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ellieslittlewh0re · 10 months

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𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏)

* ೃ⁀➷ part 2 - part 3

pairings - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie

summary - your dad hires a stranger to help out around the farm

additional tags - inexperienced but flirty reader, shy/loser ellie, cowboy boot wearing ellie, mutual pinning, slight masturbation mention (e!), e! w/ a southern accent??, eventual smut, (nothing too crazy happens in this part it’s mostly just setting vibes lol)

Beads of sweat collected on the bridge of your nose, and your thighs stuck together as you sat on the porch swing, just lazily swinging back and forth, using your tippy toes to keep the momentum going.

You look out over the vast pasture- green as far as the eye can see, with nothing to distract from the country landscape except for some power lines out in the distance.

Even with the sun starting to set- it was still unbelievably hot.

"Keep goin' like that and you're gonna die of a heat stroke."

You yell to your father who was working under the hood of his rusty truck. Usually, he pays no mind to your nagging, but this time it seemed to work- or perhaps he was just finished for the night.

He shuts the hood, slamming it with a metallic thud before wiping his hands on a greasy rag.

His boots rang loudly against the hallow wooden stairs of the porch, looking down at you through bushy eyebrows.

"I don't need your sass, kid."

You roll your eyes at his comment. He's always been stubborn and tough, but in his old age, you can't help but worry. His cheeks have hallowed over the years, sun spots forming from the countless hours working on the farm, and his movements became slowed from the hard work catching up to him.

"I wouldn't sass if you'd just listen. Seriously, it's okay to hire someone to help. no one is gonna shame you for that." You pester affectionately, standing from the swing to open the screen door and enter the house with him following behind.

You follow him to the kitchen, listing all the reasons why he should have help.

One: he's getting old.

Two: his knee has never been the same since he had that operation done 4 years ago.

Three: the farm is too big and demanding to tend to alone.

"Okay- enough.. you sound just like your mother sometimes I swear." He hold a hand up, pausing you mid-ramble, and takes a sip from the glass he filled from the tap.

You pouted, and once again, your suggestions felt shot down.

He finishes the water, wiping his beard with the back of his hand.

"I actually have someone comin' by tomorrow. They were recommended t' me by Phillip at the feed store."

Your eyes lighten up, a smile grows on your face, and you finally feel like you can breathe, knowing that the hardships wouldn't be your dads alone anymore.

You rush around the kitchen island, placing a kiss to your dads cheek and squeezed him tight.

"Thank you! I can't wait- I'll have to bake em' something sweet tonight."

"Alright- settle down-" he pushes you away slightly with a smile on his weathered face. Truly an adoring annoyance that only a parent could love.

Your old man calls it a night, showering and off to bed he went, but you? Oh- you were busy. You tried your hardest to keep the sound down to a minimum, bowls, and kitchen utensils splayed on the counters.

A small apron draped around your waist, flour smudged on your cheekbone as you pulled the blueberry scones out of the oven. A satisfied smile grows on your face as you observe your work and finishing of the pastries with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Maybe, you were going a tad bit overboard, but the truth is, you were painfully lonely. The only time you had any visitors on the farm was when you held pumpkin patches in the fall, but even then, it was always young families that didn't bother to stay around for too long.

You go upstairs, a slight pep in your step as you did so. You showered and put in your favorite pajamas- a short, soft floral patterned dress with bows that secured the straps.

You tossed in bed, sleep not being in favor since your mind was still wide awake. You try to picture what they would look like- what they sounded like.

Was he tall? Around your age, or is he just another old man like your father? Maybe they're not a man at all.

It's best not to get ahead of yourself; whoever this person is, they are coming to work for your dad and not to become your friend.

You slept lightly, and your senses became more aware as a muted thud rang outside your second-story bedroom window. You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleepy confusion as dust particles dance in the sunbeams of your room.

It took you a few seconds to realize why today was so important, but once you remembered- it had you scattering out of bed to your window, pulling back the sheer laced curtains, and taking a peak outside.

There was a truck you didn't recognize parked in the driveway. It was slightly newer than your dad's, but that's not saying much; a simple 2-door with an extended bed, slightly lifted with sturdy-looking tires.

A slim figure stood next to the driver's side door, hands on their hips as they looked up at the house. To your surprise, it wasn't a man at all.

You squint, trying to get a better look at her without realizing how big of a creep you are being.

Her hair shined a brilliant shade of auburn in the morning light, a brown button up shirt with the sleep rolled up to her elbows, slightly flared and worn denim jeans hugged her hips with brown cowboy boots that seemed to match the leather of her belt.

You caught a glimpse of something on her arm, dark lines that disrupted her pale skin. It was a tattoo, although you could make out the details of the design.

She looked the part of someone who knows how to run a farm, but something about her seemed so out of place- almost like she was too pretty for such a dirty job.

While you were too busy eyeing her up and down, you didn't realize she had caught you. She put her hand up, holding it there for a second before bringing it back down to her side. You wave back, a slight wiggle of you fingertips which made her smile.

You watch her walk out of the frame of your window before sitting on the edge of your bed- your fingers grasping at the embroidered comforter. You had this weird feeling in your tummy; it was something you couldn't explain, almost like nausea but also like when you go on a big rollercoaster.

You felt nervous but excited all at the same time. You figured it was because she was around your age, maybe slightly older- shrugging it off as you got up and got ready for the day.

You brush your hair before tying it into two loose braids, finishing it with light pink ribbons at the ends. You wanted to put a little more effort into your appearance today since you're meeting someone new, and as daddy always said, "First impressions are the most important."

You take a deep breath in the last most of solitude of your room before making your way down the stairs, the conversation between the stranger and your father growing louder and louder from the kitchen as you inched closer.

"There she is-" your dad motions an arm in your direction, the stranger immediacy turning to meet your face.

"Ellie, this is my daughter, y/n, and y/n, this is Ellie."

"It's nice t' meet you, Ellie." You said in your sweetest voice you could muster as you walk towards her, holding a hand out.

"Likewise." She smiles, taking your hand in hers and shakes it firmly. She seemed respectful, maybe even a little flustered- seeing that her cheeks started to turn a deep shade of pink.

Upon seeing her closer, it didn't help settle your nerves. She was gorgeous; freckles adorned her alabaster skin, a scar that ran through her eyebrow and upper lip, and her eyes a mossy shade of green with dark, long lashes framing the shape.

She was honestly the prettiest girl you've ever seen but not in the same way you were often described. There was a boyish charm to her that you had never seen before.

"Well- best we get to it then." Your dad chimes in, causing you to let go of the calloused hand that you hadn't realized you were still holding onto.

"I'll see you around Ellie." You just barely make audible to her, bitting down on your bottom lip before turning on your heel and leaving them to do their jobs.

Ellie was almost speechless upon meeting you. Never in a million years did she ever think a girl like you could live in this small country town, but fuck, leave it to her luck- you were the boss's daughter, which means you were off limits.

You didn't make it easy on her either, prancing around in your little summer dress that flowed with your movements, rising dangerously high when you would turn around, almost giving her a peek of your ass.

Ellie swallowed hard each time, the saliva filling her mouth with all the dirty thoughts she had- which mostly consisted of you underneath her, completely naked and trembling after she forced a 4th orgasm out of you.

The sun was starting to set, blanketing the canvas in shades of orange and pink, and to your disappointment- Ellie would be leaving soon.

She was walking towards her truck, slightly dragging her feet from exhaustion, and you're happy she did so. It gave you enough time to run out of the house barefoot, container filled with the homemade goods in your hands.

"Ellie!-" you called out to her which made her turn around, her hand opening the driver side door.

You nearly bump into her, slightly out of breath as you held up the tupperware with both of your hands.

"Sorry- I made them last night, must've forgotten in to give 'em' to you earlier." Again, your voice is so sweet and innocent- like honey coated candies on her tongue.

A smirk grows on her face, taking the gift from you to inspect them.

"That's mighty kind of you.. oh no, are these blueberries?"

Your face contorts to concern, and Ellie can't help but think how fucking cute you look all worried like that.

"Yeah, why? Do you not like 'em?" You pout, almost like you're on the verge of tears

A low chuckle reverberates in her throat, "I'm just messing with you, doll. They look delicious."

"Meanie."

A few seconds of silence go by, and Ellie looks everywhere except your face, and I mean everywhere- including the plushness of your breast that spilled over the top of your dress - she couldn't have you knowing how red her cheeks are right now.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She said it almost like a question- as if you'd miss out on such an opportunity.

"See you tomorrow, Ellie. Goodnight." You stand on your tippy toes, planting a quick kiss on the rounds of her cheeks, and run back inside, leaving Ellie in full panic mode.

She gets into her truck, taking a moment to herself before turning over the engine. Her fingers tighten around the steering wheel as she replays it in her head. She felt like she could combust, literally and figuratively- her head came down to rest on the wheel, and her cheeks ached from the smile that wouldn't seem to leave her lips.

In fact- she thought about it all night long. When she showered, when she laid in bed trying to sleep, she was tingling, an ache growing inside the depths of her stomach.

I mean, could you blame her? You didn't try to hide how hard you stared or how flirtatious you were towards her.

Maybe you were just like that with everyone.

Still- it didn't stop her. And It didn't stop her hand from slipping into the waistband of her checkered pajama pants, and it definitely didn't stop her from fingering herself to thoughts of you.

She came hard that night, harder than she had before, and she can't help but wonder- if simply her imagines of you felt this good, how would fucking you for real feel?

❥ taglist - @machetegirl109

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marleyybluu · 7 months

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Two And Counting

husband/dad!Oscar Diaz x fem!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: 18+, smut in your rearview mirror, just a quickie, pregnancy sex, p in v, reverse cowgirl in the bathtub (heeeeeyyyy), just two people in love, some fluff, Oscar is vocaaaal, talks you through it.

A/N: I was high so excuse any misspellings, definitely not proof-read. Also I've never been pregnant lol so I have no idea if this would work irl, but hey that's why we're here, this is not real life.

this was fun to write lol but I lowkey don’t like the title

(not my picture, got it from Pinterest. I want him to **** ** *****)

It was late at night, the house was quiet. Almost too quiet. You were so used to hearing your five-year-old call your name, the repetitive "Mommy! Mommy!" Still ringing in your ear. You sighed, you'd dropped him off at your mother's house for the weekend, he loved going to grandma's and honestly? You needed a break. Just at least an hour to yourself. But now it was so strange not hearing him babbling around the house.

Once you'd come back home you had taken a well-deserved shower but after your shower, you just felt the weird urge to soak in a bath. So you hovered over to the detached bathtub and filled up the tub, squeezing a bit of your bubble bath into the water. You carefully dipped yourself inside the tub, and a sigh of relief and satisfaction left your lips. You smiled closing your eyes one hand on the rim of the tub and the other, palm splayed all over your growing belly. Six months. They'd gone by so quickly, your stomach grew— a huge difference between two months ago and now. It was crazy.

"Hi pumpkin, you okay in there?" You mumbled rubbing soothing circles on your belly. The flick of the bathroom light and the bright beams of the fluorescent bulb ruined your little relaxation time. You looked over your shoulder, your husband Oscar standing in the doorway. Wearing his flannel pyjama pants and... no shirt. Mhm.

His tattoos are on display for you, his arms crossed and his biceps flexed. Why did he have to be so hot? "You two having a good time in here?" He asked. "We were, turn off the light, that's what my candles are for." You complained. Oscar rolled his eyes turning off the light at your command, he walked in, now leaning against the counter. You smiled. "Done with your game?"

He nodded.

"Hungry? There are leftovers-"

"Already ate cariño." He interrupted. You nodded slowly. "How's baby doing?" A smile creeps on his face. He'd been showing all thirty-two teeth since you told him you were expecting another. You shuddered with delight remembering how he was when you were carrying your son. Oscar always had his hands on you, wanting to bend you over anywhere and anytime. He expressed how much he loved seeing you like this. Beautifully in your element, sugarcoating you by saying, moaning; "You were made to carry my babies." As he seemingly pumped another one inside you.

"He's good."

"She." He corrected. He was certain you were having a girl. "She." You mocked, though it did make your heart flip at the thought of him holding a baby girl.

He asks, "Do you want some more company in there?"

Your eyes twinkle at the offer and that's all the confirmation he needed before he began pulling down his pyjama pants off, his boxers were next. You gaze lasering down to his half-hard dick, your tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You nodded eagerly and made some room for him, you scooted forward and he sat behind you pulling you onto him once he was comfortable. You perch on his lap, leaning back into his hold. He wrapped his arms around you, a warm kiss on your cheek. "Te amo." He whispered. "Te amo. You miss Raphi yet?" You giggle. "I missed him the minute we left your mom's place."

"Hm, me too." You hummed. Oscar's hands refused to stay in one place, rubbing circles on your belly, measuring the perimeter with his hands. "I can't believe we're having another one." He whispered. "I know," Your hands overlapping his. "We gotta have like four more."

You gasped lightly pinching him. "Do you see what pregnancy does to a woman's body?"

"I see what it does to yours. And I love it."

Oscar couldn't keep his eyes off of you, you could always feel him staring through you-- a "You are so fucking fine." Would slip out every time. You playfully rolled your eyes, his hands sliding to the underside of your belly, a bit close to your heat, you not so subtly buck your hips forward. You moan at the faint brush of his dick against your pulsating clit.

"We can have one more, and then we're done." You sighed, his hand slipped down further, his palm hovering over your mound. "Three." He bargained. There was no way this was happening right now.

