#sorry my brain fizzled out

[thestarkster1465]

Haven't been following the James Somerton drama closely but it's become so ridiculous that it's funny

Is no one going to talk about the fact that he said that he thought it was okay for him to mention Vito Russo in the opening credits and then never mention him again because his book was out of print and Russo was dead....

And then in the same breath say that he was 'extending Russo's legacy' like my brother in Christ do you even hear yourself-

[spring-lxcked]

as much as i'd like to do a starter call for the new verse i literally. still have starters in the drafts from last time (y i k e s sorry) and i just can't trust myself to actually do starters in a timely manner SO. if anybody wants to write in that verse, i'm gonna rb some asks at some point tonight. feel free to send something in (clarify if you want that verse tho obv) if you'd like!!

[corktreedemos]

and god knows crying ain't gonna change a thing / she said take care, but i take more than i bring / she said "it just feels inhumane to lose this much" / cause when you leave you know you takе more than your love

let all my red flags fade to white, yeah, i give up / don't let me leave, i'll only take more than i gave / okay, i'll pack my stuff / here at the end of days, my god, what have i done? / christ, now it feels damn inhumane to get all i've dreamed of

cicada days is such a q!slimecicle song to me i can not stop thinking about it like. ARE YOU SEEING THIS?

[woolspun]

     something something soft little sheep lady extremely cute wholesome 100 keanu reeves new guy big chungus epic le reddit moment xd. OKAY ANYWAYS -- so what we got here is a one-of-a-kind MY HERO ACADEMIA / BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA original character with the moniker of THE SOFT HERO: TOUGH FLUFF. do me ( and the world ) a favor by hittin’ that funky fresh REBLOG button or maybe even the LIKE button if you’d be interested in interacting.. or for me to tell you that you are EXTREMELY BIG-BRAINED ( 300 IQ moment ) !

[dsmpkinfessions]

hullo my ask got tagged w wilbur kin and im vvv confused??? its. its the surname right. oh man im stealing big q's last name im taking it for myself why was i diagnosed with wilbur fjdjshfjssjfs

my surname.................... causer of all problems.

could someone pls fix the tag? im. not comfortable being confused for wil :[

-☕️🍇 Fundy Soot (??? HQ??? is that better????)

HI IM SORRY IM AWFUL AT READING ILL FIX THAT - Mod Tubbo

[fleshliight]

grinding my needy cunt into their thigh nd them pulling my hair and shoving my face into their armpit so i cum. i HUAVE cobid

[horrorartsworld]

revenge is sweet pt. 2

lucifer/demon f!reader

a/n: for all the babies that wanted a part two!!

warnings: rough sex if you squint, lucifer being possessive because he can, daddy kink, slapping, spanking, brat taming, not proofread 😵‍💫

here’s part one if you missed it!!

(little recap:)

"HE DID WHAT?!"

Rubbing the back of your arm sheepishly as you stood there watching Lucifer's eyes turn red as his demon form became more prominent, teeth snarling as he came closer to you. "Well... hehe...we'll just have to fix that, won't we my love?" danger laced in his voice as he closed the space between you two.

"I'm fucked."

In all your years of knowing him you’ve never seen him this upset to the point he seemed as if he was loosing it. Loosing it at the thought that little shit for brains actually one upped him, let alone with his own wife. IN HIS OWN WIFE IN FACT.

“Oh you have no idea…” he spoke threateningly with a hidden promise you knew all too well. However, your fiery attitude from earlier never died down, so you weren’t gonna back down without a proper fight.

“Are you really surprised though? You’ve been away for weeks, practically months without even trying to see me, let alone be with me, your wife!” you finally snap thinking back at why this all happened in the first place. Lucifer only scowled at the thought, narrowing his red eyes at you.

“Doesn’t mean you can run around and be an unfaithful whore” he says in an unsettlingly calm tone making that fire you thought you had just now fizzle out within an instant, causing you to shift uncomfortably in front of him.

“Still…you fucking left me Luci…and you know how i get when i’m alone and you didn’t even bother to call me,” you cross your arms over your chest looking away from him and out the window to the streets of hell as it seemed more wild around this time of night.

He runs a hand through his hair, laughing to himself in visible frustration but he still tried to tone it down while he looked you over. “Listen…” he said sternly yet still keeping this calm persona, his voice the only thing echoing in your ears. “Whatever you say or do from this point forward will have consequences to your actions, so i suggest you be a good girl and stop spouting nonsense to get you out of what’s about to happen.” you genuinely couldn’t believe what you’re hearing, facing him once more, your brattiness on full defense mode as you persisted on letting him hear your side.

“And why should i listen to you? It’s not like you’re bothering to listen to what i have to say right now.” you spat, the corner of your mouth twitching up in a snarl. Simply chuckling, Lucifer’s hand found it’s way into your hair with an unsuspecting tight grip, fist unforgiving as you were yanked down to your knees.

“Now is that any way to talk to your overlord sweetheart?”

You yelped softly as your knees burned with the sudden contact they just had with the floor, the unmissable low tone of his dominance causing your nerves to spiral.

“Hm?” He probed, hand pulling your hair even more taught as he pulled you closer to his clothed crotch, your cheek coming into contact with his hard-on while he rutted against it making your throat run dry.

You felt like you were having an out of body experience, this kind of intimidation and authority coming from Lucifer wasn’t like him and it seemed as though it was having quite the effect on you.

“Speak. Now.” he reprimanded, using his hold on your hair to crane your neck back to look up at him in all his glory.

“Mm- I’m sorry..” your voice coming out more pitiful and meek then you hoped, opposite of your heated speech from earlier.

Holding your breath you watched a sinister smile crept onto your husband’s face causing your heart to drop to your ass, quivering uneasily in his hold he nods gesturing to his hard-on strained so eagerly now against his nice dress pants.

“Oh i know baby, but you gotta prove it” his hand slipping out from your hair, but his hold on you was still evident even though it wasn’t physical anymore.

His sinister smile very much still plastered on his snake like mouth, watching as you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull his lower half towards your face. You undo his belt with much delicacy, watching the straining fabric as it came into view, your once dry mouth watering instantly.

You pull out his hardened cock, the tip flushed red, angry and spewing precum, kitten licking it and then giving a light kiss to the tip just to sweeten him up a bit.

Lucifer not being able to hold in his reactions as he shivers, letting out tiny puffs of air as he watches you carefully kiss down his shaft. And after a while of you prolonging it he grabs your hair once more, pulling you back from his cock.

