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coryosbaby · 6 months

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1. 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓢𝓮𝔁

𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: Inviting your incredibly nice and incredibly married family friend to your birthday party was not meant to be a way of seduction— or was it?

𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 #2: You clean your neighbor and family friend Anakin’s house, and he comes to your birthday party with a special gift.

𝓒𝔀: bimbo! Reader, infidelity, age gap (reader is twenty, Anakin is in his mid to late thirties)— nsfw . oral (m & f recieving), vaginal fingering, smell kink, daddy kink, sub! Reader, dom! Anakin | | 𝓝𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓭: angel, baby, little girl, sweetheart, dollface, kid, honey

𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: This is part 1 of the Insatiable series ! (Click link for series masterlist)

You’ve never really liked Padme.

And honestly, it’s clear that she doesn’t like you that much either. You don’t know why— you’ve always been nothing but fake nice to her.

At least you have a reason to hate her— that reason being her absolute sex symbol of a husband. Or, aka, a man that’s been hanging around your family for as long as you can remember.

Your hate for Padme originally spawned from the fact that she married Anakin. But as the years have went on, your hate for her has reigned even more clearer than before. She lies, steals Anakin’s money, and cheats— a lot. You know about the last part because you’ve seen random men spew in and out of the house when Anakin is working to make money and pay for the things that she wants. And it enrages you— you don’t understand how she could treat someone as perfect, handsome, and kind as Anakin so terribly.

If he was yours, you would never let him go.

—

You decide to invite Anakin’s to your birthday party.

Of course, he’s always went to them— but reminding him wouldn’t hurt, right? So, on a sunny summer day, you decide to walk across the street to his house. A box of cookies in your hand and in your favorite short skirt due to the scorching hot weather, you knock and wait for him. When he answers, he’s in nothing but a t shirt and boxers. The sight of his muscled thighs and his strong arms makes you a little weak in the knees, but you try to shove your sinful thoughts down. It seems that Padme is gone— thank god. If she knew you were here, she’d have your head.

“Hi, Ani!” You greet sweetly. Although run down and exhausted, Anakin still gives you a smile back. You always lighten the man’s mood.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he replies back.

“Nice day, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is,” his eyes had avert down to the clear box in your hands, the lid pink and adorned with hello kitty stickers. “Are those for me?”

“Mhm! ” you say excitedly. “I just made them! I knew you’d want some.”

Of course you did. You always give your neighbors sweet treats— Anakin the most often, because he’s your favorite. And because you know he loves the things you bake.

Anakin’s steps towards you, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Always know when I need something sweet, don’t you, honey?”

He looks at you with true affection, though you can sense something teasing underneath that pleased lilt. You can feel heat creeping up your neck as he grabs the box from you.

“Thank you.” He says, after a moment. “Have a nice day.”

He goes to shut the door. You shuffle nervously, and then loudly, you blurt out, “Wait! You’re coming to my birthday party this weekend, right?”

Anakin’s brows furrow as he opens the door back up, but he seems amused by your question.

“Do you want me to?”

“I-I mean—“ you stutter, rolling forward on the balls of your feet. “Of course I do.”

“Hmm…” he pretends to think for a moment, a small smile grazing his lips. “And what do I get in return? I’d have to take a day off, if it’s on a Friday…”

Shit. It is on a Friday. You bite your lip, doe eyes looking around as you come up with a plan.

“I’ll.. clean your house?”

It’s a dumb suggestion, one that makes Anakin crane his neck to look back at his slightly cluttered home. He tries to act serious as he looks back at you and crosses his arms.

“What, do you think my house is… dirty, or something?”

You flush, immediately shaking your head.

“No! No, Ani, that’s not what I meant. I- I just… I know you work a lot, so I assume that it’d take a lot of strain off of you. God, I’m sorry-“

“I’m fucking with you,” he interrupts. A smirk glazes his lips. “I know what you meant.” His eyes sweep across your body, and you feel a little dizzy. After a moment, he relaxes and his face splits into a grin.

“Of course I’ll come to your birthday party, kid. Y’know I always do.”

“Okay!” You smile sheepishly, but nervously bite your lip as you speak again. “Uhm.. you don’t have to get me anything. Not at all.”

“I’m gonna get you something.” He states bluntly.

“Okay! That’s— that’s fine.” Your eyes avert from his piercing gaze, something that you should be used to after all these years but aren’t. “I’ll still clean your house, though. I can do it right now, if you want!” You pause, trying to think of how to word the next sentence.

“I… I wanna do something nice for you, Ani.”

There it is again. That look in Anakin’s eyes, hungry, as he steps closer to you once again.

“Well…” he murmurs. ““…Aren’t you just a sweet little girl?”

He brings his fingers up to tank top, toying with the thin material.

You’re slick with wetness, and suddenly feel very shy. Your eyes look down at the wooden porch below you as his fingers brush up on your collarbone. You’re too flustered to really speak again.

Anakin, done with his teasing (for now), steps back and gestures towards the inside of his home.

“Go on,” he says. “Cleaner’s in the cabinet below the sink. You know how I like things to be organized.”

—

Getting the yellow sponge handed to you wet and sudsy, you begin to work on his kitchen counters first. It’s not like they’re gross, per say— his house is more cluttered than nasty. As you intensely work on getting the countertop nice and clean, you can feel Anakin’s gaze pierce through your skin. He had decided to sit at the bar of the kitchen a few moments ago, after finishing half of the container of fresh chocolate chip cookies. Now clad in a pair of jeans and a white wifebeater, he lights a cigarette in his hand. Finally finishing up the counters, you decide to work on the dishes.

Anakin moves to the other side of the bar. He always keeps a radio in this spot, and with idle hands he turns the knob to up the volume a bit. You smile when you hear a Brittany Spears song blaring through the speakers. It’s not Anakin’s taste, but he keeps it on anyways. He knows Brittany is one of your favorite artists.

“So,” he starts, beginning to strike up a conversation. “Twenty one, huh?”

You nod, as you pick up the dish sponge in front of the sink.

“Yeah. Legal drinking age— thank god.” You chuckle, remembering all the times that Anakin had brought you alcohol when you wanted some but couldn’t buy it.

“You’re growing up so fast,” he inquires. You hear rustling behind you— he must be moving around the kitchen. “Not a little girl anymore… ‘s really starting to freak me out.”

“I guess so,” you laugh.

“Time flies.”

It’s quiet after that, for a moment. But something creeps up your neck, like Anakin’s eyes are burning through the back of your skull.

You can feel his presence moving closer to you.

Closer… closer.

And with wide eyes, you feel his breath on the back of your neck.

When did he get so close?

Anakin can’t help but stare at your behind as he watches you— your body is absolute stunning, your thighs soft and absolutely kissable. He loves watching the gap in between your legs as you shift from foot to foot. Loves watching and imagining what your pussy must look like. Probably so wet, so tight underneath that skimpy little outfit. His cock aches at the thought.

He’s feeling bold, now. He doesn’t know why — maybe because he saw his wife leave in a random car earlier that morning, or maybe because he saw the explicit pictures on her phone sent to another man the night before that had caused him to get extremely wasted. But either way, his fingertips reach up and graze your hip.

You exhale sharply, his touch setting off fireworks on your skin.

“It’s different now, isn’t it?” You say, and the insinuation in the question is obvious.

Anakin’s fingertips continue to brush your hips, and then slowly— he wraps his arms around you. Hugging you from behind, pressing his face into your neck and his obvious hard on against your ass.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. White hot heat licks up your spine at his gruff voice. “…very different.”

You know it’s fucked. You know it’s wrong. You know he’s fifteen years your senior, you know that he’s married, and you know that he’s been a family friend for years.

But something is tempting you to turn around.

Call it instinct, but your body adjusts to come face to face with the older man. He was closer than you thought he would be. His lips are almost grazing yours. Anakin’s got a look on his face that can only be described as holding back. His eyes shine with desperation and lust.

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s a sentence that seems to be more of a beg than a question. You can’t help but nod. And slow, like an awaiting storm, his lips are on yours— and that slowness soon gives way to electric sparks and teeth and tongue. His arms wrap around your waist, covering your body with his much wider one. He tastes like cigarettes and booze.

Your body is shoved against the sink. Anakin’s tongue rubs against the roof of your delicious, wet mouth. He can’t get enough. He kisses you and kisses you until lips feel bruised.

You savor this feeling, of him using your mouth as his own personal meal. And you fucking love it. No amount of guilt in your body can outweigh the neediness you have for him. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you part your legs so he can rest his hips against you. His jeans catch on your skirt— the flimsy material lifts up past your thighs. He follows the expanse of your legs and takes sight of your pink lacy underwear. Its cute, Anakin thinks, and his thumbs are about to pull them down and ravage you.

But you’re interrupted. Because as quick as lightening, Anakin’s phone is blaring out it’s loud call ringtone.

Jumping back, you and him are both surprised. He huffs, wiping at his kiss bitten lips as he makes way to pick up his phone.

The caller id reads “Padme”.

And fuck, you want to kill yourself right now. Of course, it has to be her of all people.

You hate her.

Anakin is quick to answer, and you can’t hear anything but a distraught voice on the other line.

“Padme? What is it?” His voice is laced with concern, but he lets out a breath when she yells something else. He sighs, his eyes glancing at your for a quick second as he rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Fuck. Okay, okay! I’ll come get you, just— stay there, alright?”

He hangs up with a groan, and turns to you.

“It’s just— Padme. Being Padme. She crashed the car… again. She’s fine, though.”

Unfortunately. You want to say. But you bite your tongue.

And just like that, the tension between you and Anakin goes back into hiding once again.

—

Friday comes quicker than you expect.

Your father and mother wake you up with your favorite breakfast, and you pick out your birthday outfit. It’s a pink dress with puffy sleeves, and you’ve been wanting to wear it for this occasion for months. Your birthday cake is your favorite flavor and decorated— of course— with hello kitty plastered on the frosting.

Your mother gushes at your dress, deciding to take many, many, many pictures of you. But you don’t complain— you’re grateful of all the decorations that she’s put up for you. They suit your taste.

You would’ve invited your friends but you figured this would be a family only type gathering. You may have a second party reserved just for them later.

It’s not long before your relatives arrives. Five o’clock on the dot, your cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents have all showed up. You open a few presents, have a good time, have some shots for the first time in front of your family. It’s fun.

But he still hasn’t showed up.

Looking at the clock— half past six now— you can’t help but be disappointed and upset. Anikan promised he would be here!

Your gut starts to churn with different anxieties. What if it was because of that moment back in his kitchen? What if he never wants to speak to you again?

But then, there he is. You hear the familiar roar of his black convertible outside— and your heart instantly soars.

He comes in a bit disheveled, as if he had rushed to get here, with a band tee and black jeans on. The way he still dresses like a young and corrupted boy amuses you— and also turns you on just a little bit.

He smiles when he sees you, and of course you smile right back. You’re so thankful he didn’t make Padma tag along with him— that would completely ruin this entire day.

“Hey, kid,” he says, as he pulls you in for a hug. His fingers trail down past your lower back and graze your ass, though know seems to notice.

“Hey, ani.”

“Happy birthday.” He congratulates you.

You thank him, and his eyes linger on yours for a bit too long as he speaks.

“You look nice.”

The butterflies tingle in your tummy again.

“So do you.”

And after that, it’s not long before everyone else recognizes his arrival and your dad is sweeping by and pulling him into one of his conversations.

As the night goes on, more of your family members slowly begin to leave. You prefer it this way; your judgy aunt Hilda was becoming way too much for you to bear right now. You’re sitting on the living room couch with your mom when she asks you to go and get her bag from the kitchen.

And when you go into the room, Anakin is there. And not only that, but he’s alone. He’s leaned up against your refrigerator drinking a beer.

Your eyes lock with his, and he follows the outline of your curves as you pick up your mom’s bag.

“Everyone leaving?”

His voice rings out through the room, piercing the awkward silence. You shrug, becoming intensely concentrated on the granite countertops all of a sudden.

“It’s late.” You reply. And then, in a smaller voice, “You were late.”

He sighs, and you look back to see him running his hands through his dark locks of hair. He looks frustrated.

“I know, honey. Im sorry. I had work, you know that. And… Padma’s been giving me a rough time.”

“When isn’t she?”

It isn’t meant to come off as snarky as it does, but your comment has Anakin huffing out a breath of air.

“Don’t give me attitude, okay? Im here, aren’t I?” He moves beside you, a look of guilt flashing across his face. You don’t say anything— you simply look at him with those eyes. Those pretty, doe like eyes that Anakin can’t bring himself to stop looking into. His eyes trail down to your lips.

“We should talk,” He says. “About..last weekend.”

You really don’t want to. That’s all you can gather right now. You half heartedly take your mom’s bag into your grasp and gesture towards it.

“I have to go give this to my mom,” you mutter. “See you around, Anakin.”

—

The night is over, but Anakin still hasn’t left. You wouldn’t expect him too, though. He stays over late once or twice a week sometimes to chat with your father. You’ve showered, gotten rid of the pesky hairdo that had taken you hours to do and was so frustrating the whole night but still was worth it anyway, and painted your toes a fresh, hot pink. You’re extremely happy to have your nightgown on, now. That dress was very tight.

Your bedroom door is open, but you don’t mind it. You can hear the sound of a football game from downstairs as you read one of your favorite magazines. Too busy wondering which breaking bad character you are through a printed out quiz in the booklet, you don’t even realize Anakin is at your door until he knocks.

It makes you jump, and when you whirl around to see who it is your bones almost jump out of your skin.

“You scared the shit out of me!” You exclaim. You slam the magazine down onto your vanity, and Anakin chuckles.

“Sorry.”

His footsteps approach you, but not before they’re moving so he can close your door shut. You become drastically nervous now that he’s alone with you. He must’ve made up some excuse about having to go to the bathroom so he could sneak up here.

“What are you doing in here, Ani?” You question feebly. He shrugs, taking a seat on your silky pink bed.

“What? Do I have to have an excuse to see the birthday girl?”

You shyly turn back to face your Vanity mirror. You begin to concentrate on brushing your hair. In the reflection you can see that Anakin is watching you.

“We both know that’s not why.” You reply quietly.

“I guess you’re right,” Anakin agrees. “Maybe it’s because I want us to continue where we left off. ”

Face flushing, you baffle yourself by throwing out an unintentionally disgusting line.

“So you wanna do me in my bedroom while my dad is downstairs? Is that it?”

Anakin smirks, amused, leaning back and seeming cocky. He doesn’t say anything, but you know that the answer is yes.

You turn around, watching this older man manspreading on your bed. Against your better judgement you decide to get out of the chair and sit beside him.

