#if or more likely when i draw him again if hes not wearing his hat i'll make his hair uhhh better

[onlyhuis]

on the nose

member — minghao x f reader  genre — smut, fluffy ending word count — 6.2k synopsis — you're too shy to be on the nose about what you want. luckily, minghao's got you figured out... he even likes the fluffy tail, too. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, established relationship, nicknames (bunny, baby, love, honey, good girl, etc), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, pet play, lingerie (bunny costume), teasing, begging, anal plug, oral (f receiving), not quite ass eating but close to it, breeding kink, creampie, filming during sex, praise, little bit of manhandling, overstimulation, spanking, hair pulling, biting, marking, squirting, generally rough and messy sex, and then it does a total 180 and it becomes really soft and gentle i'm sorry i can't help it this happens every time it's just who i am, pls lmk if i missed any there's a lot nksdjfsfh notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks so much to @onlymingyus and @highvern for helping me brainstorm <3 this was a challenge to write tbh but i'm glad i decided to finish it. if you enjoyed and want to see more like this please lmk how you liked it with an ask or a reblog! i always want to try new different things and feedback on this would be super appreciated :)) hope you enjoy this my slutty little bunnies mwah xoxo

you've been waiting for this day for weeks.

“hi baby,” minghao says warmly as you walk inside the house and slip your shoes off, setting your bag on the chair by the door. he wraps his arm around you to pull you in for a kiss before he turns his attention back to the boiling soup on the stove. “there was a package for you when i got home.” he nods his head towards the living room. “it’s on the table.”

“ooh, it’s my new hat!” you squeal and race across the room. “it's finally here!” you tear into the plastic like a wild animal, taking it out of the package and holding it up to show him.

it’s a knitted white beanie with white floppy ears hanging down from the sides of the hat. you pull it on over your hair, repositioning it so that the long fabric dangles at your shoulders. “what do you think?”

“you look so cute, baby. i love it.” he grins and moves closer to kiss you again. “though you know i’ll love anything you wear.”

you scrunch your nose at his reaction, but minghao must mistake the disappointment on your face for joy, because he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose before letting go of you and moving back towards the stove. “dinner will be ready in a bit, love. i’ll let you know when it’s on the table.”

you take off the beanie with a soft sigh and fold it up as you walk to your bedroom, not wanting to get it dirty before you’ve even had a chance to wear it anywhere. it's unreasonable to think he'd get it immediately, you know that, but you can't help but wish he'd have been just a little bit more excited at the sight of your bunny ears.

the soup is already done and minghao is waiting patiently once you come back out of your room changed into your pajamas, and by the time he’s got you pinned beneath him in bed later that night drawing pretty little moans from your lips, your bunny fantasies are the furthest thing from your mind. laying on your side as you listen to his gentle snores, you sigh and close your eyes, leaving it be. for now.

you wait a couple days before you try again.

“have you thought about what you’re gonna be for halloween?”

minghao looks up from his laptop sitting next to you in bed. “not really,” he chuckles. “it’s only april. why, did you have something in mind?”

you purse your lips, trying to seem casual. “i was thinking of being a playboy bunny. don’t you think that’d be cute?”

“mm… cute isn’t the first word that comes to mind,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking up into a smile. something flashes across his eyes and you hold your breath, hoping for the reaction you want this time. “we can look for costumes closer to october, yeah?”

you start to frown at his answer but quickly catch yourself, hiding your dismay with a smile. “good idea. hey, i’m gonna take a quick shower before bed, m’kay?”

he nods, and you lean over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek before standing up.

but this time he doesn’t miss the way your expression falls, his brows furrowed as you walk out of the room and close the bathroom door with a quiet click. he knows there’s something you want, something you’re not happy with, but sometimes it’s so hard to get you to tell him what’s on your mind.

he closes his laptop and sets it aside on the bedside table, crossing his arms over his chest in thought as he hears the shower water start to run. if all you’re willing to do for now is drop hints, then he’s just gonna have to start paying better attention until you feel like opening up. he’s not exactly a mind reader, but he’s figured you out before and he’ll do it again.

the next time it comes up, you don't even mean for it to happen.

you're walking through the mall, hand in hand as you stroll past boutiques and shops. something in one of the windows catches your eyes, and you tug on minghao's hand to go inside. he follows your gaze to the display of frilly white dresses, the wire rack wrapped with pastel garlands for their spring sale.

a sales lady with a cheap rabbit ear headband walks over and greets you with a smile, quickly launching into a memorized script about new items and clearance sales. you subconsciously squeeze minghao's hand and he pauses to watch the way you look at the woman as she talks, trying to see what you're looking at.

and then he notices something, and things start to click into place. you say something to the woman that he doesn't hear before she nods and walks away, and he sees your gaze lingering on the little cottontail tied to the belt loop of her jeans, bouncing with each step.

“you like these?” he asks curiously, running his hand over one of the dresses you'd been eyeing earlier.

“hm?” you ask absently and whip your head back around, your attention clearly drawn elsewhere. “oh, yeah. they're cute.”

well, he may not be a mind reader, but he has a hunch that the reason you wanted to come in this store wasn't to look at the clothes.

he has the chance to put his theory to the test later that night when you're straddling his lap, hands gripping your ass as he pulls you up and down along his cock.

he decides to try it, under the guise of dirty talk in the heat of the moment, and he's so casual about it you'd never suspect a thing. it already doesn't take much to get you fucked out in his arms, so when he slips it in between curses and moans you'd never be able to guess that he's been thinking about this all afternoon.

he groans as you grind down against him, waiting for the perfect opportunity. “bouncing on me so good, like a little bunny,” he says, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that makes you fall forward onto his chest.

like a magic word you instantly clench around him, whimpering loudly as your hips stutter and fall out of rhythm with him. he sees your eyes squeeze shut as you struggle to keep going, blatantly ignoring his words and pretending they don't affect you like he knows they do.

he lets himself grin at your reaction and thrusts up into you again, making you whine again as the tip of his cock presses into the spot that has you falling apart for him.

“hao! fuck, fuck, i'm—” you barely have time to moan out a warning before you're cumming, your body trembling against him from the strength of it as you gasp for air.

when you finally come back down he does everything he usually does, nothing out of the ordinary. he kisses your forehead and cleans you up and tucks you into bed beside him. he files this new little piece of information away for later and doesn't bring it up again.

for a while you start to think it was probably just an accident, a slip of the tongue when he wasn't thinking. he says a lot of things when he's inside you; he doesn't always have to mean them. but you should know better by now not to underestimate your boyfriend when he's got an idea in his head.

days go by and both of you pretend like it never happened; you because you're embarrassed at how much it affects you, and minghao because he has bigger plans up his sleeve.

everything seems perfectly normal until one evening when you come home from work and he's waiting for you at the door, wrapping you in a hug as soon as you step inside.

"hey, baby,” he smiles, his hands resting on your waist. “got a present for you."

your cheeks warm. "but it's not my birthday or anything?" it's not uncommon for him to spoil you with gifts, but he never makes a show of it. he just hands you things like you've owned them all your life, little surprises popping up without explanation like the necklace with your birthstone on it or the box of chocolates he'd known you were craving.

"it doesn't need to be. just something special i want you to have." he runs his hand over your forehead, tucking a strand of hair gently behind your ear. "it's in the bedroom, if you wanna go take a look.”

you give him a suspicious look and pull away, slipping your shoes off and leaving him by himself. he doesn't follow you down the hall, just standing in place and folding his arms with a satisfied grin once he hears squeals coming from the bedroom.

the house goes silent for a moment, and then he sees you poke your head out into the hall. “minghao?”

“yes, baby?” he grins teasingly as he leaves the living room, meeting you in the bedroom where he finds you standing next to the bed. you raise an eyebrow at him and point at the pretty white lingerie set he'd laid out for you. 

the thin lace stands out laying atop the dark bedsheets, accompanied by a pair of fluffy white wrist cuffs and a headband with soft floppy ears similar to the one worn by the lady at the store the other day but clearly much higher quality; maybe even custom or handmade. the finishing touch is a thin, white leather collar with a bow, and he can't help but smile as he surveys his layout.

“what is this?” you draw his attention away from the setup, and though your tone sounds accusing he can tell how secretly thrilled you are despite the way you try to downplay it. 

“i told you,” he smirks. “a present.”

now it's your turn to cross your arms at him. “and why is it here?”

“because i thought you'd like it,” he says in a low voice, moving closer to you. “don't you wanna be my little bunny?”

you yelp in surprise but then sigh, finally giving in. “how'd you figure it out?”

“you're easier to read than you think, my love,” he chuckles. “i know you too well.”

“you don't… hate it?” you ask shyly, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.

he wraps his arms around you again. “of course not. you know you could've just asked me, right?”

you scrunch your nose and pout. “i was nervous you wouldn't want to. or you'd think it's stupid.”

“you know i'd do anything you want, love. it's not stupid to me.” he leans over to press a quick kiss to your lips. “now, will you get changed for me? i can't wait to see my cute little honey bunny all dressed up.”

with a reluctant but excited squeal you push him out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him so that the reveal will be a surprise. minghao grins at the way you try to hide your enthusiasm, leaning against the doorway as he waits patiently.

finally you open the door just a crack and poke your head out, hiding your body behind it nervously. “ready?” you ask.

he nods, and with a deep breath you pull the door open all the way. you give him a little spin, the ears flopping against your hair as you show off the outfit. he smiles proudly as he joins you in the room, his fingers falling to your waist and backing you up against the bed.

“you look adorable, baby. just like i imagined,” he says in a husky voice, and you bite your lip shyly. “do you like it?”

you smile, and it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen. he'd buy you a million outfits and lingerie sets if it means he gets to see you like this every day. “i love it, hao. it's perfect.”

he sits down next to you at the edge of the bed and lifts his hand to pet your head, smoothing down your hair between the ears. you shiver in excitement, and it only makes him more eager to get started, his pants growing tighter every minute.

“i have one more present for you, mkay?” he leans away from the bed and pulls out an object from the dresser drawer. your breath catches in your throat when you realize what it is, a shiny silver plug with a round little white tail at the end that makes your heart race. “can’t be a bunny without a tail.”

you bite your lip and look at him, and he puts his hand on your thigh when you don't respond verbally. “is that okay?” he says gently, but your quick nod reassures him.

he stands up from the bed and quickly strips off his clothes, and you watch with lustful eyes as his cock slaps against his stomach, almost drooling at the sight. once he's ready you let him flip you over, kneeling down on your hands and knees with your ass readily pushed up in the air. he slips a finger under the seat of your panties, pulling them carefully to the side as he reaches over to grab the bottle of lube from the nightstand beside the bed.

you shiver as he pours the cool liquid over your ass before rubbing the toy against you to coat it. once he's satisfied with it he starts to drag the metal upwards, and you jump involuntarily as he presses the end of the plug against your hole. “mm— it’s cold,” you whine as he teases you with it once more before pulling it away.