"That’s enough.." he grumbles, when you desperately try to put your mouth back on it again. "You had enough time to make this about you, this about me now. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

Brows furrowing in confusion while you try not to pout, you lean back on your heels doing just as he says with your mouth open and waiting. Your lashes batting up at him as you watch him tower over you, putting his legs on either side of your thighs while holding his length directly in front of mouth stroking himself up and down.

Small breathy moans escape his lips as his head is then thrown back with his lip caught between his teeth. You wanted nothing more than to have this picture burned in the back of your brain as he looked so beautiful.

He curses under his breath practically thinking the same thing as you, seeing you sitting there so obediently and drooling for his seed.

“Hungry for daddies cum aren’t you?” slapping his tip against your tongue, you nod eagerly feeling him start to tease it into your mouth.

A hand wrapping around it instinctively helping him get closer, pumping him and moving your head in a bobbing motion causing him to growl above you.

He then without warning thrusts deep hitting the back of your throat making you gag, tears welling up in your eyes whilst his hand holds your head in place, not giving you a second to breathe. Thrusting a few more times before his hot seed spills into your throat, purposely pulling out and letting your spit fall down your chin.

You sallow the salty substance and then take a much needed breath, that was short lived when he reaches down to grab you by the throat pulling you up to his level. Your knees aching from being in that kneeling position for longer than you thought. “Who owns you?”

“Y-you do…” you muster out, he then holds you away from him as he slaps you lightly a few times, putting everything in him not to go further to ruin your pretty face, but just enough for it to sting.

“Say it better then that~” he gritted through his teeth, cowering in his hold you try everything in you to say it like he wanted.

“You own me!~” you shout with a pitiful whine following.

“Oh that’s my good girl…You fucking know who owns this body and you better not forget it…”

Once you got the notion of it possibly being over, you were wrongfully mistaken as you were thrown onto the bed with your backside facing him. The hole in your fishnets still very much there from when you and Adam were at it causing Lucifer grimace, throwing a harsh smack to your ass, your body jolting with the impact.

“Count..” he demands ripping your fishnets more to where they were basically off of you, shivering underneath him as you felt the warmth of his hand print spreading amongst your cheek.

“O-one…”

He spanked you again harder this time, across the center of your ass, and you whimpered.

"Mhmph..again..." he moaned softly with you while soothing your stinging skin. Before spanking you the second time, but on your right.

"Two!" You gasped against the sheets when he immediately spanked another time. “T-Three!”

He spanked you again and again about eight more times, and left sweet kisses down your neck for taking it so good to him.

“D-daddy…i….mm- please~” you look back at him behind you with pleading eyes, your clit radiating with heat that couldn’t go ignored much longer.

“Please what baby?” he mocked sweetly, feeling his cock twitch just at your words and the pout taking place on your face.

“Pleeeeease fuck me daddy…i-i need you so bad~” you cry out wanting nothing more to be filled by the one who owned you.

A low growl admits from him as your naughty words were rewarded gratefully once he finally made his way in, stretching your walls so deliciously making you tremble as you adjusted. Not shortly after he started rocking his hips slowly into you then finally finding a good pace that made you mewl uncontrollably.

“Such a dumb slut you are baby….getting filled by two different cocks in one day…fuuuuck…but you know daddies is better huh?…” he coos at you in a baby voice as if he wasn’t fucking you senseless into the mattress.

If you weren’t already out of your wits end you would have realized this was brought back upon the rivalry once more, but at the end of it was nether of the men who won this war.

It was you who had got fucked for most of it.

Which not even a couple months later you came up pregnant.

Now the real war is who’s the baby daddy?

(i know this is a wack ass ending but i thought it was funny 💀)

[reiderwriter]

Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

[utahimeow]

cw — pregnancy

gojo’s absentminded whistling as he shuts the front door alerts you that he’s arrived home.

you jump from your skin, hands quivering as the reality of it all begins to sink in. nerves gather in your stomach, spinning rapidly until they morph into nausea — although that might just be morning sickness.

your heart pounds through your ears, pumping so loudly and quickly that it drowns out all other noise. it means that you don’t hear when your husband enters the kitchen, and you’re not aware of him until one of his huge hands grasps your chin and gently tugs your face until your lips meet his.

the gut-wrenching nerves waver and fizzle out from the way satoru handles you so tenderly. and it’s always been this way — from your very first kiss, satoru’s ability to put your mind at ease so effortlessly has never faltered. every touch of his forces even the slightest of fears in your brain to melt away.

he pulls away, pouting, his crystal eyes filled with curiosity, and before you manage to get a verbal greeting out, he springs to ask you a question.

“why is your heart beating so fast?”

the curse of being married to the world’s most powerful sorcerer means that trying to hide emotions from him is futile. it’s not a real curse by any means, however nothing goes unnoticed — even when it’s a burden you refuse to let him help you carry.

“i have something to tell you,” you say, struggling to hold back your soft grin.

“you’re pregnant,” he says — not in curiosity, not as a question, but rather as-a-matter-of-factly.

your mouth drops, along with your heart. you’d hope it would be a sweet surprise to him, after all, and now a baffled disappointment sits in the pit of your stomach.

“how- what? how did you know?” you stutter. it wasn’t simply a guess, and you can tell from the way he smirks.

“my six eyes sensed it,” he explains. when your eyes brim with tears, his own features fill with concern. i fucked up, he thinks immediately. “angel, what’s wrong?”

“well, you could have pretended not to know! i wanted it to be special when i told you,” you whine, and he gives a lovesick laugh as he gathers you in his overwhelming embrace.

“i’m sorry, sweet thing,” he coos, soothing his hand over your hair. his voice becomes low when he speaks again, almost a whisper. “it’s still special though. we’re… having a baby.”

he says it slowly, like it’s the first time he’s actually comprehending it. because it’s no longer an unspoken thing as it had been for the past two weeks — it’s real.

and as satoru kisses the top of your head, he thinks how he’s holding his entire world in his arms — you, and the life growing inside you.