He smiles fondly at the closeness. His fist closes around something in his pocket.

“I got you something.” He says. “Your present. Open your hand.”

It’s a scary request, because Anikan has played tricks on you before by telling you this. Sticking a whole snake in your hand one time and making you cry for hours on end after is proof of how much of an asshole he can be sometimes. But he seems to be genuine, and this is your birthday present, so you hold out your hand for him to take.

He pulls out a box. Anyone could recognize it as one that has jewelry inside the packaging. And you were right. Because when you open it, you’re blessed to see a beautiful set of diamond earrings encrusted with your initials.

You gasp, picking them up and admiring them with excitement.

“Thank you so much, Ani!”

Your gushing over the present makes Anakin’s chest swell, and he’s surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug.

It’s been a while since Anakin has been hugged like this. Padme hasn’t touched him in months, or shown him any type of affection. Surprised but pleased, he’s quick to return it, his big arms wrapping around your waist and burying his face in your neck. The smell of your natural scent and strawberry perfume fills his nostrils. He pulls away after a moment. You see the wedding band on his finger, and it brings reality back to you.

“Where’s Padme?” You ask slowly, questionably, but still genuinely curious.

He doesn’t seemed angry by the question, but Anakin’s mouth forms into a thin line.

“Out.” he states. “Probably fucking some random guy she met on tinder.”

“She doesn’t deserve you,” You say, and frown, hand reaching out to touch his bicep. “You’re so nice, and she’s so mean to you. I hate her.”

“Don’t say that. You’re too nice to hate anybody.”

“But it’s true!” You exclaim. “I hate her.” And then, quietly. “She has you and I don’t… ‘S not fair.”

Anakin doesn’t like when you get sad, and he especially doesn’t like when you remind him of that fact.

“I’m not hers, y/n.” He replies, and it’s the truth. His feet move closer to your angry form. “I never have been.”

“Then why are you still with her? Why aren’t you with me?”

“How do you expect me to be with you, y/n? What do you think everyone would say?”

It’s actually a good point, but you dont want to think about that right now.

His arms wrap around your waist, and his face finds the crook of his neck as he breathes you in. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling, your pink curtains, anything but him.

“I want you,” he whispers to you. You try so hard not to look at him. “I want you so bad, angel.”

“You don’t know what you want, Anakin.”

“Fifteen years older than you and I don’t know what I want?” He scoffs, his lips forming into a thin line. “I know what I want.”

His voice takes a much darker turn then, something twinged with arousal and feral possession. “I want to bend you over your vanity and pound my cock into you until I can’t see straight. I want to kiss you, hold you… I’ve wanted it since you were nineteen years old. Cmon, sweets. Why don’t you let me in?”

Let me in. You shiver, and your clothes become unbearably uncomfortable on your body.

“I don’t know, Ani..”

“It’s okay, baby.” He coos, comforting. “Why don’t you let uncle Ani give you the second part of your birthday present, huh? Cmon, let me make you feel good.”

Its once again, truly fucked.

But with the way he’s holding you now, with the words spilling from his lips in that tone.. god, your knees are buckling. You sigh, and mindlessly you begin to run your hands down his body.

“I don’t want you to ever mention Padme to me” you reason with him, as your hands circle his waist. “Ever. Only ever talk about me.”

“I won’t mention her. She’s dead to me.”

You contemplate more deals to make, and then pout. “And I want to be paid for all that cleaning I did last week!”

“Done.”

It’s insane how quickly he agrees to what you want. But alas, he does.

And when his lips press against yours for a second time, you can’t resist falling into him and finally giving in.

To Anakin, you taste like your chapstick— he doesn’t know what flavor it is, but he wants to figure it out soon so he can buy it for himself and always have that familiar sweetness on his mouth. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s desperate, practically consuming you with a neediness he has never felt for anyone else. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip and you feel his tongue enter the warm canal of your mouth. Mewling and pulling yourself away, you press your half naked body against him and begin to trail kisses down his neck.

“Wanna suck you…” you whine. “but—your house— not here..”

Your hands grope his thighs, then one of them moves up and takes hold of his awaiting bulge. He’s big, and you can tell by how fat he feels in your palm already. He lets out a moan, pressing himself further into you and breathing against your cheek, “Yes, here.”

And so be it. You know once Anakin decides something, it’s going to get done. If he wants it, you’ll give it to him. You drop to your knees in an instant, previous request forgotten, pawing at the confines of his jeans and unbuckling his belt. He watches you through hooded eyelids, watches the way your mouth practically drools as you pop the button on his fly and unzip him. His briefs are almost cute. They have little looney toons characters on them. Scoffing and letting out a giggle at the sight of these on a thirty six year old man, who probably knew he was gonna get laid, you look up at him.

“Nice underwear.”

“Shut up,” he groans, gripping your hair with his big hands. “Just suck my cock, baby. C’mon, please?”

Slick forms and leaks down your thighs at his words. Jokes forgotten, you pull the silly material down and his aching cock springs free. Slapping against his stomach, all big and thick with a patch of brown hair at the base, you can see a drop of precum beading on the tip. Your thumb brushes over the spot and smears the creamy liquid around the head of his cock. He exhales sharply, his grip on your hair tightening.

“Shit,” he hisses, eyes shutting closed at the feeling of your hands.

“Ani,” you breathe. Your tongue licks a stripe up his cock, licking up the dribbles of fluid you had just smeared. You lick your lips with need. “You taste so good.”

“Yeah?” He bucks his hips against your face, watching how you greedily slurp his cock into your mouth. “Look at you, baby. Such a needy girl.”

You hum around him, making sure to breathe so the man doesn’t strangle you with his fat cock. The smell of his arousal invades your senses, and your head gets fuzzy. You down him all the way to his base— pressing your nose against the hair there, you almost pass out from how good it all is. He smiles, watching how easily you submit to him. He begins to thrust shallowly into your mouth.

“So fuckin’ good, angel. ” He grunts. “Take it this isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked? Shit— too good at it to not have been dicked down or throat fucked at least twice.”

You moan around him, knowing it’s true. But all the men you’ve hooked up with, they’ve always been older, brunette, with tattoos and an interest in ratty band t shirts— all of them have looked like Anakin. They’ve always looked like Anakin.

Looking down at you, Anakin’s gaze is hypnotized by your glossed lips moving up and down on his cock. His balls slap against your chin at a rapid pace, his cock aching for a warm release. He thinks about what you look like underneath that dress, thinks about how you’re such a fucking bitch for making him give into his raw and primal sensations like this.

“Don’t think you need to call me Anakin anymore, baby,” he inquires, with a growl grazing his plump lips. “Fuck… think you need a daddy, instead. One that’ll actually discipline you—“ he yanks on your head when you try to lift up and get some air, forcing you back down on him. “— and not let you act like a fuckin’ brat. Do you like tempting married men all the time like this, huh? Do you like tempting all of your dad’s friends? Don’t lift your fucking head up, baby, ‘m not done…”

Whining against his cock, your hand moves down against your clit. His degradations are making you desperate to reach your peak— and as fucked up as it is, yes, you do want to call him daddy, want him to take care of you and always keep your throat as his own personal fleshlight for his aching prick. His grip on your hair is causing blinding pain but it doesn’t matter.

As long as you please him.

He finally pulls you off of him, after a moment. Your chin is caked with drool, your eyes watery and tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re gasping, finally gulping in air after being smothered for so long.

“Breathe, honey,” Anakin murmurs, sweet despite his initial angry throat fucking. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Breathe for me.. there you go. Good girl.”

Relaxing against his thighs, you’re unbearably hot.

“Daddy..” you cry against him, wrapping your arms around his thick thigh. He frowns.

“Too much?” He asks, concerned. “Do you wanna stop? Or we could take a break..”

His caring demeanor makes your heart clench, and you can feel the tears actually stream down your cheeks now. No one has ever cared for you like this.

But as overwhelmed as you’re feeling, your pussy aches like no other and if you stop for even a millisecond you think you’ll die. You shake your head.

“No, daddy.“

He looks down at you, brows furrowed, and he nods.

“Okay, pretty. Cmon, stand up.” He gestures for you to get onto your feet, and when you ask why, he leans in close to your ear and gestures to your large vanity.

“I wanna fuck you.” He coos gently. “Wanna bend you over, right there. Can I?”

You nod as you pick yourself up on wobbly legs. You fall into him, allowing him to guide you over to the large table. He bends your pretty body over it, your ass in the air.

Anakin’s fingers play with the hem of your night. He loves it on you, thinks the color is so sweet and hypnotizing, but it has to come off or he thinks he’ll go crazy. He lifts up the fabric, yanking the material off to reveal yourself to him. Your cunt is exposed, all puffy, creamy, and slick. Anakin takes note that you aren’t wearing underwear and that your ass is almost too perfect. His hand comes down to lightly smack one of your cheeks. You whine, backing yourself up against him.

“Like a fuckin’ porn star,” he groans. “Body like a fuckin’ porn star, dollface. It’s perfect. And no panties? Sweetheart, you’re a dream.”

His finger ghosts over your swollen clit, and your hips buck against him desperately.

“Thank you, daddy. Wanted to be ready for you. Knew I wouldn’t be able to stay way if you started touching me..”

He smiles, his fingers spreading your slick across your button and down to your slit. He slips a finger inside, and you gasp a little bit. He rubs against your walls with his long digits, and he hits a certain spot that has your thighs crushing his hand. A smile forms on his face.

“Already?” He chuckles as he watches your desperation, rubbing against that spongy spot inside you. Your legs quiver. “Have you ever even been fingered before?”

“N-N-“ you pause, as he slips in another finger beside his first one. He begins to thrust rapidly, a burn forming in your core but nonetheless it feels fucking amazing. “No, no guy’s ever wanted to.”

“How the fuck could they not want to?” Anakin scoffs, baffled. Your wetness coats his fingers in creamy strings as he pulls them in and out of you. “Jesus, you’ve really been needing me. Huh, baby?”

“Always need you,” you whine. You’re close already; it’s insane how much Anakin’s touch affects you. Your wetness makes a loud gushing sound as he continuously finger fucks you. After a moment there’s rustling behind you, and Anakin’s fingers leave you. You whimper, but it’s not long before you’re moaning again when Anakin drops to his knees.

You’ve always dreamed of his tongue; watched how it looked poking his bottom lip, when he rubbed the inside of his cheek and made a noticeable bulge. And now, spreading your pussy lips with his strong hands, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to dive into your drenched cunt.

You gasp, his tongue beginning to draw harsh circles on your clit and then go back down to your tight hole. He pushes the muscle in as far as it can go, feeling against your walls. He practically whines as he does it— never in his life, not even with the woman he had decided to marry ten years ago, has he ever tasted a pussy this good. His cock is still out and rubbing against your calf, all wet and red and hard.

And after he makes you cum, he intends to split you in half with it.

He begins gliding his tongue over your clit again, and shoves his fingers back inside of you. Working you over and over, you can feel that you’re about to reach your peak. You can’t even say anything— his tongue is too perfect, too wet and warm against your aching bundle of nerves. The only thing that can leave your lips is his name as you cream all over his handsome face. You ride your high out with your hand behind you, burying itself in his black hair.

Breathing heavily, Anakin moves back up to grab your neck and turn your face towards his. He kisses you, passionate and with something else you can’t quite place. He grinds his cock against your lower back.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he grunts, as he lifts one of your legs up onto the vanity’s surface. It gives him easier access, and he bumps his tip up against your entrance. “You okay with that?”

You nod instantly.

At your confirmation, Anakin breaches your hole and pushes in slow.

It hurts at first. You’ve taken cock but never any as big as his. He holds your leg with one hand and your hip with the other. You can feel every ridge, every vein as he breaks you apart on him. Your head is down and the vanity digs into your skin, but it doesn’t matter because the way that Anakin holds you makes you feel safe, protected. As if your entire family isn’t downstairs, as if he isn’t taking you like a cheap whore in your childhood bedroom, while his wife is taking a ride in the car that he bought for her.

But you don’t think about that. You just close your eyes, bite your lip, and gratefully accept the birthday present beginning to pound your guts.

#Anakin Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker x reader #Anakin Skywalker x fem! reader #Anakin Skywalker x bimbo! reader #Modern! Anakin Skywalker #Dbf! Anakin Skywalker #Neighbor! Anakin Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker smut #Star Wars #Hayden Christenen #anakin skywalker fanfic

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cupidseok · 3 months

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hiii, do you think you could write about how riize would confess to their partner? the members are soo different from each other so i really wonder how it’d be for each member!

how riize would confess

AUTHOR'S NOTE happy early valentines to everyone seeing this <3 posting this early as i'll be away for cny,, happy cny to those celebrating too !

🩰 — SHOTARO invites you to his dance practice

shotaro who was over the moon when you told him that you thought he looked the coolest when he was dancing. so he decided to ask you to come watch him practice for his upcoming performance. he has never invited someone over to watch him dance before. dance was something he held so close to his heart.

he wants to impress you so badly :( but because he was nervous, he didn’t do well. you questioned him when you noticed how shotaro looked so tense and stiff. you knew shotaro was an amazing dancer, so you were concerned that he wasn’t feeling well.

“i’m nervous because someone i like is watching me.”

🗒️ — you find a post-it note on your desk from EUNSEOK

ever since you and eunseok have been assigned as seatmates, he has never stopped doodling little doraemons on the corners of your notebooks and worksheets. even when you slapped his hands away and asked him to stop ( because you actually wanted to pay attention ! why was he disturbing you >:( ) he would only softly laugh at you before proceeding to doodle on post-it notes and then passing them to you at the end of class.

one day, his doraemon looked a little different !! it had a little speech bubble that said, “i like you.” your heart almost stopped when you read it, but you knew eunseok liked to play little pranks on you, so you just ignored him.

“why are you not replying to my doraemon ? do you not like me ?”

proof that eunseok is picasso reincarnated :

📓 — SUNGCHAN has made a scrapbook for you

“for you,” sungchan mutters as he shoves a scrapbook in your hands. it definitely wasn’t the prettiest scrapbook you’ve seen; the pages were unevenly cut ( was that a coffee stain ? ), the photos were haphazardly glued and the stickers were plastered without any regard to a colour scheme.

hugging the scrapbook to your chest, you knew he probably spent weeks or even months on this, pouring his heart out on each and every page. jung sungchan was built for sports, not arts and crafts. you could tell by the remnants of glue stuck on his fingertips and specks of glitter under his left eye. but you, you were built for arts and crafts. and it touched you that he was willing to step into your world.

“if the time and effort i spent on the scrapbook isn’t enough to show my love for you, i’ll say it verbally too. i love you.”