Your nipples poke you, his teasing was getting to you. "One." You insisted. He chuckled as his slender finger ran down your slit, teasing your hole. Your legs spread a bit wider but there wasn't much room in the tub. His warm lips sucking on your soapy skin, you smell like lavender and fucking sunshine, that's how you always smelt. So warm and inviting. That's how you were and that's why loved you so much.

"Two." His last offer before his fingers slowly find their way inside you. "Ooh... Oscar."

You could feel a smile of victory against your skin, he took his fingers out and rested them on your clit. Your hips buck once again. "Two." He said.

For fuck sake!

"Okay, okay, two. Just move, please."

He laughed, you'd scowl at him if he didn't start rubbing your bundle of nerves. Your head fell back on his shoulder, one hand worked between your legs while the other squeezed your sensitive breasts, tweaking your nipples. You whined moving your hips forward, you didn't even care anymore, you were so desperate to get to where you needed to be.

Oscar groaned, "Mi amor, despacito, you're so needy."

"Oscar, fuck, please. I just want you inside me." You cried out. He kissed your back, his hands on your waist as he adjusted you over his full length, he slipped in carefully. Your eyes disappeared, the whites were the only part that showed, your jaw slacked open. "¿Estas bíen?"

You could only manage to nod. He slid down the tub, lying down at an angle so you could be comfortable, you lay back on him and with his help, you raise your hips up and down on his shaft. He was stretching you out in the best way, a delicious sensation coursing through your skin as he penetrated you so deeply, fuck you were so full.

"My pretty baby. Look at how fucking pretty you are. I'm keeping you pregnant." He cooed mumbling the last part. If he kept making you feel this good, you might just give him what he wants. His mushroom tip poked and prodded at the sweet spot buried inside you. You cry and clench around him, your pussy almost weeping and begging for more. "Coño Bonita."

Your head lulled back as he whispered in your ear, nibbling on the lobe from time to time. "You feel so good, so soft. fuck." He strained. His hand found its way between your thighs once again, his fingers playing with your equally needy clit. It was becoming too much. "Oh god, baby... O-Oscar!"

You were there. You were right there.

"I-I'm- I'm-"

"I know, it's okay, go ahead."

As if you needed the permission you didn't know you were asking for. Your body twitched, legs shaking as they closed around his wrist that was still snug between them. You squirmed, your orgasm taking over your body. Electricity piercing your veins. "Keep coming for me, don't worry."

He was using you to get himself to his peak and it was hot, he wasn't stopping, your body continuously moving up and down. Hugging his thickness for his pleasure. "I'm cumming, in that pretty fucking pussy, hermosa."

You were long gone, your body limp as your high was coming down. You quietly moaned feeling his hot seed spread inside you, you giggled lazily. "Fuck..." He chuckled. "You okay?"

"Mhm." You sounded sleepy. "Come on, we'll clean off before you fall asleep in here." He laughed.

You let him do all the work, washing you off before himself then helping you out of the tub wrapping a towel around you.

You quickly dried off and headed inside your shared bedroom, going over to your side of the dresser where all your products stood. You did your usual night routine and once you were done you found yourself in one of his old shirts and one of his baggy shorts. He laughed lightly as he entered the room.

You looked down at yourself, you did look a bit ridiculous. "What?" You pouted. He made his way over to you, his hands cupping your face, your palms cuffing his wrists. "You are so fucking cute and I fucking love you." He smiled pressing a kiss to your lips, you dissolved in his touch, melting into his kiss. He pulled back slightly but you chased him reattaching your lips.

There was that feeling between your legs again. "Ma-mamita." He chuckled as you smooched him. You whined. He kissed your forehead letting go of your face. His hand hitting your, lately overly ample, ass. You squealed. "Get on the bed." He instructed untucking his towel from his waist.

"Wha-"

He spanked you again.

"I'm trynna show you why we're gonna have four more."

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated. see you in the next one. peace and love 🤙🏾

Tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb

who might be interested: @blkbutterfly816 @miyahmaraj @librarian1002 @bigenergy777

#oscar diaz #spooky x reader #oscar diaz x fem!reader #spooky fanfic #spooky fanfiction #on my block fanfic #on my block #on my block fanfiction #smut #oscar diaz smut #marleywrites #marleysfanfictions

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astrophileous · 8 months

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Love Bugs (Pt. 06)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): cursing--there's a lot of it--like a lot, psychopathic behaviors, being held captive, verbal and physical violence, degrading nicknames, talks of death and unaliving someone, strangulation, PLS READ WITH CAUTION BECAUSE THIS PART IS REALLY GRIM I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING

Word Count: 4200-ish

Tag(s): I'm tagging everyone who requested to be tagged prior to the long hiatus, pls tell me if you'd like to NOT be included in the tag list for future updates, thanks! @marvelousgoldroses @jay-2s-world @whore-of-the-pumpkin-patch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @cat-or-kitten @littleshadow17 @itzz-me-duh @geeksareunique @paisleebubbles @whateverrrrrrrrs @crazyunsexycool @louderfortheback @wifeyofeveryone

Author's Note: HI EVERYONE HOW ARE YOU?? I know this is long overdue, but pls enjoy the new part of love bugs! I'm so happy to be posting again and I hope you like what I've got in plans for this series. I think we only have one or maybe two chapters left for this story (depending whether I want to write an epilogue or not lol) but in the meantime, pls enjoy this part and don't forget to LIKE+REBLOG+COMMENT !!! thank you 🌹

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

The bullpen of FBI headquarters was still reeling in the aftermath of a Derek-Morgan-shaped hurricane.

Emily was just about to enter the vicinity again when she heard the tail end of Derek's furious words, right before Hotch had ordered him to retreat.

"What was that about?" Emily asked as she approached Rossi's side, eyes never straying from the two men who soon disappeared into Hotch's office.

Rossi never addressed Emily's question. Instead, he gestured for her--and everybody else in the room--to be quiet with a finger on his lips, before he pressed the unmute button on the telephone.

"Hello?"

The UnSub's head jerked at Rossi's unfamiliar voice. You were barely successful in getting him to calm down following Derek's unexpected outburst, but the sound of Rossi's voice was threatening to throw all of those poor attempts straight out of the window.

"Who is that?" he demanded warily. "Where's Agent Hotchner?"

"He had to step away for a second," Rossi notified. "I'm SSA David Rossi. I also work with Agent Hotchner and Agent (Y/L/N)."

"I know who you are."

"Yeah? I still don't know who you are, though."

A responding groan vibrated from the other line. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do you think I'm fucking dumb?"*

"No one thinks anything here, pal. Just wanted to know who I was speaking to, that's all." At the UnSub's clear signs of agitation, Rossi quickly added, "It'd be nice to know the person who clearly means a lot to (Y/N)."

Rossi's reassurance obviously managed to trigger the intended effect it had sought. Everyone could see how the UnSub physically deflated at Rossi's words, meaning that hopefully he was soon going to let his guard down.

"I can't tell you who I am," your assailant said, still adamant, although his resolve was wearing thin with each word he had stated. "You're just gonna use it to track me down and keep us apart."

The last syllable of his sentence was emphasized by the weight of his dagger on the side of your neck. You instinctively winced at the unwelcomed touch of the blade before schooling your expression once more so your captor wouldn't notice.

"I promise you, no one is going to do that," Rossi said.

"He's telling the truth," you decided to chime in, surprising everyone including the UnSub whose grip of the dagger had teetered dangerously closer to your pulse point at the sudden proclamation. "They are good people. They don't break promises or tell lies. I promise you, nothing will come between us."

The silence that fell next was heavy with the UnSub's hesitation. Bracing yourself, you forced your head to tilt back, locking eyes with him who was still standing like a guard dog right behind you.

"I swear, Darling," you vowed.

The lull in your voice--or perhaps the fact that you had called him darling in front of your team, which he could arguably take as a display of affection--must have stirred up something in his twisted mind. He actually preened at you before his eyes went right back towards the direction of the camera on the wall.

"My name is Arthur," he confessed.

A particular thread of memory in your brain immediately lit up.

Back in the bullpen, JJ and Spencer were finally returning with documents containing your phone records that they had promptly asked Kevin to gather. Spencer didn't waste any time before perching himself on his desk to start rummaging through the thick pile of files.

"Arthur?" Rossi repeated the name, eyes flicking over to Garcia with a silent request to start cross-referencing the name with the other names they had acquired so far in the investigation.

The tech analyst didn't need to be told twice. She began typing furiously on her laptop as Rossi's attention was drawn back towards the projector.

The UnSub hadn't moved an inch. His hand was still just as sturdy on your shoulder. The blade was also still just as cold as it pressed onto your skin.

One wrong move, and you would end up no better than a slaughter animal on the cold hard ground.

"Do you have a last name, Arthur?" Rossi asked.

The entire bullpen held their breath in anticipation. Rossi had planted the bait as strategically as he could. It was up to the UnSub to take it and slip up the one information that would give them a major lead to end this case once and for all.

But before the UnSub could respond, a muffled beeping resonated in the air, through the telephone line, and finally into the bullpen. The sound was enough to make your assailant faltered.

"I have to go."

It was the last thing he uttered before the line, along with the livestream, went completely dead.

The atmosphere was laden with restlessness as everyone tried to make peace with the fact that they had just lost the only mean of communication they had with you. Without the feed from the livestream, no one could possibly know what was going on. The team would have no idea if something were to happen to you.

They would have no idea how to determine whether you were alive or dead.

"Did you find anything yet, Garcia?" Rossi questioned, although in all honestly, it sounded more like a desperate plea.

The thick regret behind Garcia's eyes gave Rossi the answer he needed to know.

"I can't find any Arthur in our files, sir," Garcia informed.

"Anything from her phone records? What about the hospital?" Rossi tried again.

Emily shook her head almost remorsefully.

"Nothing yet," Spencer spoke up from his place on the desk. "Not a single thing stands out from her records."

"What now?" JJ sighed, exhaustion and worry beginning to decorate the lines on her face.

The whole bullpen stood still, as if everyone was waiting for a slice of miracle to descend into the room, holding a map that would eventually lead the team to where you were still being held captive. But such a map didn't exist in this piece of reality, and the BAU knew that they were running out of time.

"Garcia, did you record the livestream by any chance?" Spencer asked at last.

"Yeah, of course I did."

Penelope punched a few keys on her keyboard before the projector once again came alive with the footage from the livestream.

"Can you fast forward to the very end?" Spencer requested. "And then play it again backwards to the beginning."

"What are you thinking, Spence?" JJ wondered.

"I don't know. I just... maybe there's a detail we missed. At this point, even the smallest piece of clue is worth pursuing."

Several pair of eyes glued themselves on the screen as the livestream footage ran backward at a faster speed. Bated breaths waited in tension for just the tiniest hint that the team could scour to determine your location.

"Wait. What was that?" Spencer interjected. "Garcia, play that again."

"What? What is it?" Emily spoke up.

"Look at her hand." Spencer stood up from the desk, approaching the screen to get a better look. "She's knocking against the chair. Garcia, zoom in on her hand. The left one."

Penelope did as she was asked. "Is that--"

"It's morse code," Rossi muttered, realization overtaking his countenance.

"What is she saying?" JJ questioned.

"A-U--" Spencer began spelling out loud, "--T... Auto. She's spelling auto."

"Auto?" JJ's forehead creased. "As in... auto shop?"

"Her records said she went to a mechanic a week ago," Spencer recalled. JJ immediately rummaged through the papers on Spencer's desk, but the pages flipping inside of Spencer's mind moved at a thousand times more speed than any normal pair of eyes ever could. "Dinozzo's Auto Service, 894 Southwell Street."

"Got it," Penelope chimed in from her place in front of the laptop. "Dinozzo's Auto Shop. Originally owned by Carlo Dinozzo before it was passed down to his two sons after his death a year ago."

"Any of them named Arthur?" Rossi asked

"Nope. Luca and Piero."

"What about the employees?" Emily suggested.

"No. I'm not seeing any Arthur anywhere near that place."

"We profiled that the UnSub could be holding down a steady job in his everyday life," JJ said. "He might not even be related to that place. Maybe (Y/N) encountered him there by chance?"

"Nah, I doubt it." Rossi shook his head. "The bastard's too sophisticated to leave anything up to chance like that. He must have found a way to orchestrate it one way or another."

"There must be a connection somewhere, then. No way he just chose a random place off the map," Emily muttered. "We should cross-reference the name to anyone associated with the Dinozzos."

Penelope began to frantically type something into her laptop. "We've still got three names here. Oh, never mind. Two names, 'cause one of them is dead."

"What do we have on them?" Spencer asked.

"First is Arthur Doyle. He went to high school with Luca and Piero Dinozzo, works in a local company, and looks like he travels a lot for his job," Penelope explained. "There's also an Arthur Harrison, works as an accountant in the heart of Arlington. His dad and Carlo Dinozzo were long-time pals. Apparently, his dad was an accountant too and used to handle the shop's finances before Arthur inherited the office. Oh."

"What? What'd you find?"

"Arthur was engaged," Penelope murmured, "to a Claire Dumont. They were gonna get married last year but the wedding was called off just one month before the D-day."

"Where's Claire now?" JJ asked.

"She moved to Ohio shortly after the breakup, and... oh my God. Guess what?" Penelope looked up, her eyes widening almost comically. "She just announced her engagement three months ago."

Spencer hummed. "That could be the stressor."

An image of a woman suddenly appeared on screen, right above the paused footage of your hand. Everyone stared at the picture in shock.