[stevenose]

adidas (18+)

a continuation of this blurb from july.

contains: steve x reader; shy reader; no gender descriptors for reader, word ‘hole’ is used; car sex! my fave; oral (steve receiving); heavy petting; make outs

hope u likey 🫶🏻

=====

“steve?”

he jumps when you talk to him. like he wasn’t expecting it. his face flushes a bit, matches the maroon of his shirt. “uh-huh?”

you’ve been working yourself up for this for a week. well, actually, for the last three months. since he’d parked his car in that abandoned lot and sent you home a changed person. “eddie can’t take me home tonight.”

because the plan of steve starting to pick you go and take you home fell flat on its face. robin didn’t want to ride with anyone else, which was fair. and you both weren’t exactly keen on everyone knowing. what you both wanted eventually fizzled out, and instead manifested itself in longing looks and some occasional, “accidental” touching.

the bastard still hasn’t given you your underwear back.

steve blinks once. twice. his adam’s apple bobs. he runs a hand through his hair, flustered much more than you’ve ever seen him. “good thing i know where you live, huh?”

it really has been the most aggravatingly long three months of your life. nothing has been the same and yet nothing has changed. steve still treats you like always - a friend on the very outskirts of his circle. you still stare down at his adidas when he’s a little too close to you, talking to you and someone else about work or a new movie. and eddie has been at every. single. hangout. picks you up and takes you home and you never once tell him (or robin, for that matter) to fuck off so you can get laid again.

but tonight, eddie has a gig, and no one passed the motion to reschedule.

“when?” steve asks, moving closer. “jesus, never thought you’d ask.”

your breath shakes when you inhale, looking up from the neck of his shirt to stare at his big brown eyes. you wonder what the look he gives you means. “couple minutes? up to you.”

“do you - want to?” he asks as his head tilts.

“yeah,” you whisper. your face turns hot. “want proof?”

there’s no one else in this corner of nancy’s kitchen. steve nods, almost imperceptibly so, and you gently take his wrist before guiding it towards the core of you. he takes a sharp inhale and looks around, his hair bobbing. you don’t know if you want to laugh or scream. he looks back at you and licks his lips. “now? we go now?”

“rob,” you’re saying two minutes later, “i’ve got a hell of a headache - steve’s gonna take me home. can you get a ride from nance?”

maybe you’re paranoid, but the smile she gives you is a little irritating. you’re relieved when she doesn’t argue. “hope you feel better.”

it’s quiet and tense when steve gets the passenger side door for you. you slip into the soft leather of the seat and open your mouth to say thank you, but steve’s lips are suddenly on yours. it shocks your brain - in fact, you feel a little sick, want and need rushing through you.

you shouldn’t be kissing a guy like him. and he shouldn’t be kissing you, you think. but his soft hands cup your heated cheeks, pink tongue caressing your bottom lip. he pulls away quickly, swipes his thumb across your cheekbone and nods with a little smile.

“sorry,” he whispers, eyes wandering your face. “had to.”

“that - that’s okay.”

steve jogs to his side of the door and slides in quickly. turns the key so fast the engine stalls for a second before purring to life. he giggles and reaches towards you, letting his hand fall on your thigh. again. it’s burning your skin.

you have to roll down the window.

you’re both silent. overthinking, certainly. steve bites his cheek while you stare out the window, and for a minute you think this will go nowhere. but then he speaks, his thumb rubbing circles on your leg.

“i missed you. y’know how hard it was watching you? i didn’t - i, uh, i didn’t know if you’d want to do this again. do you want to?” he asks again.

“please?”

he grins. “well, when you ask so sweet… you like the car? i can take you to a proper place, if you want.”

the car sort of invigorates you. it’s a little dirty and perverted. you aren’t either of those things - it makes you feel like a whole new person. “i kind of liked the view last time….”

steve snorts. “you’re funny.”

“so’re you.”

“hmm. how about you take a compliment without giving one back?”

it makes your skin crawl and you don’t really think before you say, “what else should i take?”

steve groans. it’s music to your ears. you’ve dreamed of it, tried to remember it at night - hell, during the afternoon, the early morning when the thought of him won’t let you sleep. you’re addicted. you’d say the sluttiest things imaginable if it kept getting that reaction.

you knew exactly what you wanted to do for him. got your lips all soft and red with cherry lip salve. you know how much he loves cherries. you’ve watched, hungry, while he bit off the flesh of one from a stem, covered in whipped cream. watched him add it to his coca cola. smelled it on his skin.

yes, indeed. you’re tasting him tonight.

his car veers off to the usual spot. at least, you’d like to call it that. the usual spot. you want to utter it to him when those tight levis break your imagination. when his big hands distract you as they slide into a bowling ball.

you’re desperate for courage when he parks, though steve feeds it to you. “can i kiss you?” and a second later, his soft lips are back on yours. he’s so good at it it makes you dizzy.

“such a pretty thing,” he whispers. “is that cherry?”

you nod, hands grabbing his shirt. as if he’d stop you from floating into space. you can’t even open your eyes. the sight of him might kill you.

“did you know i love cherries?”

“i know a lot about you.”

steve’s big hand slides up your thigh, playing with the sensitive skin on the inside. “oh, yeah?” his lips press against yours but he still talks. “like what?”

your face is so hot it’s embarrassing. you’re not even aware that you’re grinding against the seat below you. so goddamn needy for him. you speak between kisses. “like - you - suck - at - pool.”

“that - a - deal - breaker - for - you?”

you giggle. you can’t help it. “least you - can kiss.”

steve surges towards you, his chest pressed i’m against yours. you’re on fire. you might suffocate. it’s delightful. you want to feel this claustrophobic because of him all the time. your hands tangle in his hair and you pull him towards you while his fingers finally find you needy between the thighs again.

“you been thinkin’ of me like i’ve been thinkin’ of you?” he asks, pulling away. his lips are tinted red now, too. he looks a little pathetic when he asks it, excited, eager, but ready for rejection.

“of course i have,” you breathe. “every night, every morning.”

“what a romantic,” steve teases. he applies a little bit more pressure to your sensitivity. “y’know how much i’ve been thinkin’ about you? jerked myself sore after every hangout. but i’m starting to forget the taste of you.”

you’re so wildly out of your depth here. he talks about this like it’s second nature. “that’s too bad.” you’re perpetually out of breath. “i….”

steve raises his brows and inclines his head towards you, a teasing smile tugging his lips. “you….?”

you’re dizzy. “i don’t even know what you taste like.”

“huh?” he genuinely did not hear you. you’re mumbling, scared to say the wrong thing. it really riles him up, though.

you don’t want to repeat yourself, so you instead reach across the console to rub his erection with your hand. he gasps and bites his lip while his puppy dog eyes squeeze shut. “oh!”