💌 — you've received a love letter from WONBIN

heart pounding, cheeks flushed, tightly clutching his love letter, so many thoughts were rushing through wonbin’s head. was the twenty-fifth draft better ? his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recall what he wrote on each draft. no time to think; you were here already.

you flashed him a soft smile and his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red ( he felt like he was burning up ). “hey wonbin, why did you ask to meet m-” he swiftly pressed the now slightly crumpled love letter into your palm and quickly retreated before you could even respond. he couldn’t bear to see your reaction.

hi, this is wonbin. i like you, if it wasn’t already obvious enough. and i’m so sorry if this letter shocked you; i just needed to get it off my chest…

☀️ — SEUNGHAN brings you on a picnic

you remind seunghan of the sun. you were bright and burning like the sun at noon; your ambition was something he greatly admired. however, he wished you’d stop burning yourself away. that was his job – to keep you from shining too brightly and giving too much of yourself away. you were also soft and gentle like the sun in the morning, always willing to care for others and always so kind and forgiving to those who do not deserve it.

but when you’re seated next to him on the red and white checkered mat, he concludes that you remind him the most of the sun during the golden hour. beautiful, warm and fleeting. except he wishes to stay by your side forever.

“the sun is setting so fast.”

“it is, isn’t it.”

“i wish the sun would never set. i don’t want our time together to come to an end.”

🐵 — SOHEE gifts you a cute memento

“monchhichi !” sohee looks up from his book at the call of his nickname. ah, you were here to disturb him again. “what are you doing ?” you peeked over his shoulder. his heart almost fell out at the close proximity. did you truly have no idea of the effect you had on him ? or were you doing this on purpose ?

“i have something for you.” sohee stuffs his hand into his backpack, digging around. he pulled a monchhichi keychain and dangled it in front of your face. “monchhichi !” you let out a gasp of surprise. “did you really buy this for me ?”

“i’m going back to my hometown for a couple of weeks. i got it in case you’ll miss me.”

how monchhichi looks like just in case anyone doesn't know :

🎧 — ANTON has sent you a mp3 file

anton <3

hi :) i made this for you. attached – mp3 file.

you sat down in front of your computer, still drying your wet hair. you had seen his message before you showered, but you felt too nervous to open it right away. heart fluttering in anticipation, you clicked on the file he sent.

folder 1 : songs i wrote for you

folder 2 : a playlist of songs that reminded me of you

folder 3 : my message to you

mouse hovering over folder 3 after you’ve listened to folders 1 and 2, you thought that anton was truly an angel sent from heaven. to love someone so deeply, to compose a song for them, to make a playlist for them.

a robotic computer voice read out, “folder 3, my message to you. now playing.”

your surroundings slowly fading as you focused on anton’s voice, “hi. you’ve probably listened to the other two folders already, right ? if you haven’t, you better listen to them first before continuing…”

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thelargefrye · 4 months

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Welcome to Lost Paradise: February Filth Fest the 2024 tour featuring artist ATEEZ and Y/N. Throughout the month of February, the artist will perform a concert each day around a certain theme. this is ensure that each show of the tour is different from last one and that everyone gets a personalized experience.

PERFORMERS : ATEEZ + Y/N

GENRES : SMUT

WARNINGS : LANGUAGE, MATURE THEMES, SMUT, EACH CHAPTER WILL HAVE ITS OWN WARNINGS // READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED

want to join the tour ? check this out here !

KEEP UP WITH THE LATEST SHENANIGANS ON TOUR WITH Y/N. the master list for each day is under the cut.

day one : " getting the vip treatment from hongjoong " ( deepthroating )

day two : " broke up with my douchebag ex that cheated on me ... thanks hwa and joong for keeping me company " ( cheating / creampie )

day three : " mirror mirror on the wall, who's the hottest of them all and why is it yeosang? " ( mirror sex )

day four : " mingi dressed up as a cowboy for today's show ... anyone want to save a horse and ride a cowboy? no? just me? " ( public sex )

day five : " where did hongjoong get those blindfolds ? " ( auralism / sensory deprivation )

day six : " ugh , jongho looks so good today 😩 " ( dacryphilia )

day seven : " who knew yunho was a peeping tom when it came to me and woo " ( voyeurism )

day eight : " wooyoung you craaaaaazzyyyyy . . . i like it " ( experimental / nipple play )

day nine : " i miss sleeping with seonghwa . . . WAIT NOT LIKE THAT " ( long distance sex / praise )

day ten : " i will literally quit my job to start an onlyfans RIGHT NOW ! don't test me choi san " ( hate fucking )

day eleven : " i wanted to sleep but yunho said no 🙁 " ( somnophilia )

day twelve : " do you think san and yeosang have a mommy kink ? cause they acting like my mommys right now " ( mommy kink )

day thirteen : " oof– seonghwa can guard me ANY DAY with that uniform of his " ( uniform )

day fourteen : " yes , it is i – your favorite goddess " ( threesome / ritual )

day fifteen : " n e ways jongho can degrade me any day of the week " ( femdom / degradation )

day sixteen : " mingi looks a little cold . . . i'm gonna help him get warm " ( cockwarming )

day seventeen : " hongjoong is currently the bane of my existence and so annoying " ( body worship )

day eighteen : " WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME SEONGHWA WAS SO BIG THIS IS ILLEGAL " ( size kink )

day nineteen : " any screaming you hear tonight from me is thanks to yeosang " ( masturbation / edging )

day twenty : " what is this ? the addams family ? " ( soft dom-sub / roleplay )

day twenty - one : " tonights concept is birth of venus with yunho " ( aphrodisiacs / overstimulation )

day twenty - two : " i like dragons . . . LOOKING AT YOU JONGHO AND HWA " ( double penetration )

day twenty - three : " mingi , you cannot be sexy and soft at the same time . please my heart " ( breeding kink )

day twenty - four : " woo is literally that one kinky sticker that says something like ' don't make fun of me i'll cum ' and i think that says a lot about the both of us " ( pegging / feminization )

day twenty - five : " me and seonghwa were just watching a movie before san crashed movie night lol " ( free use / spit play )

day twenty - six : " peach and bowser who ? sorry i only know me and san " ( tentacle sex )

day twenty - seven : " it's you " ( cuckolding )

day twenty - eight : " wow , wooyoung can get feral sometimes 🫠 " ( predator-prey play / strength kink )

day twenty - nine : " happy birthday to me i guess 🥳 " ( gangbang )

smalls note : just a reminder that anyone is free to join february filth fest! make sure to tag me and topaz (sanjoongie) and use the tag #joongfryefff24! also this is my personal master list for the event and not the official post which is linked above.

credits : header template is by storm studio's on canva.

#📽 ─ series .#lost paradise : fff.#joongfryefff24

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piakae · 2 months

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babys-breath ☆— k. jungwon

synopsis ➔ jungwon decides to make a bouquet for you.

pairing ➔ florist!jungwon x fem!reader

genre ➔ fluff!!!

word count ➔ idk why i put this here

warnings ➔ stressed jungwon, incest NOT BETWEEN THEM OMG

a/n ➔ can’t spell jungwon without win. or whatever

The oak wood table with splinters and thorns sticking out of it rests under Jungwon’s gloved hands, flowers of all shapes, sizes, and shades popping out of various baskets around him. His laptop, that was over decorated with brand stickers, was displaying an unknown website’s article about flower’s meanings and messages.

You’d think he knew all about it, working as a florist and all. But when he curated custom orders and new arrangements for the week, he either copied photos or did exactly what the customer wanted.

Something about this arrangement caused a drop of sweat to appear, his fingers to rake through his already messy hair, and hands to shake with uncertainty.

It was for you.

Only yesterday were you watching a romcom in class, fangirling over the beautiful bouquet that the male lead gave to the female lead, all while Jungwon was critiquing the colours and choice of flowers that the man chose.

The boy on the screen, his name was Tim, totally blew his first confession, something Jungwon had visually cringed at.

You blow some hair out of your eyes, the strands distracting you from the drama, also leaning in closer to the screen. Jungwon’s cologne tricked you into thinking that’s how the male lead smelt, and the smell of your shampoo tricked Jungwon into thinking that’s how the female lead smelt.

‘Tim, I told you that we can’t be together.’

‘Why? Tiffany, you are the only one for me.’

‘Tim–‘

‘Tiffany, please–‘

You both inch closer, practically connected at the hip.

‘We’re cousins, Tim!’

Jungwon smiled at the memory of your disgusted face, deciding that he needed to get this bouquet over and done with before the sun went down, hoping to get it to you that afternoon. He let out an anxious sigh and eyed the several flowers surrounding him, feeling like he was about to be ransacked by some daisies and roses.

His eyes shined against the sunset cutting through the stores windows, a perfect bouquet held in front of him. It was the fifth one he made. First was too yellow, second was too big. Third was just sad (he then decided to buy a coffee), fourth was too happy. Fifth was insanely large.

This one was perfect. Yellow, orange, pink, white flowers perfectly clustered and spread, wrapped in newspaper because he ran out of plastic wrap and tissue paper on his fourth try. Jungwon bit his lip, nodding his head in pride.

He grabbed his bag with his fresh clothes, locked the store, then unlocked it because he forgot the bouquet, then locked it again.

“Jungwon?” Your voice rings out, pausing him in his steps. He shoved the bouquet behind him and looked up at you nervously. Fiddling with the stems behind him, he turns.

“Hey Y/n.” As you look him up and down, never seeing him in his uniform before, he suddenly realised he may have others things to be concerned about. “I’ve just- uh- finished my shift.”

You seemed to be returning from the library, still clad in your school uniform. Still beautiful to him.

You nod with a small smile, leaning to peak behind him. A baby’s breath flopped down, as did you smile.

“Are those flowers for someone?”

“What flowers?”

“The ones behind your back?”

He looked over his shoulder to the bouquet, and put his lips into a thin line. Your hair had perfectly fallen, one piece of it in your face that you promptly blew away. It reminded him of the drama, your concentration, your reaction to the disastrous confession. He did not want to be the Tim in this situation, especially the cousin part.

“These… are for you.”

You blinked, “What?”

“You liked the bouquet from that drama we were watching, the one with the cousins- you know how it was like terrible and weirdly incest-“

“-Yes! Yes I know, Won.”

He sighed and smiled, “So I made you this.” Jungwon brought it out from his back and nervously darted his eyes between the flowers and your reaction. A soft smile crept up onto your eyes, a shade of pink painting your cheeks.

“Thank you Jungwon.”

You stepped towards him and took the bouquet, smelling them, eyes glittering.

“This is amazing. You’re way better than Tim.” Your heart thumped at his laughter, and Jungwon looks down to where you’ve slipped your fingers with his too smoothly, blushing like crazy. “And I’ll give you extra brownie points if you pay for my muffin, we’re going to the café.”

@raevyng @enhacolor

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagine #enhypen fic #jungwon #jungwon fluff #jungwon x yn #jungwon drabbles #jungwon x reader #kpop

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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 2 months

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Safe and Sound

“Sweetheart, if you keep running like that, you’re gonna fall,” you advised your overly confident 4 year old as she raced through the squad room. Sure enough, just as she was about to turn the corner, her feet got tripped up and she took a small tumble. Nothing you were worried about but Tony had just happen to see and your daughter knew that if she started crying, he would come running. So that’s what she did.

“Oh no, did that evil carpet trip you?” Tony picked her up off the floor and sat her on his hip, wiping her crocodile tears away. You made your way over, smiling and setting a box of take out on your husband’s desk.

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger Tony. All she wants are those Italian crackers you keep in your desk.”

“Crackahs,” your daughter mimicked, proving your point.

“Ah yes. The cracker tax will be paid, fear not young padawan,” Tony told her while setting her down in his desk chair and opening up his drawer to pull out the little stash. You shook your head and smiled as your toddler happily munched on her favorite snack, dropping crumbs all over Tony’s desk.

“Where’s Jethro?” you asked, also noticing the other missing agents.

“He’s with Bishop questioning some lady who might know where our suspect is hiding. Been gone a while, shouldn’t be too long of a wait.”

Jethro had told you their day was a bit slow since they hadn’t had any new leads so you decided to surprise him for a late lunch. You knew he wouldn’t want to leave the office so you brought food from his favorite Chinese restaurant. Figured you 3 could eat in the conference room or something.

“Oh, would you look at that. Bishops calling me now.” He picked up the phone while sitting at the edge of his desk. “Your ears must be burning Bishop-

He stopped his joking as his face got serious, catching your attention.

“What happened?….Did he get away?…..What hospital?”

You hoped to God they weren’t talking about Jethro as your worst nightmare started playing in your head.

“Alright. I’ll grab Ducky and Palmer and meet you there.”

He hung up the phone and you waited for his next words.

“The suspect was hiding out at the house. He shot Gibbs in the shoulder but he’s fine. They brought him to Sibley Memorial.”

Without another word, you were out of your seat and scooping your daughter up before heading for the elevator.

————

“Where we going mommy?” your little girl asked from the backseat as you drove.

“We’re gonna go see Daddy sweetheart. But we gotta be really gentle when we see him because he just got a big ouchies on his shoulder, ok?”

“Ok. How come Daddy got an ouchies?”

“Sometimes he gets ouchies when he’s working. Remember the ouchie he had on his knee?”

“From the bad guys!” she resolved proudly.

“That’s right. But don’t worry. Daddy got the bad guy.”

“Yay!”

She didn’t ask anymore questions after that thankfully. Sometimes it was difficult explaining Jethro’s job but she actually understood a lot of it, making it easier. She got all the smarts from Jethro you’re sure of it.

Once you arrived, you headed straight for the nurses station.

“Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He’s my husband, I believe he was brought in a little bit ago.”

The nurse typed a bit on the computer before nodding. “Looks like he just came out of surgery. Room 323. Third floor.”

You showed her your ID and received your visitors sticker, your daughter taking it immediately to stick it on herself. Then the two of you made your way through the hospital till you found his room. You were surprised when you saw him out of bed, buttoning up his dress shirt.

“Leaving against medical advice again Jethro?”

He looked up surprised and gave that half grin when he saw you two.

“Daddy!”

Your daughter dropped your hand and raced over to him as he crouched down to her level.

“Remember be gentle honey,” you reminded before she reached out for a hug.

Jethro picked her up easily with his good arm and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

“How’s my princess? You learn anything new at school?”

“We did numbers. And colors!”

“Wow. You are so smart, you know that? You’ll be taking Uncle McGee’s job before you know it.”

You just watched the two of them have their conversation with a smile. She loved talking with her dad. Whether it was about her favorite show or asking him what every one of his woodworking tools did. She was definitely more of a daddy’s girl than mommy’s. But you loved it. You loved the way Jethro’s face lit up everytime he saw her. He could be having the worst day at work and she would be the one to make him crack a smile.