"That's Claire Dumont," Penelope murmured.

JJ held her breath. "She and (Y/N) could be sisters."

"We've found our guy," Rossi declared. "Garcia, pull up every known address associated with this man. And hurry, we don't have much time."

"I have three properties so far connected to Arthur Harrison. Sending the addresses to all of your phones."

As JJ, Spencer, and Rossi rushed to exit the bullpen, Emily turned around and called out to the others, "I'm grabbing Morgan and Hotch!"

Without stopping to knock, Emily pushed open the door to Hotch's office, ignoring the slivers of tension dancing around in the air.

"We may have something," Emily announced to the room. "We think we know where (Y/N) is."

Your assailant--Arthur, as it turned out--pulled his phone out and pressed a few buttons in, silencing the beeping. Once the noise was gone, the room was quiet again.

He looked at you, then. Piercingly. You squirmed underneath his scrutiny.

"Wait here," he eventually said. "I'll be back."

Without taking a second to breathe, Arthur flew past you and towards the direction he had appeared from earlier.

"Wait! Wait. Where are you going?"

The sound of steps ceased on top of concrete. You waited with bated breath for his response. But the only sound ever came was that of the metal door, and as quickly as you could count to three, he was gone.

At last, you were alone once more.

The traces of adrenaline had begun to dissipate out of your system, leaving you in a shivering mess inside that damp concrete room. Once again, you attempted with all of your might to free yourself from the state of confinement you were in. But the metal cuffs binding you to the chair only dug further into your skin the more you tried to escape, while the chair itself stayed nailed in place no matter how hard you tried to rock it.

After a few more minutes of futile attempts, you were forced to face the reality of your situation.

You were never going to get yourself out of that dingy place alone.

Huffing a breath, you knew that there was nothing more you could do except to hope that your team found the hidden message you had left for them to solve.

And with that last thought conquering every room your head, you let yourself succumb to the impending darkness.

You woke up gasping for air.

It took you a few seconds to remember where you were, to remember that you weren't back in the comfort of your apartment and instead, you were still holed up in the darkened cold room where your abductor had been keeping you captive.

It took a few seconds more to realize that the drowning dream you just had might have been a tad bit more real than you initially thought.

Still reeling in shock, you peered up and locked eyes with your abductor, eyes barely registering the empty bucket he was holding in one of his hands. It didn't take a genius to conclude that he was the one responsible for your drenched state.

"W-what?" you stuttered meekly. "What's going on?"

He only stared at you in response.

"Arthur?"

You shrieked loudly when Arthur threw the empty bucket against the wall, sending a resounding "bang" throughout the whole room and breaking the plastic object into two misshaped pieces.

"Arthur--" you gasped, searching for your voice that seemed to have disappeared beneath the layers of brewing fear, "--w-what... what are you... what's going on? Talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you, you fucking bitch."

The beating inside your chest fastened. Before you could ask yet another question, Arthur had lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so you could stare directly into his eyes.

"You're a fucking liar," he seethed. "You lied to me. Everything you said was a lie, wasn't it?!"

"I don't--" you hissed, trying to ignore the biting pain in your scalp, "--I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Stop fucking lying!!!"

A sharp smack reverberated in the air.

It was only when the ringing in your ear grew louder did you realize that Arthur had slapped your cheek.

Hard.

Ignoring the tingling on the side of your face, you lifted your head once more. The room was spinning, tilting your balance left and right, but you held your ground through it all.

"What did I lie to you about, Arthur?" you asked carefully.

He threw something at your feet. It clanged against the hard ground below before landing face up near your toes.

It was your phone.

But the fact that Arthur somehow had your phone in his possession wasn't what caused the sick feeling to stir northward in your belly.

It was what you were seeing on the now cracked screen of your phone: a picture of you and Derek. A selfie that you had impulsively taken of the two of you in bed after one of your nighttime escapades.

For awhile there, you had briefly forgotten about that photo. It was another lost memory in the ocean of rubble left behind in the wake of your fallout with Derek. Seeing that photo again after such a long time triggered waves of emotions that you had been desperately burying for the past few weeks.

The longing, the guilt, the heartache.

The regrets.

The regret of ending your little arrangement so abruptly in such a hostile manner. The regret of not telling Derek sooner about the baby. The regret of maybe never being able to see Derek for one last time.

But most importantly, it was the regret over not revealing the truth of what your heart felt for him that was eating you alive.

"You're fucking him," Arthur fumed, eyes blazing with an indescribable fury that made your entire body shudder.

"Arthur, please... I can explain--"

"Shut the fuck up."

He stepped forward once more, crowding your personal place and rendering you helpless underneath his psychopathic gaze.

"Tell me the truth, and if you dare lie--" Arthur paused, his hand disappearing behind his back before it appeared again with a dagger that he promptly pressed against your abdomen, "--don't ever dream of meeting your child."

"Okay. Okay, I'll tell you the truth."

"You're fucking him, aren't you?"

The bile in your throat had tripled in size. Swallowing it down, you tried to even your voice out as you answered, "I was."

"Ha," he scoffed. "I knew it. You fucking whore. You're no better than any of them."

To your relief, he eventually chose to retract the dagger and stepped away from you, opting to circle the room like a distressed lion in a cage. But even with the blade no longer touching your skin, you knew very well that the danger wasn't over yet and that things could escalate even further in a matter of seconds if you weren't careful.

"Arthur," you called out to him softly, slowly, as to not startle him and risk doing something that would trigger a psychotic break. "Arthur, please. You have to listen to me. That arrangement ended long ago. It meant nothing to me. It happened long before I met you."

Arthur's voice echoed coldly as he replied, "I don't believe you."

"Please, Arthur--"

"That's his child, isn't it?" he cut you off, pointing the tip of the dagger at your belly. "What he said on the phone. He said my child. That's because it's his. You're having Derek Morgan's child."

"No--"

"I thought you were different. I thought you were the one." The dagger in his hand shook with venom. "But you're just the same as the rest of them."

"I'm not. Please, I'm not--"

"I have to start searching again. For the one. You're not her, which means she's still out there."

"Arthur--"

"I'll have to get rid of you."

"Arthur, please!" Your voice cracked, leaking of terror and desperation larger than anything you had ever known. When something wet touched the side of your nose, you realized then that you had started to cry. "Arthur, you have to believe me. I've ended everything with him. There's nothing between us anymore."

The words you uttered kept lingering in the air in a bubble made out of despair. But as if every single one of them had fallen on deaf ears, your captor paid no attention to them. Not even a single acknowledgment to your pleas.

Instead, he had begun taking careful steps forward. Silent and deadly, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Arthur, please! I choose you!"

To your shock, his steps faltered upon your words.

For a moment, you could taste relief on the tip of your tongue before it was washed away by the knowledge that you were not entirely out of the woods yet. But from the corner of your eye, you could see the slight loosening of Arthur's grip around the dagger. It filled you with enough hope to push forward.

"I'm choosing you, Arthur," you stated confidently, trying to convince him of your sincerity. "I don't care about Derek. I'm done with him. I'm done with my old life and everyone in it. I'm ready to leave everything behind to be with you. I choose you."

"You choose me?"

"Yes. I choose you to take care of me. To take care of this baby. The three of us can be a family. How does that sound?"

Seconds ticked into minutes. Minutes stretched into a long silence. The anticipation threatened to break your chest in half.

When he finally began to move once more, Arthur surprised you. He threw the dragger towards a darkened corner in the room, far away from his reach and, most importantly, far away from the possibility of it harming the growing life inside of you.

When Arthur took off the ski mask he had been wearing since the first time you opened your eyes in that harrowing place, you weren't at all surprised to see the face staring back at you. After all, it was the same face belonging to the man who had stopped his car for you when your own car had mysteriously broken down in the middle of the road just around two weeks prior. The same face who offered a business card of his friend's auto shop where you eventually went to get your vehicle fixed.

In retrospect, you should have been at least a little bit suspicious by the whole ordeal, but was it really your fault for choosing to put your trust in the good of humanity?

You knew there was no point in dwelling over what-ifs anymore. Arthur would've found a way, like any psychopath would, and you would've still ended up being tied up in this dismal room with him.

"Did you mean it?" Arthur asked.

You put on your best fake smile before answering, "Yes."

He grabbed you in his arms in just two long strides.

You wanted to throw up. You hated the feeling of his fingers stroking your back. You wanted to kick him away and get this piece of shit as far away from you and your baby as possible. You wanted to rid yourself of the lingering smell of him that had now undoubtedly transferred into your skin.

And maybe, you would've done all of those things if it was only your life that was on the line.

Unfortunately, fighting back was a luxury you couldn't afford anymore. So, you were forced to stay quiet instead, letting your captor whisper sweet nothings in your ear as if it didn't repulse you even being in the same room as him.

You were close to counting towards the 200s in your head when, suddenly, a clanking noise in the distance ripped your attention away.

In a split second, Arthur had peeled his arms from around you and got back on his feet. You knew then that he must have heard it, too.

You watched as he stepped away, dragging a crate from one corner of the room and placing it strategically underneath the only opening on the walls. He got on top of the crate to allow himself to peek outside, but whatever he saw must have startled him greatly. Because the next thing you knew, he had backed away from the wall in the blink of an eye, face crumpling in what could only be described as panic.

"The cops are here," he managed to sputter out.

"What?"

Your heart was hammering inside of its cage. The cops are here. You realized then that the team must have solved the clue you left them. They had solved the case, and they were coming to save you.

Derek was coming to save you.

"What did you do?!"

In a moment of weakness, you had allowed yourself to rejoice in the promise of freedom that you momentarily forgot you actually hadn't possessed it yet. The slip-up was miniscule, but it wasn't fleeting enough to escape the attention of your captor.

"You tricked me!" Arthur's voice boomed throughout the room, carrying rage unlike anything you had ever known. "I trusted you, and you lied to me! Again."

"Arthur--"

This time, there was no room for negotiation.

Arthur didn't even waste a millisecond before he dove forward. He was a lion, and you were the deer. His sharp teeth were calloused fingers, and they dug into your skin as Arthur tightened his grip around your throat.

"You lied to me. You lied to me."

He repeated those words like a mantra, his voice drowned out by desperate gasps as you tried to scour for what little bit of air you could still revel in. Your feet and arms shook beneath their restrains. Your head pounded from the pressure that had gathered inside your skull.

In that moment, death was imminent.

You could feel it coming. You could feel its claws clutching every single drop of life that was still remaining in your bloodstream. It was a battle between the two, and unfortunately, death was winning.

As the dark spots in your vision spread into a massive blotch, you allowed yourself to say goodbye. To life. To the world. To the memories of your loved ones whose faces you wished you could've memorized one last time.

To Derek, the one who could've been, the one you wished had been.

And to the child in your womb, the one you wished you could've met, the one you wished you could've saved.

When darkness came, you expected it to be cold and unforgiving, but as it turned out, darkness was easy. Simple. It welcomed you into its home with open arms, shielding you from the cruelties of the mundane world.

As it pulled you deeper into its abode, you could faintly hear the sound of your name being called repeatedly. It sounded similar. It sounded like home.

But this was your home now, so without turning back, you allowed darkness to lead you further down the dim path. Away from the pain and the heartbreaks of life. Far from the evil that lurked in the streets behind their well-crafted masks.

In the darkness, there was nothing.

In the darkness, you were nothing.

And nothing was exactly what you were going to be.

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daisybianca · 8 months

Text

pairing: lewis hamilton x femalereader

summary: lewis gives you secretly his number. you're hesitant to call him at first, but when you do, things get a little much more interesting.

warnings: sexual activities, cursing words

(a/n): this is the last part! here's part one and part two.

YOU CHUCKLED AS Lewis excused himself to bring some more wine for the two of you.

You got more comfortable on the couch and fixed the silk material of your clothing.

When he came back, he filled your glass and then his.

"What do you do for a living?" He asked before taking his seat next to you once again.

"I'm a journalist." You answered, taking a small sip from the delicious liquid. "A sports journalist."

Lewis' eyes narrowed. "Formula one?"

"Nope," you said. "Basketball."

You noticed that he rolled his eyes. "Pity."

"What? You wanted me interviewing you, sir Lewis Hamilton?"

You caught a glimpse of something in his eyes as he smiled, bitting his lips before talking. "Maybe," he said, drinking from his wine and looking vacantly somewhere behind you. "That'd be very... very torturing." He said, his voice almost barely above a whisper.

"What was that?!" You laughed, your hands flying in the air. "What was that?!" You repeated again.

"Nothing." He said, smiling widely.

You studied his look. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Trying to." He answered, and you noticed that his hands were rested on the couch, just behind the area of your neck and head. "Does it work?" He looked up at you as he took another sip.

You bit your lips and felt that you were inevitably blushing. Looking at your nervous hands, circling the glass, you noticed his lap and the tattoos on the flesh of it.

It was very... very rideable.

"Maybe," you said, then a thought kicked in. "You promised you'd tell me why I was the chosen one at the race. I'm all ears."

Lewis cleared his throat. "You really want me to tell you?"

"If it doesn't involve some kind of a bet, yes, please,"

"A bet?" His nose wrinkled in something that looked like disguist. "Fuck, I'm not that kind of man."

"Tell me, Lewis." Your mind was in a haze, your thoughts blurred by his pretty eyes, so your hand found the soft flesh of his upper arm.

His eyes detected your hand for a brief moment and then smiled.

Lewis discreetly moved his white shirt lower on his body. Maybe to fix it in order not to look wrinkled or... to hide something, maybe?