“can i taste?” you whisper.

steve’s eyes snap open and he looks truly surprised. “oh,” he says, less slutty. “i - uh - i - are you -?”

you nod. “want to feel you in my mouth.”

it sounds so lame when it comes out but steve groans, head falling back against the window. “don’t say shit like that,” he moans, rutting up against your palm.

okay, now you’re on fire in a very different way. “like what?” you don’t really have to make yourself sound innocent. “like, i wanna feel how heavy your cock is on my tongue?”

“oh my god,” he groans. “baby - jesus christ. christ. shit. where have you been?”

“waiting,” you answer. “will you help me?”

steve gets his pants down his hips in record time. he blushes heavily, waiting for your reaction. which - your face is probably blank to him, because conceptualizing the size of him is a difficult task. he’s thick, long, the tip gently slapping against his tummy. your pipe dream of getting him in your throat is out the window. for now, you’ll have to start small.

which, he is not.

“is it okay?” steve asks.

“what?” your head snaps up to see his disheveled face and messy hair. “its - yeah. i - i might not be able to -“

“of course!” he says quickly, shaking his head. “you don’t have to do anything - kissin’ you’s more than enough - and - and you know i love tasting y-“

you lean forward and it shuts him up. he shifts so he’s facing you, so he’s closer. your hand reaches out experimentally to feel him. steve sighs when your fingers wrap around the velvet length. he’s so much warmer and harder than you ever imagined.

“and you’ve never…?” he asks hoarsely.

you look up at him through your lashes and he almost combusts. “no.”

steve shivers. his hands gently scrape through your hair, pushing it out of your pretty face. “go slow, okay? you want to stop, we stop.”

it’s almost annoying. “steve, be quiet.”

“i’m not known for th-aaaaaaaah!”

his head falls back against the window again just from you licking the tip of his cock. the salt of his precum makes your mouth water. his nails scratch gingerly at your scalp in the same way your fingers try to find purchase in his shirt when he kisses you.

you feel powerful. really, truly.

he’s saying nonsense above you when you really start your work, taking him further and further into your mouth. he’s so heavy on your tongue. tastes clean and inoffensive. you adore the way his shaft tenses up when you run your tongue over a vein or focus on the head.

“you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he slurs, watching you with hooded eyes. “so good at that, honey, y’sure y’never did this?”

you pop off of him and use your hand to leisurely jerk him off. it’s much different from his ferocity when he ate you out. “why? you jealous?”

steve’s chest heaves and he tries to find words. “sometimes when eddie’d take you home i - i’d get - thinking about him touching you -“

“please don’t mention him right now,” you beg, though you’d be lying if the idea of him getting pissed over you and someone else didn’t do it for you.

he changes the subject quickly. “touch yourself.”

you pause. “i - might be hard -“

“ugh, right,” he moans. “wish - wish you - had more room. could finger that - that pretty little hole while you suck me off.”

you moan now, and lean back forward to suck him off again. you’re messy with it, letting yourself drool on him to account for what you couldn’t take. you wish he’d make you take it, his fingers bullying into you while his hips buck up. you want it so bad it has you drooling harder, your core aching. it hurts.

“miss it,” he continues, voice strained. “miss how t-tight y’were on my tongue, shit! oh, honey, we - we - should s-sixty-nine, that’d be so hot.”

you moan and, against your better judgement, take him a little deeper. you gag when he hits the back of your throat but the mini freak-out steve has when you do is so worth it. he gasps and thrashes, a long, guttural groan filling the car. “yes, fuck! fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck i’m close so close-“

and you don’t really know what to do with your hand, so it reaches down to fondle his balls, which feels dirty and makes your heart beat fast and hard. steve’s pulling you off of him so quickly you get whiplash, and then he’s cumming in thick spurts, gasping and arching and whining. you reach for him to help him finish, his big hand finding yours and helping you jerk him off. his mouth open in an “o”, his eyes staring at you with adoration, brows furrowed.

your pristine hand is covered in his cum. it’s pretty, pearlescent in the moonlight. you want to taste it but you’re not sure if that would make things awkward. your fever has vanished and you’re thinking a bit more clearly now. anxiety creeps in - but steve’s lips quickly quell it, soothing you as they move against yours.

“sorry,” he whispers. he’s very giggly. “got y’messy.”

“you’re prone to doing that.”

he laughs louder. “cute and funny?”

“and good at head?”

“that’s not a requirement.”

“an added bonus, certainly?”

steve pulls you towards him again. “you want my dirty underwear this time?”

you feel lightheaded when you say yes.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Back to Life

human!alastor x human!gnreader

Part 1 of 5+

summary for part: you had just been for a walk in the woods, and now suddenly you’re standing over a historical looking guy with a chipper attitude and… a gun? thankfully he’s here to help you in your bloodied and confused state, but as things play out you can’t help but notice nothing is like it was before your fall, and all you have to trust is the odd grinning man

summary for series: One day when waltzing through the woods a peculiar looking buck led you deeper in, while following, you fell hitting your head and woke to a stranger standing over you. You don’t know where you are, how you got here, or who this guy is, but he’s all you’ve got and he’s utterly insane.

warnings for part: short first chap, lowercase intended; i’m feeling quirkyyy, multiple parts-i put other things aside because my brain is STUCK on human alastor sorry lads ;-;, blood, descriptions of injury, kinda strange stylized writing, i’ve got like a whole story thing planned compared to the other ones-this one’s got a whole plot line. no descriptions of reader- of any kind, no pronouns, i looked up a shit ton of 1920s outfits & speech just for a couple lines lmao, OOC alastor my reasoning behind that is he’s not in hell yet so he hasn’t had that kind of demonic development yet, he’s still a psycho tho and we love him for that, also mommas boy <3, he uses 1920s slang a lot lads, throughout the whole series

warnings for series: homicide, morally grey reader, eventual smut, cannibalism, reader will eat a guy, unknowingly, alastor be doing witchcraft magical madness but it’s never in depth explanations, alastor is a mommas boy and it will be hounded on, annoying 1920s slang, alastor is more accumulated to the era he’s in so he may be OOC 100 years in hell would change a guy, varying descriptions of injuries and blood in detail, takes place in 1927, alastor is 27 oop born in 1899 tho, nothing here is canon, just loosely follows, reader is in their 20s at least; no younger, alastors mom is nameless mostly, maybe later on she’ll have a name; she’s 48, alastor has daddy issues bc same, mimzy may be added later depending,

you remembered seeing a deer while wandering through the woods, you were taking pictures of the scenery when you saw this curious looking deer.