“And mommy got you food,” she continued.

“She did? Well I’m hungry as a bear. And if I don’t eat something soon, I just might eat you!”

She squealed in laughter as he gave her kisses and walked over to you.

“You gave me quite a fright today Mr. Gibbs,” you chastened as he set your daughter down.

“I’m sorry about that Mrs. Gibbs. I’ll try harder not to.”

You two kissed deeply, happy that his injury wasn’t too severe and he was safe.

“Did I hear my daughter correctly when she said you bought me food?” he mumbled against your lips.

“Mm-hm. It’s at the office. Room temperature, just how you like it.”

He chuckled and gave you another kiss before taking your daughter’s hand in his and leading the way out of the hospital.

#gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis fanfiction #ncis #agent gibbs #mark harmon #ncis request #jethro gibbs x reader

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luckybunny555 · 6 months

Text

Secret admirer

You've been receiving strange letters, but they were so sweet and lovely you just assumed someone was too shy to talk to you in person. As you keep entertaining this sweet, secret admirer, you find yourself caught in a dangerous web.

Amber Freeman x GN!/Fem!Reader(no pronouns but for sapphics)

Warnings: creepy behavior, stalking, cursing, if you have trust issues this might be a little "scary"(I'm paranoid so I felt I should put this warning, but writing this didn't make me paranoid so idk), I think that's all

a/n: This is part 1. I'm being fucking delusional here and ignoring all the red flags. No bad ending, alright, I'm not angsty like that

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You never expected something so sweet and innocent to be, actually, very fucked up. But you also never expected to like it, so I guess it wasn't so bad after all, right?

You assume it all started once a mysterious envelope fell to the floor when you opened your school locker. You were late and rushing, quickly grabbing whatever it was and shoving it between your notebooks, not giving it much thought. Maybe you just had forgotten that you put it there, something like that.

When you got home that day, one of your friends asked for a picture of your notes from that class, which reminded you of its existence once you opened the notebook. After sending the picture, you walked over to your bed, sitting with your legs crossed as you observed the envelope carefully, unsure of its content and origin. You checked the front and the back, but found no identifications, only the lovely heart sticker that kept it sealed. You wondered if there would be a signature inside or, if it was a letter, you might've been able to recognize the caligraphy. So, carefully and curiously, you opened it.

What you found surprised you at first. It was a letter, but it seemed... off. Your heartbeats quickened slightly once your eyes met the magazine cut-out letters, making it look like some sort of ransom note. Ignoring the almost audible palpitations of your heart, you started reading the letter. It was curious, and strange, definetely unusual. But it wasn't threatening. And as you read it, it was a relief that it sounded more like a love letter than a ransom note, which gradually steadied your heartbeats.

The correspondent was surely in love with you, and that was clear by the way they wrote about you. So beautifully and genuinely. You were able to tell how attentive and infatuated they were, when they mentioned small details they liked about you, or moments they found you endearing, even if from afar. There was an additional note by the end, written: "PS: if you'd like to write me back, leave a letter between the pages of your favorite book in the library(I've seen how many times you borrow it, I love that book too)". And at the bottom, the closest thing you found from a signature or identification was "- your secret admirer," still in cut-out letters.

When you snapped back to reality, the warmth of your cheeks invaded your senses, and you finally noticed the hint of a smile on your face. Of course, the letter was still strange, and any rational person would throw it away, not entertain it, and if things got worse, go to the police. But in the moment, you were blinded by the flattery. Sure, you knew of some people who find you attractive, but this was beyond superficial attraction. The way the correspondent wrote about you made it evident they weren't attracted simply by your appearance, although your beauty was undeniable. The attention to the details, the specific compliments on your adorable habit of petting every stray dog or cat you find, how you're so kind and always give compliments to strangers, how lovely and heart-warming was your laugh, how you bit your lip when you were really concentrated, or how you brightly smiled at anyone who talked to you. No, you were convinced this wasn't just someone trying to get into your pants. And the idea of someone being so in love with you? You could already feel giggles and butterflies appearing in your belly.

That's how your secret correspondence started. You replied to the first letter, left it in the book as they asked, and just a few days later, there was another envelope in your locker. You never caught the deliverer, but the mystery added to the thrill. Who could this secret admirer possibly be?

You suspected that you had already talked to them, given their compliments on your voice, your laughter, your kindness, your sweetness. But you didn't have enough clues to guess. That's when you decided to ask them more questions about them. "Would you like to meet sometime?" "What do you look like?" "Have we met in person?" "What are your favorite movies?"

But your secret admirer only kept you guessing. They revealed very little about themselves, playfully teasing you for your curiosity every time you pressed to meet them. You didn't entirely mind their hidden identity, though. There was a thrill in not knowing who you were talking to. And by now, it was easy to ignore the part of your brain that alerted you of the dangers of not knowing a thing about your correspondent'sidentity. You were too caught up in the fantasy to consider the dangers. Besides, they were so sweet to you, how could they be harmful?

You should've seen the red flags. They should've scared you off instead of turning you on.

The letters started getting more intense, more obviously creepy. You knew they were stalking you. You knew they observed you at school, and sometimes in other places. You knew they were jealous of you, hated to see you laughing at another person's joke or hugging one of your friends. You knew they wanted you all for themselves. But still, that wasn't enough for you to cut them off.

Why? Well, besides your (terrible) taste for people with red flags, they also were so nice to you. Not only did you receive letters, but they also started sending you gifts. Sometimes a cute bracelet or necklace, an adorable stuffed animal(you told them about your prized collection), something related to your favorite movies or shows. You weren't necessarily materialistic, but the gifts were so thoughtful and attentive, how could you not fall for your admirer even more? And when you needed something, it was quickly provided for you. You weren't sure how, but they always knew when you forgot an item you needed, or when you were craving something for a while, somehow these things would appear to you.

Maybe that's when you started thinking more rationally. It started feeling slightly weird that someone you didn't know knew so much about you that whatever thing you didn't notice, they did. I mean, how could anyone else know you forgot your notebook at school, or that you had been craving your favorite snack all week? The only person this close to you was your best friend, Amber, but come on, she was your best friend. And of course, you didn't entertain this thought for long. It was more probable that you had a creepy stalker. Which was a problem, because now you had your admirer and Ghostface to worry about.

So, you decided it was better to ignore them. You stopped reading the letters, keeping them all sealed in a box under your bed. You stopped sending letters. And the best safety measure you could think of was to confide in your best friend.

You had invited Amber to come over after school. And now the two of you were in your bed, a movie playing on your TV but neither of you watching it. You were lying on your belly on the opposite side of your bed, and you looked over your shoulder to meet Amber's gaze, who was lying with her head on your pillow, her legs resting on your back.

"Can I tell you something?" You ask, already knowing the answer. She was your best friend for a reason.

"Duh," she replies without taking her eyes off her phone. But she meets your gaze once you shift your position, sitting on your knees to face her. Her attention is fully yours now.

"I've been receiving letters from a secret admirer..." you start, and you can't fight the small smile forming in your face, despite your concern about the situation. "For a while now. But they got kinda creepy and now I'm worried."

She leans closer to you, putting her hand on your leg. "Wait, seriously? Are you okay?" She asks, clearly worried about you. You expected that. Knowing her for so long, it was obvious to you how protective and caring she was.

"Yeah, at least for now," you chuckle, but her concerned expression doesn't fade. "I stopped writing to them, and I'm ignoring their letters. Hopefully they'll notice soon and leave me alone. I just... don't want them to hurt me, y'know? Like if I stop answering them, and they come up to me..." You don't finish the sentence, dreading the consequences of that scenario.

"Hey, don't worry, [name]," Amber reassures you, her grip tightening slightly to comfort you. "I'm not letting anyone hurt you," her voice is gentle and soothing, reminding you of how lucky you were to have her in your life.

You really valued her friendship. She was so caring, you had no doubt of her devotion to you. You knew how much she loved you. She always worried about the people you hung out with, always kept an eye on you to make sure you're safe and comfortable, and wherever you went, she followed. Whether it was at parties, or school, or on your walk home, you knew you had her to protect you. She had always been like that. And you loved it.

Maybe that's why you suspected her when questioning your admirer's identity. Or what attracted you to them. Something you liked in her and found in them too. Which is why you were able to let go of them. You thought you'd miss them, and wouldn't resist the urge to write them back. But you had her, and you realized that in time. I mean, did you notice the way she got all worried and protective over you after you told her about the letters?

Oh, you started noticing too much. And you started falling for her.

What a classic, falling in love with your best friend. But who could blame you? She was perfect for you. Sweet, caring, protective, a bit possessive and jealous, but everyone has flaws. And you needed a source of protection and reassurance. Your friend had just been attacked, her sister too, and a guy(who creeped you out, by the way) was murdered. It was scaring the shit out of you. You needed Amber. And she liked that.

The Ghostface attacks made you paranoid. You could barely sleep, you were easily startled, you didn't answer any calls from unidentified numbers in fear it was Ghostface. You wanted to disappear until this mess was over, but life went on.

Amber, as attentive as she always is, quickly noticed the effect these attacks had on you. And her support never changed. You felt safe with her, even when you knew you would still be a target, with or without her company. She had this invincible aura, at least to you, that made you think no one would ever mess with her. And if you had her, no one would lay a hand on you. That logic had always worked, because no weird guys came up to you, and if people flirted with you and got too friendly, she would cut them off in a second. You had nothing to worry about.

That's what gave you the courage to keep living as if everything was normal, at least most of the time. If you weren't around her, you were texting her, or facetiming her. You got even closer to her than you already were. And your poor heart had to deal with that. Your feelings for her, that you tried to ignore for the sake of your friendship, were bubbling up. You started thinking the butterflies you felt in your stomach had started living in there.

[...]

#scream #scream 5 #scream v #scream x reader #scream 5 x reader #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x y/n

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

Note

Hi 👋

So ive had this thought after reading your works, task 141 + könig and anyone else rlly; reaction to y/n just casually taking ppl down like black widow. IE: thighs around head flipping them, casually breaking free while being interrogated, etc.

And y/n is so "whatever" or "you never asked" kinda situation where they don't see the big deal,maybe it leads to them sparring and y/n taking them down (them being on the shorter/average size (5'5) ).

I feel like it'd be absolutely hilarious for some reason

Bahaha I love this, they wouldn’t know what to do 😭😭😭 girl boss for sure

Price 🥃

The first time the Captain saw you break free from your bonds he was beyond gobsmacked. He stared at you wide eyed and chuckled to himself.

You were tied to a chair, mid interrogation, hands behind your back. Your ankles were taped to the legs of the chair. Price was waiting outside to rescue you but as he found you didn’t need rescuing.

The blood from your arm trickled into the tape which held your wrists. The tape became less tacky allowing yourself to wriggle free. Throwing your hands to the floor you whipped your legs behind you, colliding the chair with your captors back. Shattering it, and him.

Pulling off the tape you fixed your hair and flounced out of the room, ‘oh hi Captain!’ You smiled sweetly, ‘shall we?’ You gestured to the way out.

Soap 🧼

Soap first saw your skills during a hostage drill on base. They’d handcuffed you to a pipe on the ceiling, and told you to await your rescue.

Helpless little woman, waiting to be rescued by the tough men. Like fuck you thought. Gaz was assigned as your captor for the exercise, he stood with his back to you. Facing the door, preparing for your rescuers.

Sighing you moaned slightly, Gaz came over to make sure you were ok. Offering your most angelic smile you whipped your legs up to his neck. Your strong thighs applying just enough pressure to make him pass out.

Pulling the pipe off the ceiling you jumped down, undid your cuffs and sat on a chair. Waiting for them. When Soap burst through the door he was gobsmacked. Mouth open. ‘Took your time’ you laughed looking at your watch before walking out the door.

He knew from that moment he HAD to ask you on a date.

Ghost 💀

Ghost took you on the sparring mat, only for a bit of fun. You were 5’3 and he was 6’4. A huge contrast. But you used it to your advantage, scurrying around him and nipping at his ankles like a terrier.

He was getting fed up. Impatient. How did you keep getting one up on him? Eventually to got the Lieutenant on his ass. In front of 141. His eyes widened in the mask as he puffed thick air from his lungs. ‘I didn’t know you could do that!?’

Holding out a hand to him you helped him up. ‘You never asked’ you shrugged, throwing a sickly smile at him. He was blushing under the mask.

Gaz 🇬🇧

Gaz has never forgotten the memory of seeing you wrap your self around a guys neck, and break it. In half. Effortlessly.

‘Ummm what the fuck was that?’ He was beyond shocked. He’d never seen you move like that before. You re-adjusted your hair and waved him off like it was nothing.

‘No. Seriously. How did you know how to do that?’ He scratched the back of his head. Bewildered. ‘I’m in the SAS Gaz, I need to be good at something. Remember when I choked you out during the drill?’ You winked.

He pulled at his collar ‘yeah don’t remind me.’

König 👑

The big man himself. You were all having a friendly competition of who could jump the highest. Of course our 6’10 mountain won. But that was before you.

Whistling to grab the boys attention you sprinted and damn near scaled König, jumping off his shoulder planting the sticker mikes above his.

His blue eyes were wide, perplexed. ‘You little spider monkey!’ He laughed. He scratched his head, he hardly even felt you climb his back.

You climbed up his back again and planted a cheeky peck on his cheek. ‘I like climbing mountains’ you said poking your tongue out.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #john soap mactavish #call of duty ghost simon riley #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig modern warfare #kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick #captain price #captain john price #soap mctavish #headcanon #request

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ckret2 · 9 months

Text

At long last, we get to see: this moment.

Chapter 11 of Human Bill Being The Mystery Shack's Hella Depressed Prisoner, featuring: Mabel giving Bill a ✨beautiful makeover✨—and Stan and Ford almost dying from laughter. And thus begins Bill & Mabel's inevitable befriending. Previous chapters here!

####

Every time Mabel had to use the stairs, she paused to look at Bill sitting in his window.

He never seemed to move.

A few days ago, it was creepy. Now, it was just kind of sad.

Last year, after Mabel and Dipper's parents had heard the whole story about their summer, they'd immediately packed the twins off to therapy—which Mabel didn't think was necessary, but whatever, if it made their parents feel better. (It had taken them some time to find a therapist who would engage with their barely-averted-apocalypse story at face value rather than search for the root of these "delusions.") At their current therapist's office, before each appointment, Dipper and Mabel had to fill out checklists that they gathered were to measure whether they'd come down with a case of depression—Please read the following statements and circle the word that shows how often they happen to you. Never, sometimes, often, always.

