck!" Steve groaned, thrusting several more times as your walls hugged him and he stiffened inside you, throwing his head back as he growled, his cock pulsating as he came.

Panting, he carefully laid you next to him, admiring your blissed-out gaze as he pulled your blankets over the two of you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You smiled at him, your lipstick smeared as you opened your eyes.

"So I guess this is what Bucky was talking about?" you asked, mostly to yourself.

"What do you mean?"

"I talk to Bucky yesterday after I ran into you, I thought he might know what was going on with you. He just kinda laughed at me and told me you didn't hate me. . . . Did he know? About how you felt?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, he did."

You chewed on your lip in thought. "He said he had a plan. That during the party—oh m.y God."

"What?"

"Thor. Thor was the plan." You looked up at Steve. "Bucky knew you would get jealous so he asked Thor to dance with me."

Steve laughed. "In my defense, Thor was getting way too handsy."

You giggled. "Remind me to make Bucky some cookies tomorrow."

Steve rolled over you, caging you in his arms as he grinned down at you. Your eyebrow arched playfully. He bent down and kissed you, your hands coming up to run along his pecs. He pulled away, his smile sparkling even in the darkness of your room. You swooned, knowing that his smile was something you would never tire of seeing.

"Sleep," Steve told you. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?"

"I promise."