“but it won’t be for long.” he chuckles at your reaction and rubs his free hand across your lower back soothingly, and you lean your hips into his touch. with a grin he bends down and presses his lips gently against your ass cheek, and you moan when his teeth graze your skin. “just relax for me, baby, that’s it…”

he begins easing the toy past your entrance, just a little bit at a time until it's fully enveloped inside you. you've played with plugs before, but somehow the stretch is like nothing you've ever felt. knowing that this time you've got a cute little bunny tail attached sends a new wave of desire throughout your body.

with one finger he carefully pulls your panties back into place to cover you up, admiring the fluffy tail that protrudes from your hole. it really does complete the outfit, and he smiles at his own thoughtfulness, proud of his handiwork.

you wiggle your hips to test it out, adjusting to the feeling of its weight stuffed inside of you. minghao's hand comes down hard on your ass and you yelp, bucking away from him in surprise. immediately you feel his hand gently touch your stinging cheek, rubbing small circles to massage the pain away. "fuck— sorry. don't know what came over me." he says, voice gravelly. "you just… you look so fucking good right now, baby. you make such a cute bunny."

your face flushes as the initial shock fades, and you push your hips back towards him encouragingly. "it's okay. you can do it again, if—if you want."

he grips your waist and pulls you against him, and you whine as you feel his hard length grinding into your ass. "if i'd known you'd like that, then i would have bought the matching paddle with the ears and the tail too," he groans. "this is why you gotta speak up, baby. gotta tell me what you want so i can give it to you."

you bite your lip and bury your face into the pillow, ears burning in embarrassment, but you quickly lift your head again when you feel his hand leave another sharp smack on your ass. "mm, mm, don't hide from me now, love." he tsks in disappointment, his voice laced with fake sympathy. "you wanna be an obedient little bunny for me, don't you? well-behaved bunnies get rewarded." 

you start to answer, but he runs his cock against your clothed pussy and your head falls back down into the pillow instinctively, letting out a muffled string of moans. his tip teases you, pushing the lace into your wetness and back out again. "what was that, baby? i couldn't hear you."

you scrunch your nose and raise your voice, though it still only comes out as powerful as a squeak. "i said, i'll be good!"

he grins and squeezes your ass with both hands before he pulls your panties off all the way, tugging them down your legs until the thin fabric bunches up at your knees. he drags his cock over your dripping entrance again as you clench around nothing.

“hao,” you whine softly. you tilt your hips backwards to try and push him inside, but he leans back out of your reach. 

“be patient.” he runs his hands along the curve of your ass, bending down to come face to face with your aching cunt. “think i’ll eat this pretty pussy first instead. is that what you want, hm? give me a nice view of your cute little bunny tail while i make you cum all over my tongue?”

you whimper in reply, hiding your face in embarrassment as you lay on your stomach with your ass pushed into the air, proudly displaying your glistening arousal.

with his hands on either side of your hips he pulls you towards his waiting mouth. you gasp into a moan when his lips latch onto your clit, his tongue flicking at the sensitive spot as his nose prods against your entrance.

he presses his tongue flat against you, licking upwards before pulling away. it was happening so fast, too fast, and you wanted more. you needed more. but you should’ve known better than to think he would give you what you want that easily.

“feels good?” he hums, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“please, hao,” you moan. “need you. please, i’ll be good. just don’t stop.”

he scoffs lightly, his face next to your cunt but still too far away for your liking. “and why should i do that? are you gonna behave next time and tell me when you want something?”

“mhm,” you nod weakly. “i will. promise. please, minghao—”

“that’s my good girl. now just let me take care of you, hm?” he presses his lips against your ass in a kiss and you whimper when he begins sucking, hard enough that you know it’ll leave a bruise later. once he’s satisfied he sits back up to his knees, reaching over to pat your head between the ears of your headband. “don’t you worry your fuzzy little head about a thing.”

you let out another moan at his words, relishing in the way he talks about you. it gets you going more than you could’ve ever imagined, and you love him for the way he’s embraced this so wholeheartedly, falling into the role so easily that you’re cursing yourself for ever trying to hide.

he slides back down behind you, using his thumbs to spread your folds apart to give him easier access as he pushes his tongue into you. you can feel yourself growing wetter every second that passes, coating his lips with your slick as he eats you out like a starving man.

he directs his attention away from your clit, tracing his tongue up until it reaches the underside of your tail and the tip of the plug poking out. just like he’d predicted the metal is warm now, heated by the warmth radiating from your holes.

he smooths his hands over your cheeks, kneading them with his slender fingers and pushing you back further into his face. his tongue darts out to lick around the edges of the toy in your ass, and you can’t help but squirm in his grasp as his mouth wanders between your legs, briefly moving back down to suck at your clit before licking upwards again.

your thighs tremble, feeling so much stimulation in ways you'd never knew possible. he traces his tongue over your pussy, dipping into your entrance before he sits back on his knees. 

“you think you deserve to cum now?” he says, and even though you're facedown in the mattress you can still hear the teasing lilt in his voice. “has my little honey bunny earned it, do you think you've been a good girl?”

you're so fucked out already you can barely speak, but you know he wants you to beg him before he'll actually do anything. so you collect yourself and twist your head to look over your shoulder, bunny ears flopping against your back and the most pleading expression you can muster. “mhm… please? been such a good bunny for you.” you prove your point by wiggling your hips, shaking the little tail plug that sticks out of your ass back and forth.

he groans, hands squeezing your waist tighter. he can tell how much you wanted this, how much you're enjoying this, and who is he to deny you any longer when you've been so well behaved? “mm, alright.” he leans down over your back to kiss your shoulder, brushing your hair and your floppy ears out of the way. “gonna let you cum on my cock now, is that what my baby bunny wants?”

you nod eagerly and let out a yip as he finally sinks into you. you swear you've never felt this good in your life as he starts to fill you up, your walls stretching to accommodate his length.

“so fucking tight,” he groans through gritted teeth when he finally bottoms out, his cock buried in your heat. “clenching so hard, i can barely move.”

“minghao—” you plead out his name, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his cock but his grip on your hips is too strong to let you have even a little bit of control.

he stays still for a minute to give you time to adjust, but that doesn't stop him from playing with your tail and tracing his fingers teasingly along your lower back, relishing in the way it makes you shiver and moan his name louder.

finally when neither you nor him can take it anymore, he starts to slide out of you, groaning at the way his shaft is already coated in your slick. he's not sure you've ever been this wet for him before— and you haven't even cum yet.

it doesn't take long for him to build up his pace, propelled by the sight of your cute little tail bouncing with each deep stroke. he spreads your cheeks apart to watch the spot where his length disappears inside you and groans, an idea hitting him as he digs his fingertips into your hips. “fuck, baby— want me to video this? you look so fucking good taking my cock, wanna let you see yourself.”

your walls clench around him faster than your lips can whimper out a “yes”. god, the thought that later you'll get to watch yourself, kneeling on the bed in your pretty lingerie getting fucked like the slutty little bunny you've always wanted to be? it's your biggest dream come true.

he gradually slows down his pace so he can reach over and grab his phone off the nightstand, fingers fumbling with the buttons to start the recording. he shifts his phone into one hand and uses his other to push down on your lower back, forcing you to arch up more for him. 

his long fingers wrap around your side as he starts to thrust into you again, pulling you backwards to meet his cock with each stroke as he builds back up to a brutal pace. he holds the camera up by his chin to make sure he captures a full view of the scene, your pretty ass pushed into the air as a constant stream of whimpers and whines escapes you.

“look at my pretty bunny,” he pants out, squeezing your hip even harder as he fucks into you, knowing everything he says will be immortalized for your pleasure when you watch this together later. “look at you. so good for me, aren’t you?”

you moan out something unintelligible that sounds like a yes, and he rewards you by fucking you harder. he grins and moves his phone closer to your ass to get a better view of your pussy, close enough to see the glint of metal poking out and the way your muscles contract around both it and him with every thrust.

his eyes rake over your body, occasionally glancing at his phone screen to check the video. after a minute he stops the video and tosses his phone aside, quickly moving both hands back to grip your hips so he has more leverage to plunge into you more deeply. your arms give out from the force and you fall forward against the bed, whimpers muffled by the sheets that you grip so tightly to stay grounded to.

one of his hands suddenly leaves your hips and you feel his fingers tangle in your hair, gasping as he jerks your head up again.

“c’mon, baby,” he says, winding his hand around your hair until it tugs your scalp. it burns but it feels so good, sending a shiver down your spine as he pulls on you. “you’ve been so good for me, don’t ruin it now. you can take it. isn’t that right, bunny?”

“fuck,” you whimper as you strain your neck backwards, your tits pushed against the lacy front of your lingerie as you arch your back. “i can—i can take it. please… please.”

his other hand slides up your stomach, pulling you to sit upright with your back against his chest. if it weren’t for minghao’s grip on you, you doubt you’d have even been able to hold your head up on your own, let alone the rest of your body; his forearm wraps around your chest, holding you flush against his body. you swear he’s never fucked you this hard before in your life, slamming his hips into you so hard you already know you’ll be feeling this for days afterwards, his pace never tiring.

minghao is good at giving you what you want, but you’ve always been able to retain at least a little bit of control even in your most fucked out state. but tonight your head is reeling, mouth hanging open with not a single coherent thought running through your mind. maybe it’s the thrill of being “caught”, of him finally figuring out your secret fantasy and letting you play into it.

your first orgasm catches you off guard, overtaking you with no warning. you double over in minghao’s arms as you writhe against him, clenching so hard that even he can’t keep up the pace. his hips stutter as he struggles to continue thrusting, barely managing to even stay inside of you as your muscles contract and try to force his cock out from your pulsing walls.

“go on, baby, let go for me,” he breathes in a low voice against your ear, holding you tighter to keep you in place. “such a good bunny, cumming all over my cock.”

“cu—cumming!” you manage, and you squeeze your eyes shut as another wave slams into you.

he curses under his breath as he snakes his hand down the front of your body to toy with your clit. “fuck— that’s it, baby. let me have it, give me more. such a good girl.”

you lean your head back against his shoulder with another broken moan, all the tension suddenly leaving your body in a rush. the bed is soaked, his thighs are soaked, your pussy is soaked, but you can't stop. his fingers don't stop either, rubbing fast circles on your clit as you squirt.

after what seems like an eternity of cumming you claw at his fingers on your clit, weakly trying to pull his hand away. “h-hao,” you moan, your voice cracking. “wait. stop—”

his grip on your body loosens and he moves his hand before pulling out of you slowly, his cock still hard and aching and his heart pounding with adrenaline. immediately his tone is softer, keeping his voice quiet beside your ear despite his heavy breathing. “what is it, love, what do you need? can you tell me?”

you lean your head back to rest against his shoulder, your body shaking as you try to catch your breath. it’s hard. you can barely think straight from so much stimulation all at once, your head still cloudy from such intense orgasms back to back, and it takes a long few seconds before you can string together your thoughts. “just… need to slow down.” you find his hand on your thigh and squeeze his fingers with all the strength you can muster. “but don’t wanna stop.”

he exhales and turns his head to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. “okay, sweetheart. just let me know. i’m here.”

he knows he was getting a little carried away, but he wasn’t expecting this to get him so riled up. even after he’d figured you out and put his plan into motion he hadn’t once thought about how he felt, so focused on making sure you’d be happy with him.

he’d spent hours online looking for the perfect outfit for you, pretty lingerie that would be comfortable yet still make you feel as beautiful and sexy as you are to him. if only he hadn’t wanted it to be a surprise, because he kind of wishes you’d been able to see the grin on his face when he’d picked out the cutest little tail and ears to match.

he never considered how much he’d enjoy seeing you in the outfit, maybe even more than you, the lace hugging your body as you whimper and whine so cutely for him. if anything, he knows he's definitely going to get his money's worth out of your pretty costume set, because he's already planning out in his mind the next time you'll get to do this together.

you hum his name softly and it brings him out of his head, looking down at your hazy expression. this is still sort of new to him, but he’ll figure out how to handle it. he’s good at that.

“do you wanna lay down?” he asks, fingers tracing up and down your sides and gently toying with the fabric of your bra as he holds you against his body.

you hum in agreement and turn over in his arms, letting him slowly guide you onto your back as he hovers on his hands and knees above you.

you tug at your ears headband and toss it away, and instinctively his hands begin smoothing over your hair to carefully massage your scalp. “uncomfy?” he asks as your eyes flutter shut, a sweet smile on your face at his soothing touch.

“after a while, yeah,” you say softly, leaning your head into his fingertips. you open your eyes slowly, finding his face just inches above yours. “i’m still your bunny?” you ask a little shyly, watching his gaze.

he smiles and leans up to kiss your nose, a habit of his that now means so much more. “mhm. cutest bunny i’ve ever met. and she’s all mine.”

you can feel his throbbing cock resting atop your stomach, and you sigh out his name, reaching up to pull him down to meet your lips. “minghao…” you lift your hips a little, whimpering quietly in response when he groans from the pressure.

“ready to go again?” he breathes, and at your nod he positions his cock back at your entrance, pushing in slowly. the stretch is easy this time and it doesn’t take long before he bottoms out again, bending over you to leave kisses all over your face as you readjust to him. 

you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, whining softly as you squeeze his bicep to try to get him to move. even just having him completely still inside of you feels incredible, but you're eager for more, almost insatiable for him. you don't want this to end just yet.