She'd filled out these things so many times that she could practically recite the list of statements by memory. Nothing feels very fun anymore. I have problems with my appetite. I have trouble sleeping. I have no energy for things. I feel like I don't want to move. Far be it from her to try to diagnose an evil demon monster space triangle who'd tried to murder everybody she knew, but. Well. You know. Sitting curled up in a window seat, day after night after day, barely moving, barely talking, barely eating... Yikes. She could only guess how he'd answer statements like I feel empty and sad or I feel worthless.

In Mabel's mind, there was a piece of paper. On that piece of paper were the faces of everyone currently living in the shack. Herself, Dipper, Waddles, Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, Soos, Abuelita, and Melody as an honorary part-time resident. Next to each of their faces, there was a sticker, reflecting their current overall mood. Right now, everyone had either a happy face or a flat-mouthed neutral face—not bad, but could be better.

As she looked at Bill, she mentally promoted him at last from "entity haunting the attic" to "temporary resident." She added his face to her imaginary paper. And she slapped a big blue crying sticker next to it.

She wouldn't stand for that. Not even from him. Not under her roof.

####

Today, Bill wasn't even in the window. He'd elected to curl up in a corner of the attic, hiding in the shadows with his stolen blanket. The window was probably too hot. Mabel typically used acrylic yarn, and she knew from experience how quickly Sweater Town could turn into Sweaty Town.

For the first time, Mabel sauntered, quite casually, across the invisible barrier separating the rest of the attic from Bill's nest. She offered her winningest smile and her cheerfullest, "Hey, Bill!"

The Thing Beneath The Blanket gave her a look that, she suspected, could probably be described as deeply suspicious. "Shooting Star."

"Yup! Haha! That's—that's me all right! You got me." Mabel laughed. (This was going great so far. This was very natural.) "So, anyway!" She grabbed one of the couch cushions Bill had been using as a bed, dragged it a little closer to the corner, and plopped down. "This is such a weird coincidence, but one time, I got gum stuck in my hair and had to shave it off! I mean, crazy, right?"

"Uh huh." Bill didn't sound impressed. "Second grade." (And Mabel was uncomfortably reminded of the first time she'd ever seen Bill. I know lots of things.) "Hey, since you brought it up, can I ask you something about that little incident?"

"Uh..." This was what you signed up for, Mabel. You volunteered for a conversation with Bill. You've gotta converse. "Sure, I guess."

He leaned forward, triangle face looming above her. "Did getting gum in your hair change your species? Did you still look like yourself when you shaved it off?" The face bobbed as he pantomiming looking her up and down. "You still look human to me! So what's your point."

Okay, so he'd immediately recognized she was trying to establish common ground, aaand he was throwing it in her face. Great start. "Jeez, don't be so mean! I'm trying to tell you I get it. Not... the species part, but the other part. I wanna help!"

Bill scoffed. "Sure you do."

"Really!"

"Why?"

"Because you're all sad and it's making me sad."

Bill, o wise and ancient being that he was, had heard of "empathy" in a conceptual sense. He was aware that it was a thing that happened to some people. He even knew that it was common among humans. But on some level he kinda sorta felt like it only really happened to mindreaders that didn't know how to establish proper psychic boundaries. He laughed in Mabel's face. "No, seriously! What are you getting out of this."

Mabel decided she had no interest in explaining compassion to an alien mass murderer. "Okay, I want Soos's blanket back. I gave it to him, not you."

"Fine. If you want his blanket back, make me one."

"What? No! Those are our Team Zodiac-That-Defeated-You blankets, you don't get one."

"Didn't you make one for everybody else on the wheel? I'm on the wheel, aren't I?" He pointed at his face. "Bam! There I am, right in the middle! Star of the show! If everyone else deserves a blanket, so do I."

"Why do you even want one? It's a symbol to kill you."

"It's got my face on it! It's not that deep." He crossed his legs and propped his chin in his hand, getting more comfortable. "So do I get to pick the colors? I'll take yellow if that's all you got, but if you get me metallic gold I think I can swing you a favor."

"I'm not making you a blanket," Mable said. "I was thinking maybe a wig?"

Bill shuddered. "Pass."

"Aw, come on! I bet I could find you a really cute wig. Summerween's coming up, I could go to the costume store—"

"Don't even think about it." Bill leaned away from Mabel, back into his corner. She was losing him. "Listen. Kid. Do you think I did this by accident?" He pointed vaguely toward his scalp. "Being stuck in a human body? Disgusting. Being a human and secreting fifteen miles of hair out of a hundred thousand of pores? Infinitely worse."

"Wait, wait, fifteen miles?" Mabel had never considered how long a full head of hair laid out end-to-end would be. "How much hair do I have?"

"Huh." Bill tilted his head consideringly. "How dense is your hair?"

"Super dense. I've broken multiple brushes."

"Could be up to fifty miles."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Whoa."

"And you've got fifty thousand miles of blood vessels," Bill added cheerfully. "Anyway, if you want this blanket back? You won't get it with a wig. All I want is to look..." he formed his fingers into a triangle, thumb to thumb and forefinger to forefinger, and held it over the face on the blanket, "... like this. Now, if you're offering to help me get my real body back—"

"Never in a million years."

"Didn't think so!" Bill retreated fully into his corner again, knees pulled back up under the blanket, like an eel hiding in a hole to await its next prey. "But hey, if you've got an offer that's a step up from the blanket, I'm willing to negotiate."

"Huh." Mabel frowned thoughtfully. Something triangly. Something triangly that was better than a blanket, without helping Bill return to full power.

She got to her feet. "Let's put a pin in this conversation and circle back to it later. I'll come back with some proposals for you to review."

Bill laughed. "Okay, business girl! Have your people call my people. You know where to find me."

Mabel leaped down the stairs three at a time, ideas already forming in her head.

####

"Hey, Grunkle Ford!"

Ford was sitting at the former controls of the interdimensional portal, studying some radar readings; but he glanced up with a smile when Mabel ran out of the elevator. "Mabel. What brings you down here?"

She dragged an office chair up beside Ford, plopped down in it, and spun a couple of times. "I need to ask some questions about Bill!"

Ford's smile faltered. "Ah."

"Last summer, when we were burning all your art of him—"

(Ford winced in embarrassment.)

"—you said he could do some kind of magic with pictures of his face? What's all that about?" She stopped spinning. "Do they give him more power? Can he fire lasers out of them, or...?"

"No, nothing like that, thank goodness. Depictions of his face granted him a different kind of power: the power of knowledge. When he was trapped in the Nightmare Realm, he could tap into our world's collective mindscape and see through drawings of himself as if they were cameras. Ironically, plastering images of his face everywhere to symbolically represent an 'all-seeing eye' is what made him so all-seeing in the first place."

Mabel nodded thoughtfully. "Did you know you talk like one of those experts they hire to explain things in history documentaries?" she asked. "You should be on TV. You'd be good at it."

Ford gave her a confused smile. "Er—thank you."

"So, if Bill's already here, making new pictures of his face doesn't do anything?"

He supposed she was wondering about the zodiac blankets she'd spread around town. "Probably not. At a minimum, he'd have to be in the mindscape to be at the right 'angle' to see through the eyes. As he is now, trapped in a human form?" Ford let out a slow, thoughtful sigh. "It's hard to say for sure, without knowing how he got to be this way or what kinds of powers he's still hiding... but based on everything I've seen so far, I doubt they do anything for him."

"And if somebody put a picture of him on his face, it wouldn't do anything at all! Because that's like, his face. He already has eyes there."

Ford chuckled. "I suppose that's true. It would be like he'd grown a third eyeball, that's all." He paused. Put a picture of him on his face? "Why do you ask?"

Too late; she was halfway to the elevator. "Thanks, Grunkle Ford! I'll see you at dinner!" And she was gone.

####

"What's all this?" Bartholomew asked.

Mabel was dumping a bag of costume makeup and cheap convenience store makeup palettes onto her bed. They sparkled in varying hues of tacky gold glitter. "Art project!" She scooped Bartholomew out of his cradle by Dipper's bed, climbed the rickety ladder to the storage loft over their bedroom, and set him down leaning against a box. "You're on guard duty. Stay quiet and if anything goes wrong, get Dipper."

"How do you expect me to get Dipper? I'm a doll. I can't move."

"Come on, Mew-Mew. You think we haven't noticed that you teleport when nobody's looking?"

Bartholomew paused. "Touché."

Mabel rummaged through her art supplies; put tape, glue, and a couple of flattened cardboard boxes on the bed; added all the yellow crayons, markers, and paints she could find; and finally, satisfied, she ran out of the room. "Bill!"

"Still here."

"I've got the perfect solution. I'm giving you..." Mabel posed, hands on her hips. "A makeover!"

Bill waited for the follow up. There was no follow up. "Heh."

"Laugh now, but before I'm finished, I'm gonna make you more beautiful than your wildest dreams!"

"Kid, with all due respect, your idea of 'wild' taps out where my dreams are just getting started."

"Then I'll just have to up my game, won't I?" Mabel held out her hand. "Just give me that blanket, show me that weird bald head of yours, and let me make it into a canvas for high art! Trust me!"

Bill contemplated her extended hand. Did he trust her? In most situations, he considered trust irrelevant. He expected most people to do whatever they thought would benefit themselves the most; sometimes that meant keeping their word, and sometimes it didn't.

On the other hand. Was he really curious to find out where she was going with this? Yes. And the worst thing she could possibly do to him was make him very slightly more ugly than he already was. And playing along would fill his empty afternoon.

"Okay, kid." He reluctantly handed the blanket over. "You haven't given me a bad makeover so far." (He hadn't actually seen her marker mask, but it never hurt to flatter the person about to paint all over you.) He stood and stretched. "Show me what you've got. But if I don't like it, you owe me a blanket."

"Yes!" She grabbed his hand—his whole arm immediately went stiff—and dragged him toward the bedroom. "Welcome to my salon!"

####

Sure enough, just like Ford had said—when Stan checked Bill's attic nest, there was no sign of him.

Stan didn't like that one bit. Where the hell had their prisoner gotten off to?

As Stan approached the attic bedroom, he could hear Mabel talking: "More glitter?! That's crazay! Okay, here goes! I bet you could pull off such a glam rock look." (That explained where the kids were. He'd been starting to wonder.) "Hold still, I'm gonna try something I saw on a Russian supermodel—"

"Kids," Stan called, "do you know where the demon went?" He opened the door. "Poindexter says he can't find him anywhere, and—"

Mabel was kneeling on the floor, surrounded by the widest variety of makeup brushes and palettes Stan had ever seen. Her fingers and sleeve cuffs were coated in gold glitter and paint.

Kneeling in front of her, with his legs splayed awkwardly and his hands on the floor like he wasn't sure how to lower this body down to Mabel's height, was Bill. His face was liberally coated in acrylic gold paint and amateurishly contoured with a mix of craft glitter and golden eyeshadow. One eye was shut—the eyelashes delicately dusted with more gold eyeshadow to help it blend in—while the other was coated in a layer of mascara so thick it was a miracle his lashes didn't glue shut when he blinked.

And to cap off the gilded absurdity, his face was sticking through a hole in the middle of a cardboard triangle helmet, painted sunflower yellow with bricks shakily traced on in marker. Bill looked like the poor kid assigned the part of "the pyramid" in a fourth grade class play about ancient Egypt.

Mabel and Bill stared at Stan.

Stan stared back.

He covered a snort with a cough. "I'll—I'll tell Ford you've got it handled." He slammed the door.

He let out a bellow of laughter.

Mabel put a hand on Bill's shoulder. "He doesn't understand avant-garde fashion. You look like a million dollars."

"I know," Bill said. "All the same—maybe a hat would class things up a little?"

Mabel reached for a sheet of black construction paper. "You're so right."

####

"Well?" Mabel leaned around Bill, trying to see what he looked like in the full-length mirror. "What do you think?"

Bill stared in the mirror. A horrific abomination of flaking paint, cakey makeup, and taped-up cardboard stared back.

He grinned so wide it cracked his face paint. "I think that's the hottest human being in history."

"Yes!" Mabel pumped a fist into the air.

####

Ford said, "Stanley, what is it?"

Stan wheezed until his lungs ran out of air.

Concerned, Ford leaned across the kitchen table, lacing his hands together. "Did you find Bill?"

"M—Mhmm."

"He hasn't hurt Mabel, has he?" Ford asked, flashing back to their conversation earlier. "Or—or Dipper? Anyone?"

Stan bit his lip and shook his head. Tears of laughter pricked the corners of his eyes.

"Did he... put some kind of laughing curse on you?"

Stan shook his head more emphatically. "H—" He couldn't get one syllable out before he had to choke back his laughter again. He pounded on the table.

Grasping at straws and defaulting to the first worst case scenario he could think of, Ford said, "He hasn't found a way back to his true form, has he?"

Stan let out a noise like a balloon that had been untied and unleashed to fly around the room. "I MEAN—"

"Gooood afternoon, gentlemen!" Beaming brightly enough to rival the sun, twirling an umbrella like a cane, Bill strutted in.

Ford clapped one hand on Stan's shoulder, clapped the other over his mouth, and turned away, shoulders shaking. Stan smacked Ford's arm in sympathetic hysteria.

"I see we're all in high spirits today!" With the brazen confidence of an illegitimate prince marching into a throne room to demand his crown, Bill strolled through the kitchen, barely sparing the Stan twins a glance. Mabel followed behind him, grinning from ear to ear. "I wouldn't mind some spirits, myself." He paused in front of the fridge. "Could someone—?"

As the closest person to the fridge, Ford pulled it open, then turned to watch so he could make sure Bill didn't do anything he shouldn't with the food. This required him to look in Bill's direction. He curled his lips into his mouth and bit down. His eyes watered.

"Finally." Bill hungrily surveyed the inner contents of the fridge, grabbed an armload of condiments, a jar of pickles, and a tub of leftover chicken nuggets, and dumped them on the nearest counter. He tried to reach for a bottle of spoiled corn syrup toward the back of the fridge, banged the sides of his cardboard helmet on the fridge's doorframe, and quickly backed off and felt the corners to make sure they weren't too damaged. He had to turn sideways to reach the bottle without hitting the edges of the fridge. One corner of his mask tipped over a bottle of apple juice. Watching this performance very nearly killed the Stans.

"There." Bill triumphantly set the bottle on the counter, grabbed a can of alphabet spaghetti off an open shelf, and asked, "Where do you have the bowls hidden?" He rapped on one of the cabinet doors with his umbrella.

The sight of the umbrella knocked Ford out of some of his hysteria. "Where did you—?" He snatched the umbrella out of Bill's hands. "No weapons."