"I just..." he started. "I saw you. You didn't even look at me at first."

"Yeah, because I was trying to find my best friend who was hooking up with a McLaren mechanic." You explained, and Lewis expression changed into pure curiosity.

"Okay, I presume I don't need to know more about that," he chuckled. "I just--I just genuinely thought to myself for a brief moment that you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

Your knees weakened, and thank God, you were seated.

"I love it when you're blushing." He grinned and wouldn't take his eyes off your hot face. "It just makes the color of your eyes stand out more."

Silence.

You tried to change the topic. "You never signed my hat, by the way." You said.

"Do you want me to bring a pen? I can sign your hand if you want."

You smiled. "Yeah, whatever."

Lewis left and came back with a pen and a white shirt in his hands. He passed the shirt to you, but you didn't take it at first.

"What's that?" You wondered.

"A pumpkin." He said sarcastically and looked down at you. "What does it look like, love?"

"Oh, no, no." You shook your head negatively. "You're not gifting me one of your shirts."

He laughed and tossed the white material to you. "Why not? It's officially been worn by me."

"And?"

Lewis thought for a brief moment. "You can wear it at home and think about me." His eyes lit up.

"I--I can't accept it, I'm sorry." You tried to give it back to him but he grabbed your wrist.

"Put it on."

"What?" Your eyes narrowed.

He looked you with that intense, dark gaze. "Put it on." He repeated, comanding.

"Why?"

He smiled. "So I can sign it."

You knew where this was going, but you wanted to tease him a little.

"You can sign it unworn as well, you know."

"Yeah, but the shiet wouldn't be stretched enough, and the signature would come out bad-looking." Lewis insisted and passed the shirt to you.

You finally grabbed it. "Fine."

Shoving your hair to one side, you carefully pushed the material around your head and then let it wrap around your curves, covering the pink dress underneath.

You immediately got knocked out by a faniliar cologne. Gosh, this aroma would hunt you forever.

"Looks perfect on you." Lewis said and opened a black marker.

You noticed him biting his lip.

He.

Bit.

His.

Fucking.

Lip.

"Where do you want me to sign it exactly?" He asked, looking at you.

"I don't know." You replied, scanning the shirt for any empty space. "Maybe somewhere free of stamps and letters."

"Hmm..." He looked at your shirt, leaning forward. His eyes were practically on your tits.

"Here," you suggested, signaling to a spot on your chest, near your heart.

Lewis shallowed and looked up to face you. "Are you sure?"

"About what?"

His voice was soft. "Having my hands on you."

You smiled.

That man was literally perfection itself. "No problem. Go on."

He breathed in and then out. Then, his left hand found the area of your shoulder and grabbed it gently for resistance.

You stopped looking at him and knew he had started making the signature when a sharp thing touched your covered flesh.

"Is this okay?" Lewis' voice sounded a few seconds later. "Does it hurt?"

"Jesus, Lewis, it's just a damn marker!" You laughed, but he didn't seem to enjoy your comment.

He was done with the signature, you could tell. He was now writing something on your shirt. Even if you did want to read it, you couldn't. It was upsides down, and Lewis was also covering it up with his free hand as if it were a test and you were about to cheat.

His expressionless beautiful features didn't betray much of his thoughts.

You breathed and hoped that the brave side in you would kick in soon.

"What are you thinking of?" You blurted out before even fully considering what you were about to mouth.

Lewis clicked the marker shut and looked at you. "Nothing."

"Something must have been in your mind whole you were signing the shirt." You explained. "Tell me." You insisted with puppy eyes. "Please?"

He shallowed. Hard. "You want me to tell you the naked truth?"

"What are you scared of?" You eyes narrowed, and you grabbed your phone, opening the camera and reading what was now written on your freshly owned shirt.

His signature.

A heart and...

"With much love, Lewis."

Lewis' lips formed a thin line, and he scratched his almost nonexistent beard. "I'm scared of what might happen after this."

You chuckled, pushing the white clothing off you with a slow movement. "Just tell me, Lewis."

A fee moment of silence passed with Lewis studying you and you fixing your messy hair and dress.

"Honestly, I--" he started.

"Just tell me already!"

"You want me to tell you?" His voice rised dangerously.

"Yes!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

"No, you fucking don't, love." He insisted.

"I'm telling you I d--"

Your words were interrupted by his lips crushing hard with yours. Your tongues fought in a messy but also loud battle, and before you knew it, you were on top of him on the couch, your hands around his neck. His his left one was rested on your back, caressing the flesh there before cupping your eyes and giving it a squeeze, while the other was bringing you closer by touching your cheek.

"Lewis, I--" You breathed, trying to create some space between your bodies and faces.

He wouldn't let you go.

"I was thinking about how much I'd like to fuck you in that shirt."

His kiss had left you breathless, but his statement had left you something that wasn't currently in an official dictionary. Something that had just been added to your own vocabulary.

Wetful.

Gosh, is that even a word?

His lap was a great seat, you thought.

Lewis must have sensed your nervousness. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said th--"

"Lewis, grab me the shirt." You commanded, and his dark brown eyes found yours.

He did as he was told.

"Put it on me."

He smirked and did as he was told once again.

You were soaked underneath your underwear, you could tell. He could probably feel it on his lap too.

"Wanna know what I am thinking now?" You asked, breathless as his lips touched your neck and kept teasing and teasing.

He knew when to kiss you, where to kiss you, when to touch you, where to touch you...

This man could make any woman happy.

"Tell me."

"Fuck me in this shirt." You fixed the clothing to cover the area of your thighs. It was large enough to become a dress.

His big hands found your waist and rested there. Then his one hand found your ass and he squeezed it as if he was the owner of it.

"Done." Lewis said.

"Okay, but it won't be pretty." You stopped him just when he started kissing you again. "It might end up having white spots on it after you're done with me."

His fingers touched your lips, and you took the chance to playfully dig your teeth gently on one of them.

"Oh, love... I can give you a hundred of those, and they'd still wouldn't be enough with all those things I'm thinking about doing with you." Lewis smirked, and you took his two fingers in your mouth, savoring the taste of it as if it were a colorful lollipop. "Besides, I assure you that I don't want it to be pretty. I want it to be rough."

His lips collapsed with yours, and you teased, leaning away one last time. "Okay, but do me a favor."

"Anything for you, baby."

You smiled softly. "Keep calling me your love."

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ddollfface · 4 months

Text

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐥

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

"You're as hot as the bottom of my laptop, mamas ;)."

Trigger Warnings; gaslighting, manipulation, somewhat spreading misinformation, hinting at yandere behaviors, fluff, PDA, reader is referred to as a girl, honestly this is pretty tame lol If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ Just a few headcanons on a new OC. And, just so you know, when I was writing this, I had an afab!reader in mind! If you have any requests, idk why you would, but send them in! I hope you enjoy:)))

Never, ever refers to you as your given name. He prefers to call you by some type of nickname or pet name, depending on his mood. His go-to is mamas, sweet cheeks, baby cakes, hot stuff, good-lookin', and so much more. Honestly, he could go on all day, just listing different pet names he has for you. At this point, it's become a source of entertainment for you, trying to see what odd name he'll call you. Come on, you don't like that nickname, sugar plum? How about dolly? Baby girl? Pumpkin? I don't know, you look like an angel, baby.

Though you'll admit it, it's somewhat endearing to hear, especially when you know he's only called you these cute names. But at a certain point, it gets embarrassing... Like does your mama need to know that he calls you bubble butt, of all things? Let me answer that for you, no, no she does not. If anything, that's something she should never, ever know.

He demands that you come to his games; he doesn't want you to miss a single one. He'll show up to your house at the crack of dawn, on a Saturday, and drag you out of bed to bring you to his game. He doesn't give too shits if your hair looks like a mess or if you're still in your jams. Nope, not at all. If anything, he likes it. He thinks you're adorable with your Hello Kitty booty shorts.

He just wants you there, to support him. He wants to have his own personal cheerleader, someone who he can come to after the game, and give a hug too.

While the thought behind it is endearing and cute, that doesn't change the fact that he's just so pushy. He won't give up, no matter what. If he says you're going, then you're going. You don't get a say in the matter 'cause if you refuse to go, then he's going to bring out the waterworks. He's going to look at you with the saddest eyes you can imagine, there's even tears. He'll cock his head to the side and question you, asking why don't you want to support me? What happened to 'friends first? Remember when I went to that stupid party 'cause ya' didn't want to be alone? Where's my payback, yeah?

He'll use emotional manipulation to get what he wants, making you out to be the bag guy, instead of him. His guilt-tripping usually always works, well, so far it has. And now you're at some stupid hockey game, wrapped up in his jacket, wearing his team colors. Great, now people are asking how you bagged a guy like him. Jesus, where'd they get that idea from? You're not even dating...

Well, that's what you think. Little do you know, he's been going around town tellin' everyone about you. He'll hype you up to his buddies, rambling on and on about how you smell, how your cheeks puff up when you smile, and God, you're so pretty when you're sleeping. Wow, he doesn't mean that in a creepy way! Why would you think of it like that? Because he's just admiring the prettiest girl in school! Don't you know, mamas? You being here makes me the luckiest guy in town, yeah?

He's just so God damn touchy; people can't help but think ya'll are dating. Everything about your relationship screams dating. He's always got an arm around your shoulder, and if he's feeling really ballsy, he'll place a hand on your hip. Though those moments are far in between, seeing as you'll give him a hard side-eye when he does it.

But the PDA doesn't stop there. He'll hold your hand, claiming that he's just warming your hands. After all, it's pretty cold in the winter, yeah? He's just looking out for you, nothing to freak out over. Sometimes, he'll hug you a little too tight, and for a little too long. His touch lingers for such a prolonged time it causes you to look up at him with a questioning look.

Of course, he's the master of diverting your questions, shifting your conversations from his touchy behavior to finals. And this does nothing but piss you off, but it's hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that. The way he scoots his chair closer to yours, intertwining your pinkies together, and smiling at you like a dork. The way he'll bring you coffee (or warm tea, depending on your preference) during a cold morning, always making sure his baby's all warm. Or how he'll cover for you when you're late to a lecture, stalling the class for a few minutes, just enough for you to slip into class unnoticed.

All these small things let you forget about why you were even mad in the first place! I mean, what could he have done wrong? It couldn't be that bad right?

And just like that, you walk right back into his arms, not knowing that he's the one you should be running from. You're such a stupid girl, aren't you? Don't worry, I'll take care of you babes.

#bad writing #lovesick #obsessive love #yandere #lovesick!athlete x reader #𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 #𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere headcanons #headcanons #yandere oc #original character #new oc alert

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imnotasuperhero · 7 months

Text

Couldn't stop this if we wanted to.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Most of the time life can surprise you with revelations that can either break you or build you up.

A/N: I MADE IT! Well.. kinda. October turned to be a.. busy one. Lol. Here you have days 1, 9 and 23 of Promptober scrambled together since.. I couldn't come up with interesting stuff for each one so.. enjoy this prelude? to the next fic taking over day 20. Hope you enjoy this. This has not been proofread.

The cloudy day manifested itself with a welcomed chill, cold enough to add an extra layer of clothes and you knew exactly what to wear. This is how you found yourself in Natasha's room, rummaging through her wardrobe in search of your favorite sweater.

Once you finished dressing, you made your way to the common room waiting for Wanda to appear. This was her first Halloween season and you convinced her to live the full experience.

"Don't remember allowing you to wear my perfume, too." The deep voice of the redhead had you smiling sheepishly.

"You can't forbid me, anyways," you shrugged nonchalantly, giggling when Natasha pinched your side.

"You're cooking for me for a whole month."

Looking up from your phone, you frowned. "That's slavery."

"You wasted 20 bucks when you put on my perfume. You gotta pay back. With fee." She smiled wickedly, and you inhaled sharply.

But before you could retort, Wanda appeared in your range of vision, and you couldn't help the soft smile taking over. Her figure was covered by a baggy sweater that looked too inviting to live in.

"Hi, you." Standing up, you ignored the redhead as you walked towards Wanda, reaching over to comb her hair with your fingers, allowing yourself to bask in the feeling of her silky locks.

Looking down into her eyes, you saw her green orbs wide open, making you retreat your hand. "Sorry, your hair was ruffled," you almost whispered, cursing yourself for being so straightforward.

"It's okay," she smiled shyly and you felt your heart squeeze in a pleasant way.

"Ready to go?" You offered calmly. Nodding, Wanda accepted your extended hand.

The way to the pumpkin farm was quicker than you'd thought, and the energy exuding from the woman by your side had you enjoying every minute of it.

"This is big," Wanda pronounced with her gaze over the horizon.

"It's why I wanted to bring you before the best ones were taken." You squeezed her hand before you started walking through the endless path of pumpkins in all different shapes and sizes.

"So what we're looking for?" Wanda asked curiously.

"It's your choice," you smiled. "Just make sure it's a good one."

The way Wanda scrunched her nose had your heart melting like an ice cream on a hot day. But before you could lose yourself in your thoughts, your body reacted in automatic as Wanda dragged you through the big field and after a few minutes of discussing and deciding on the right pumpkin, you both found yourselves sitting at one of the picnic tables, with the needed tools between you two.

The next hour was spent between you cleaning the pumpkin first and then joining your and Wanda's skills to carve, sharing moments of your lives and finding small coincidences in them.

"Thank you," Wanda spoke after a few moments, breaking the comfortable silence that settled between you.