“god—” he chokes out, thrusting once into you so deep that it makes your head spin. “i'm gonna cum if you keep doing that. not gonna last much longer.”

maybe he’s delirious from so much in one night, but minghao swears you clench harder when he says that. you shake your head, trying to pull him even closer. “don’t care. just want you to fill me up, please?”

he lets out another groan, long and low as he pushes his hips in and out in a slow but steady rhythm. “oh, is that what you want? you want me to breed you? pretty bunny wants to be full of my cum?”

between his dirty talk and the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you, your mind goes blank, and all you can manage is a squeak and a nod and a prayer that he’ll figure it out, how badly you want him to do exactly that. despite everything he’s already given you tonight, you’re absolutely desperate for it, and if you could recall words and sentences right now you would’ve started begging him like your life depended on it.

luckily for you he knows you just as well as he says he does, because he adjusts his hips and thrusts deeper into you, his cock angled upwards to hit you just right with every stroke as filthy words spill from his lips.

“gonna fuck you so full,” he huffs, and you stare wide eyed at the sweat dripping down his cheekbones as he pounds you into the mattress. “taking it so well, gonna breed you like my bunny deserves, stuff you so full. my pretty little bunny, always so desperate for me…”

he doesn't stop, his words beginning to ramble as he focuses all his energy on thinking about your pretty eyes and the sweet, fucked out look on your face that he knows you always get when he cums inside of you because he knows how much you love it.

“please… please,” you whimper, your fingers gripping onto his shoulders so tight, and you know he's right at the edge. each stroke fills you completely, and the pressure from both his cock and the plug still inside you makes you dizzy with pleasure.

minghao buries his face in your collarbone, biting down to muffle his groans as he cums. your own mouth falls open in a gasp as you feel his cock jerk against your walls, pulsing with each thick rope of cum he releases inside. his breath catches in his throat and forces his cock deeper, his pelvis firmly pressed against yours as far in as he can possibly go. 

with shaky hands and even shakier breaths, you wrap your arms around him and hold his head against your chest, your heart still racing as you come down together. he doesn't try to pull out yet, laying down on top of you and letting his weight cover you. you whimper softly as you feel his cum seeping out of you, running down the backs of your thighs. 

after a minute he sighs, looking up at you to make sure you're still okay. “was that alright?” he asks, but your lazy grin tells him all he needs to know.

“love, hey.” he tilts your chin to make you look at him, brushing his thumb against your cheek to make sure you're paying attention. “promise me one thing. next time, just tell me if there's something you wanna try. okay?” he says. his tone is still quiet and gentle, but you can tell he's serious. 

as fun as it is to play this game, he'd much rather you just come to him and talk about it, even if you think it's silly or stupid. he knows it's hard to talk about things you want, but he feels comfortable enough to tell you anything and he hopes one day you'll feel the same, without him having to pry.

“mhm,” you hum sincerely, smiling in contentment at the soft feeling of his fingers on your skin. “i will.”

despite your mumbled voice he can tell you're being genuine with him, and he rewards you with a gentle kiss.

you giggle and run your fingers through his hair, basking in the warm, fuzzy feeling that radiates both inside and out. “so… next time you're gonna wear the outfit, right?”

he laughs and kisses you again, happy that you seem so satisfied after everything. “well, that depends on whether or not you've been a good bunny.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist will be in the comments under this fic since tumblr is having problems with mentions, i can't add them as i usually do. if you'd like to join and be notified when i post a new fic, you can fill out this short form here! :)

#kvanity #kflixnet #k-labels #caratlibrary #[📌] — june.writes #[💻] — onlyhuis1k #minghao smut #the8 smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #minghao fanfic #minghao scenarios #minghao x reader #minghao imagines #the8 fanfic #the8 scenarios #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios

[cosmerelists]

Stormlight Characters Meet an Octopus

As requested by @miss-madithe-baddie :)

It's Octopus Time on Roshar!

1. Kaladin

Kaladin: [stares at octopus] Octopus: [stares at Kaladin] Kaladin: So it...what? Is it one of those creatures that squishes down into crevices during storms? It doesn't look like it has bones. Kaladin: Kinda big though. Would need a big crevice. Octopus: [stares at Kaladin] Kaladin: ... Kaladin: I feel like it's judging me, somehow.

2. Bridge Four

Moash: Well, I don't like it. Moash: An animal with no carapace is unnatural. Rlain: ...You're an animal without a carapace. Moash: W-Well, it's different for humans! We can build houses! Drehy: Maybe the giant squish bug builds houses. Drehy: We all saw it pick up the shell and put it on its head. Skar: That's more fashion than construction, I think. Sigzil: We saw it go into the water. It's a sea creature. Sigzil: Sea creatures don't need carapaces like land animals do. Moash: It's on the land right now!! Skar: Guys, shut up! It's wearing a shell as a hat again! Renarin: It really is quite fashionable.

3. Adolin

Adolin: Sure is weird looking! Adolin: Look! It has little sticky cups under its legs! Kaladin: D-Don't grab it! It's gonna bite you! Adolin: I bet it can crawl up walls 'n' stuff! Adolin: Hey, isn't that something you can do too, Bridgeboy? Kaladin: I use Stormlight! Not sticky vine legs! Adolin: Bet its some kind of tiny Windrunner. Kaladin: It is NOT!

4. Shallan

Shallan: Hush, all of you. Shallan: This thing is beautiful! Gorgeous! Octopus: [abruptly changes color to match surroundings] Shallan: !! Shallan: Talented! Amazing! Shallan: This might be the most important drawing I'll ever do! Adolin: ...You drew me last week for our wedding anniversary? Shallan: [already drawing] And you didn't even change color ONCE!

5. Lopen

Lopen: [staring intently at octopus] Lopen: [staring intently at octopus] Lopen: [staring intently at octopus] Lopen: [concentration face] Rock: ...You're trying to grow more arms, aren't you? Lopen: I didn't know EIGHT was an option!

6. Zahel

Zahel: I've seem those things before. Zahel: Very smart. Zahel: Very tasty. Rock: ...Tasty you say? Shallan: NO

7. Navani

Navani: Seeing this bizarre creature gives me so many ideas. Navani: Dalinar, do you think we should build semi-aquatic vehicles that can go on both land and water and develop color-changing camouflage technology? Dalinar [trying to be a supportive husband]: And perhaps the land-water vehicle could have...tentacles? Navani: No ideas are wrong in the brainstorming stage. Navani: But also no.

8. Dieno (the Mink)

Dieno: [gives octopus a bro nod] Octopus: [gives Dieno a bro nod back] Dalinar: ...What was that? Dieno: Ah, it is nothing! Just two master escape artists recognizing each other. Dalinar: Escape...artist? Dalinar: This creature has done nothing but sit on that rock and occasionally go into that pool this whole time. Dieno: Yet nevertheless, people like us...we recognize each other. Dalinar: ... Dalinar: [doubtfully] If you say so. 

9. Dalinar

It is later. Dalinar is walking through Urithiru. Something from above touches his face with a thwick sound. He looks up. The Octopus is looking down at him from the ceiling, one tentacle reaching down. Lift is also in the ceiling. Lift gives him a thumbs up. Dalinar keeps walking.

10. Lift

Lift: Today has been the greatest day of my life. Lift: I had no IDEA there so many vents 'n' shit that someone like you could squish through! Lift: And when you used your dark water attack to push that button? Amazing! Lift: Even I had trouble keeping up with you!! Lift: Truly, you are my new best friend.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Stormlight Archive #Kaladin #Adolin #Shallan #Dalinar #Navani #Lopen #Lift #Dieno #Zahel

[laidenbreecatchall]

It's been a good drawing day

(transcript under cut)

Character not pictured: "I'm cleaning your nasty ass hats"

Peng: "I feel so naked"

Messy silky black hat hair

Shachi: "Be gentle with them"

Sooour! (Based off Odas drawing of Laws reaction to eating Umeboshi)

(Next to a little doodle of myself) I feel grody

#one piece #trafalgar law #my art #one piece shachi #one piece penguin #hatless shachi #hatless penguin #pirates of heart #heart pirates #law ate a umeboshi btw #penguins hair was impossible to figure out. i tried so many different styles and all of them felt wrong #if or more likely when i draw him again if hes not wearing his hat i'll make his hair uhhh better #shachi looks exactly how he looks in my head #penguin not so much i may futz with his design a bit #i feel like he could be more square #also his nose seems slightly too similar to how i draw Law's #also whenever i dont know what outfit to put a character in its always button up hoodie combo

[13atoms]

Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)

Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean

Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.

Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)

The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.

You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.

It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.

Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.

Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.

“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”

You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.

“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”

“Exactly.”

“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”

Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.

“Not necessarily.”

“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”

His eyes snapped from you to his phone.

“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”

You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.

“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.

There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.

“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.

It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.

Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.

“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”

The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.

It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.

When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.

Spencer.

He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.

“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”

“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”

You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.

“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”

He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.

Oh, Spencer.

“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.

“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”

“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.

 Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.

“God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.

You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.

“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.

You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.

“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.

A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.

“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”

“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”

“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”

There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.

A rare breed.

You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.

You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.

 “Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.

You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.

“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”

The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.

When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.

“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.

“I think so.”

You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.

“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”

Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.

“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”

“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.

Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.

“I mean, look at it!”

You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.

Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.

“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.

“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.

“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”

Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.

“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”

“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”

He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.

“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”

Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.

“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”

He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.

“Are you okay?” you asked finally.

“I’m okay.”

You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.

 “Spencer…”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.

“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”

He didn’t say anything.

“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”

“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”

Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.

“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.

Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.

“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”

“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”

“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”

The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.

“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”

 “I… yeah. I suppose so.”

“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”

“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”

You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?

“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.

You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.

“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”

“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”

You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”

“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.

You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.

“I’ve got no idea.”

Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.

“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”

You frowned.

“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”

“Handsome?”

In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.

“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”

You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.

“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”

Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #fluff #fic #13atoms #im so sorry if this is ooc

[finelinevogue]

notes on love

summary - harry attends the football and you attend the baftas

pairing - fiance!harry x famous!reader

word count - ~1.5k

*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*

It was the first time Harry had made a public appearance in months.

Sans a hat on his head.

After braving a shave to solidify a new chapter in his life, Harry had decided that enough was enough and he just wanted to be seen again. Gain some new publicity.

“I can’t do this.” Harry’s voice rang through your phone.

Your phone was currently propped up on the vanity in front of you, whilst your stylist gracefully worked around you to get your hair and makeup done.

“H, baby. You’re going to a football match where over half the population there will be white bald men. You’ll blend right in.”

You took a sip of your apple juice in its carton as you suppressed a laugh. Harry rolled his eyes at you, taking the joke like the good sport he is.

“I actually have more hair than them. I’m not bald anymore.”

“See! Embrace the new hair, H. You look really good.”

Harry smiled at you then, his eyes which had previously been darting between watching you and looking out the moving car window were now permanently on you.

“Not as beautiful as you, though, love.”

“Don’t even have my makeup on yet.”

“Never needed it.”

You blew him a camera kiss for those words alone.

“Where are you now?” You reached for a slice of pineapple from the bowl of fruit you’d ordered from room service.

“About five minutes away I think. Are you still in the hotel?”

“Yeah. Don’t need to be ready until 5.”

You were getting ready for the BAFTAS, which Harry had hoped to be there with you for but you’d decided to take your nan as your date instead since she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

Harry was more than happy to let Nana, as he liked to call her, be your date to the BAFTAS. Plus, it meant that he could go see the football.

“You’re going to look so pretty.”

Harry had helped your pick out your dress, which was a sophisticated black to contrast the red carpet you’d be walking down. The dress itself was beautifully cut and shaped you in all the right places, making you look elegant and regal.

“I’m nervous.” You picked up your phone so the conversation felt a little more intimate, even though it was still over face-time.

“Why, love?”

“Don’t normally do stuff like this without you.” You pouted.