it stood tall with large antlers, a beautiful reddish brown coat, you’d never seen a deer so close. brining your camera up slow you went to snap a picture when your phone crashed, you weren’t even able to get the buck in frame before your phone fizzled out.

the deer started to walk away, but you so badly wanted these pictures. slowly you followed behind, cautious of the leaves and sticks below your feet. you followed it over a fallen tree, through bush and branch. finally you entered an area filled with more foliage, closer trees that blocked off sunlight, more bushes and fallen trees, wild flowers, moss and random mushrooms.

you watched as the buck disappeared behind thick bush, and that’s the last conscious moment you remembered. you woke at the bottom of the hill, when you opened your eyes you didn’t know a thing.

it was like you were a blank slate, everything was as it was; there was no confusion, you were simply in the woods with no worry or question as to why. you laid there, your head lulling from side to side observing the tree covered sky above, the sunlight that shot through the trees highlighting the particles floating through the air.

there wasn’t a sound at all; the animals feared something near. inhaling deeply, you willed your head up, wincing and groaning in pain. suddenly life as you knew it came back to you, you weren’t just a mindless being in the woods, you were you, and you were out here taking pictures and then, fell?

you still weren’t sure what had happened just that you followed a deer and then… fell asleep and woke here. your body ached badly, specifically your forehead, your back, neck and shoulders. it seemed the brunt of the fall was your head, lifting your hand you touched your forehead feeling a flap of skin that wasn’t there before.

looking down at your hand you weren’t surprised to see some blood, in fact the top you had worn had been covered in it. “hello dear, funny place to snooze if ya ask me.” a voice joked, startling you. however your body was too tired to startle, so despite your heart rate increasing, and the jump you felt in your bones, your body remained eerily still, your head slowly turning toward the sound.

standing above you was a man with a soft smile, he wore circluar glasses and the strangest outfit. he wore a coat chestnut brown- a lumberjack coat; strange looking pants that puffed out at the hips, with boots that the pants cinched into them. his hands were covered by gloves, and tiny brown coloured coiled curls popped out from his hunting cap, and on his shoulder a leather strap that allowed a large shotgun to sit on his back.

you were taken aback by his looks, his outfit looked vintage, historical too, and he was, well, gorgeous. “you’re bleeding quite a bit dear, how’s about we getcha up and outta here, hm?” lending his hand to you, the man gave you a charming smile with lidded eyes. you felt something was off about the man, a lingering feeling that something beyond your understanding was telling you to run, get away.

instead you whimpered, pathetically so, and placed your hand into his, letting him hoist you up. he wrapped your arm around him, while he looped his own arm under you, helping you walk. it was hard to do so, your ribs hurt with every breath you took, your head felt like it was floating above your shoulders, your cheeks watered making you swallow constantly, and though you were shivering your body felt ablaze on the inside, like hot coals were lit under your skin.

the man looked down at you, you could see from your peripheral vision he was inspecting you, but you were too pained to care. “how’d you find yourself at the bottom of the hill my dear, someone try to bump you off?” his voice was way too chipper for your current mood, and all you did was mutter a confused ‘huh’ at him, thankfully he laughed that off.

“listen, i’ll take you to my joint my mothers over so we can getcha all patched up, but you’ve gotta spill whatever happened to you if that’s quite alright.” despite the sturdiness in his voice, asserting what was going to happen with expectations, he tone was somewhat kind. dryly you mutter out ‘name?’, your voice raspy and unlike your own. the man chuckled before he responded in a smooth tone. “alastor dear, pleasure to meet you.”

[astxroiid]

manhattan longing // tasm!peter parker

❥ tender hands, late nights, secrets, falling from great heights.

wc: 1.1k

navigation ✩ new york private life (I) ✩ empire state of mind (II)

Peter Parker never thought a wall looked so good to punch. Sitting backwards on your toilet while you shakily stitch up a gash on his back does that to a man.

The adrenaline from the fall wore off and Peter realized he probably didn't just land on the concrete of the sidewalk.

Plus, the glass you ungraciously pulled from his wound answered any doubt.

Speaking of ungracious, the needle in his back was definitely not forming and sort of straight lines.

Peter clutches the toilet lid like a vice. Knuckles turning white and head feeling light from how long he's been holding his breath.

"Okay, this should be the last one," the tone in your voice makes him feel awful for the pain he's feeling. He can here the sadness in your voice, how bad you feel for hurting him.

You push through his skin, pulling the stitch tight and cutting the string. Peter intakes a breath, attempting to dig his nails into the porcelain he's wrapped himself around.

You set the needle on the counter, both peter and you letting out a long awaited breath. His shoulders slump. You slowly reach up, running a thumb over healed scars, all white and jagged.

"Do you fall on glass often?" Your tone is soft and close to a whisper.

Peter turns his head to the side, looking at you over his shoulder. "No, I...." he pauses, attempting to think of a good excuse. Though, you don't know that. "I used to, uhm, box. Yeah. It was intense."

"Oh," you frown slightly, tilting ur head.

You back up, allowing Peter to stand. He turns to face you, revealing a forgotten scar on his chest.

It's long. It spans from his collar bone diagonally to the bottom of his rib cage and it's almost an inch wide.

"Peter," you whisper. "There's no way you got that boxing."

Peter quickly grabs his shirt off the counter, pulling it over his head. "That one's not, I don't really wanna talk about it."

Shame. Shame and embarrassment crash over you like a cold wave. Why the fuck did i mention it?!

You look down at your hands, digging your nails into the sides of each other. "Sorry, I didn't mean to over step."

"No, nonono, don't be sorry. It's okay," Peter smiles at you and, in one spontaneous moment, he's brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

His heart is pounding in his chest. Fear of pushing a boundary crawling up his body.

Your cheeks are warm and before you know it, your hand is holding his against your face, thumb rubbing his knuckles.

"You're so sweet, Peter Parker."

Fucking kiss her!

You let your fingers trail along his arm, trying to give him a hint he can pick up on.

Fucking kiss me!

It's the perfect time too. God her smile. And her hands, they're so soft, and gentle. Loving in a way he never knew he needed.

"Thank you for fixin' me up," Peter gives a lopsided smile, pulling his hand back to his side.

A cold absence takes hold of where his hand once was.

"Of course," you give a flat smile. "You saved my life. It's the least I can do."