"What for?" You looked from the almost-done project to the brunette beside you.

"I always wondered what'd be like to participate in other culture's traditions. So I thank you for showing me." You could detect the sincerity in her eyes and your smile only grew bigger.

"It's my pleasure," you smiled, going back to your task at hand.

Through your periphery, you saw how Wanda hugged herself now that the sun started to hide and her fuzzy sweater wasn't warm enough.

"Want some hot cocoa?" You asked, cleaning the carving tools once you've finished.

"Is this one any similar to yours?" Wanda pointed to the booth a few feet away.

"It's good, but I was thinking about going somewhere warm," you waited for her response with anticipation.

"You're the local here," she smiled that little something that had you turning into a puddle.

Turning off the engine in front of your building, you quickly stepped out as you hurried to the passenger door, feeling something funny in your stomach at Wanda's small giggles.

Once inside your apartment, you busied yourself in the kitchen as Wanda roamed through your belongings, curiosity making itself known as she asked different things that went from photos to decorating objects.

"Is this a raven?"

At those words, you felt your soul do a reset as if you had reached nirvana. The baby hairs in your body stood up in anticipation of what was yet to come.

Turning around, you carefully walked to the brunette with both steamy mugs in your hands.

"It is," you answered, barely above a whisper, afraid this was just an evil joke from the universe.

"It's beautiful." You watched carefully as Wanda inspected the small charm with something akin to curiosity.

After all this time, she was the first person to notice the small pendant despite you having placed it in plain sight. Knowing very well the meaning of it, your mind and heart started a battle about how to proceed with this new information that unfolded in front of you.

"It smells amazing," Wanda placed the chained charm in its place before she walked to the couch, where she sat comfortably.

"It tastes even better," you smiled uncomfortably, handing her the remote.

"Can we listen to music, instead?" She asked ignoring the extended remote and you could only nod. Your eyes never left her movements as she fidgeted with her phone until a soft melody started to fill the room.

The next few moments were spent in silence, with just the music interrupting the comfortable silence and the sporadic comments you shared.

Truth be told, you were thankful for this new setting in your day since the inner fight you held inside had you all over the place. On one hand, you had the dangerous sign finally manifesting in front of you, on the other, the realization that maybe your interest in the woman sitting beside you was something bound to happen. And both seemed like a huge risk of you falling into nothingness without life support.

"Y/N," Wanda's voice brought you back from your reverie, feeling small at her big eyes staring at you expectantly.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" You composed yourself.

"I asked why you left the necklace on the shelf," she repeated herself calmly.

"Oh," you paused as you took a sip of your hot beverage as the small employees in your brain searched frantically for the right words to say.

"I felt the need to buy it in one of my travels. And as I don't believe in casualties, I decided to leave it in plain sight for the right person to be gifted with it."

Witnessing the way her green eyes sparkled with joy and her toothy smile appeared once again squishing your heart in a cozy way, you might have come to the right conclusion.

"That means I can have it?"

Instead of answering, you placed your empty mug on the coffee table before you walked to the shiny necklace, unfastening the lock as you made your way back to the couch.

"Turn around," you indicated and Wanda complied contently. "You're the chosen one," you half joked as you secured the lock around her neck.

But nothing you imagined could've prevented you from the gasp you released when you felt Wanda's back against your chest, like a warm blanket on a cold night.

"I love it," Wanda spoke and it took you one, two seconds to relax and wrap your arms around her. "Thank you."

"Thank the Universe, not me." You spoke those words with a promise you hoped reached her soul.

"You know, I was scared to accept Fury's offer," Wanda's voice was calm, like a balm to your itching insides. "With my past with Hydra and all, I mean." The brunette placed the pendant on her chest before her hand found yours, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to avoid disrupting the conversation. "But even though I don't know how to explain it, the moment I saw you, I felt some sense of… safety," you inspected with rapt attention the way her soft hand intertwined her fingers with yours, like a silent promise.

"I'm glad you decided to stay," you chose the safest words, for you didn't trust it was the right moment to vomit all the feelings she made you feel.

"Promise you'll never leave me?" Wanda looked up at you, with her green orbs waiting patiently.

Unable to answer without choking, you leaned down to kiss under her ear and tightened your grip around her torso, allowing her scent to fill your nostrils, just to make sure this moment was real and not a trick of your imagination.

Granted, you couldn't know how your story with Wanda would end, or even if it would start at all. But if you were sure of something, it was that all the paths lead to her. These past months, when you were in her presence, you couldn't feel anything else but comfort. And if playing the game meant risking your soul, you'd play it anyway for something in you assured you that she was worth it. Part of you belonged to Wanda, whether you liked it or not.

Taglist: @wandabear @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx (If you wanna be tagged in my fics, let me know)

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fiction #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #promptober #vee writes

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marzipanandminutiae · 5 months

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Rating the Femme en Noir Crimson Peak collection when I should be going to bed (it's not ALL critical, actually!)

no judgment at all to people who like the collection. nothing can achieve higher than a 7/10 because it's all synthetic. let's get into it

Edith Victorian Gown in Ivory

...yeah! that's basically Edith's nightgown copied exactly, so it's a 7/10 from me

2. Lady Lucille Victorian Dress With Capelet In Teal

What. um. What does this have to do with anything Lucille wears? It's blue velvet and it's a dress; there the similarities end. Why is there a ruffly capelet? That's something Edith wears, not Lucille. Why are there leg-o-mutton sleeves? Why is there no trim whatsoever? (that last is to become a running theme.) 3/10.

3. Allerdale Moth Wallpaper Babydoll Dress in Olive

There's a longer version, and were it a natural fabric, I'd be tempted to buy it and alter it into a blouse and over-skirt or something. This one is honestly pretty cute, though I forget what part of the house this wallpaper appears in. 7/10.

4. Edith Victorian Knit Cardigan in Olive

I get that they want to modernize these things for their target audience, but the original being SO much more fitted and sumptuous-looking just makes this one look sad. It's like Wish.com Edith. 5/10 for at least keeping the little velvet pumpkins.

5. Ghost Shoulder Bag

If this were leather, I would buy it. Not a huge fan of Margaret being the ghost on the front, though- I feel like Enola or Eleanor would be more photogenic. Poor Margaret. 6/10 though they're lucky I don't take points off for calling it "vegan leather" in the description. Be honest- it's plastic.

6. Belladonna Maxi Dress in Crimson Red

This is just an existing product of theirs But In Red. Pretty, but 4/10 for lack of effort.

7. Lady Mourning Victorian Gown in Black

It's the nightgown in black with a sash. Try harder. 3/10 and I'm skipping any color repeats labeled as different dresses from here on out.

8. Mourning Victorian Bonnet in Black

You know what? Yeah. Sure! That's a cute bonnet. Good job. 7/10.

9. Lace Mourning Scarf Veil in Black.

You can get a yard of nylon chantilly lace for less than $28, pretty as this looks. 5/10.

10. Victorian Cycling Pullover Sweater in Black

I mean. I guess. What does this have to do with Crimson Peak, exactly? Why is "Lucille" wearing puffed sleeves when, again, her clothing being tight has so much character logic behind it? It's a mystery. 5/10.

11. Victorian Velvet Bustle Skirt in Black

This didn't photograph well, but it appears to have some cool pleat details. I don't like 19th-century skirts getting shortened, but that's more a matter of personal preference than reaction to movie inspiration or lack thereof. 6/10.

12. Taffeta Edwardian Blouse in Marigold

This comes in multiple colors, but I picked the marigold because it illustrates that Wish.com effect once again.

The OG bodice from the movie that they're clearly trying to evoke. It has DETAIL! it has TRIM! It has LUSH FABRIC! And obviously you can't do that with a mass-produced piece, but ye gods, why would you set yourself up for failure by trying? If they hadn't gone for the look of a specific movie costume, their blouse wouldn't look disappointing by comparison. 5/10

13. Wicker Tilt Hat With Black Veil

Once again I feel they shot themselves in the foot here. It's cute! But it suffers by trying to be something that was better in the movie.

Not great by comparison; it's TOO close without going all the way. 6/10 because it is cute, though.

[skipped a bunch more veils and some lace mitts, which were cute but have nothing to do with How Well Or Poorly The CPeak Inspiration Was Executed In My Opinion]

14. Victorian Hands Belt in Silver

THIS IS NOT THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. THIS IS NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE THE CRIMSON PEAK HAND BELT. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?

IT IS THIS 1970S BELT- WHICH, LIKE THE ONE IN THE MOVIE, IS NOT BASED ON ANY VICTORIAN ORIGINAL THAT I'M AWARE OF -THAT HAS BEEN COPIED 50000 TIMES. DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND WAIT FOR CUTTLE AND BONE TO HAVE ANOTHER PREORDER OF ACTUAL CPEAK HAND BELTS. 0/10.

Conclusion: Not all bad, but I feel like I actually would have gone in a more modern direction with the resources and limitations of this collection. You're never going to be as good as the movie costumes at their own game, not with mass-manufactured pieces. So why set yourself up for failure? Bringing the characters, themes, and motifs to a yet-unexplored time and place (with some Victwardian touches, of course!) seems like it would have been a better way to go about this, IMO.

Also stop being allergic to trim when you're taking inspiration from a movie with oodles of passementerie and beadwork and lace all over everything.

5/10 overall.

#long post #fashion #crimson peak #also for the love of everything can we get some natural-fiber clothes that AREN'T beige linen?#Gothic Natural Fiber Attire When!!!

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ivymarquis · 6 months

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Garnish

Pairing| Alex Keller x F!Reader Rating| M Content/Warnings| Free use smut (pre-negotiated terms), dirty talk, a brief sprinkle of dummification

For @glitterypirateduck's Alex Keller Challenge!!! lmao idk why I was so intimidated writing this. I haven't really been the biggest Keller girlie so I had no idea where to go with his voice. Obviously the best way to try and get a handle on it was to write a filthy PWP :) "I bet the neighbors know my name"

Alex would know those earrings anywhere.

They are, without question, his favorite pair of hers. And while a part of him has hoped she would decide to don them after his return home, until this morning the jewelry’d remained sitting in her jewelry box.

Of course they are his favorite for a very specific reason.

The idea of roleplaying a free use housewife fantasy just scratches a deep seated itch inside the both of them. He's already got plans- one day in the very near future- for how he wants to put a ring on that pretty finger. Take the 'house wife' part out of the fantasy by entrenching it firmly in reality where it belongs.

But right now his thoughts are focused less on the engagement band and more on the pair of earrings dangling with every tilt and move of her head. She's taunting him.

The "rules'' are pretty simple. If she's wearing the earrings, Alex has full rein to treat her to like a personal fuck doll whenever and wherever the mood strikes him and she'll go along with it. When she's done playing, the earrings go back in the jewelry box and their sex life is the same as any other couples.

The second he sees her- having walked from the mutual bedroom to their kitchen where he found her upon waking up- he decides that today will be a lot more fun if he takes a slightly different approach to start.

He gives zero acknowledgement of the dangly jewelry despite the fact that he knows she knows there's no way he didn't see them. Just gives a half-sleepy smile and presses an affectionate peck to her temple while murmuring "Good morning, pumpkin." and it takes everything in him to not crack a grin at the indignant look on her face.

No doubt she expects him to jump the moment she gives the go ahead. To pin her down against the cabinets with one arm, lift her skirt with the other and have his wicked wicked way with her.

Oh no, dear heart.

They sit and have a perfectly normal breakfast. Or at least Alex does. His pumpkin looks wild eyed and a little suspicious at his newfound self control. Clearly not expecting it and doesn't know what to do with herself about it.

"Did you sleep alright last night?" he poses the perfectly innocent question. He's being an asshole- he knows it, but he's having too much fun. He knows damn well she slept fine last night because he wore her ass out. Could barely keep her awake long enough to clean everything up.

"Yes, did you?"

"Like a baby. You seem a little jumpy though this morning- might want to watch the caffeine."

Oh she's watching something but it sure as shit wasn't the coffee.

After collecting the dishes and placing them in the sink, Alex whistled to himself while getting ready for the day. Nothing too exciting- just a few 'Honey Do's, after he put his poor girl out of her misery.

She's finding any reason she can to be in the same room as him and it's adorable. Looking for this, needing to place that- she flits in and around like she's worried he'll forget she's there if not in his line of sight.

Eventually an actual task takes her attention off of Alex and that's when he strikes.

She's bent over in front of the dryer, no doubt fishing some far-flung sock that refused to come along quietly with the rest of the laundry.

Well fuck, he can't refuse a sight like that.

He knows her well enough that as one heavy hand lands to grab her wrist, the other fists the back of her hair with enough force to keep her from banging her head against the dryer in case she startles- which she does.

Huh. He'd of thought for sure that maybe a part of her was playing up the whole 'being bent in half in front of the dryer' thing, but from that reaction he's starting to think she was actually just focused on the laundry for a split second.

He doesn't miss the way she relaxes against his hold now that his little game is up. "What a desperate little thing you are. I haven't even done anything and you're ready to roll on your back for me."

Now that he knows she's not going to split her head open on the edge of the dryer he releases her hair, his newly freed hand now reaching down to flip her skirt up.

The sight that greets him is enough to draw a low whistle from the man. "No panties? Naughty girl. Almost like you were expecting to get fucked today." he teases, chuckling to himself as she nods and presses her hips against the stiffening bulge in his pants. "And here I was being a mean, mean man and making my poor girl wait. Surprised you didn't have to clean up your seat after breakfast this morning."