Harry wished he could kiss that pout away, “And yet the times that you do, you always end up winning! It’s like they never want you to win when i’m there.”

It was a running joke that Harry was your ‘bad luck charm’.

You didn’t believe that though. It’s just that other actors performed better and won, over you, because of it. If anything, you always won because you got to go home and drink hot tea and eat popcorn with your Harry.

“I’ll miss you.” Your face was so close to the camera that Harry could probably see up your nose.

“I miss you. Send me photos when you’re getting ready. I wanna see you before anyone else.”

“Okay.” You smiled. It was routine at this point to always show each other’s public outfits before anyone else.

“Have you got your ring?”

You held up your left hand and wiggled your ring finger in front of the camera. You blushed thinking about the moment that you got given the piece of delicate jewellery, with Harry on one knee.

“Always.”

“You going to wear it on the carpet?”

“Of course. Not going to draw attention to it though. I’ll let people discover it for themselves.”

Harry laughed at the thought. You two were practically the biggest, most A-List, celebrity couple around at the moment and so when people watch sight of you with the ring there’s no doubt it’s all people will talk about for weeks.

Someone told Harry they’d arrived at the venue, then.

“I have to go, honey, but text me updates please. Wanna see you get ready through photos, okay?”

“Okay.” You promised. “Text me to let me know you’re safely home later, please.”

Even though he was going back to his Manchester home, you still liked to know that he was safe and sound. Especially since you were in London and weren’t going to get to be with him tonight.

“Will do. I love you.” Harry kissed his fingers and then dotted them over the camera.

You returned the gesture, “I love you. Bye, bye, bye!”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were just finishing getting ready and scrolling through Twitter.

Harry was trending worldwide for showcasing his new hair. His growing hair. No one had seen him like this since the end of Tour last year.

You pouted because you missed him a lot.

People were absolutely loving it. As always, a lot of people were losing their shit over Harry content. You were too, because you missed him.

“Oh, he looks so good!” Your stylist, Jamie, gasped behind you.

Jamie was currently fixing your hair and you had to say they had done an impressive job.

“I know.” You smiled to yourself.

“He looks like a sexy CEO.”

You laughed out loud at that, “When he puts on his glasses he does.” You agreed.

“Harry wears glasses?” Jamie gasped.

“Yeah, hang on..”

You started to go through your camera roll. It was only a few days ago that he had gotten new glasses, because he’d managed to lose his old ones. Typical.

You stopped on a photo of Harry sat in bed with the duvet up on his chest, a book in his lap and his glasses on. He didn’t realise you had taken the photo of him, but it was now one of your favourites.

“Oh damn…” Jamie gasped. “If your marriage ever goes south, tell him I’ll be available.”

You laughed again, shaking your head in dismissal but also approval.

You went back to Twitter to see if any of the Harrie accounts you follow have tweeted anything. You make yourself laugh as you look through their feral comments.

And just because you like to cause a riot on the internet you liked an insane tweet.

harriesmiles: the way that this photo makes me want to cling onto harry like a koala bear and never let go

It wasn’t long before you were trending with Harry.

Then the face-time call comes through from him.

“Am I done?” You asked Jamie quickly.

He nods, knowing you routine with Harry, and allows you to slip into the bathroom next to the bedroom.

You answered the call shortly after locking the bathroom door.

“Hellooo.” You said in a weird voice, feeling hyper from the Twitter craze.

“Hi, babe.” Harry was obviously outside and trying to watch where he was going, more than looking at you.

“Has the match finished?”

“Yeah.” And you honestly didn’t care enough about football to ask how it went. “Are you ready?”

Harry’s eyes flicked down to his screen momentarily, smirking when he catches sight of your glammed out makeup.

One thing Harry loved more than anything was you in a red-lip, so of course you had to make sure you had one for him - despite the fact he couldn’t kiss it off you tonight.

“What?” You giggled, watching him trying to suppress his smirk in public.

“You’re so annoying. I’m trying to act all cool and mysterious here and you’re making me smile like an idiot.”

You dipped your head and smiled, accentuating the blush that was already powdered onto your cheeks.

“H, honey, you’re walking through the streets of Manchester. No one cares about how you act. They’re probably all drunk anyways.”

“True, true.”

“Did you have a pint?” You propped your phone on the counter.

“Uh, yeah.” He said whilst trying to cross a road.

“Love, do you want to call me back when you’re at less risk of being hit by a car?” You sarcastically asked.

“No!” He yelped. “No. Needs to be now.”

You gave him a confused look but carried on regardless.

You shuffled back in the bathroom, giving him a full angle.

You watched in anticipation as Harry looked at you through his tiny screen, wishing it were ten times bigger.

“Wow.” Was all he said and you giggled like a girl having a high-school crush. “I love you so much.”

“So you like?” You swished your dress from side to side.

“Mhm. Wishing I wasn’t so far from you now.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll have all the kisses for you then.”

“Tomorrow it is, then.” Harry smirked to himself, kissing the camera.

Little did you know that tomorrow was coming a lot sooner. In fact, Harry had been running for the earliest train out of Manchester and down to London for the duration of the phone call. Because Harry was always going to show up for you.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic rec

[sundrop-writes]

Careful - Chapter Four

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Four: Last Hope

It’s just a spark but it’s enough to keep me going.

Summary:

The entire axis of your world is shifting.

Spencer is not the man you left alone all those years ago, and you don't know how to react to him being such a perfect, caring father. You also don't know how to react to the potential that you could be killed by someone who has already gutted five other women.

Luckily, Spencer is there to protect you. Another thing you don't fully know how to react to - but somehow, you just go with it.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. (Slight) Fluff and Angst.

Word Count: 8,800

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: Again, basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, the reader character is the next target of a serial killer; mentions of the reader wearing a sexy Halloween costume (during a flashback); mentions of gender roles - the reader doesn’t raise Sebastian with strict gender roles (and Spencer appreciates this); mentions of the reader giving birth (not graphic descriptions); some emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; angst because Spencer is upset about missing out on so much of Sebastian’s life; passing mention of abortion; the reader is threatened (in a graphic way) and called whore in a derogatory manner by the UnSub; Spencer is also threatened in a very graphic way by the UnSub; specific threats of stabbing and rape (toward the reader); passing mention of poop (because come on, this is a little kid, and kids talk about their poop a lot); I believe that’s it for this chapter.

A/N: So, this chapter starts off with a flashback rather than ending with one, because flashbacks are important to how information is revealed to the audience, and I think it works here. Idk what else to say about this chapter - I think it's a nice transition into the climax. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Halloween. It was always a time when Spencer thrived the most - and he thrived even more when spending it with you. 

It was your second Halloween together as a couple, and Spencer loved that you enjoyed celebrating the holiday just as much as he did. You loved dressing up, you loved all of the spooky lore behind Halloween. And of course, you loved listening to all of the real life facts he had to tell you about Halloween’s history, and things like vampires, werewolves, zombies, and all of the Halloween traditions and how they evolved over time. 

You didn’t think before that learning about the origins of Halloween could make it even more fun, but Spencer somehow made it into the most exciting educational documentary of your life. 

This year, you had invited him to a house party that one of your work friends was hosting. It would be some light drinking, finger food, dancing to cheesy Halloween songs, and most likely sitting around and talking while roasting marshmallows around your friend’s backyard fire pit. It wouldn’t be anything big, but you expected it to be a really fun night. 

You showed up to Spencer’s place wearing a straight off the rack, generic ‘sexy witch’ costume. It consisted of a very wide brimmed pointy hat, dark make-up, and a tight corset drawing attention to your curves, as well as a short tulle skirt, flared sleeves, and black fishnets and black boots to top off the look. He found you irresistible and almost wanted to stay at home. But he was looking forward to the party; he was excited to meet your friends and he knew that the occasion meant a lot to you. 

He told you that he was planning on going as a young Ernest Hemmingway, and as much as you adored it, because it was a very Spencer thing to do - you knew that it was very unlikely that anybody else at the party would be able to identify his costume on sight, and that would probably disappoint him. He would be standing proudly, asking people to guess who he was, and they would come up blank because they weren’t in the same mindset as him. 

So you advised him of this, and encouraged him to steer his costume in a different direction. (And Spencer - trusting any advice you gave, simply let you lead him.) 

You took the late 1800s style clothing he had picked out for the occasion, and some of the makeup you had brought in your bag for potential touch-ups - and you convinced him to let you dress him up as a sexy vampire who had been turned in the late 1800s. 

You did his makeup - with some dark eyeliner, that he winced at the entire time, some dark eyeshadow, and some red lipstick smudged around his mouth to appear as though it were blood he had just siphoned from his latest victim. And the entire time you worked, he came up with an elaborate name and backstory for his vampire character. You delighted in listening to him tell you all about Frederic Henry - named after a Hemmingway character. A man who was shot in the military and assumed dead, but who was saved in the trenches of World War I by a vampire’s bite, and then lived on. 

You encouraged him to wear his shirt unbuttoned quite a bit, creating a deep V down to his chest that he wouldn’t have worn any other time. Thinking about his story, you even used the eyeliner to create the scar of a bullet wound on his chest, slightly hidden by his shirt - something to hint at Frederic’s tragic past. 

(Both you and Spencer got way too into it, but you were having fun.) 

You were running a bit late by the time you left Spencer’s apartment, but it was a casual house party, and you knew that nobody was going to call you out for being ‘late’. 

You parked a few blocks away, not wanting to drive through the neighborhood with so many kids out and about on foot. It was still early in the evening, and many kids were still out, knocking on doors, getting their candy. 

“They’re so cute, aren’t they?” You remarked as the two of you walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand with Spencer as you made your way toward the party among a sea of Trick or Treaters. 

“Kids in costumes? Or just kids in general?” Spencer replied with a chuckle, trying to clarify what you had said. 

(There was a hopeful edge in his voice, a daring longing in his eyes as he looked at the parents helping their children from house to house. Something deep inside of him that hoped the two of you could have your place here a few years from now.) 

“Kids in general are cute.” You shrugged. “But kids in their little costumes are so much cuter.” 

Spencer’s insides fluttered - seeing you light up with joy just talking about children, knowing that it might be in your future. Knowing that it might be a part of his future with you. 

“If we had a baby, would you wanna dress him up for Halloween?” Spencer asked. 

You wanted to fixate on the ‘if’ - to tell him that you thought it was something more certain in your future, with the way things were going. That you thought he would make an amazing father. That you wanted it to be a ‘when’. 

Instead, you chose a different part of his statement to pick at. 

“You sound awfully certain that our kid would be a boy.” You chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who would be disappointed by having a girl.” 

That would be a dealbreaker for you. As amazing as Spencer was - he had to be just as good of a father to a daughter as he would be to a son in order to stay in the picture. 

“Goodness, no.” Spencer replied, shaking his head. 

He held back. He didn’t tell you that he had spent far too much time - hours on the plane rides back home, nights when he couldn’t sleep - thinking about his future with you. He imagined three kids. An oldest boy, and two girls, about a year or two apart each. A golden retriever, a house - he had even picked out which district he wanted to live in based on schools in the area and lowest crime rates. 

He knew it was stupid, but he had already been squirreling away money for a downpayment on that house. When you were ready, he wanted to be able to give you everything you could ever ask for. He had way too much time to fantasize, and he didn’t want to admit that to you now. 

“Just - it slipped out.” He chuckled. “I would be thrilled if we had a little girl. But - I pictured us having a boy.” 

In his mind’s eye, his daughter was so much like you. And if that came to pass, then he would be the luckiest man on earth. 

“You did?” You grinned at him, a distinct light in your eye. 

Spencer found his chest untightening as he breathed in relief. 

“Well, if he’s half as cute as you,” You said, moving a hand over to pinch one of his cheeks, which made him smile and let out a huff, half forming into a laugh. “Then I definitely wanna dress him up in a Halloween costume. Especially while he’s still little and cute and can’t argue about what I wanna dress him up as. Before he starts talking and wants to be that fuzzy guy from Star Wars.” 

“You mean Chewbacca?” Spencer asked, wondering which one you were talking about. 