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

You offer Peter to stay the night, again saying it's the least you can do in repayment of his heroic act.

You both end up on the couch, curled up watching tv. Again, seeing a couple embrace and feeling the same longing from the other day.

You move to lay your head on Peter's shoulder, letting his arm wrap around you, and sighing into him. Comfort overtakes your body as you sink further into him, slowly running your hand up and down his forearm.

His heart is pounding in his chest. Nerves shaking his hands and his thoughts. "y/n?"

This is it. I'm finally gonna kiss her.

"Yes?"

And with the sweet, sleepy tone of your voice he feels all his confidence start to fizzle. His brain short-circuits trying to come up with a cover up.

"D'you wanna go to bed?"

"Yeah," you yawn, pushing further into him.

Pete leads you from the living room to your bedroom, making sure to turn all the lights off along the way. He pauses once you reach the bedroom, not sure where to go.

You turn and walk up to him, grinning. You place a hand on his chest, feeling his pulse increase.

Peter has no idea what to do. His heart is in his throat, hands tingling.

You let your hand slide up his torso and to the back of his neck, getting as close as you can to him. Peter gulps, looking from your eyes to your lips then back again.

Time seems to stand still, neither of you breathing nor looking away from each other. You tangle your fingers into the brown curls and the nape of Pete's neck, twirling them.

Finally, you pull Peter down to you fully. You kiss him the intensity of the sun. He immediately reciprocates. Your bodies instantly meld into one. Finding their way to the bed and laying you down on your back.

Peter Parker is hovering above you, smiling like an idiot. The same Peter Parker that you loved way back in ninth grade. You were both fourteen, both idiots. The Peter above you now is the same one that fell off the jungle gym in gym class in second grade and blamed you for distracting him.

All the memories swell in your mind, bubbling into one thought you can't help from leaving your lips.

"I have loved you for a long time, Peter Parker."

Peter's eyes go wide, head tilting towards you. "You, what?"

"Have loved you for a long time. since ninth grade to be exact," you state seriously.

You've said it twice and yet, he still can't process it. You notice and try to help him out. You push him over on his side, moving yourself the same way.

"When we were both fourteen, we went on a school field trip to the Empire State Building. We all got to go to the top, but i was afraid of heights. So, you held my hand and told me-"

"If you fall, I'll fall with you," both of you repeat together. And in a crazy twist of fate, you both did fall together.

"I've loved you ever since then."

Peter grabs you by the back of your head, pulling you in for another kiss. Souls connecting into one like two water drops.

He can't believe it. You. You've loved him from the same moment he loved you, and after all this time, you made it back to each other. Falling harder than ever.

remember: likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs are the desire. Remember they do more for authors and tumblrs than a like ever could.

[heartofjasmina]

Wakatoshi and his bimbo girlfriend, none of his friends could fault the sweet thing for being more kind than smart. And none of his friends would dream of trying to make a move when Ushijimia towered behind you like an overprotective wolfhound. Whenever his parents or friends asked why he was so enamoured with you-- his cheeks grew red. He could go on for hours about how genuinely thoughtful you were of everyone, equally, or how he could see a future and kids with you as easy as breathing. But he was a highschool boy, the first thing that popped into his head when asked that question was "she's the only one who could take my whole dick and still ask for more."

You were not his first girlfriend. He'd had many, some who wanted the status of dating a start player, some who genuinely had a crush on him. But none of them wanted to have anything to do with him sexually once they saw his size, and the relationships fizzled out shortly after each time.

But you? Your eyes lit up like you'd won a fucking prize. You'd immediately gotten on your knees and fucked your own throat with his cock until you got the cum you'd worked for. And before he could put what was left of his brain together, you were standing and shedding your clothes- pushing him back onto the bed and straddling him with a sheepish look on your face.

"Sorry Toshi, but I gotta have you in me now. I hope you don't mind."

And since then he's been carrying a ring in his pocket with your name on it.

[penvisions]

wish i never met you {a garnish one shot}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Fear of rejection and messing up so beyond comprehension makes you regret crossing the professional line and getting to know Joel as you do now.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: canon typical language, joel thinks he's the one in charge but we all know it's really reader, religious contemplation, mentions of past trauma, mentions of bad family dynamics, smoking, consumption of alcohol, menstruation, talk of menstruation, blood, cramps, muscle soreness, unorthodox pregnancy announcement, reader is a hot mess, allusions to adult content, allusions to smut, mentions of past p in v, might need to add more if i missed anything!

A/N: wrote this as part of a fun, silly fic title prompt game submission from a sweet anon. it totally inspired an angsty din piece at first that i have in my drafts but then these two slammed into my brain and hijacked the idea. i just love them, your honor. i have so much love for them. NOW I KNOW THIS SUBJECT MATTER ISN'T FOR EVERYONE, I REALLY DEBATED POSTING THIS OVER THE LAST FEW DAYS BC I KNOW IT'S NOT EVERYONE'S CUP OF TEA but i feel like this is a good trajectory for these two, truly. i'm so sorry if anyone disagrees with the direction i took this in and i hopei t doesn't take away from the original series for y'all

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“No, fuck off.” Was the quick response to a wide palm caressing over your back. You were hunched over your crossed legs on the couch, aware of how bad the position was for your posture. But it was the only way to find any relief on your aching back. You had thought it was cramps at first, really, but then you realized all the symptoms of your monthly cycle fell in line with something else when the bleeding never started.

“Excuse me, darlin���? You sure you wanna use that language with me?” Joel’s deep voice was tinged with an edge, giving you the chance to retract your expletives. You were never so outright with your denial, never wanting to deny the man a few feet away. But the way in which you had expressed it to an obviously exhausted Joel was maybe too bold for the late hour. But you didn’t take it, instead repeating yourself.

“Kindly, fuck off. Don’t touch me.” You pulled away from him, hunching lower under his hand to break the contact.

“That’s not much better, ya know.” Joel’s hands shifted to his waist, a thick brow raised as he took in the sight of you nearly balled up, the faint light of the screen lighting up your face as you ignored him.

A harsh contraction of your muscles had you groaning out, “I wish I never met you.”

“C’mon now, you don’t mean that.” Joel huffed, trying to keep his calm, but you knew it was hard for him even if you really didn’t feel all that good. You never took your pain or frustration out on him like this, it was always soft murmurs of ‘hold me’ or ‘can I borrow your warmth’. Never the way you were reacting now.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into y-“ His mouth snapped shut, eyes focusing on the screen. On the words you had typed into the search engine. Normally he would tease you over the typos, your fingers not working as quick as you mind for all the grace and focus you normally had to expertly wield a sharp knife.