"I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to actually do anything today," she can't help herself but to lightly grouse at him.

"That's the fun of me being in charge of when you get fucked today, pumpkin. I might bend you over every singular solid surface that can hold your weight, or I might make you wait. Choice is all mine."

Well, until she says otherwise. Or if she outright safewords. But that is a given.

His pretty girl is getting spoiled though if she's got time to be grumpy about not being bent over to her satisfaction.

One hand trails over her hip, teasing the exposed skin as he revels in how twitchy she is.

It takes prep- always does, always will. But they'd been at it for a good amount yesterday and with her presently about to melt into a puddle of desire and neglect after this morning, Alex is mindful but not too apprehensive as he opens his pretty girlfriend up on his fingers.

First one, just to confirm his suspicions- she's primed and wants to go, pressing back against him in anticipation as one becomes two. He knows that two of his is something akin to three of her own, and that finally seems to settle her down as his fingers stroke that spot inside of her that has her grabbing at the dryer for leverage and pushing back against it to press further into him.

"That's it, baby. Nice and fucking wet for me. You know what your job is, hm?" he purrs behind her.

"Yes," she pants quietly. "Alex, please-"

"You're spoiled, you know that?" he still ends up pressing an affectionate peck to her temple again, pulling out of her warm body to work on freeing himself one handed.

She's all too eager to help get things rolling- standing on her tip toes and arching her back. It makes it easy to slide into her, taking a few shallow, rolling thrusts to work himself all the way inside.

Rewarded with the sound of her pleased moans, Alex is quick to settle into a pace that he knows will get the pair of them rolling their eyes in no time. At this point he knows how to get her going as certainly as he does to get himself off.

"Oh my God- right there," she moans, her own hands scrambling for purchase against the dryer to brace. Alex bands one arm across her waist while the other continues to knead her hip, keeping her close to him as he thrusts.

'Yeah? That's the spot right there pumpkin?" he asks despite knowing the answer. He just likes watching how she'll go from a smart, capable woman to a dumb little cocksleave desperate for his cum with the right kind of prompting.

"Ye-ye-yeah," she confirms as he stays steadfast in his tempo.

"Fuck,” he groans at the wet heat of her clinging to him like she never wants him to leave her.

Letting go of her hip with one hand but keeping his other banded across her waist, Alex is all too happy to grope at her chest. Fingers plucking at her pebbled nipples- rolling and pinching one before switching to pay attention to the other. Those hitching breaths work in time to his ministrations as he works her up just to pull his hand away from her bust in favor of her clit.

Now that got her attention, each thrust of his hips and slow stroke of his fingers being rewarded with his name a constant chant in her mouth- Alex Alex Alex Alex-

“That good, pumpkin? You gonna- fuck- make a mess for me? Come on, honey, ask me for it,” he goads.

She’s sputtering and scrambling to get her brain in working order- trying to be a good girl. Fucking adorable.

“Alex- fuck,- hgn- Alex- please! Let me- let me,” her brain struggling to play catch up.

“All ya gotta do is ask, honey. You can do that, can’t you?” Pressing another chase kiss to her temple, the dichotomy is not lost on him paired with the absolute filthy noises coming from where they’re joined. She’s gagging for it- literally can’t get the words out of her mouth in the right order. “Must be fucking you good if you can’t even talk properly,” he teases, a grin escaping him when she shoots him a glare over her shoulder. “I bet the neighbors know my name,” the uppity ones who seem to think they’re above socializing with any of the other tenants in the building- brushing off anyone who tries to get to know them.

God they must fucking hate Alex when he’s home after being sent out on mission.

“Alex please! Let me cum, please!”

His fingers kept up that maddening pace until his ears finally register that she did, in fact, use her words.

And Alex is nothing if not a man of his word.

He knows exactly how to change the quiet strumming of his stroking fingertips from the teasing touches meant to ramp her up, and the ones meant to drag her across the finish line.

Those pretty thighs are trembling as Alex plays her like a fiddle. She cums with a cry, seemingly caught off guard by how intense it is.

It doesn’t take much more to get Alex chasing his own end.

He finishes without much fanfare Pulls out, tucks himself away, pulls her skirt down and kisses her temple again before leaving a shaking mess left to sort out the laundry.

Much like breaking the seal on a night out of drinking- now that he’s given into the temptation he just cannot stop the rest of the day. The second his refractory period is up and he feels ready to go another round, he’s seeking her out within the house and can’t wait to climb on top of her.

He may or may not be the reason that lunch burns that day a few hours later. It’s a worthy reason though, and he happily orders takeout as an apology.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#alexkellerchallenge #alex keller x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #my writing

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 6 months

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Trick or Treat - Miguel O'Hara

A/N: Happy Halloween! Here's a little Miguel blurb for ya!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara Word Count: 1k Synopsis: Halloween is not Miguel's favorite holiday.

"What are you wearing?"

"What does it look like I'm wearing?" you ask.

"Cat ears," he says dryly. You turn to smile at him and he jumps back. "And whiskers."

"Well, no one can say you're not observant, Miguel."

"What's the occasion?"

"Is that a joke?"

"I don't joke."

You walk over to him, recognize his tired face, the slump of his shoulders, and put your arms around him. "Long day?"

"You could say that," he says with a sigh. You give him a soft smile and he leans in to kiss you.

"I'm sorry, my love. And the occasion, is Halloween."

"Ah, how could I forget?"

"Don't pretend like you didn't notice a million little spider-kids on your way home."

"The real question is why are you dressed up."

"Didn't I already say this, it's Halloween." Miguel rolls his eyes at you and breaks out of your arms.

"You going to a party tonight?"

"No, I know you wouldn't want to do that." You follow him down the hall to your bedroom and watch as he undresses. "I just thought it might be fun to hand out candy and have a cozy night in."

"I like the cozy night in part," he says, snaking an arm around you, his bare chest warm against you.

"I figured I could convince you on that part," you say, kissing him. He hums deeply and suddenly you're falling back onto your bed, Miguel on top of you. "We could just stay here and I could find out if there's a tail to match this little outfit."

"Miguel," you say in a breath, squirming out of his touch as his hand travels down your backside. You roll out of bed and straighten your ears as you stand.

"Come back, baby."

"I can't," you tease, walking towards the door slowly.

"Come back," he says again, deeper. You open your mouth to respond just as the doorbell rings.

"Hold that thought," you say and rush towards the door. A pumpkin and a scarecrow are at your door and both happily take candy.

Miguel is behind you when you shut the door and turn around. He's frowning at you, and you notice that his shirt is still off.

"Don't you think it's a little chilly for that," you say, touching his muscular chest.

"Don't you think you could just leave that bowl at the door?"

"But then I would miss all of the cute kiddos."

"I don't care." He kisses you again, taking your chin in one hand and the bowl in the other. You are pressed against the wall, Miguel's muscular body against you. You could have stayed like that if you didn't notice the hand holding the bowl stretching towards the door.

"We are not leaving it at the door," you say, breaking away from his lips. "Now, why don't we find you a shirt and something spooky to watch."

Miguel sighs, a long suffering sigh, but follows you into the living room. You watch as he takes in the scene in the living room - three blankets over your couch: one with pumpkins, one with colorful ghosts, and one with some Halloween cats.

"I had to set the mood!"

"And set it you did," he says. Again, he is next to you, wrapping an arm around you. You kiss him softly and again, the doorbell rings. With a laugh you walk away from your growingly frustrated boyfriend and open the door to a few more trick or treaters.

"You missed three princesses," you say when you come back. Miguel has chosen a movie - one with a zombie bride in it - and you settle onto the couch next to him.

"Sorry I missed that," he says dryly. You come around the couch and rest in his arms.

"What's with you and Halloween?" you ask, looking up at him.

"I don't have a thing with Halloween," he says, "I just want to spend time with you."

"You are spending time with me."

"Not if you jump up every few seconds when the doorbell rings."

"You must have had a really shitty day," you observe. "I mean you can be negative, but I have not seen you this negative in a long time."

He kisses your forehead softly before taking a deep breath.

"Halloween . . . Halloween was Gabriella's favorite holiday. It was kind of our thing," he says. You sit up quickly and turn to face him.

"You should have told me that," you say, gently pushing his shoulder. "I wouldn't have--"

"You haven't done a single thing wrong. I should have told you. It's just . . . hard. It sucks."

"It does." You lean in to kiss his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Don't--"

"I am, and I love you."

"I love you."

You are not apart from him for long. His arm wraps around your waist and you're back in his arms, falling back on the couch. Sounds of the zombie bride fade into the background as your lips lock. His hands are rough as they graze your skin. You are just leaning into his body, breaking for air when the doorbell rings again.

"Son of a--"

You giggle as you get off the couch and bring candy to a cute little girl dressed as a cat. When you turn around, Miguel is there again. After sharing what he did, the weight on his shoulders seems to have lifted, but he seemed even more annoyed, this time around.

"We need to put the bowl outside?"

"We need to put it outside," he agrees.

You open the door and place it on the porch, and before you have even closed the door, Miguel is pulling you into his arms. You hear a splat and see a small web over your door handle.

"No more trick or treaters," he says, kissing you.

"No more," you say with a giggle as he wraps you into his arms and leads you back to the couch.

"Happy Halloween, my love," he says, hovering over you as he drops you onto the couch.

"Happy Halloween."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfic #spiderverse #spiderverse fanfic #spiderverse fanfiction

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rottenpumpkin13 · 7 months

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Out Of Context Shit Heard On The SOLDIER Floor #5

previous: 1, 2, 3, 4,

*Zack walks in with his head in a pumpkin*

Zack: Zack-o'-lantern

Genesis: do you think our menstrual cycles have synced?

Sephiroth: please stop crying. I am not equipped to deal with depression this early in the morning.

Kunsel: When I die please donate my penis to science.

Angeal: Director Lazard dresses like a gay penguin.

Sephiroth: Is fruit cake an insult? I just called someone a fruit cake and thought it was quite funny.

Kunsel: Why does Rufus sound like he went through puberty twice?

Sephiroth: I thought the Molly you spoke of was the name.

Roche: Kunsel can have a little medieval torture, as a treat.

Zack: Where were you when my hand was stuck in the toaster??

Sephiroth: I don't know what Coraline was complaining about. She had two mothers.

Lazard: One of these days I'm going to lose my shit and punch Genesis in the face.

Angeal: (on the phone): I-just-swallowed-whiteout help desk, Angeal speaking, how may I help you?

Genesis: Merry Christmas.

Zack: It's October?

Genesis: Alright shitty Christmas then.

Zack: *break dancing while Genesis sobs*

Genesis: If we're all single by age forty let's become a married throuple.

Angeal: I can't tell if that drawing you did is President Shinra or Colonel Sanders.

Roche: Fuck it. I'll just steal Sephiroth's hair. It's no big deal!

Sephiroth: I would commit unspeakable atrocities for a single piece of lasagna right now.

Cloud: Ronald McDonald would never treat me like this!

Sephiroth: I do not mean to be immature, but I will now be giggling whenever we reach the 69th floor.

Genesis: Eat this apple and tell me it doesn't taste like chicken tenders.

Angeal: Sephiroth stop laughing Genesis might be going to jail.

Zack: 🎶 Grab somebody sexy tell 'em HEY *tackles Sephiroth*

Cloud: There's a pickle in your wallet. Is that a metaphor?

Lazard: There's no need to act defensive, Roche. Lots of men have gay thoughts about Sephiroth.

Genesis: Bullying IS a healthy coping mechanism.

Lazard: Do you like my new bottle of pills?

Cloud: What if—bear with me—What if! No one cares about Loveless?

Sephiroth: I think he's the size of twelve capybaras stacked on top of each other.

Angeal: Which one of you gay clowns told upper management about—Put your hand down, Genesis, that wasn't a compliment!

Zack: *through a mouthful of cookies* HE'S A DILF!

Angeal: You can't threaten me with a butter knife.

Sephiroth: If I sniff this entire box of markers, will it put me out of my misery?

Zack: My fear is that he'll come at me with a rolling pin.

Cloud: Seph! Stop choking Genesis with that extension cord he's into that shit.

Lazard: If you keep this up, Sephiroth, I'll make you wear a shirt for a week.

Genesis: How do I look?

Angeal: With your eyes, Gen.

Roche: I personally frame all of my speeding tickets.

*Cloud walks in shaking*

Cloud: GUYS! ZACK CAN DO MATH!

Sephiroth: Somebody stole a jar of jam from my desk drawer.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #ffvii crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #final fantasy vii #angeal hewley #final fantasy #cloud strife #zack fair #ff7 crisis core #final fantasy 7 crisis core

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kittyadore · 11 months

Note

Hi Hi 👋🏼 can you please do an earth 42 miles x reader when it's Halloween and they go out trick or treating together 💟

halloween

—𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦!42 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴

—𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

—𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵; 1,4𝘬

—𝘢/𝘯; hi lovelies, thank u so much for the request !! i had fun writing this, i really think e!42 miles is a cutie. sum e!1610 miles coming soon hopefully, please leave requests so i know what you guys want to read. also thank u so much for the 140 (i think) likes under my previous post, as its my first ever, it means a lot to me💝💝

As October descended upon Brooklyn, whispers of Halloween's approach filled the air. Your eyes sparkled with anticipation, and you couldn't contain your excitement for the upcoming festivities. But Miles, with a furrowed brow, scoffed at the idea, preferring solitude over celebrations.