“Yeah!” You said. “The big ugly one. The little teddy bear guys are cute, but the big one is kind of creepy.” 

“We had an all-day Star Wars marathon, and you didn’t tell me that you thought Chewbacca was creepy?” Spencer chuckled, his mind now distancing from the subject of the two of you having kids. 

“Yeah, because you were there to protect me!” You replied, your voice still filled with lightness and laughter. “And I didn’t even really realize it until after. I had this weird nightmare-” 

“You had nightmares about Chewbacca?” 

“One nightmare! It was only one!” 

The subject of children was forgotten, then. 

Your laughter echoed off into the night, and you didn’t think much of the conversation. 

Spencer remarked on it as a precious memory - as a sign that his savings account was an insurance policy for his future, not a fool’s errand. After the break-up, he thought about it over and over - he wondered where he had gone so wrong, how he had lost you. If you had felt so secure in your future together - how had he lost you?

… 

Spencer wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was growing more and more love for Sebastian with each passing moment. 

After he got off the phone with Derek, he went back into the house to be mobbed by Sebastian. Having the boy run into his arms with so much excitement - it made him feel more heroic than anything he had done with the BAU for the past years of his life. So often, when he carted off a killer to jail or when he saw a victim returned to the arms of their family, he couldn’t feel the relief or the calm that JJ or Gideon spoke of. He just felt so empty. 

But having Sebastian hug him tight and ramble in his ear with excitement about all his plans for their afternoon - it made his chest swell with a grand importance that he had only gotten a taste of when he was with you. When he was making you happy. It felt like a moment that his whole life was leading up to. 

You asked Spencer if it was okay for you to go back to your office and get some work done while he occupied Sebastian, and he could think of nothing he wanted more - except maybe for you to join him, and to spend some true quality time with him and his son. But he hoped that would come later. And this in itself was progress - you trusting him to play with Sebastian, to spend time alone with him while you got your work done. 

Sebastian showed Spencer every single one of his toy dinosaurs, and they played with those for quite a while. They also had a tea party with some large bears and dolls present - and Spencer was delighted by the fact that you didn’t buy him gender specific toys. Knowing that this opened up different areas of play and imagination, and allowed for his development to be nurtured by gentleness and caring that young boys didn’t often get in a society so rigid about gender roles. 

Spencer really couldn’t imagine a better boy. You had raised such a beautiful, smart son. Someone who was polite, so caring, and gentle. 

Spencer was practically swollen with love, overwhelmed at getting to spend time with his son. 

His heart felt as though it might burst out of his chest and he knew that he looked fitful, actively holding back overwhelmed tears while Sebastian poured the imaginary tea for each member sitting around the small plastic table and they clinked their tiny plastic cups together in a toast. 

Then, Sebastian wanted to show Spencer a favorite movie of his. He rushed downstairs to put it on the TV, and as he was picking it out among the DVDs, he became distracted by something at the top of the shelf beside the TV. 

“My Halloween basket!” Sebastian said, pointing to an orange basket at the top of the shelf - one that did appear as though it was for Halloween, with a jack-o-lantern’s face painted on the front of it. 

“Mommy says treats are for after dinner. But… can we have one now?” The boy looked hopefully toward Spencer, knowing that he would be able to reach the basket and bring it down toward him. 

Spencer didn’t want to undermine your rules. You had done so well raising Sebastian this far, so you were clearly doing everything right. 

He crouched down to the boy’s level. 

“We should go ask your Mommy if it’s okay to have one.” He told Sebastian, who nodded, and then ran off toward your office with that thunderous urgency in his steps. 

He heard a distant ‘Mommy!’ - and a bang that could have been Sebastian’s version of a knock or him downright smacking the office door until it opened. But then he heard your voice murmuring and what must have been a frustrated sigh. 

Spencer felt slightly bad that he had sent Sebastian to interrupt your work, especially over something so small. But he didn’t want to lose progress with you and have you reaming him out for giving your son sugar without your permission. 

You soon came into the room and went straight for the candy bucket, lifting it off the shelf and bringing it down to Sebastian’s level so that he could choose one. 

“I know it seems cruel. But I didn’t want him eating it all on Halloween and puking, so he’s allowed to have one a day, usually as a treat after dinner.” You explained, clearly wanted to lay out your reasoning for Spencer. 

“No, no, it’s not cruel.” Spencer replied quickly. “It’s a good idea. Regulating his intake of sugar while not completely restricting it as something sacred or off-limits. It’s a good call.” 

Sebastian picked out a small packet of M&Ms, and then you went to lift the bucket away, and he spoke up. 

“Can I pick one for my friend Spencer, too?” He asked. 

“Yeah, go ahead.” You nodded, and then you added on: “Spencer’s favorite is Snickers.”

Of course, Spencer was floored that you remembered this. 

Sebastian picked out a mini Snickers and then excitedly thrust it in Spencer’s direction. 

“Aw, thanks buddy!” Spencer said, eagerly taking it with a grin, even reaching out to give him a high five while he smiled up at Spencer in return. 

(He was too busy looking at Sebastian with those stars in his eyes to notice the way you were watching the pair - watching all of your dreams unfold before you with an odd mixture of bitterness and affection swelling up inside of you.) 

Sebastian moved on to picking out the movie and you went to walk out of the room again, seemingly to get back to work, but Spencer stopped you. Something else was on his mind. 

“Y/N.” He called your name gently, and you turned back to him, your arms crossed stiffly. 

He was just glad that you didn’t seem so angry at him using your name this time. 

“Do - do you have any pictures of Sebastian in his Halloween costume?” He asked meekly, afraid that you would stamp out this request with more anger and defensiveness. 

“Why?” You gaped, seeming very confused that he would even ask this. 

“I - I just wanted to see.” Spencer replied. 

‘Because I missed out on so much of him.’ He hesitated to say. ‘I know it’s impossible, but I want those years back.’ 

The deep sadness lingering in Spencer’s eyes caused your stomach to clench. 

He had really changed. This wasn’t the same man who had been standing in the apartment that night. This wasn’t the same person who had been so callous and stubborn - the same person that you felt you needed to protect your unborn child from. 

Maybe this was the man you had fallen in love with, somehow rescued from the clutches of that person you didn’t know who had mocked you while wearing Spencer’s face. 

“Gimme a minute.” You told him. And then you leaned in close before you whispered something else. “And you should let him see you eat the Snickers, otherwise he’s gonna be insulted.” 

Spencer smiled at this. 

Sebastian waved him over then, and he asked which DVD Spencer would rather watch. Spencer ate the Snickers and thanked Sebastian for sharing his treats once again while the boy went through a very detailed explanation of the plot of the films so Spencer would have an informed choice. And then Spencer picked, and Sebastian moved to put the movie into the DVD player. 

This was when you came back with a thick envelope filled with pictures and handed them over to Spencer. 

“I had these printed a while ago.” You explained. “I was planning on making a scrapbook for my mom, for mother’s day. It’s… basically every important moment in Sebastian’s life.” 

“That’s my baby picture!” Sebastian said excitedly, looking over at the pictures in Spencer’s lap. “That’s when I was a baby, after I was born. I was one day old. Mommy said that everyone used to be one day old at some point, but that just sounds weird!”

Spencer’s throat clenched up with tears, and this clashed with the laughter he experienced from Sebastian’s comments. 

But as he looked through the pictures, he had a much harder time holding back his tears. 

Seeing all of the pictures, all of those moments - it slowly broke him. 

The first picture was one of Sebastian wrapped in a very clinical swaddling blanket when he was still so new and wrinkly, only hours after his birth. Spencer could imagine how small Sebastian would have been in his arms. The tiny little newborn sounds he would have made. Spencer wished that he could have held your hand through the birth, that he could have been there with both of you in the hospital during those first few days of his life. 

Then, a picture of you holding Sebastian in his nursery when you had brought him home from the hospital - a photo that was most likely taken by your mom. You had such a big, bright smile on your face. You looked so perfect with him in your arms. You were such a good mother. 

There were pictures of him when he was more alert - his big, curious eyes looking at the world for the first time; what appeared to be his first picnic out at the park when he was laying on his back on a soft blanket, taking in the world for the first time. Spencer could imagine how sweet his baby laughter would be - what it would have been like blowing raspberries on his soft belly and kissing you under the warm sun. 

He continued flipping through the photos - another one of what must have been his first Halloween. He was dressed up as a chubby round Jack-o-Lantern with his little fist in his mouth, drooling around it while your mother held him for the picture. 

And then - pictures of him walking experimentally while you held him by both of his hands; him sitting in front of a Christmas tree, opening an exciting Christmas toy that made him beam with a big smile. 

Pictures of important memories all throughout his life, all the way up until recently. This past Halloween, he had dressed up as Luke Skywalker. 

He liked Star Wars. 

“Um, can I use your bathroom?” Spencer choked out. 

He knew that he was crying very blatantly now. 

His chest was caving in as all of it truly hit him - how much of his son’s life he had missed. He didn’t wait for you to direct him because he knew that he had passed the bathroom coming down the hall. He abandoned the photos in the middle of the coffee table, haste to escape.  

Sebastian looked at him with sad eyes as he stormed out of the room. 

“Why is my friend Spencer sad?” He asked in a small voice, looking up at you. “He doesn’t like my pictures?” 

“No, honey, your pictures are beautiful.” You assured him, kneeling down by the table and gathering up the pictures. “It’s complicated…” You let out a huff, not knowing how to explain it to him. Not even knowing where to start. “It’s grown-up stuff, okay? Just - just watch your movie.” 

You stacked the photos back into the envelope, and you hoped that Sebastian wouldn’t follow you as you raced down the hall toward Spencer. You weren’t surprised to find the bathroom door closed. 

“Spence,” You called out his name as you knocked gently on the bathroom door. 

That gutted him even more. Spence. 

Another harsh reminder of the life he had lost. 

“I’m sorry.” He called back, his voice audibly drenched in tears. 

Your throat tightened up. 

This began to shift your entire axis. The man you had left standing alone that night - you thought he was a man who would have never cared about your son. Someone who would have asked you to get an abortion or distanced himself from the pregnancy as much as possible. 

But this man - this felt like the Spencer you knew, the one you fell in love with. 

He cared so much. 

This was someone who could fit into your life, someone who could help raise your son. 

And tugging right at your heart, something you wanted to deny - this was a man you wanted to be your husband, as well as the father of your child. 

“Spencer, please-” 

Spencer opened the door then, and upon instinct, you drew back, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. Unconsciously, you were protecting yourself. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized again. “Did I scare him? I didn’t mean to.” He asked, looking behind your shoulder as if waiting for Sebastian to appear. 

There it was again - prioritizing your son above all else. Worry for him. 

Something you wouldn’t have expected. Something that forced you to shift your whole perspective. 

“He’s fine.” You told him. “He - he probably just wants you to watch the movie with him.” You said, entirely honest, motioning toward the living room - where the sound of Sebastian’s cartoon movie could be heard playing from the television. 

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Spencer noted, reaching for some toilet paper to wipe his eyes with. 

You squeezed your hands tighter around your arms, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You wanted to wipe those tears away yourself. Spencer’s keen eye went right to this movement, and you felt so caught. 

“I should go start dinner.” You said, eager for an excuse to escape the situation. 

You whisked down the hall before Spencer could say anything else, and before his mind could linger too much on it - on you - his phone rang again. 

It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he had to guess that it was one of the phones from the local police station - someone from the team calling with an update about the case. 

“Reid here.” He answered, deeply hoping that he didn’t sound too tearful over the phone. 

“Do you like pretending, Doctor Reid?” 

That certainly wasn’t a voice he recognized. 

“Excuse me?” Spencer squeaked back, having no clue what this meant. 

“Do you like playing house, Doctor Reid?” 

The person on the other end posed a slightly different question. The voice was sharp and certain, completely devoid of genuine emotion. It caused a chill down Spencer’s spine, and he knew, somehow- 

The UnSub had gotten a hold of his phone number, and felt the need to taunt him by getting in contact with him. 