 Your heart thumped at the sudden silence. The fizzling tension that had filled the room.

“Don’t!” You gasped out, slamming the laptop closed and shielding the device with your body completely.

“Darlin’…” You swore you could hear the cogs turning in his head. Thinking back on the depraved as desperate way you had been seeking him out when he returned home from a late shift at the restaurant even despite the haze of sleep, in the mornings before you had to peel yourself away to go to campus, the photos you had brazenly sent him without warning that had him shielding or turning his phone over throughout the day. Thinking back on the way you had been inhaling food at any occasion, none of your normal contemplation or silence after what you considered a binge. Thinking back on the way you had begun to complain of your work clothing feeling wrong and too tight on your aching body as you dressed in the morning.

When he moved to sit on the other side of the couch, far too close for comfort, you shied away and pressed your back into the arm on your end.

“Not gonna touch ya, you have my word.” He raised his hands placatingly, his expression so soft that the tears burst from you without warning.

“You do-don’t wanna touch me. Not anymo-more.” Hiccups jolted your body, making the skin you were already uncomfortable in tingle. “I ruined ev-everything.”

He regarded you with a small frown, his plush lips pulled down as he clasped his hands together in his lap. Just as he opened his mouth to speak the words flew from you.

“I remember what you said, on the line.” You narrowed your eyes at him as they echoed in your head.

‘It had been a slow day, prep and cleaning taking over most of the evening shift. It had been back before you had taken on a role in the kitchen. Sneaking fries from the bowl of them on the expo line. They hadn’t been hot or even salted, but they were better than snacking on the fruity garnishes at the bar.

He had been passing the time with who you hadn’t known at the time was his brother, Tommy. Who had driven into the city to help take a look at the empty lot beside the restaurant, both of them contemplating the construction of a patio. But they had ended up in the kitchen, hunger too strong a call.

While Joel was on the line, Tommy was beside you, sneaking fries with a wink in your direction. But you ignored him, focused on looking through the catalogue of one of your vendors. Trying to make a seasonal menu. But your ears caught the harsh grunt of the man your eyes trailed over in the midst of busy nights.

“Wouldn’t do it, no.”

“C’mon, you seriously tellin’ me you wouldn’t baby sit for me if I were to gift you with a niece or nephew.”

“No, ‘m too old. Hire a babysitter.”

“You’re full of it ‘n you know it.”

“Brother, a baby is a lot of work. Now, your baby? Even more so.” Joel leveled his brother with a look that silenced any other argument on the matter.’

The moment he realized what you were talking about, his brows flew up into his hairline and he breathed out a hearty chuckle.

“Darlin’, I was just givin’ him a hard time. You gotta know that.”

“I didn’t know you.” You stood up from the couch, body protesting the movement. Cupping a hand over your mouth, you breathed harshly as you tried to tamp down a bout of nausea. “And now that I do, I’m gonna have to consider literally everything on my own and I’m gonna hate how much it hurts to not know you any longer. I wish I-“

“No,” He sighed, brow furrowing before he pinned you with a serious expression. “You do know me now and I wouldn’t turn my back on you, on this. I’m in it, pretty girl, no matter what you decide to do.”

When you whipped away from him, shuddering breaths wracking your sore body, the crack of your voice on a sob spurred him into motion. His arms came around you slowly, giving you the chance to retreat if it wasn’t something you wanted. But you let him, the feel of his chest warm and soothing on your aching back. The push of his soft stomach comforting. His chin hooked over a shoulder, and he spoke in such a somber tone.

“Darlin’, I always thought I was too old to do this again. But I haven’t crossed fifty quite yet and the thought of you carrying my child, of loving me and my child. God, I would give anything for it to be our future. To see you blossom into yourself more, to show our baby the same devotion you give to everything in your life, you deserve somewhere to put all your love.”

One of his hands moved over the one you had on your middle. Holding you so secure, holding you both so secure.

“Joel…it’s a lot. It’s….we’re not even-“ You turned in his arms, facing him. His beautiful, open expression so full of love and adoration, all of it for you. Your heart melted in your chest, dripping low to flutter in your stomach. You weren’t even overtly religious, left over from the trauma of your childhood. Of being forced to attend mass and important holidays alongside your grandparents. The denial of your father never urging you to seek out a higher power in replacement. But the thought of technically being single and going through something like this. It made you afraid.

“There’s a ring in my sock drawer. Got it the day of our first do over date. ‘s why I was so close to the campus. It’s yours. I’m yours. This could be yours. But only if you want it.” Joel’s forehead lightly thumped against yours as he pressed in close. His breath a warm wash over your face, smelling faintly of cigarette smoke.

Looking between each of his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitancy from him it was quiet. When you didn’t find any, you felt a smile pull at your lips as you nodded your head in affirmation. Wet laughter bubbling up as his lips pressed to yours, a smile of his own for you to feel on them.

“But I still expect you to propose, can’t skip any steps with me. I know you think you’re hot shit with being crowned the city’s most prolific chef of the year but I swear to-“

He cut you off with another kiss, his moustache ticking your upper lip as he nipped at your bottom one.

“I don’t wanna miss any steps with ya, darlin’. I’m here for ‘em all.”

It was hard to ignore the stirring of other feelings in your body, drowning out the aches and pains. But when realization hit you, you pulled back with wide eyes.

“We’re gonna have to stop drinking and smoking!”

“We?”

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @76bookworm76 @hiddenbabynyc @clevergirl74 @anavatazes @samiamproductions @sarap-77 @honeyedmiller @undercoverpena

[biteofcherry]

Eva, I am sorry to inform you that this guy:

Is not amused by your bratty behavior, not at all, honey, and he thinks that maybe he needs to find something better to do with that smart mouth of yours. 👀

Bratty? Me? 😇 I think Andy's been too stressed with work and in fear of him suffering a heart attack I simply did my best to defuse the tension and make him relax. Like a good, loving girl that I am 😌

Charm and defuse

Andy Barber x female reader

summary: You thought it was a great idea to pick your husband from office after watching him work so hard for the past few weeks. Andy was so tense, coming back home late each night. So really, surprising him should make him feel a little better, right? Well...

warnings: established relationship; Dom/sub undertones; possessive Andy Barber; smut-t-y bits ahead;

You feel a little bad.