Bill gave Ford a withering one-eyed look (Ford suspected his other eye was glued shut with paint), then elected to ignore him. "Shooting Star?"

"They're down here!" Mabel opened one of the base cabinets. Bill retrieved a bowl and started filled it with his condiment haul.

"Okay," Stan said, voice strained with suppressed laughter. "Okay, what—what are we looking at?"

"A masterpiece of cosmetic art," Bill said. Mabel's grin widened.

Ford elbowed Stan across the table. "Do you remember the 'living statue' performers on the Glass Shard Beach boardwalk?" he asked. "The ones who'd paint all their skin and clothes gold—?"

"Oh yeah!" Stan let out a bark of laughter. "That's exactly what he looks like!"

In his bowl, Bill had layered mayonnaise, Tabasco sauce, mustard, sour cream, and maple syrup, and carefully stuck in as many chicken nuggets as he could without the mix slopping over the edges. He got Mabel's help to stick it in the microwave, then turned toward the Stans with a smug grin. "So you agree that I look like a work of art."

"No," Stan said, "they looked like idiots, and so do you."

Bill scoffed. "You don't know anything! You look at a human body, and all you see is a human with things stuck on it. I can look at a human body and see a canvas. I've stripped this vessel of its association with humanity and transformed it into an idol of myself."

Mabel loudly cleared her throat.

"Okay, she did most of the work."

Ford seriously considered the artistic merit of Bill's proposed "human body sans humanity as art material" paradigm. After a moment of deliberation, he said, "You have cardboard taped to your face."

Stan slapped the table. "HA!"

Bill opened a can of alphabet spaghetti, slopped half into a glass, filled the rest with incredibly spoiled corn syrup, and then filled the can with corn syrup as well. The mixes bubbled threateningly. The absolute picture of good cheer, Bill announced, "I'm the most beautiful thing any of you have ever seen. It's just too bad your closed little minds can't enjoy the marvel in front of you." He stirred his toxic alphabet spaghetti concoction with a pickle spear.

Stan watched Bill mix his drink in mild alarm. "What in the world are you making?"

Bill held his wrist over the glass and a knife to his wrist. "A Bloody Mary."

Stan's alarm increased. "No you aren't."

"That's your opinion."

"Where did you get—!" Ford leaned over to snatch the knife out of Bill's hand.

"It was in the fridge, it was sticking out of the leftover casserole!" Bill rolled his eye. "Re-lax! I wasn't pointing it at you." He lifted his drink, nearly poured it into his eye, caught himself at Mabel's shout of alarm, took a sip through the correct hole, then inspected the thick gold lip stain left on the rim. "Huh." He looked at Mabel.

She shrugged. "I could have set the makeup with baby powder, but I thought it might dim some of the sparkle."

"You chose form over function. I respect that." He sipped his drink more carefully.

The microwave went off, Mabel opened the door, and Bill scooped up his condiment-and-nugget stew and both alleged Bloody Marys. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go be handsome somewhere else—"

The corner of his cardboard helmet banged into the kitchen doorway. He dropped one of his drinks, stumbled against the wall, and looked in dismay at his syrup-and-spaghetti-sauce-soaked skirt. He turned to Mabel. "How's my head?"

She grimaced. "We... can fix that with tape."

Bill sighed. "Come on, let's do it before my nuggets get cold."

"Now hold on!" Ford stood up. "Are you going to clean this mess up?"

"No!" Bill was out of the room. Ford could already hear him tripping on the stairs. "You don't trust me with a mop!"

Well. It was true, they didn't trust him with a mop. Sighing, Ford trudged across the room. "I'll get it."

Stan said, "You know, I think I'm glad he looks like an idiot. He's been so mopey the last couple of days, I was almost starting to feel bad for him."

"Thank goodness, you too," Ford muttered. "I was afraid I was going soft."

"Nah, he really was that pathetic," Stan said. "Like a sad show poodle that doesn't understand why it's been shaved in weird shapes."

Ford barked a laugh.

Once the floor was clean, Ford confessed, "I've—actually really worried about that. Going soft, I mean. I'm... afraid that Bill could find a way back into my head."

"Literally or emotionally?"

"Emotionally." Ford paused. "Both, actually—but this time I mean emotionally. The night he burned his hair off, I..." He winced at himself; but he needed to tell Stan. There was no one else he trusted to give him a reality check. Maybe Fiddleford, but... Ford hadn't figured out how to approach him about all this yet.

He put back the mop, to have an excuse to pause and gather his words. "I... brought him something to eat," Ford mumbled. "And, told him I knew what it was like to be trapped in an alien universe, and—that he should take better care of himself, for his own sake—and I don't know why I said that, anything good he does for himself just makes things harder for us, it's not as though I forgot that, but—What? Stanley, why is this funny."

Stan had started laughing; but he cut it off a cough. "Sorry. It's just—do you remember how Mom would go 'Well, I can tell you two are related' any time we did something particularly—you know—twinnish?"

"Don't tell me you've been making sandwiches for Bill."

"Ha! No, but I've given my arch nemesis a pep talk when he was having a mental breakdown. I felt bad for him!"

Ford chuckled. "Really?" He dropped back into his seat. "I didn't know you have an arch nemesis, who's that?"

Stan considered Ford's reaction if he admitted that his nemesis was that ten-year-old with a crush on Mabel, and said, "Ah, he's been out of my hair for ages. So what, is that all you talked about?"

"Somehow it turned into him trying to convince me he'd been planning a welcome party when I fell through the portal."

"Ha! And did you believe him?"

"Absolutely not." Ford paused thoughtfully. "But—part of me wonders whether he believes it himself."

"He seems like the kind of guy to buy his own bull." Stan shrugged. "I don't think you have to worry about him getting in your head. Just don't let him fast-talk you into any decisions and don't buy anything he's selling without telling him you'll think it over for twenty-four hours. And the more he says decide now, the harder you say no. That's how the pros get you, they don't give you room to breathe, let alone think."

Ford was pretty sure Stan was just describing the Mystery Shack's souvenir sales strategy; but he nodded slowly. "I know exactly what you're talking about. When I gave him permission to pilot my body, between the first time he mentioned it was an option and the moment I agreed to it... well, I was asleep at the time, so I can't be sure how long it took—but I'd guess it was less than fifteen minutes. In retrospect, I couldn't believe that I'd agreed so thoughtlessly. But I suppose that's exactly what he wanted." No room to breathe was a good way to describe it. Never mind being nose-to-nose with somebody trying to pressure you into a sale—how do you take a step back to get a little space from somebody who's already inside your head?

"Did he make it sound like a limited-time-only deal? You know—'buy now while the price is low, you'll regret missing this offer'? But with more mystical woo-woo phrasing, I mean."

"Not exactly, but..." Ford tried to remember back that far, grasping for the details of the conversation—the real conversation, not the heady, excited version he'd summarized in his journal. "At the time, I'd been worried about falling behind schedule on the portal's construction. He wouldn't have had to introduce an element of tension—it was already there. All he had to do was exploit it." He shook his head. Falling behind schedule. What schedule—the one he, himself had made? He was sure Bill had encouraged him to finish as fast as possible, too.

"There, you see? You got swindled by a professional swindler," Stan said. "What's important is that you know what he is now, and you know his tricks. He won't get you the same way twice. I'm not worried about you."

There were a couple of odd thuds from upstairs, accompanied by a yelp from Bill. That wasn't odd; he'd proven to be remarkably clumsy in a human body. At any given time it was possible to tell where he was by the random bangs, and if he hadn't made a noise in the last five minutes it meant he was curled up safely in his window seat.

What was odd was hearing Mabel's voice: "Careful, careful—! Augh. ... I'll get another sheet of cardboard, we'll replace that!"

Stan and Ford looked warily toward the stairs. Stan muttered, "Mabel, on the other hand..."

Ford nodded. "I'll keep an eye on her."

####

(If you've read this far, I'd really appreciate hearing from you! Things you liked, things you're looking forward to, jokes, thoughts, even typo corrections. Thanks!)

#mabel pines #grunkle stan #(for the art)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(for the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #bill goldilocks cipher

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sweetheartsaku · 23 days

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—love and deepspace rafayel ; like a song ive never listened to but i know every lyric

a/n ; [fem!reader] @oracleofstars DAY 3 PROMPT AND FIRST LND POST WOOHOO doing this one bc im in band huhuhuhu :3c

larkspur !

concerts have always felt like a fever dream.

and the absolute tingle down your spine when you managed to swiftly choose and buy front-row tickets to THE 3VOLS concert?? your heart was basically beating out of your chest. to make your heart even tighter, a little pop-up had appeared on your laptop screen basically screaming at you: "DON'T LEAVE AFTER THE CONCERT ♡" in rafayel's iconic handwriting, with its own messy yet neat flare to it. one of your favourite members.

you wonder what a singer like him could possibly be doing after a concert as big as this. especially for a smaller artist like him, maybe he wanted to get to know what his fans are like? a social experime-

the cold breeze of your open window kisses your cheek causing you to snap out of your daze. your cream curtain had been blowing fresh air, it made you feel more alive, especially having it slightly open in the early mornings. the sunlight would bleed into the curtains onto your sheets and the early bustling of the beautiful city would awaken.

a small blue jay chirps outside, and your phone chimes reminding you to bring your purse.

you slot your gentle lip tint and wallet, your phone's little dangling charms clinking with all the other knick-knacks in your purse. and for the final touch, the little rafayel chibi keychain attached with a beaded charm you had bought by impulse (listener like artist?).

you connect your white headphones sprinkled in stickers, playing his latest track. one of your favourites from their most recent single, Tip Toe.

"even better to be experienced live" you smiled, as you tap on your bus card. you take a seat nearest in-between the back and the middle, claiming your seat closest to the window.

you had always been drawn to the more charismatic, charming and... magnetic members. that one, being rafayel.

before you even knew it, you had already arrived at the bar it was set, a very cozy and warm atmosphere fills the air. there were people on the stage, setting up xavier's iconic deep red bass and zayne's pearly keytar. the stage was littered in little bits of glitter, and warm fairy lights.

a shiver of your heart knew this was going to be a magical experience.

placing your headphones around the strap of our bag, you stand in awe at the centre of the audience area, eyes shimmering. bejewelled.

suddenly a dark, veronica lilac shade came into sight.

rafayel.

"RAFAYEL?????" your mind was running laps, taken aback by the sudden sight of the man of your dreams in front of you, setting up his own mic still looking back backstage presumably talking to staff.

he was dressed in an unbuttoned white polo with a loose black tie on top, paired with worn out denim jorts and a pair of thick socks with leathery brown dress shoes.

ohmygoodness.

they weren't wrong when they said he was prettier in real life. to make it even worse, you were one of the only people in that standing area.

"oh? you must be early. we still have an hour or so till' the show starts." he tilts his head towards you, looking back down at his mic

"e-eh?! you're talking to... me?!" you lock your eyes with his lilac ones, and gain composure.

"i mean... well yeah. i prefer to get to events early!!" you smile.

he looks back up, impressed by her gentle demeanour finding her cute being so shocked he was talking to her.

"well, that's good. and don't worry. i'm not some big celeb, just a guy who loves his band and has the eye for the arts, if i do say so myself. no need to be shy.", he chuckles.

oh wow. he's so much more charismatic in real life too. your ears become warm, thinking this is all a daze.

"well, i hope to see you in the crowd, hm?"

"yep! i'll be in the front row... chookas?"

"thank you. hope to see ya' after the show."

something about her... was different.

she was alluring. her soul... it was... beyond description. would he really believe in love at first sight after every other soul he's fallen for?

stealing glances at you throughout the concert, he notices your passionate aura and your shouts of the lyrics from the latest single, Tip Toe.

xavier finds himself noticing rafayel's eyes on you, he felt captivated, enchanted if you will, as he saw you sing to his music. xavier smiles to himself as he gets fired up for his solo part in the following 3 bars.

he had 3 songs left till he could finally interact with you again.

after the concert, 3VOLS bow and grin, feeling accomplished playing their latest single flawlessly. now, he just had to see if people payed attention to the pop up on the ticket site.

the small maintenance crew had efficiently set up the little tables filled with boxes, revealing little pouches containing little trinkets and freebies organised by the boys to express their gratitude for supporting and attending their concert and simply just enjoying their music. each little bag was organised by member, letting the people who had noticed the little pop up choose their favourite member's freebies.

you managed to get a early spot in the small crowd of people. peering over a shoulder, it seemed like they were having a small meet and greet.

ohmygoodness.

WERE TALKING TO THEM PERSONALLY AGAIN??? this cannot be real. PLEASE LET ME GET A TURN WITH RAFAYEL!!

the little crowd was progressively moving, now the time awaits on you to be able to have the opportunity to greet the first debuted member, xavier. he held hands with you, smiling as he directed his eyes towards rafayel.

DOES HE KNOW MY FAVOURITE IS RAFAYEL??

"oh, i noticed your little raf' keychain. its cute." he gleams. in reality, he knows rafayel has had an eye on you. little did you know, his eyes were still on you as you held hands with xavier.

you giggle, thanking him and interacting with zayne. you reach rafayel at the end of the table, and he automatically hands you the pouch of trinkets filled with little freebies chosen by rafayel himself.

"honestly, my eye for the arts makes my pouch one of the best decorated here." he playfully chuckles.

"hm... maybe. we'll see when i open it!"

"can't wait. did you enjoy the show?"

"oh my gosh of course!! my favourite had to be Tip toe. or Saturn, or WDYS... i can't choose!! oh and Over 85 was also re- oops. i just enjoyed the entire show! you did so well!!"

"i'm happy to hear that. the experience was magical for me too." he says as they exchange closed eye smiles.

you extend your hand and he laces his hands with yours, slightly cold fingertips sending a pang through your heart. you bid your goodbyes and thank you's, heart warm and mind at ease.

you exit the bar, taking in the deep night city air.

oh gosh. well that just happened.

you untie the little purple ribbon that embraced the little pouch. what came to your surprise, a little piece of paper had fallen out.

hm? what's thi-

you're cute. heres my number, ⌝

XXXX-XXX-XXX

i think i wanna get to know ya'.

⌞ xoxo, rafayel. ᡣ𐭩

larkspur, representing first love and sweet disposition.

your voice , ⌝

like a song i've never listened to

⌞ but i know every lyric.

#oracleofstars #mics : dear rafayel #rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel fluff #rafayel prompt #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace fluff #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace rafayel

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cerise-on-top · 18 days

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Hello love! Hope you are well!

So I’ve had this cute idea for a while with AleRudy poly! Where Alejandro and their s/o spoil Rudy for a day, like make him dinner,, whatever you think lolz and then end it by both Ale and s/o spooning him?? I think it would be adorable!!