“Unlike you, I’m not playing.” Spencer growled in return, already having the profile in his pocket. “I don’t need to play house to fulfill some God complex. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life being there for my son, raising him. And as long as I am here, in this house, no harm will come to my son or the woman who raised him.” 

“Hmm…” The man seemed entirely bored with Spencer’s words. “The woman who raised him. Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved. But she did such a good job raising the boy, didn’t she? Seems like she didn’t even need you in the picture, did she? Such a sweet little thing… anybody could just waltz right into that house, slit her throat and take him. He’s smart enough to do well on his own now.” 

Spencer knew that it was a tactic intended to get to him, and he shouldn’t have let it emotionally affect him as much as it did - but fuck, it got to him. 

“Don’t talk about her that way.” He growled into the phone. “Don’t talk about them, that way, I swear to god, I’ll-” 

“You’ll do what, Doctor Reid?” The man cut him off, clearly mocking him. Clearly in disbelief that Spencer could ever truly be violent in response to his family being threatened. 

Spencer choked on a breath, trying to compose himself. 

“Now, now. Simmer now.” The man cooed, still mocking, entirely condescending. “And don’t you worry, Doctor. Every whore gets her time to be an angel. I’m sure that she’s going to look so beautiful when she’s moaning and writhing in pain while my knife plunges into her guts. Don’t worry, Daddy - I’ll treat her as gently as I can.” 

Spencer sucked in a breath, preparing to yell at the man, but then - the line went dead with a sharp ‘click’. Spencer pulled back his phone and looked at the display - he memorized the number so that he could give it to Garcia later, and then, he called JJ. 

“Reid, hey.” 

She sounded worried. 

Any rage pumping through him that the unknown man had triggered in him melted away, and he immediately wondered why JJ had taken on that sad, sullen tone. 

Before he could ask, she spoke up again. 

“We… were just wondering if we should call you.” 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“The UnSub knows you’re in the house.” She announced, ripping the band-aid off all at once. 

Spencer wondered again how this was possible. But he figured that it was better to exchange information and let the questions naturally arise than to ask the questions himself. 

“Yeah, he just called me.” He told JJ. “Clearly with the intention to antagonize me.” 

“Wait, hold on.” JJ sighed. In the police station, she walked into the conference room where the team was working and put her phone on speaker for the room before she spoke to Spencer again. “Tell them what you just told me.” 

“Someone who I can only assume was the UnSub just called me.” Spencer explained. “It was very clear that he was trying to antagonize me. He - he seemed jealous that I’m here - that I’m trying to take his place as father in the household before he could get here.” 

“What makes you say that?” Hotch asked. 

“He claimed that I was ‘playing pretend’. He called me Daddy. He mocked my love for Y/N, and taunted me with the idea of him… potentially killing her.” Spencer found those last words particularly difficult to speak, but he knew that the team needed all the information at hand. 

“Let me guess, he called you from a blocked number?” Prentiss wondered aloud. 

“No, actually.” Spencer replied. “Do you have a pen? I can give you the number and you can have Garcia run it.” 

“Fire away.” Prentiss replied. 

“503-202-1052.” Spencer told her. 

“I’ll call Garcia now.” She said - on the other end, getting up from the table to call Garcia on her cell. 

“JJ said you guys have something too?” Spencer asked, still wondering what JJ had meant. 

“The scumbag sent us a letter.” Morgan answered. “The envelope was full of pictures. A bunch of pictures of your girl and the kid from weeks back - them at the park, at restaurants, at the grocery store. He’s way farther ahead in his timeline than we thought he was.” 

“Yeah, and there’s… something else.” Rossi sighed. “He also included pictures of you and JJ standing on the porch when you arrived at the house. And one of you coming back to the house later, by yourself. In one of them… he crossed your eyes out with a red marker. It’s clear that he sees you as competition. A clear threat to his fantasy.” 

“But - how does he know that I’m Sebastian’s real father?” Spencer wondered aloud. 

“Perhaps he only sees you as competition because you’re another male encroaching on his territory. Because you’ve spent prolonged time at the house, seemingly to protect her and the child.” Hotch theorized. 

“No…” Spencer said, putting the pieces together in his. “On the call, he said: ‘Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved.’” Spencer repeated it perfectly from memory, feeling a pang in his chest at calling you a ‘whore’, even if it wasn’t his own wording. “It was like he knew that me and Y/N dated before and broke up. Like he knows that Sebastian is a result of our previous relationship.” 

“That is… strange.” Rossi remarked. “Do you think that Y/N might have mentioned your relationship to a friend, or a neighbor? Maybe… she might have confided in somebody?” 

“It’s possible.” Spencer sighed. “But since she’s moved here, she’s surrounded herself with women. A female babysitter, fellow moms as her friend group.” It was something he had noticed in the more recent photos of Sebastian. “Our UnSub is a man - I don’t see her divulging those types of things to him, even if she didn’t know he was a potential threat.” 

“Well either way, he knows. And he’s pissed off.” Morgan sighed. “I mean, the wording of this letter… it makes sense why he seems so hostile toward Reid. It’s not just anger toward a random man who’s encroaching on his territory - it’s a personal rage towards someone he feels could actually ruin his chances with Y/N if he’s built up this fantasy of having her in his mind over these weeks.” 

Morgan picked up the letter and read some lines from it. “‘I will stab him in the spine, paralyzing him and forcing him to watch as I rape that whore - I will take her as my own while he pleads for mercy. I will show him what happens when weak men abandon their obligations. If Daddy wants to play, I’ll play too.’” 

“Is that really what he thinks?” Spencer huffed, unable to hold back his emotions. “That I abandoned my obligations? Does he really think that-?” 

“Reid.” Hotch said firmly, cutting off Spencer’s ranting. “Stay calm. What we really need to ask ourselves now is: how does he know so much about you? How does he know so much about your past that even we didn’t know?” 

He added this on - seemingly taking offense to the fact that most of the team didn’t know that Spencer had a serious girlfriend in the past. A relationship that had resulted in a child. 

Just then, Emily came back into the room. 

“Garcia said the phone number goes to a public library on the other side of town.” She announced. 

“Morgan, you and Prentiss go to the library - see if anyone there saw the UnSub or if they have any potential security footage of him.” Hotch ordered. 

“Reid, see if you can convince Y/N to come into protective custody.” Hotch added on, turning his attention to the man on the phone. “With the UnSub being further along in his timeline than we thought, and seemingly being provoked by your presence, we really need to protect her and her child. Stress that fact to her. We need to keep a close eye on her until we can find a viable suspect.” 

“Yes, of course.” Spencer replied, before ending the call. 

Spencer splashed some cold water on his face, truly trying to pull himself together before he exited the bathroom. 

It truly hit him, then. 

This day wasn’t about some soft, sappy reunion with you and his son. This day was about the fact that you had been targeted by a dangerous, deranged killer. And he needed to do everything in his power to protect you from that horrible man. 

A fresh, vicious wave of determination went through him - if he had to tear out the man’s throat with his teeth, then he would. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest amount of harm come to you or his boy. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. 

He put on a smile, not wanting to potentially scare Sebastian with a frown or his trembling fear over what might happen. He tried his hardest to push all of it out of his mind for now as he walked down the hallway and back into the living room - where a musical cartoonish number was in full swing on the TV. 

“You were in the bathroom for a long time!” Sebastian commented brightly. “Did you have to go poop?” 

Spencer let out a laugh at this. This almost instantly lifted his mood - the fact that such a young kid didn’t have the sense of embarrassment or social constructs in order to know that it wasn’t really routine to ask someone what they had been doing in the bathroom. He easily found humor in Sebastian’s bluntness. 

“Seb, what did we say about asking people about their poop?” You called out from the kitchen, clearly having heard the conversation. 

(So this was a habit of his?) 

“Sorry!” Sebastian called back. Sebastian then turned back to Spencer. “Your poop is only your business. Unless you have to tell the doctor about your poops.” He assured Spencer, clearly repeating something that his mother had told him. 

Spencer nodded. “It’s all good, bud.” He said, smiling at Sebastian. “I’m gonna go talk to your mom, okay?” 

“Are you gonna watch the movie with me?” Sebastian asked. 

“I promise, I’ll watch whatever you want to later.” Spencer replied. 

He made it a promise because he wanted to hold himself to it - he wanted to spend lots of days watching films with his son. And playing games, and teaching him things. He promised himself that there would be lots of time to do these things with Sebastian in the future because nobody would interrupt that for him. 

But for now, he had to convince you to agree to protective custody so that the three of you could have the safety and security of a future together. 

Sebastian seemed content with this answer and turned back to the TV, and Spencer ventured into the kitchen, where you were preparing dinner. 

“Hey, Spence.” You greeted him gently. “I’m assuming that you’re staying for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, just some pasta with cream sauce, and chicken and broccoli.” You explained, gesturing around to the many items you had surrounding you - a pot of boiling water, and cutting boards with different vegetables, and one sequestered off in the corner with cut-up chicken pieces waiting to be put in a frying pan that was still heating up. 

“Sounds good.” He easily agreed. “After dinner, we need to pack a bag for Sebastian, and you need to get some stuff together so that we can get you guys into protective custody.” He said, posing it more like a gentle suggestion than a question that you could say no to. 

He truly hoped that he wouldn’t have to go into the graphic details as to why you needed the protection - why it was more urgent now. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to resort to telling you about the man who had threatened to go poking around in your insides with a knife while making him watch. 

Not surprisingly, you completely ignored what Spencer said. 

“Unless you prefer Turtle Mac n Cheese?” You said, instantly deflecting away from the topic, holding up a box of mac n cheese that had some cartoonish characters on it. They were green and looked vaguely like anthropomorphic turtles. Spencer guessed that this was what you were making for Sebastian’s dinner - most likely along with having him eat some broccoli, because you seemed determined for him to at least somewhat eat healthy. “I think that cartoon shapes really give it that extra gourmet flare.” 

“Stop that.” Spencer demanded gently, taking the box out of your hands and placing it somewhere else on the counter. You frowned at him. “Stop acting like what’s happening isn’t a big deal. If you’re doing this because you’re frightened-” 

“I’m not frightened.” You said, cutting him off. “I just don’t think that the FBI needs to be wasting resources on me when there’s people out there who are actually in danger. Or people who have dead loved ones who need answers.” 

“Exactly.” Spencer pressed. He lowered his voice before he spoke his next words, though he knew it was unlikely that Sebastian would hear him over the movie playing on the TV. 

“The man who sent you those flowers has already killed five other women.” He stressed, pointing behind you, toward the vase with the white carnations in it. He was surprised that you hadn’t thrown the flowers away after what he and JJ had told you. “Five women’s families are waiting for answers about who killed them. And you could be helping us-” 

“I can’t help you, though.” You shrugged. “There are no men in my life. There’s nobody Spencer. There hasn’t been since I broke up with you.” You snapped, giving him a harsh glare - as though you resented him for ruining you, tainting your heart and leaving you broken. 

The realization shattered him a bit more. All this time, he had been worried that you had moved on, that you were living a better life without him. But you had been just as lonely as he was - aside from the company of a small child that reminded you more and more of Spencer every single day. 

Spencer took a breath, trying to focus. 

“Just come into protection.” He pressed. “The FBI will take you to a safehouse, and-” 

“A safehouse?” You scoffed. “How is that any safer than the house we’re currently standing in? Does it have bulletproof windows and a steel reinforced door? Or - or is it just a regular house with regular windows, and regular walls, and a regular door? Just like my house?” You chuckled sarcastically, moving to grab the cutting board with the chicken, shoving it into the now heated pan with the back of your knife. 

Spencer’s nerves were grated on by your sarcasm. 

“Dammit, Y/N!” He shouted, much louder than he intended to. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to protect you?” 

“Yeah, and where the hell was that attitude four years ago when I begged you to-” You swiftly cut yourself off, the words dying off in your throat, not wanting to rip open old wounds. 

You tossed the items back onto the counter with a crash, only causing more tension in the air. You took in a sharp breath - suddenly, standing in front of the stove, you felt too hot. 