Undeterred by Miles' grumpiness, you decided to transform his home into a magical realm of Halloween delight. His mother approved of your brilliant ideas, so the boys' opinion couldn't change anything. Armed with a vivid imagination and an overflowing box of decorations, you set out to infuse the flat with the spirit of the season.

While you took your time adorning his bedroom with ghostly figures, cobwebs, and some pumpkins, your boyfriend observed you from a distance, a skeptical expression etched on his face. Despite his reservations, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity as your enthusiasm filled the air.

Subsequently, you transformed the living room into a haunted haven. With Rio's help, you strung orange and black streamers, hung paper bats from the ceiling, and carefully arranged a display of glowing jack-o'-lanterns. Miles' grumpiness wavered as he watched your infectious excitement, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As the evening came, you turned your attention to cute couple Halloween costumes. You spent hours crafting intricate outfits-a brooding vampire for Miles and a whimsical fairy costume for yourself. Miles grumbled about the discomfort of wearing a costume, but deep down, he couldn't deny the sparkle in your eyes, even though he tried to fight it.

"You're trippin, ma." The boy intervened firmly as he shook his head in disbelief. "I am not wearing that, no way." The sharp tone of his voice struck through your heart, slowly breaking it into pieces. You knew he wasn't the type to participate in adorable couple activities, but you didn't understand why couldn't he spend his time with you, at least during such fascinating time.

"Oh come on, Miles, why not?" You pouted, crossing your arms as you looked at him with a disapproving gaze. You were sure of his opinion, but deep down, you still had some hope, that the captivating season could soften his heart, even the tiniest bit. "It's like you don't love me anymore, Miles. You never do anything fun with me, we barely even spend time together. You're always out doing your 'important work', putting off our plans" You snapped at him, with slight wrath audible in your voice

"I get it, you might not be a fan of all those 'cringy' couple activities, but please, can't you enjoy your time with me for once?" You continued, your gaze shifting from his face to his torso. You could notice the confusion on his face, as you weren't the type to talk to him like this. "But alright, if you don't want to, I can just go out with someone else. You have fun here"

Miles made his way up to his bed, sitting down beside you, letting out a sigh, as he entwined his hands with yours. Staring into his eyes, you could see them filling up with agony, clearly hurt after hearing your truthful speech.

"Look, mami. I'm sorry I haven't given you enough time lately, you know, I just cant explain it. I want to keep you safe" Your boyfriend started the same answer you hear every time you would bring up his job. It was different though, he never really genuinely apologized to you. Sure, a quick 'my bad' or 'i'll do better' usually left his mouth, but you've never heard him say 'i'm sorry'. He put his head down as he continued.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way, you know I'm not happy about me canceling our dates either. I can dress up and go trick-or-treating with you, ma. I hate seeing you like this, I'll do better, princessa."

Miles stole a quick kiss on your lips, then on your forehead as he got up from the bed, reaching over to your Halloween costumes. His lips shifted into a soft smile as he felt a wave of warmth strike through his heart.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you two emerged from his house, you adorned in vibrant fairy costume that shimmered under the moonlight. You fluttered your wings, casting a spell of enchantment that swirled around Miles.

Miles, reluctantly participating, donned a simple costume, a bloodthirsty vampire. Deep down, he couldn't resist your excitement, and a flicker of curiosity ignited within him, as you took the lead.

Hand in hand, you set off into the moonlit streets, where houses were adorned with cobwebs, glowing pumpkins, and haunting decorations. Children, disguised as witches, superheroes, and ghosts, giggled and chattered as they darted from door to door.

You, with your infectious laughter, skipped ahead, your voice like a melody in the night. Miles trailed behind, his grumpy attitude slowly giving way to the passion he hadn't felt in years.

At each house, children eagerly showcased their costumes, their eyes shining with anticipation. Your eyes danced with delight, and your laughter filled the crisp autumn air. Miles, though initially skeptical, found himself chuckling at your excitement, realizing that Halloween held a joy he had long forgotten.

As you continued your journey collecting candy, you arrived at a house unlike any other. It's porch was adorned with shimmering lights, and a melodious tune drifted through the air. You approached, your hand entwined with your boyfriends' and your eyes wide with wonder, and rang the doorbell.

The door creaked open, revealing an elderly man dressed as a magician. With a flourish of his wand, he produced a basket overflowing with candy. As he handed you a treat, he leaned in and whispered, "May the magic of this night bring joy to even the coldest of hearts."

Miles was taken aback by the man's words. Perhaps there was more to Halloween than he had ever realized. A seed of enchantment had been planted within him, sprouting into a newfound appreciation for the night's festivities.

Eager to share this newfound delight, Miles' coldness dissipated like mist in the morning sun. He engaged in playful banter with fellow trick-or-treaters, admiring their costumes and sharing in the joy of the evening.

As the moon reached its zenith, you approached the final house on your route. The porch was transformed into a whimsical wonderland, complete with floating candles and mystical creatures. Your eyes sparkled, and Miles' heart swelled with anticipation.

You knocked on the door, and it swung open to reveal a woman dressed as a fortune teller. Her voice was soft and melodious as she greeted you. Miles exchanged glances with you, feeling as though you had stumbled into a magical realm.

The fortune teller handed you each a small, golden envelope. "Open these when the clock strikes midnight," she whispered, her eyes twinkling with mystery.

With a sense of wonder pulsing through your veins, you and your boyfriend bid the fortune teller farewell. You made your way back home, your pumpkin buckets filled to the brim with sweet treasures.

As the clock neared midnight, you sat on the couch, in the decorated living room. With a hushed countdown, you opened your golden envelopes in unison.

Inside, you discovered handwritten notes, each containing a heartfelt message from the other. Words of love, appreciation, and gratitude spilled from the pages, filling your hearts with warmth.

You and Miles exchanged smiles, your souls intertwined in a magical moment. You realized that the true enchantment of Halloween was not just in the costumes or treats, but in the bonds that were strengthened and the love that was kindled.

As the clock struck midnight, Miles took your hand in his and whispered, "Thank you for showing me the magic of this night, ma. I'm sorry for being so harsh with you and canceling our dates so often. If they are as amazing as this one, it will never happen again." Your eyes shimmered with happiness and you let out a quiet laugh at his words.

Under the moonlit sky, the two of you shared a tender kiss, the magic of the night enveloping you. In that moment, you knew that love, laughter, and the spirit of Halloween would forever illuminate your lives, casting away any shadows of coldness that may try to linger.

#miles morales #miles x reader #prowler miles #prowler miles x reader #prowler!miles #prowler!miles x reader #across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader

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harbingerscry · 4 months

Text

Graves Relationship HCs

I am unapologetically down bad for this man, thank you Tech, I am what you created. Big thanks to Luci and Tech for letting me bounce ideas off of them. I also let my southern out while typing this because I feel like this is an appropriate character to do it with.

This contains NSFW content.

Graves loves you, his partner, more than he can verbally express, which is why his hands are constantly on you. In your home, at the store, walking down the road, even on base in front of his Shadows, it does not matter. It could be as simple as him holding your hip or hand. When he's feeling needy or cheeky though, his hand is in the back pocket of your jeans or, if y'all are seated, he's caressing the inside of your thigh and inching ever closer to the heat hidden between your legs. The man is a certified fiend, I don't know what you expected.

Got jewelry on? He's rubbing it between his fingers, fiddling with it, admiring how it feels and how it looks on you. He loves it because he's bought you every piece of jewelry you wear and it serves as a reminder to himself that he can provide for you. It also feeds his possessive nature, even if he won't openly admit it.

Darlin', sweetheart, baby, pumpkin, doll, he's calling you everything under the sun just to see you smile at him.

That all changes at night when he's balls deep inside you, fucking you into the mattress like the man has been deprived of pleasure his whole life. Those cute pet names only serve to mock and tease.

"Fuuuck, look at my little pumpkin~ Not even able to keep those pretty eyes on me when I ask. Always so fuckin' stupid under me." Philip's smirk was wicked as he pulled on the leg hooked over his shoulder, using it as leverage to bully his cock impossibly deeper into you. Fuck if it didn't feel like Heaven as he rocked inside you. He could feel what it did to you too, the way your walls clenched around him even tighter, threatening to push him out as your whines of his name got louder. "Shh, it's okay baby, just take it"

You can bet your sweet ass you have some bruises and you're having to hide some very visible hickies with your favorite concealer. You could have the biggest pout on your lips about it and he'd just be smug as can be.

"Come on sweetheart, just shows how much I love you." You wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face at this moment, but nothing you've ever done has. "We're having lunch with your parent's Phillip!" You were pouting, small tears of frustration threatening to well up. It's not because he marked you, but because the outfit he wanted you to wear left your neck and part of your chest exposed, showing off the small galaxy he had made. Graves' chest jolted as he held back his laughs, pressing his lips to the side of your head like it would help silence him. All you could do was reach around and slap his hip in retaliation which just made him finally laugh out loud. "O-Okay baby, you can pick a different top, just no more poutin'."

Oh yeah, by the way, if he's home and you're getting ready he's switching out whatever you intended to wear with something that pairs well with he's wearing. If he's wearing a white polo and jeans he's pulling out that pretty white and pink floral dress/top he got you for your birthday. It's another small way he makes sure everyone knows you're his.

Also, You and your friends want to go out for the night? He's instantly offering to cook for everyone because he doesn't want you out of the house. You don't know it (or maybe you do) but it's because he can't stand you being where he won't or can't be. It's always cleverly hidden under excuses and reasons that make sense if you don't look too deep. Man is a master manipulator when he needs to be.

"Me and the (ladies/guys) were talking about going to the new restaurant downtown for a (girls/guys) night this Saturday, is that okay with you baby?" You called out from the bathroom of your shared bedroom. Phillip immediately tensed from where he was sat in the bed, the hand he was using to scroll on his iPad stilled as he thought of ways to keep you home. "Well, it was supposed to be a surprise but, I was planning a date night for us that evenin'...." You turned off the bathroom light and you padded over to the bed, climbing in next to him. Your body immediately attached itself to his as you snuggled up. "I'm sorry baby, I didn't know. I could just tell them I can't join?" You couldn't help but feel bad, after all, he worked so hard but still made time for you. "No, I know you want to see your friends. Maybe you and the (ladies/guys) could have your night here and I'll cook?" Phillip turned off his iPad and sat it on the nightstand, making a small show of giving you his undivided attention. "That's a lot though, I don't want you overworking yourself more than you already do..." You bit at your lip as you looked up at him with worry. "Pumpkin, if it makes you happy that ain't nothin'. You deserve to be spoiled. Besides, once they leave we can have our alone time and I'll get all the rest I need." The 'our' was accented by a seductive smirk and kiss to the side of your head as he wrapped an arm around you. When you texted the group chat the following morning everyone was happy to agree to coming over. They love his cooking, plus who would ever say no to free food?

I also have to warn you, Graves is a mama's boy. Luckily though, he's not the kind who worships his mom or picks her side over yours. There have been many times his mother has tried to split the two of you up or been nasty towards you. Each time is happens though it is quickly shut down because Graves' isn't going to put up with it. He'll be down right disrespectful to her when she does it and not even bat an eye when she starts getting upset because you've 'turned her baby against her'. He left home young for multiple reasons and she was one of the biggest ones, regardless of how much he loves her.

At the end of the day, this man would choose very few things over you. He's possessive, cunning, manipulative, but his feelings are very much real. He would never put you in danger or hurt you intentionally. That doesn't mean he hasn't before, when he gets mad his mouth moves before his brain. He's stubborn and doesn't like to apologize, but once he realizes how bad he's fucked up he's doing whatever it takes for you to smile at him again.

#x female reader #x reader #cod mw2 #headcanon #cod modern warfare #phillip graves #x gender neutral reader #modern warfare 2 #call of duty

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xxizombiexx · 8 months

Text

BOYFRIEND

WARNINGS- 18+, DOM!Jill, SUB!Reader, Female x Female, eating out, fingering, drunk sex, praising, slight mommy kink, tit sucking, fighting, cheating, + more!

Summary- Jill sees you alone at the bar, so she decides to have some fun with you

She is literally my wife (cannon)

Um. I don't know what came to me while writing this

Jill watched a you and your boyfriend fought for the third time that night. She shook her head in disappointment as your boyfriend left the bar angerly, as you sat on the bar stool, drunk and confused. So, she decided to do something: after all, you can't leave a pretty lady by herself at a bar. She slid onto the bar stool right next to you. "Hey." Jill said, taking a sip of her alcoholic drink. "I saw you had a fight with your boyfriend there, you alright?" She asked, looking at your pretty face.

"Yeah," You whispered. "He's--he's just drunk." Oh, Jill didn't like that. She didn't like not one bit. "Why don't you come back to my apartment with me?" Jill suggested. "It would be much safer there then here with these disgusting pervs." Jill looked into your (e/c) eyes. "Maybe we can get to know each other. Become friends?" Your frown, almost admittedly turned into smiled at the thought.

"Okay." You giggled. Jill smiled at your smile. "Okay." Jill repeated, before drinking the last of her drink.

Her apartment wasn't very far from the bar. In fact, it was a two minute walk, (when sober).

She stood in front of her door, twisting her keys into the lock, as you leaned against the wall, ignoring the fact that this was a complete stranger who was taking to her home. When Jill finally opened the door, you were the first one to walk inside. It was a nice, cozy apartment. Admittedly, you took off your heels and placed them by the door. "So, what's your name?" Jill asked, shutting her door. You turned to look at her, "Y/n. What about you, stranger?" Jill chuckled.