Hey there! I don't think I made this as fluffy as I could have, and for that I am truly sorry! But I tried!

Spoiling Rodolfo

I feel like he’d be surprised at first. Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t doubt the love you and Alejandro have for him one bit, but he never would have thought you’d go out of your way to spoil him this much. First you bring him breakfast in bed, essentially waking him with a kiss to each side. It was all there, French toast, eggs, orange juice. He didn’t have to lift a finger. Naturally, as he got out of bed, he’d try to make it up to you by cleaning up after himself, only for you and Alejandro to stop him from doing so, forcing him back onto the bed once again. Rodolfo would grow suspicious. Did he miss an important date? Did the both of you miss an important date? It wasn’t like it was his birthday either, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember something that you did where you had to make it up to him either. For the time being, he’d simply accept his fate. Eventually, he would get up to check up on you. And then there was the barrage of gifts. They were lovely, naturally, but what did he do to deserve them? Again, he would grow even more suspicious. From the beautiful flowers to the small stickers you stuck on him, he wouldn’t know what to do. However, he wouldn’t say something immediately. Maybe he can think of why you’re being especially nice to him himself. Were you about to get into a lot of trouble? Were you just trying to get on his good side?

Of course, Alejandro made the suggestion of going out together, spending the time outside to do whatever it is he wanted. And then came the idea of having a picnic, since it was nice and warm outside. As you went to pay for all the items, with Rodolfo already taking out his wallet, you almost tackled him to get him to put it away. Alejandro paid, even though he shouldn’t have. You were three people, and with the amount of snacks you bought it didn’t come cheap either. From a massage to a heartfelt poem from you, it all started to seem like a little too much. Again, Rodolfo doesn’t doubt the love you feel for him, but it seems a bit off. However, you wouldn’t give him a satisfying answer either when asked about it. Were you going to break up with him after all this time? Making your last day together as beautiful as possible so he had something to cry over? He hoped not, but it didn’t seem impossible with how nice you were being towards him. A kiss to the cheek, you even gave him a plushie of a small cat, claiming its silliness reminded you of him. Why on Earth would you do all of this? Why go to these lengths?

Even around dinnertime, when you wouldn’t let him help out, he almost felt a bit sad. Sure, it was nice to not have to lift a single finger for a day, but why? He loved helping out, you both knew that. He was very much an active man at home, doing what he could to keep everything clean and in order. He didn’t mind cooking for you either, pouring his heart and soul into every meal for you. Rodolfo adored doing something for you, so he wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of it all. The meal was delicious, but he felt almost sad as he was unable to help you out at least even a little bit. You watched his favorite movie with him, you took pictures of him with his silly cat plushie, hell, you would have likely spoon fed him as well on that day. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. What have the both of you been up to? He would ask you again regarding it all when you were spooning him, trapping him on either side. It would take the most embarrassing nicknames that you only use on him to calm his nerves. Something along the lines of “Hush, Rudy-Poody, can’t we show our love and appreciation for you for once? You always make us feel good, so it was time to return the favor.” and “Mi esposo, you need to have more trust in us. Sometimes we just wanna see you smile as well. Cheer up, we just wanted to spoil just once in this life.”

He’d sort of cringe at the nickname you gave him, but it was the reassurance he needed since you only ever used it when you were being especially sappy. You didn’t get in trouble again, you were simply a bunch of lovesick fools. He’d give you a kiss on the nose and a smile. However, he would also try to turn around as Alejandro was spooning him, only for the colonel to not budge in the slightest, saying that Rodolfo shouldn’t be tossing and turning like this. No kissy for Alejandro it seemed. Rodolfo was this close to just wrestling him down for that kissy. Although he can’t really get used to the feeling of being spoiled, he will accept it for just that day. He will pay the both of you back in his style, though. You will also be spoiled. He couldn’t wait to team up with one of you to spoil the third one. All three of you will have had a day like this at some point.

#cod #cod x reader #alerudy #alerudy x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #Y'all have no idea just how tired I am I had a long day today but I had some time to write for the first time in like a week #don't worry I didn't forget about the fluff alphabet requests but I don't have a lot of time to write anymore #I still have to study for my driver's license so I'm left with barely any time at all for myself #sorry if this has mistakes again I am super tired today but I wanted to write something again #I will be working on a few letters for the alphabet for Nikolai today so I should be able to post it within the next few days #I have the test again this Friday and I am so worried about not passing again. but I will be trying my best again as well #I wanna take a nap so bad but there's like a million things I should be doing right now and I have no time for any of them #so yeah it'll be a while before I'm properly back with writing. sorry about that but I can't help it life is hard #work and being in a new environment isn't helping either. I will be back in my regular environment next month but I still wanna go back #again sorry this isn't too fluffy but I really didn't feel the fluff at all tonight. I tried

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kairiscorner · 8 months

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reader creating silly miguel emojis and sending them tk the spider society gc for everyone to use bc shes a fun gal ;p (and she likes annoying him too)

fr. (did i legit make a whole ass dc server for this? yes.) sorry i didn't change my display name to y/n, i got lazy 😭😭😭 also written ver with additional scenes under the cut !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

shitting on miggy cutely. 🫶— miguel o'hara x reader

✧ written version !! ✧

after lyla had signed miguel up for a discord account, much to his frustration, you immediately got a hold of his username (which was really generic, he named himself: 'miguelohara' at first, but lyla changed it up to: 'migolohellnawh') and added him to the spider society's discord server. you made a channel that was dedicated to showing miguel all the stickers and emojis you and the society had made that was just full of memes of miguel. thanks to earth-928's social media, you were all fed with silly stickers and emojis of him for days; you all had a spam channel where hobie and pav would have contests to see whose thumbs could spam more miguel shitpost memes, but that would be a story for another day.

as miguel got notified that he was added to a server, the first thing that caught his eye was the vulgarly named channel of the server: "shitting on miggy". he brought his eyebrows together and tapped on the bold text of the channel's name. he asked what that channel was for, pointing out the name in a disappointed manner as he typed. lyla giggled under her breath as she watched miguel try to act intimidating and angry over text, but his scrunched up face crinkled even more as he saw that the first thing you sent him was a sticker of his stern, stoic face that had the words: "this ugly son of a bitch is fucking super hot chicks and basically you are fucking stupid. how? ...just watch the free video."

miguel had clicked the sticker, and he saw the file name: "singlehotmominyourarea". he huffed as he texted you, asking you what that was that you sent, because he thought it was an actual link to something. he took his reading glasses and, when he could make out what it said, he got angrier than he already was earlier. he told you what you sent was not at all funny, and when you replied that—no, it certainly wasn't... it was very hysterical, though—you sent him a very pink and cutesy sticker of him with cat ears. miguel groaned as lyla took a hundred screenshots remotely from his phone. "where are you even getting these?" he asked you as you kept sending him more shitpost stickers.

"but i don't even like horses." miguel muttered as he saw the "save a horse, ride a cowboy" sticker you sent. "yeah, you're scared of them." lyla reminded him as he rolled his eyes. "no need to remind me." he said as he typed out that he 'hated' (didn't fear, there's a difference, and that is that miguel is fucking lying, he is scared of horses) horses. but of course, you knew his secret, and miguel pounded his fist against the arm of his computer chair. "are you seriously telling them on your end?" he asked lyla as she stuck her tongue out and shrugged, looking all smug as miguel grumbled and told you that he didn't ask for your correction, only for you to send an emoji of your favorite girl dinner: his five course meal ass on display.

"yeah, you need ass correction 'bee cee' this bakery is packed; what...?" he read aloud as lyla groaned. "get with the times, old man." "we don't say stuff like that in 2099 anymore, don't tell me to get with the times." he told his AI assistant as he looked through the emoji catalogue you guys had, and among them all, a colorful one stood out to him and he sent it—hoping you could tell him what was on the emoji, but knowing you, you'd of course mess with him again. you told him the emoji, which was promptly named: "doublecheekedup", meant the very sticker you sent him in response. it was similar to the cat-eared one, but it read: "i <3 my girlfriend", with miguel's angry face in the heart.

miguel looked at it all confused and pulled his reading glasses away from his face and back on to see if he was reading this right. he asked you if he was supposed to be flattered about your sticker, with him immediately following up with his honest opinion; that it was irritating instead of flattering to him. you told him the sticker was more 'sexy' than it was irritating or flattering, and you soon sent him another sticker, where he was diving face first with his legs spread and bottom out. miguel looked at it all baffled and flustered, where were you getting these photos...?

you asked him who he was spreading for, asking if it was you, while sending him an emoji with his back turned to the camera and his ginormous bottom in full view. miguel couldn't make out the text in the emoji and told you the text was too minute for him to read it. he also cleared up that he wasn't intentionally spreading his cheeks for anyone, he had just 'stumbled'. "sure ya did." lyla said as she appeared over miguel's shoulder with a smug grin on her face. "i really didn't, though." miguel said as lyla nodded slowly, her smug grin not leaving her face as miguel saw your next message. "because you wanted to spread your asscheeks for me, i didn't spread for anybody!" he screamed aloud in the confines of his office, pounding his fist on the arm of his computer chair as you sent the girl dinner emoji that was the very profile picture of the spider society's discord server.

miguel was heated in the face and heaving... oh, was there some unspoken feelings he was hiding about your little provocative words? maybe... he might sound like he wants out of the server immediately, but deep in his heart, he'd stay; even if you'd annoy the shit out of him with those damned emojis and stickers. they were irritating, yes, and maybe just the tiniest bit flattering in a twisted way for him. "wow, you're a masochist." lyla pointed out as miguel mumbled for her to shut up, but she was right as always.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

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mama-qwerty · 2 months

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Wade's Bedroom

Okay. So, in the trailer for the Knuckles series, we see Knux take out a bounty hunter in what appears to be Wade's bedroom. I'm thinking this is his bedroom at his mother's house, so when he was a teen.

You can tell a lot about a person by how they decorate their personal space. And since I love Wade and am on my knees begging for better characterization, I wanna see what they put in the guy's bedroom.

Let's break it down.

1 - Little Robots

I can't tell exactly what robots these are, whether they're action figures from games or movies, or some model kits he's built himself. If they're models it shows Wade spent a lot of time on his own, and had the opportunity to focus on building something that required attention and patience.

2 - Books

There are a lot of books on his shelves, and the ones especially between Knux and the bounty hunter look like a series. Obviously we can't read the titles, but Wade strikes me as someone who'd enjoy manga, and the Choose Your Own Adventure stories.

3 - A Little Rainbow Sticker

This may indicate he knows someone who is LGTBQ+, or possibly he himself is. Or maybe he just likes rainbows.

4 - "Pistol" Pete Whipple poster

I'm not exactly sure how Pete is related to Wade, but I'm going under the assumption that Pete is his uncle. (Cary Elwes is 20 years older than Adam Pally, so while it's possible he's a brother, it's unlikely.) Here's this very impressive and 'famous' Whipple, who everyone looks up to and admires. (I'm assuming.) Wade feels so unimportant, he has this poster to remind him that he's related to greatness, and maybe he too can be important some day.

5 - Addams Family movie poster

I'm pretty sure this is the first movie, and Wade likes it because it shows people who are strange, people who don't look or act like everyone else, people who have odd hobbies and interact with the world in their own unique manner. And yet they love each other, Gomez in particular would do anything for his brother. Considering the nonchalant way his sister and mother behaved when he was yanked off the porch in the trailer, maybe Wade never really felt a connection like that.

6 - Robin Hood Prince of Thieves movie poster

The most famous example of helping those less fortunate than you, and being a hero to those on the receiving end of that help. Wade wants to help people. He wants to stand up for those who can't. I have no idea what his relationship with his father is/was like, but maybe the whole 'stand up to a corrupt authority' resonated with him for personal reasons as well.

7 - Speed movie poster

Maybe he wished he was Keanu Reeves, the hero with a calm head and always knew what to do. Maybe he always pictured himself as Sandra Bullock, an average person pulled into something dangerous and assuming an important role that helps save others.

8 - Ren and Stimpy poster

Okay, so he's a teen boy in the 90s. He's gonna like that gross-out humor.

9 - Total Recall movie poster

This movie is about an average joe who discovers he's actually someone Very Important. Wade has always thought of himself as a nobody. Deep down he wants to be someone Very Important. At least someone competent who isn't brushed off as a joke.

10 - TMNT bedsheets (and he was wearing a TMNT shirt under his robe before he's dragged down the street)

Obviously he's a man of good taste. But again, a group of teens fighting bad guys. The man just wants to be a hero so badly.

Based purely on the way he acts as an adult (and I'm trying to look past the "oh boy isn't he dumb!" pathetic characterization the movies have so far given him) I see Wade as a lonely man. He's likely never had many friends, always feels like the odd man in every situation, and just isn't very comfortable in his own skin.

In the trailer scenes where Knuckles decides to train Wade, there are posters and notes tacked all over the room with encouraging messages to himself regarding working out. Maybe he's trying to change his image because he thinks that will make others like him more. Maybe he's just trying to get a date. Maybe he's wrestling with his own self-worth.

Whatever is going on with Wade, I think pairing him with Knuckles is a good way to have them both realize things about themselves they'd never known before. Wade will help Knux realize that it's okay to let his guard down and enjoy himself, and Knuckles can help show Wade that there's more to him than anyone (including himself) thinks.

Maybe I'm waaaaay off base with these. Maybe I'm thinking way too hard about it. Wouldn't be the first time. But I love Wade and I really want to understand him, and hope to see him grow and become more confident by the end of the series.

#knuckles series #wade whipple #thinking too hard about fictional characters again

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calisources · 4 months

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TAYLOR JENKINS REID BOOK QUOTES. all sentences are taken from various of taylor jenkins reid's books. mentions of sex, marriage,cheating, divorce, soulmates and heartbreak. change names, locations and pronouns as you see fit.

"People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth."

"When you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can show yourself to them, when you stand in front of them bare and their response is 'you're safe with me'- that's intimacy."

"I had absolutely no interest in being somebody else's muse. I am not a muse. I am the somebody."

"Never let anyone make you feel ordinary."

“Men often think they deserve a sticker for treating women like people.”

“Don't ignore half of me so you can fit me into a box. Don't do that.”

“I’m under absolutely no obligation to make sense to you.”

“It’s always been fascinating to me how things can be simultaneously true and false, how people can be good and bad all in one, how someone can love you in a way that is beautifully selfless while serving themselves ruthlessly.”

“Sometimes reality comes crashing down on you. Other times reality simply waits, patiently, for you to run out of the energy it takes to deny it.”

“Heartbreak is a loss. Divorce is a piece of paper.”

“I spent half my time loving her and the other half hiding how much I loved her.”