You reached for the edge of your hoodie without thinking, and peeled it up over your head. You were wearing a thin camisole underneath, but surprisingly, your black bra being so visible through the thin white fabric wasn’t the thing that caught Spencer’s eyes as more and more of you was revealed. 

There it was. 

The four-pointed star necklace that he had given to you on your birthday was sitting in the middle of your chest, right where it belonged, glaring at Spencer, taunting him. 

It became apparent to him in seconds that you had been wearing it all day. You had answered the door earlier that day wearing that pale blue hoodie, having no clue that Spencer would be on the other side. You had no reason to impress him, quite angered that he was even there in the first place, actually. So you had been wearing it under your hoodie since before then - since the beginning of the day, likely. 

You had been holding it close to your chest as something precious - hiding it under your clothes as a secret, just for yourself. 

If there was a single shred of doubt in Spencer’s mind that he had loved you more, that he had missed you more since the break-up, it was gone now. You hadn’t dated other men, and you had silently carried that symbol of him, as if unconsciously beaconing him back to you. 

When you finally got the fabric off your head, you instantly noticed him gaped-jawed and staring at your chest. You wouldn’t have called him a pervert, because before you even glanced down to confirm that you had the necklace on - you knew. A terrible guilt struck through your gut, like you had been caught stealing something, and you froze up on the spot. 

You and Spencer locked eyes for a moment, and his hands quivered with the terrible need to reach out and touch you - though in that moment, standing just across the kitchen from you, he felt a thousand miles away. He had a terrible need to hold you, yet he had never felt more distant from you. He had never felt more prohibited from touching you since the moment you had first grabbed his hand on that very first date. 

How long had you wanted him back and said nothing? How many days had you woken up thinking about him, knowingly raised his son alone, and made no effort to contact him? 

“I - I have to go change my clothes.” You said, your voice so utterly small. “Can you watch the stove?” 

You didn’t wait for a reply before you turned and whisked off again, clearly too eager to escape the tension. 

Spencer busied himself with watching over the food - stirring here and there, and starting the cartoon turtle mac and cheese based on its boxed instructions - trying desperately not to think about what all this meant. 

When you came back, you were wearing a simple, light tee shirt. And it was easy to see that you had taken off the necklace and put it away somewhere. 

… 

Having Spencer there for dinner felt like role-playing as a family. 

With Sebastian in his usual seat behind the dinosaur placemat, sitting between the two of you - it felt like something out of a strange, distant dream. He kept looking to Spencer for encouragement when he ate his broccoli and didn’t spill his juice, and Spencer stared at you across the table, having that constant fond look in his eye whenever he turned back to Sebastian or talked to him in that sweet, soothing voice. 

Spencer also watched you, and tried to make it seem subtle. You noticed his eyes drifting over to your plate, ensuring that you were eating, as he had done many times before. You wanted to make another snarky comment about him pretending to care, but you kept your mouth shut. 

It felt so shallow, and plastic, with the supposed threat hanging over your head; knowing that the only reason Spencer was there in the first place was because he believed that you were in danger. 

Yet, it felt like something you had been doing all your life. It felt like just another night. Like Spencer had come home from work to this a thousand times; like you would get up and do the dishes and kiss him and then bring him to your bed for the night. It felt like that’s how things should be. 

You really weren’t sure if you loved it or hated it. 

You were nearly finished with your food and Spencer’s dinner was half-done, food getting cold on his plate while he encouraged Sebastian to finish up - when there was a knock on the door. 

You expected it to be JJ again, pressing you about the protective custody thing. You let out a harsh sigh when Sebastian quickly wormed out of his chair and raced toward the door - eager to answer it himself. 

“Seb!” You called after him. “What have I told you about answering the door when Mommy isn’t there?” 

You raced after him and uncomfortably grabbed him up with a gut full of food, Spencer trailing behind you awkwardly. 

“You’re here now!” Sebastian argued, laughter in his voice. 

“Here, go with your-” 

You abruptly cut yourself off, stopping yourself from saying ‘go with your dad’. 

“Go back to the table with Spencer.” You told him, turning him around and directing him toward the man. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, knowing that he could predict exactly what that verbal near-slip was. “I will answer the door.” 

“Come on, bud.” Spencer encouraged him. “If you finish up all your dinner, we can have a treat later,” 

He hated to promise something you hadn’t permissed, but he knew that you needed the distraction right now. 

You unlocked the door and opened it, fully expecting JJ to be standing there patiently (likely having heard that entire exchange from behind the door). You were surprised when nobody was there, and instead, your eyes drifted downwards to a large brown envelope sitting on the step. 

It didn’t seem to have any kind of shipping label on it - just your first name written on the front in bright red ink. It made you startlingly curious, at the same time, caused a tight knot to form in your gut. You picked it up, bringing it inside before you closed the door and locked it again. 

You brought it back to the kitchen and placed it on the kitchen island, and of course, this caught Spencer’s attention where he could see you from his place at the table. 

“Y/N, what is that?” He asked, unable to mask the frantic worry popping up in his voice. 

“I don’t know.” You said, feeling slightly haunted by it yourself. 

You moved to open the envelope, and before Spencer could stop you, something echoing in the back of his mind - chirps about potential poison or even a bomb - you had ripped it open and spilled the contents onto the counter. 

Your insides quaked when you saw what it was. 

Spencer rushed over to look at the items with you, and naturally, this drew Sebastian’s attention as well. 

“What is it, Mommy?” He asked, marching over and trying to get a peek over the edge of the counter, but not yet tall enough to see - which you were thankful for. 

“Did you finish all your dinner?” You asked, leaning over to look at him. 

“I did!” He said proudly, nodding. 

“Okay, then, why don’t you go into the pantry and pick a cookie?” You said, hoping that your sudden flood of worry and fear didn’t quake through your voice as you forced a smile for him. 

“Okay!” He cheered brightly. 

He ran off to the large cupboard beside the kitchen table, eager to pick between the varieties of cookies that you had there. 

(Again, he was smart - but easily distracted. That you were thankful for.) 

“Y/N-” Spencer gasped when he saw the items that had come out of the envelope. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” You said, your voice now quivering with tears you found yourself unable to hold back. “I don’t wanna hear about how you were right.” 

You stared down at the items in horror. 

It was several photos of you; very voyeuristic shots of you going about your daily life. Several of them including Sebastian when you had been doing perfectly innocent things - going shopping, playing at the park. Even pictures of the two of you playing in your own backyard. A view of you getting dressed through your bedroom window. 

One of the photos - a photo of nothing more than the front door to your home - had a message scribbled across it in bright red marker. 

‘Daddy misses you. Be home soon. xoxo’  

“That’s not what I was going to say.” Spencer sighed. 

He saw how horribly you were shaking - he saw the tears brimming your eyes. This time, he truly couldn’t help himself. He stepped around the counter, and upon instinct, he swept you into a tight hug. 

Unconsciously, he caged you away from any potential danger with his arms around your shoulders - holding you like he would have when you had a nightmare or when you shied away from men you considered ‘creepy’ on the subway. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your fingers digging into his back for comfort, clinging to him like you would have clung to a life raft at sea. 

You broke into sobs, the sound muffled by his chest, and Spencer’s own heart stung - knowing that the true depth of the danger had finally hit you. 

“It’s okay.” He told you. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

He rubbed a flat palm across your back, hoping to comfort you in some way, even though he knew that the terror of the whole situation was mounting - and it was a horrible thing to face. 

“Spencer-” You sobbed out, unsure what you even wanted to say. 

“I’m going to make sure it’s okay.” He said firmly. “You know I won’t let anyone hurt you, right?” 

It wasn’t even a question in your mind. The two of you had your problems back in the day, but you knew that Spencer would never let any harm come to you. 

You clung tighter to him, savoring the moments while Sebastian was still distracted - likely sneaking more than the singular cookie you had allotted him to have, not that you cared in the slightest right now. 

If there was anything else on your mind aside from the potentially crippling fear as the realization truly hit you, any room past the fact that you had been stalked and secretly surveilled by a murderer for weeks now; then you might have considered the fact that when you had woken up this morning, you never would have never thought that Spencer Reid, of all people, would be such a comforting touch to you. 

Oh, how things change. 

…

Spencer was hesitant to let you go from the hug. 

But he had to call the team, because this was an important break in the case. And he had to see what kinds of arrangements they could make for you - if they could find a safehouse for you on such short notice, or if he would be taking you to the field office or the police station. 

You cleaned the cookie crumbs off Sebastian and took him to the living room, trying to maintain some sense of calm while you turned on a random cartoon show on cable. He got out a puzzle and you helped him with it while Spencer stepped into the other room and dialed Morgan’s number. 

“Hey, Reid.” Morgan greeted him. “How’s married life treating you?” 

“Not funny.” Spencer replied, his voice short and frustrated. “The UnSub just delivered another package here. More photos. And a message. ‘Be home soon’. It’s pretty clear that he’s planning on making his move soon.” 

“Woah.” Morgan replied. “Well, if Y/N didn’t want protective custody before, then I’m assuming that scared her into complying.” 

“Yeah.” Reid agreed. “Where should I bring her?” 

“Hold on.” 

There were some voices clustered on the other end, and then, the next person to speak on the phone was Hotch. 

“Reid… you’re not going to like what I have to say.” 

“What is it?” Spencer prodded. 

“Morgan and Prentiss got nothing at the library. So far, the only thing we’ve got on this UnSub is the fact that Y/N is likely his next victim, and he doesn’t seem eager to break pattern just because you’re in the house.” 

Spencer didn’t like where this was going. 

“You’re not insisting-?” He asked, and Hotch filled in the blank for him. 

“Our only chance to catch him could be… catching him in the act. We could tie him to the other crimes if we catch him breaking into the house-” 

“The house that my son is currently in.” Spencer huffed. 

“We could bring the boy into protective custody. And leave Y/N there. We know that he never hurts the children, that’s not part of his MO.” Hotch offered meekly. 

“But he gets some kind of catharsis from playing house.” Spencer replied. “If we move Sebastian, that might cause him to break pattern, and he could just move onto another victim.” 

Then, something else occurred to Spencer. 

“Also, we don’t know how he’s surveilling us.” He added on. “If he sees where we’re moving Sebastian, he might go after him.” 

He considered that another woman - someone completely unsuspecting, someone unprepared, someone innocent with no way to defend herself - would be killed if Spencer made the wrong choice. It could be more than one woman if the UnSub got away and simply continued his patterns uninterrupted. 

This was more controlled. The UnSub seemed determined to confront Spencer. 

Spencer felt that was a confrontation he could win. 

“We can have unmarked cars posted on every block. And the minute he breaches the house, you call it in. He won’t get anywhere near them.” 

Spencer hated that it was their only choice. 

“Okay.”

...

Keep reading here: Chapter Five - Brick By Boring Brick

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.

I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?

Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.

There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).

Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.

It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?

Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.

But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.

It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.

And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.

I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.

#tb answers #hazbin hotel #character design

[rafescurtainbangz]

My Favorite Dealer - JJ Maybank One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

Dealer Sub!JJ x Female KookPrincess!Reader (Rafe Cameron's Sister)

4K

A little JJ smut for my wifey and bestie @imyourdaninow Happy Anniversary, bb!!!!!!!!!

Rafe's sister really likes JJ and decides she's ready to make a move. This JJ is sweet, like sticky sweet so forewarning if that's not your thing.

Tags: @imyourdaninow @floredaqueen @romaescapes @gri959 @redhead1180

Taglist: link

OBX Master list: link

Warning: SMUT, language, swearing, drug usage

Sub!JJ, Soft!dom Reader, unprotected p in v, shotgun kissing, fingering, oral (male receiving), oral (female receiving), BDJ (Big Dick JJ), nipple play, heavy praise, pet names, and nicknames, reader has nipple piercings; first time together not first time

Y/N Cameron's POV:

Shit.

A smile slips your lips, butterflies filling your stomach as you look down at your phone. My favorite drug dealer, JJ Maybank.

It's just a little pot... enough to take the edge off. But then, there's the late-night calls, when I'm feeling anxious; when I'm missing him. He's funny, sweet, sexy. Fuck me. Today, I'm going to do it... Make a move, take a chance. Sure, we flirt, but I want more. I want him.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

The sound sends chills down your spine as you hear a little rap on the window. "One second, J!