"A pretty name for a pretty lady." She stated. You blushed at the complement. "Jill, by the way." Jill said, throwing her keys on the coffee table in front of her couch. You sat down on her couch, and almost sunk into it, with how comfortable it was. Jill sat next to you. "So, Y/n, have you ever been with a girl?" Jill asked, as she lit some apple pumpkin candles. You gave her a confused look, but that slowly turns into realization.

"Noo, wait--are you trying to have sex with me?" You asked, giggling. Jill smiled at your response. "Maybe." She replied, leaning back into her couch. "Only if you want to." Jill said, looking over to you. You bit your lip and thought for a moment.

"What about him?--My boyfriend?" You asked. "What about him?" Jill asked, rasing an eyebrow. "He's gonna get mad, if I sleep with another man." Jill couldn't help but think about how cut she is. "Oh, but honey, I'm a woman. Plus, he won't know. It will be our secret." Jill said, placing a finger on her lips. "So, what do you say?" You, without hesitation, nodded your head. "Good girl." Jill said, which caused you to clench your thighs together. Before you knew it, her lips were crashed onto yours. Her lips were soft, and you could taste her cherry chapstick on her lips. Her fingers began to trail down to your skirt that you were wearing. You couldn't help but to moan into her mouth as she started to make her way up your skirt. Her fingers reached your covered cunt, feeling the wet spot on your panties.

"Aw, are you this wet for me? I'm honored, princess." She said, which made you moan once more. Jill then began to rub small circles on your cunt. She loved watching the faces you made when she would slowly make he way to that sensitive bud. The sounds you made were pornographic, but it was music to Jill's ears. Yet, you wondered how much better it would feel without the stupid fabric in the way.

"O-oh m-my fuck!" You practically yelled, as Jill starts to go a little faster. And this was just from her rubbing your covered clit. "You need to be quiet baby." Jill whisper into your ear. "I have neighbors. If you can't be quiet, I'mma need to make you be quiet." She then went to attack your neck, leaving purple bite marks on it. "O-okay--okay." You whispered, biting your lip to keep you moans back. "I'm-g-gonna-" You were so close to coming, yet Jill took her fingers away from you soaked panties.

"Not yet baby." Jill said, sitting up. You whined at the lack of touch. She than began to strip. Her pulling off her tank top and then her bra, to reveal her tits. Then she did the same to you, but also taking off your skirt and panties, in which she also took off her jeans and underwear. Now that you two were completely stripped, Jill laid you down on your back. "You are so beautiful." Jill muttered, taking one of your boobs into her mouth. You moaned, throwing your head back. "J-Jill". She took your one nipple and started to pinch it, so both of her boobs were getting attention.

"Your tits are so soft." Jill muttered, licking your other boob. You almost came from just her words, but she had other plans. She began to start kissing you, from your chest, to your stomach, and then finally--your core. "Mommy's gonna take care of you real nice." She mumbled, kissing your inner thigh. "P-please! Please m-mommy!" You moaned out, as she started to eat you out. She loved the smell and taste of you, she could come just from eating you out. Her tounge was incredible. It licking all the right spots and in all the right places. "F-fuck!" You moaned. "I-I" you couldn't even get the right words out. Her tounge dipped in and out your cute hole.

"Go ahead." Jill said in your cunt, causing you to roll your eyes back. "Cum for mommy." And that you did. You came all over her face.

After words, Jill ran you a nice bath. While you in the bath, Jill took the chance to put her number into your phone.

#resident evil #jill valentine #jill valentine x reader #smut #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #smut shot #one shot #mommy k!nk #writers #please read

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mysteryshoptls · 10 months

Text

R Silver - Rabbit Wear Vignette

"We can't not eat it"

[Clock Town – Clock Park]

Silver: Both the jacket potato and the sausage roll were delicious. It may be because we ate them together.

Deuce: Really… Now that you've put it that way, I think that might be too!

Grim: Oh! They got somethin' tasty lookin' over at that stall! I'm gonna go eat some!

1. I'll go with you!

Deuce: It's fine for you two to run around, but don't get lost.

2. Wait for me!

Deuce: Grim just doesn't know how to settle down, huh.

Ortho: I also want to go and look around all the stuff in the park. I want to document all the goings-on of the festival.

Deuce: Okay, then I guess we'll all go off on our own for a bit. Everyone, meet back here in one hour.

Epel: Right, got it!

Epel: Okaaay, what should I do for an hour?

Silver: …

Epel: Oh, Silver-san. What's up, why're you looking so glum?

Silver: Before we left, my father told me to go and fully enjoy the festival here in this foreign country…

Silver: But now that we're told to do things on our own, I'm not sure what I should do.

Epel: I mean, it's nothing you have to think so hard about… Oh, hey! Why don't you look around the festival with me, then?

Silver: Is that alright? If you don't mind, then please, let me tag along with you.

Silver: I find comfort in all the greenery in this park.

Epel: I agree. My hometown's surrounded by nature too, so I find this super relaxing.

Epel: …Hm? Sniff, sniff… Oh, something smells good.

Silver: There are many pie stands over there. It must be from there.

Epel: It looks good! Don't you want to try some?

Silver: I suppose so. They are selling many different kinds of pies. I wonder which one would be best.

Silver: There's shepherd's pie with lamb, and cottage pie with beef…

Epel: Looks like they have sweet dessert pies too. Like lemon pies… And apple pies!

Pie Stall Owner: The Queendom of Roses is most well known for their pies, dear customers!

Epel: Oh, really! Then, since we're here, I definitely want to eat something that screams, "Queendom specialty!"

Silver: Sir, what is your most popular item?

Pie Stall Owner: Well, that'd be this one! If you've come all the way here to the Queendom, you have to eat this pie!

Silver: Hm? This is…

Epel: TH-THERE'S A TON OF FISH HEADS STICKING OUT OF THE PIE!!

Pie Stall Owner: That's a stargazy pie! I bet you've never seen that before, huh?

Epel: Herring heads and tails are sticking out of the pie… Just haphazardly… Looks like there's about 10 of them.

Epel: The shock of just seeing it is too crazy! It doesn't really look that good, to me?

Epel: U-Uh… Do you have any other recommendations…?

Silver: I'll take it.

Epel: EEHH!?

Silver: We can't not eat it, especially after the gentleman here has told us that this pie here is what screams, "Queendom specialty!"

Epel: I mean, true, I guess I did ask him… But still…

Epel: It's hard to consider eating it after looking into the eyes of those fish sticking out of the pie…

Silver: I see. I don't believe this will be any worse than the food that I've eaten up until now…

Silver: If you don't want to, I will not force you to. I will eat it myself. Good sir, please allow me one slice.

Pie Stall Owner: Here you go! Hot out of the oven!

Silver: Thank you. Then, I'll dig in.

[chomp]

Epel: …How is it?

Silver: It's delicious.

Epel: Eehh!? Really!?

Silver: Perhaps it's because I'm not as familiar with fish pies. It's a strange and interesting flavor.

Silver: I'm not very good with my words, so I'm afraid I can't explain myself very well.

Epel: Man, now I'm starting to get curious…

Epel: …Okay, fine. I'll try one too!

Pie Stall Owner: One more slice, okay! Here you go! It's still hot, so eat carefully.

Epel: …I don't want to look at those fish, so I should just close my eyes. Down the hatch… [bite]…

Epel: …Oh, it's actually pretty good…! It's kind of weird in it's own way, and the flavor grows on you.

Epel: The bitterness of the herring, the sweetness of the pumpkin, and the savory white sauce all mix well together.

Silver: I agree wholeheartedly.

Silver: Not only does it look interesting, the flavor is also unique. This dish truly feels like it would only be found here.

Epel: When I get back to campus, I gotta tell people about this. This'll be a good story to share.

Epel: I'm glad I tried it! But it's all thanks to you trying it out first, Silver-san!

Silver: No, it was because I chose to walk around with you that I was able to have such a memorable experience. I think I will be telling my father and the others about this.

Silver: Alright. Which stall should we head to next?

Silver: The dish we just tried didn't seem to appeal to you visually, after all. Let's look to eat something that you think would be delicious next.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst silver #deuce spade #epel felmier #ortho shroud #twst deuce #twst epel #twst ortho #twst grim #twst translation #twst white rabbit festival

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cielcreations · 2 months

Text

SCP-F10W3R5

Item #: SCP-F10W3R5

Site: 3M91R35

Object Class: Euclid Safe [ See Addendum SCP-F10W3R5-2 ]

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-F10W3R5 is to be given standard foundation living quarters as wall as appropriate meals when asked. SCP-F10W3R5 is allowed in commonplace areas as well as allowed to freely roam on the Safe Sites of the foundations. He is not permitted near the Euclid Sites and especially not permitted near the Keter Sites. There is no need for special containment procedures. Standard rules and regulations (he is to be given no weapons, no information, etc) apply.

Addendum SCP-F10W3R5-1: SCP-F10W3R5 is allowed outside in the garden when asked. He is not to be kept away from the garden unless the foundation is performing a test outside. At least two members of staff are to be outside with him at all times. He is not allowed to leave the garden area.

SCP-F10W3R5 often request items for his garden. Requests are to be approved by Site Directors.

List of Approved Requested Items:

Small Gardening Shovel

Watering Can

Pesticide (only to be given when outside with him, he is not to take it into his room)

Soil

Gloves

Hat

Overalls

Gardening Boots

Poppy Seeds

Lilac Seeds

Sunflower Seeds

Watermelon Seeds

Pumpkin Seeds

Bluebell Seeds

Daffodil Seeds

Dahlia Seeds

List of Denied Requested Items:

Gardening Shovel

Garden Shears

Zipties

Description: SCP-F10W3R5 is a twenty eight (28) year old Caucasian man of Scottish decent, approximately one point eight (1.8) meters in height. He has cyan hair and blue eyes, usually holding a singular flower or flower crown in his ear. He wears a simple white shirt with a rainbow flag on it, a blue cardigan, black jeans, and white socks. He walks around in socks, only wearing his gardening boots when going outside.

SCP-F10W3R5 is a generally very pleasant and kind, happy to talk with foundation members and cooperate with staff. He doesn't seem to mind the foundation, nor does he seem to care about the questions we ask, so long as we allow him the ability to garden. He answers as honestly as he can, only refusing if he doesn't know or uncomfortable with what is being asked.

SCP-F10W3RS has the ability to turn anything into different types of flowers. He is able to turn both living and nonliving items into flowers, but seems unable to control the types of flowers the items are turned into. Testing upon the flowers show that they have the same DNA as whatever flower they were turned into, showing no signs of being anything else.

Addendum SCP-F10W3R5-2: SCP-F10W3R5 used to be considered Euclid, due to his power of being able to make anything, including humans, into flowers. However, he has proven to be able to control said power and expressed he would no longer destroy foundation property or hurt foundation staff/D-Class personnel, so long as he is able to have a garden. He was given a test period and has proven to be Safe, as he has had no more incidents.

[ Interview Log ]

EXAMINER NOTES: This log was taken predating SCP-F10W3R5's change from Euclid to Safe class. This was taken after an incident of SCP-F10W3R5 destroying his bedroom wall in order to get outside before being caught and put in a solitary confinement cell.

Date: 20XX/04/23

Interviewer: Dr. Winson

Interviewee: SCP-F10W3R5

[ BEGIN LOG ]

Dr. Winson: SCP-F10W3R5-

SCP-F10W3R5: [Irritated] My name is Scott.

Dr. Winson: SCP-F10W3R5, you harmed two members of staff-

SCP-F10W3R5: I didn't mean to! It was an accident, I just wanted to get outside!

Dr. Winson: You are not permitted outside.

SCP-F10W3R5: And why not?! I don't do anything but sit inside all day! I see Scar and Jellie walking around all the time, they're allowed to freely roam, why can't I?!

Dr. Winson: You've... seen SCP-5C4R?

SCP-F10W3R5: Of course I have! Scar and I are friends! Ugh, whatever, that's not my point! My powers are completely harmless!

Dr. Winson: That's not entirely true-

SCP-F10W3R5: [Annoyed] Ugh, if you want to be all technical, then I guess yeah, technically, I can turn humans into flowers. But I don't because I don't want to hurt anyone. I literally just want to have a garden. Is that so much to ask?!

Dr. Winson: Unfortunately, yes it is-

[ Note: At this point, SCP-F10W3R5 had jumped across the table and placed his hand on Dr. Winson's chest, a clear threat of his ability. Armed members of staff had come into the room, but SCP-F10W3R5 did not budge. ]

SCP-F10W3R5: Okay, I'm done being nice. I can turn literally anything into bouquets. I could single-handedly destroy this entire foundation. So, unless you want me to release everyone in this building and turn everyone into bunches of flowers, I demand to be allowed outside and allowed to grow a garden. That is literally all I want.

Dr. Winson: [Pauses] I will... talk to O-5 to get it approved.

SCP-F10W3R5: [Removes himself from Dr. Winson] [Smiles] Thank you! I expect to hear back from you soon!

[ END LOG ]

Conclusion: Dr. Winson put in a request to O-5, detailing the severity. O-5 approved it under the conditions that SCP-F10W3R5 is heavily monitored. He was given the permission to grow a garden and, over time, his restrictions were lessened until he was reclassified as Safe.

No more incidents have occured.

#scott smajor #smajor95 #smajor #smajor1995 #empires smp au #empires au #hermitcraft smp #life series au #life series #scp au #scp foundation #Hermitcraft/Empires/Life Series SCP

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