Mostly embarrassed. And giggly.

There's a champagne hiccup, too.

And feeling bad, yes. The bad part is important. Especially when Andy's face clouds with that stormy look, muscle in his jaw ticking as he stares you down.

He shouldn't be staring you down, you think. You're his cute, beloved wife and you came here to make him happy. You almost frown at him, but remember that Andy's hand gets heavier when you frown at him.

Well, sometimes you do it on purpose, because the sting of his slap can feel amazing.

Something tells you now wouldn't be the right time to aggravate him further. You're in enough trouble as it is. Not your fault, truly, but better not point that out.

Pity that your mouth doesn't cooperate with the tiny non-drunk particle in your otherwise tipsy brain.

"Don't glare. It's your fault." You blurt. And frown. Oops.

Andy arches a single eyebrow as he takes a step forward. He moves quietly, yet each step feels like it thunders along with your heartbeat. Which stopped for a few seconds when Andy came into his office.

Your plan was to come to Andy's office in the evening, so you could surprise him after his last meeting and perhaps be a little naughty on his big, polished desk.

Which is why you came in nothing but lingerie under your cobalt blue coat and with a bottle of champagne - some expensive sparkle that Andy kept in the small wine cellar at your house.

But Andy's meeting was running late. Really late. To the point of you getting bored out of your mind.

So you opened the bottle. A few sips wouldn't harm anyone and you'd be more relaxed to make a sexy pose on Andy's office couch to welcome him when he returned.

Half a bottle later he did return.

And you were spread on his couch in nothing but lingerie and jewelry, sucking a finger into your mouth when Andy walked in.

With three other man right at his back...

You're not sure if he was more pissed that those men saw you like that, or that you cursed and giggled and waved your fingers at them.

He barked out something harsh to them and closed the door to his office (more like slammed them). Andy's eyes never leave your form, even as you stumble from your sprawled-like-a-whore position to a more lady like.

"Explain, please," Andy slowly takes off his suit jacket, "how is it my fault that my wife flashed a body that belongs to me to other men and downed half of the bottle of Krug that I saved for our wedding anniversary?"

He drapes his jacket over the back of a guest chair and starts rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Which makes your brain sidetrack and your thighs clench.

"Maybe if you weren't so busy with a boring meeting, you'd get to your wife sooner and do something about all this!" You gesture at yourself and pout.

"Oh, I'm about to do something about all this." Andy's voice is a snap of leather, sending shivers down your spine at the though of that potential outcome.

"Okay!" You jump up, swaying slightly as the bubbles fizzle in your head again.

You hook your thumbs under the waistband of your panties, about to tug them down your legs, when Andy's fingers clench around your wrists and pull your hands away.

"You're not getting the part you like, honey," his breath is a hit, cruel tease against the shell of your ear.

"Not until I've had my fill."

He twists your arms behind your back and binds them with his tie. Then he's pushing on your shoulder, forcing you to kneel down. Sliding a foot between your knees, he kicks them wider apart.

Keeps his shoe dipped right under your clothed pussy, too.

"You downed that champagne so eagerly and spread yourself like a cute little slut-" Andy tilts your chin up with one hand, unfastening his pants with the other- "You will swallow me as eagerly and rub yourself on my shoe like a good girl."

When you don't react, too mesmerized with the sight of his beautiful, thick cock springing free, Andy squeezes your chin.

"Won't you?" He asks, holding your gaze.

"Yes, Sir." You wet your lips and grin. "I like the taste of you more than champagne, anyway."

Andy snorts, but eases his grip on your chin and instead cups your cheek as he guides his cock between your parted lips.

"Prove it, brat," he challenges, holding the back of your head as he pushes himself down your throat.

When you start rocking your hips against his foot while tonguing the underside of his dick, Andy groans in relieved bliss.

Lord knows your presence is always what he needs for his day to be better, even when you're being mouthy or getting into trouble. He loved your surprise visit and if it wasn't for the unexpected witnesses, he'd take your giggly, tipsy ass for a ride on his desk - just like he knows you've been dreaming.

But other men saw the treasure that you were and since Andy can't punch them and gouge their eyes out, he has to take it out on you.

Besides, it wouldn't do good if he didn't punish you for being careless.

Sensing your rhythm increasing, Andy stills with his cock halfway in your mouth and taps his shoe against your inner thigh. You gaze up at him, swallowing a hum around his length.

"You don't get to cum." He commands and your pupils widen.

Your whine resonates along Andy's cock, but you slow the motion of your hips. You're not particularly happy with this punishment, but you guess you'd be even less happy with the repercussions for your disobedience.

Then again...

"Don't even think about it," Andy pats your cheek. "Disobey and you won't be cumming for a month."

"Be good," he caresses you with the back of his hand and pushes deeper into your throat, "and I'll reward you for being my good girl."

"My good." He starts fucking your face harder. "Thoughtful. Frisky. Wife. Oh fuck baby! That's it! Keep going. Keep-"

It takes all remnants of your will power not to orgasm when Andy does. It's fucking hard to do, because the grip on your head and the twitching of his cock on your tongue is a great turn on.

Maybe Andy's conditioned your body to react this way to the mere taste of him, but you have to lift your hips completely up from his shoe, because the slightest pressure would undoubtedly tip you over the edge.

Andy pulls out when he's still spurting, smearing last splashes on your chin and cheeks. Then thrusts into your mouth again.

Long minutes later Andy lifts you up on your feet. He unties your hands and helps you into your coat. Your body is still buzzing with need, panties sticking to your slick folds.

He doesn't clean your face and holds your hand in his as he marches you out of his office into his car.

[lexosaurus]

What's the golden eyes au??

Okay I looked and it was actually called the "jack o lantern au" it looks like. So it's sorta just Known that Danny Phantom canon is legit allergic to making characters with brown eyes, and in response, a few years ago, @dotsz decided to draw Danny Fenton with brown eyes as a human, and gold eyes in Phantom form (cuz reverted colors). The concept SLAPPED and so more art was made/passed around. (more art), (more art), (more art and sorry cam im literally just in ur tags rn)

It was only ever like one/a few people doing it—as most niche AUs go—so when they moved on, the concept sorta fizzled out. But I think conceptually the idea was incredibly cool and the art was s-t-u-n-n-i-n-g. So yeah it's just one of those older, niche things that lives in a corner of my brain!

The "Daniel Photon" ad color swap mishap just sorta brought that all to the forefront of my mind!