“I think you have to have faith in people before they earn it. Otherwise it's not faith, right?”

“When you're given an opportunity to change your life, be ready to do whatever it takes to make it happen. The world doesn't give things, you take things.”

“Passion is...it's fire. And fire is great, man. But we're made of water. Water is how we keep living. Water is what we need to survive.”

“If she knew how often I was thinking about her, she wouldn't feel lonely.”

And my heart breaks for every single version of me that didn't end up with you.”

“No matter who you choose to go down the road with, you're gonna get hurt. That's just the nature of caring about someone. No matter who you love, they will break your heart along the way.”

“When you think of me, I hope it ruins rock 'n' roll”

“No one is just a victim or a victor. Everyone is somewhere in between.

“People are messy, and love can be ugly. I’m inclined to always err on the side of compassion.”

“Confidence is being okay being bad, not being okay being good.”

“How were you supposed to change- in ways both big and small- when your family was always there to remind you of exactly the person you apparently signed an ironclad contract to be?”

“You're all sorts of things you don't even know yet.”

“We love broken, beautiful people. And it doesn't get much more obviously broken and more classically beautiful than Daisy Jones.”

“We live in a world where exceptional women have to sit around waiting for mediocre men.”

“Just because something isn’t meant to last a lifetime doesn’t mean it wasn’t meant to be.”

“It hurts to care about someone more than they care about themselves.”

“Family is found...whether it be blood or circumstance or choice, what binds us does not matter. All that matters is that we are bound.”

“Nobody deserves anything,”

“It shouldn’t be wrong, to love you. How can it be wrong?”

“Isn’t it nice … once you’ve outgrown the ideas of what life should be and you just enjoy what it is.”

“Our family histories are simply stories. They are myths we create about the people who came before us, in order to make sense of ourselves.”

“I am absolutely positive that I need you more than I’ve ever needed another living soul,”

“If there are all different types of soul mates, then you are one of mine.”

“And taking pride in your beauty is a damning act.

“Must be nice. To be able to be weak. I wouldn’t know.”

Better just to stay in the now and focus on what you can do better in the future.”

“Forgiveness is different from absolution.”

“There’s no room for you in my life anymore. And I don’t owe it to you to make any space.”

“That's what you do when you want something. You don't look for reasons why it won't work. You look for reasons why it will.”

“It's the ones who never loved you enough that come to you when you can't sleep.

“Just because you can live without someone doesn’t mean you want to.”

“History is what you did, not what you almost did, not what you thought about doing. And I was proud of what I did”

“Alcoholism is a disease with many faces, and some of them look beautiful.”

I used to care when men called me difficult. I really did. Then I stopped. This way is better.”

“The truth often lies, unclaimed, in the middle.”

“I guess what I’m saying is it’s not all luck. It’s luck and being a son of a bitch.”

“But a good life is knowing people care about you, knowing you can take care of the people that count on you.”

“There was finally enough air within her for a fire to ignite.”

“Everything that made Daisy burn, made me burn. Everything I loved about the world, Daisy loved about the world. Everything I struggled with, Daisy struggled with. We were two halves. We were the same.”

“Love and pride don't mix.”

“I’m cynical and I’m bossy, and most people would consider me vaguely immoral.”

“When you find that rare person who really knows who you are and they still don't love you... I was burning.”

“Fate or not, our lives are still the results of our choices.”

“I have changed over time. That’s what people do.People aren’t stagnant. We evolve in reaction to our pleasures and our pains.”

“We are two people who are madly in love with our old selves. And that is not the same as being in love.”

“It’s a hard business, reconciling what the truth used to be with what the truth is now.”

But she was always the person I loved the most. She was always the person I would choose.

Water is how we keep living. Water is what we need to survive. My family was my water. I picked water. I'll pick water every time. And I wanted Daisy to find her water. Because I couldn't be it

“My heart hurts when you hurt because you are my heart.”

“You don’t need to find the perfect thing all the time. Just find one that works, and go with it.”

“You can only forgive yourself for the mistakes you made in the past once you know you’ll never make them again.”

“I'm not perfect. I'll never be perfect. I don't expect anything to be perfect. But things don't have to be perfect to be strong.

“We loved each other and we lost each other. And now, even though we still love each other, the pieces don’t fit like they used to.”

“What's that saying? Behind every gorgeous woman, there's a man sick of screwing her? Well, it works both ways. No one mentions that part.”

“The Chosen ones never know they are chosen. They think everyone gets a gold carpet rolled out for them.”

“Your whole world can be falling apart, she thought, but then Springsteen will start playing on the radio.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,”

“...if you redeem yourself, then believe in your own redemption.”

“I want to be with someone who lives for me. I want to be with someone who considers me the love of her life. I deserve that.”

“No one goes around throwing caution to the wind unless the wind is blowing their way.”

“You are happier to have known him than you are sad to have lost him.”

“Love is forgiveness and patience and faith and every once in a while, it’s a gut punch.”

“It seems as if you see me exactly as I wish to be seen. There is no greater gift than that.”

“I've seen a lot of marriages where everyone is faithful and no one is happy.”

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt

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deepdisireslonging · 9 months

Text

I Got Your Crazy

A new Hydra threat has the Reader undercover, and Steve under the arm of an inebriated socialite. When the case comes to an end, the Reader immediately sets to remind and reclaim their man.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings/Promises: jealousy, language, SMUT, oral (male receiving), creampie, implied further smut, fluff

Word Count: 1950

Note: Another song-fic for this end of the summer SongFic Playlist! Let me know if you enjoy it in your comments and reblogs. These fics should go though the beginning of September, so keep an eye out. Happy reading!

“Crazy Possessive” by Kaci Battaglia

The venue could hold at least three hundred deep-pocketed people. But you thought there were at least four hundred. Under the guise of a fundraiser for the devastation of another small town in need, Tony had set this night up as a way to find the target. His name was unknown. Luckily, a picture from another event was enough for you to be able to identify him in a large crowd. Then, acting as both bait and lure, you’d become his next victim for losing a few million into his Hydra-Fund and the team would snatch him up.

Easy. Clear cut and minutes from being complete.

But instead of talking up the man in question across the bar, all you could focus on was the sugar-sweet voice that kept slurring into your boyfriend’s earpiece.

“You used to have a dance team back in the day, right, Captain Rogers? Baby, I could give you a private dance every night.”

In your hand, the glass of something pseudo-alcoholic crackled under the threat of breaking. The only thing that kept you smiling at the target was that Steve was upholding an admirable front.

“You’re… cute. But I’m at least fifty years older than you. All creaky joints and no fun. You’d have better luck with the line of wealthy bachelors over there.”

The target slid up to your side. “What’cha drinking? Looks like you’re almost down to the dregs.”

Flashing your brilliant cover smile, you turned to lean against the bar. “It wasn’t good enough for a second. What would you recommend?”

As he called the barkeep for something, you tensed.

The broad crooned in Steve’s ear. “C’mon. Let’s get lost. Must get lonely for you in all these fancy dinners and nobody on your arm.”

“I’m in a relationship.”

“They’re not here.”

“Here you are.” The target pressed a glass into your hand. You knew it was already laced with a drug that would make you pliant and suggestive. Suggestive enough to wire millions to someone you didn’t know.

Still, you smiled. “Thank you. What’s in it?”

Fate parted the sea of donors and you got a clear view of Steve’s sticker. Dripping with diamonds her father probably bought her, the woman was lovely. But she really needed to place her hands on another man, or you were going to lay your hands on her.

“Disgusting, isn’t it?” Your target matched your pose against the bar and watched the mismatched pair. He watched you take a sip of the spiked drink, unaware that you already had the antidote in your system. “He could have anyone in the world, but look at how he’s pushing her away. How sad to see such an asset wasted.”

“Hmm. If you were so famous, and had everyone in the world at your fingertips, what would you do?”

He trailed a finger up your arm. It took every cell of your being not to shiver away. “I’d take advantage of what I want.” Gingerly, he tilted your head to face him. “I have a feeling you want him. Don’t you? You’ve been hyper aware of his presence all night. Maybe he needs someone to open the door for him.” His thumb slid across your bottom lip. “Do you want to help him out?”

“Maybe,” you managed to mumble. Maybe this could work out for both of you in ways he wouldn’t imagine.

At his nod, you strutted across the floor and took the woman’ wrist. Low enough for your voice not to travel you hissed, “touch my man again and I’ll fuck you up.” Then you placed yourself as a wedge. Wrapping your arms around him, you slid your fingers into Steve’s hair. He knew the situation, but this level of directness had not been in the plan. Even less so when you pulled him down for a deep kiss. The woman’s irritated huff behind you barely registered. You felt Steve’s hand twitch between your side and the table he was at. More than anything, you wanted him to reciprocate, but that would blow the whole thing.

You ended it. As people applauded, you shot him a wink and sauntered off with a wobble in your step. Like clockwork the target was at your elbow ready to support you and lead you away. On the stage, Tony used the kiss to gather everyone’s attention and started the bidding. The target led you out into the hallway. His phone was already out, anticipating the spike to wear off soon.

Once his fingerprint unlocked the screen and you could see the bank account pulled up, you called it. Agents rushed in from both sides and apprehended the target and his phone. He was silenced with a drug of Shield’s design and led away. Steve joined you in the hallway.

“That went well.” He hummed in surprise against the wall where you pinned him and kissed him again.

“I was about ready to break that woman’s arm.”

Steve breathed a laugh. “Jealous? You know you had nothing to worry about, right?”

“One of these days I’m going to convince Fury to let our relationship out in the open, and then I can be crazy possessive in public instead of between missions.” You whined when he dragged your arms away from around his neck.

With a kiss to your forehead, he hushed you with “one day. But for now… since the mission is complete. How about we get outta here and-“

“Yes.”

He probably had your rooms in mind, but you couldn’t wait that long. Instead, you dragged him through the first unlocked door you could find. All you cared about was that it was private. You pinned Steve to the wall beside the door, sucking on the sweet spot under his ear while he tried to fumble with the lock. It had barely clicked into place when you sank to your knees. You were desperate. Needy. And all Steve could do was watch as you unzipped his suit pants to mouth at the growing bulge under the last layer of fabric. He groaned as you pulled his cock out into the open, thankful of the release in pressure.

“I’ve been hard for you since that surprise kiss.” He hissed as you licked up the underside to the head.

Humming, you said, “I wasn’t even started yet then.”

You were oblivious to how quick he had to slap his hand over his mouth to contain his shout when you first closed your mouth around him. He held back from thrusting. Barely. As you worked, his hand clawed at the wall instead of reaching for your hair. You knew him so well, knew how to move and when to swallow, that he didn’t need to guide you. Every so often, you would flick your thumb over the twitching of his balls. The smallest of touches stole his breath. When you stopped for a breath and looked up, he was already sweating and hazy-eyed. His chest heaved, and the glow in his gaze for you bordered on the edge between feral and falling apart.

Slowly, you crawled up his body, dragging your nails over his suit where you’d usually scrape his muscles. Steve met you for the deep kiss, hugging you close. Matching you passion, he began to walk you back towards the closest flat surface.

The room hadn’t registered as someone’s office until he swept an arm across the desk. In the cleared spot, he spun you, pressing your stomach into the wood and pressing himself against the curve of your ass.

“You thought you had it bad?” Steve’s shaking hands fought with the fabric covering your body to move it out of the way. “She was bad enough. Made my skin crawl because her touch wasn’t yours. But, watching that creep prey on you. Touch you. Having to hear him whisper in your ear.” He finally managed to uncover your underwear, and then removed that too. As his fingers rubbed through your slick, he leaned down to press cheek to yours. “You’re mine. I’m yours. And there’s nothing anybody can do about it. Not that they’ll know, but I’m going to fuck you into next week.”

“Come on; do it.” You arched, twisting your hips and grinding against his hand. “Take me. Fill me up like only you can.”

As he did, thrusting inch after inch of his cock into your heat, you clawed at the desktop. Stars danced under your eyelids, fading into dark ecstasy when he was fully seated. He waited. Your breath left quickly fading puffs of vapor on the hardwood. Already you could feel him throbbing.

“Steve-“

He panted a laugh. “Just a minute. If I move now, I’ll blow. You’re too much for me.”

Gently, he took your wrist, twisting it back towards him. He kissed over your knuckles. Then, folding your arm to lay over the small of your back, he used it as leverage to begin pulling out of you. He took it slow. Toying with your desperation. And simply watching your body take his cock in and out. The wet sound of your bodies colliding filled the room. It grew louder as he began to fuck you in earnest. You were sure that the colliding of his skin of yours would be audible from the hallway.

If that wasn’t loud enough, Steve didn’t hold back on his moans and grunts anymore. No that you could either. Your gasps increased in pitch until they were seconds away from the ability to shatter crystal. That was when Steve reached around for your clit. Coating his fingers in the wetness of you mixed with his pre, he dragged it up to your clit, circling and rubbing until you saw stars.

With a shout, your body quaked and fell apart with release. Steve silenced his shout by falling over your body and muffling it between your shoulder blades. While you both fought to catch your breath, he thrust lazily. Pushing your mutual release deeper into your body. When the grip of your walls began to overstimulate, Steve tried to pull away. But you reach back, pulling his hip forward.

You mumbled, “I’m not done with you yet.”

Steve guided you up by your throat so you could see the room. “We have to be. Got a mess to clean up, and a paperwork to sign.” He tugged on your earlobe with his teeth so you’d open your eyes. Everything that had probably been on the desk when you entered was on the floor in disarray. Wouldn’t take long to clean up, but whoever came to work would be confused when things were moved around.

With a groan, you stepped back and rightened your clothes. Like you thought, it didn’t take long. But you complained the whole time. You chuckled with a thought. “I wonder how we would have explain the mess.” You sighed as Steve stepped close, and nuzzled his nose into your hair. “I could never be a PR person. There’s too much stupid in the world.”

He chuckled. Pitching his voice high, he quoted, “I could give you a private dance every night.”

“Case and point.” The memory of that woman all over Steve made your blood boil all over again. You twisted in his hold and began to undo his buttons. But he caught your hands.

“Nu-uh. We just cleaned up.”

“So, we can mess it up again?” You bit your lip, reaching for his shirt again.

Steve caught your wrists and pinned them behind your back. “No. Then we’re going home. And I’m going to erase both of our trysts from our mind by fucking you into next week. Sound good?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

***

Masterlist

Other Steve Fics:

Scruff (Smut)

To Love the Night (Vampire!Steve AU, Smut)

Insatiable (Smut, Fluff, Ficlet)

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #avenger x reader #avangers smut #marvel smut #reader insert #female!reader #MTF!Reader #songfic

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