"No problem, y/n."

Grabbing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, you tug them on, slicking on some lipstick, and spritzing a little perfume as well. Here goes nothing. You walk toward the window, heart pounding in your chest. His shadow shifts along the drawn curtain, making you smile even brighter.

"Y/n," he grins. "How ya doing, darlin'?" His beautiful blue eyes meet yours as you tug open the window.

"Great. Thank you. And thanks for coming on such short notice. Ya know you can just come through the front door." He cocks his eyebrow at you, holding short a laugh. "Ugh, don't worry. Rafe's all bark, Jayj."

"For sure," he breathes.

"You two still-"

"Not besties?" He interjects. "Nah... Not big fans of each other, princess."

"Well, m'sorry. I can talk to him if you'd like." He shakes his head no, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "It's all good. Don't worry 'bout that, sweetheart. Umm... Can I come in?"

"Please." You draw back the curtain a little more. JJ steps in, glancing around the room.

"Shit... This is-"

"Excessive?" You sigh, making him expel an uneasy laugh. "Ward wouldn't have it any other way. You've never been in my room before. Have you?"

"Nah... You usually meet me on the roof," he hums, distracted by the childhood pictures on your wall. "Oh shit. Is Midsummers tonight?" JJ nods over to your slinky white dress in the corner.

Damn, he looks good... A well-loved t-shirt and tattered blue jeans stuffed into some work boots, blonde hair messy under his red backward hat. Your eyes meet JJ's, making his cheeks blush. "Umm... It's Midsummers tonight. Yeah?" He softens his tone, asking again.

"Oh shit," you giggle, catching yourself preoccupied. "Do you wanna come, J?"

"Where?" He lifts his eyebrow again, unable to compute what you're clearly asking him.

"To Midsummers? No pressure." His eyes double in surprise. "Be my date?"

"You want me to be your date?"

"If you'd like... I mean it's short notice; but-"

"I'd love that, y/n. I mean... I might not make it through the door. Think I'm banned for life," he blurts.

"Banned for life?" You chuckle, shooting him a look.

"M'trouble. Apparently."

You smile as you step a little closer, taking a seat on your desk across from him. "Can't imagine that," you flirt, leaning in a little more. You flutter your lashes, causing that same blush to creep across his already sun-kissed cheeks.

"Wow.... Shit. I just got really fucking nervous. Thanks for that," JJ smiles, readjusting his hat anxiously. "I truthfully have nothin' to wear."

"We can just steal something from Rafe's closet. It'll piss him off if that makes it more appealing to you."

"It does," he chuckles, dimples popping with his wide smile. He draws his backpack off his back, rooting through his stash. "So, what would you like, y/n?"

"Whatever you think I'd like best."

"Sherbert Queen it is," he rasps as he tugs at the zipper of his backpack. He thumbs through his cache, retrieving the product; setting it on the desk.

"Alright, y/n. Anything else?"

Shit… This is when he usually leaves. Just fuckin’ do it. C’mon… "Oh. Umm... No."

"Are you okay, y/n," he questions earnestly; eyes lightening on yours as you fumble over your words.

"M’perfect, Jayj. What do I owe you?"

"Nothin'... Are you kiddin' me? You just asked me out. Which I didn't know was an option, or I woulda done it first, by the way," he cheeses. "I'm not chargin' you for shit, princess." Your cheeks burn from your smile; eye, casting away as you try to build up your confidence.

Do it.

"I feel like I owe you something, Jayj." The words drip off your lips.

"No, y/n. It's on the house. Truly."

"You sure?" You hum. "I can give you whatever you want." Your eyes trail up his frame. JJ's eyes widen, darting around before meeting yours again.

"Are you askin' me what I think you're askin' me?"

"Depends, JJ. What do you want?" You lean in a little closer.

"You. Holy fuck. Are you sure?"

"Positive. Is that okay?"

"More than okay, y/n. Shit." He digs his heel into the ground, cheeks reddening. "So, do you like, like me? Or are we just hooking up? Sorry... W-Wait. Woah. Hey... Ha. Ha. Uh. Don't answer that. M'sorry."

"I like you, JJ," you answer confidently, making him suck in a bit of air.

"I... Uh-"

"Are you sure you're okay?" You soothe.

"You fuckin' with me?" He asks, only half-joking.

"JJ... I like you. Why do you think I keep buyin' pot from you?"

"I don't know. I just thought you liked my shit," he chuckles weakly as his voice cracks.

"I have no problem getting weed, Maybank... I just wanna see you."

His eyelashes flutter, lips drawing to the side. "Well, in that case, I like you too, y/n. Every time you text me... It makes me really, really fuckin' happy. And I think about you a lot. Like a lot, a lot."

"You do?"

"A lot," he repeats himself, sucking his teeth as he notices it. "Also, I'm usually pretty fuckin' cool. I mean, like, I don't usually freak out like this, anyway," he flounders.

You pinch the bottom of your sweatshirt, drawing it over your frame, tossing it away. "Jayj-"

"Oh my god," he huffs, eyes transfixed on your breasts.

"I know how you usually are. Alright? You bein' nervous is only making me like you more. I know you're cool," you razz him, giving his chest a playful shove.

"Uh yeah..." He hums, eyes still zeroed in on your tits. JJ slams his eyes shut, taking a frustrated breath. "I just - Fuck, y/n. You could have any guy at the Island Club. Why are you botherin' with me?"

"'Cause... You're sweet, you're funny, you're hot. It's a long list, Maybank. You want me to go on? I will." He batts his lashes, taking in your praises like you're speaking a foreign language, trying to pick up something he understands. "These guys are dicks, Jayj. Contrary to popular belief I don't really care about that shit. But, I'm sitting here with my shirt off, and you haven't done anything; so, if I'm reading this whole situation wrong and you're just stalling to make me feel better, just let me know-"

JJ moves toward you quickly, stealing the words off your lips as he kisses you for the first time, making everything come to a stop. He tastes sweet, cherry chapstick and kush, making you lightheaded. JJ sucks off your bottom lip nice and slow, making you whimper against his kiss.

"How much time do we have before we gotta go?" He mumbles against your lips

"Not a lot... But, there's always later."

"Later as in tonight?"

"Yeah, Jayj," you breathe against his lips.

"Fuck. I'm dreaming."

"Can I make you feel good, JJ?"

"Jesus Christ," he sighs; you can feel his smile against your lips. "You sure? Can I do anything for you?"

"I hope so ..." You reach up, snagging JJ's hat off slowly, setting it down on the desk as you continue to kiss. JJ works a little quicker, tearing himself out of his white shirt, his excitement making you swoon. He grabs your waist in his strong hands, lifting you off the desk.

Your fingers loop around the elastic band of your sweatpants. JJ watches you intently as you slip the material over your curves, revealing more and more skin. He dives for your lips again, kicking off his boots between kisses as you unfasten the button of his jeans. "Can I?" You smile, tugging at the denim.

"You can do anything you want to me, y/n," he pants. Your plump lips move to his jaw, a little further to his neck, leaving a trail of light pink lipstick in your wake.

JJ chuckles delightedly as his eyes follow the markings, lowering with you, watching you as you drop to your knees. "Are you gonna - Oh. Oh, s-shit. You are," JJ pants, like he's finally puzzled together as to why you're on your knees.

Damn, he's huge. His black briefs leave nothing to the imagination; the print of his hardened length, pitched against the fabric, precum wetting the cotton. "Y/n, I don't know..."

You stop quickly, pulling your hands away as you look at his doubtful eyes. "JJ... I'm sorry. Shit. I just - I got a little carried away. M'sorry if I'm rush-"

"You're not!" He croaks out; his voice is hoarse and breathless. "I just can't believe you wanna do this."

Your hands meet his body again, resting on his bare thighs as you look up at him with doe eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. "I really, really want to, JJ.”

"Yeah?"

"Jayj... I took off my shirt, I took off my pants, I'm on my knees; I'm fucking wet for you-”

"Wait - Really?" He questions. You chuckle and shake your head, burying your face in your palm. "Y/n, I swear I'm usually-"

"Cool, J. You are... I know. And I'm not teasing you. I can't help but laugh… You're just so fuckin' sweet. Let me suck your cock. Alright? I'm begging you," you smile.

"Well, I'm not gonna stop you, princess," he sighs blissfully.

"Thank you... Now, just relax, Jayj," you whisper as you curl your fingers around the elastic of his boxers, tugging them to his feet. "Holy shit," you breathe as you take in his size, his long, thick cock achingly stiff. You find yourself getting a little nervous yourself; JJ's dick is by far the biggest you've ever had, bigger than any toy you own. He looks down at you, a new hunger in his eyes.

Slipping your fingers under your bra straps, you slide them off your shoulders, looking at JJ through your lashes again. You draw your hands up to your cleavage, delicately drawing them over the top. Reaching your nipples, you trace small circles over the fabric."You're so beautiful, y/n," he praises; pupils blow with lust.

"So are you." You lean in, kitten-licking the precum off his head, making him shudder out a breath. He slams his eyes shut, mumbling to himself to 'chill the fuck out.'

Taking his cock in your hand, you pump slowly, your eyes on his. Your other hand massages your breast. "You're so big," you breathe as you slip your fingers under the lace of your bra slowly, toying with your nipple.

His lashes flutter, surprised to see silver sparkly jewelry. "Is that... Do you have your... I-" JJ's voice trails off, mesmerized, watching you play with the both of you at the same time. His eyes drift slowly between his thick cock and you. "Y/n. Oh my god," he groans.

Your hand retreats, moving to your back, unclasping your bra with a single hand. You let it fall forward, resulting in a downright pornographic moan from JJ as your breasts spill out, making you bite back a giggle.

You continue to touch your chest as you stroke his cock; pressing your cleavage together, pinching your nipples. JJ's breathing increases with each passing second as he watches you.

He shifts his stance when you drop both hands, nearing his shaft. JJ groans when your tongue hits his warm skin again. You draw your mouth from the base of his length to his fat cockhead, your eyes burning into his.

His breath catches in his chest as you brush your tongue from side to side on his tip; JJ looking at you through hooded eyes, trying his best to keep them open. "Y/n... So good. F-Fuck," he stammers.

Wrapping your lips around his cock you take him to the back of your throat, drawing off slowly, squeezing your lips, leaving little lipstick rings behind. "You're so - Fuck me. You're so gorgeous," he sighs, eyeing the mess.

You bob back and forth slowly and sloppily, using your hand to stroke where your mouth won't reach. Your other hand gropes his skin, tracing up his tanned body. Hollowing your cheeks, causing JJ's abs to flex under your touch as you increase your suction. You can tell he's about to lose control.

Drawing off slowly, you wrap your fingers around his cock, stroking quickly. Your breasts bounce with each thrust of the hand. "Fuck, sweetness. You look too damn good. S-Shit. I'm gonna cum," he whines.

"Yeah?" You groan. "You gonna cum for me, Jayj?"

"Mmm-ph, fuck. Yes." You return your lips to JJ's shaft, sucking his head, then dropping low, gagging when you take as much of him as you can. His brows knit tight. You feel his cock twitch on your tongue as little rivers of mascara run down your cheeks. "Y/n. Ugh... Shit," he moans, huskily.

You draw him out of your mouth, pumping rapidly. JJ's mouth falls agape, his chest rising and falling as he cums hard on your chest and tongue, ropes of pearlescent white landing on your soft skin as he paints your chest.

JJ watches carefully as you milk out the last bits of pleasure. You draw two fingers through his sticky spent, sucking them clean. "I'm dreaming... I am. Fuck me," he groans. His eyes fall shut as he lets out a satisfied sigh; a wide smile settles on his lips as he tilts his head up to the ceiling, hands covering his face.

JJ reaches for you, taking you in his arms. "Goddamn... You're really, really good at that, y/n Cameron," he pants through a chuckle, cleaning your chest with a tissue from your desk. He tries his best not to fixate on your piercings. His fingers still find a way to brush over the top, watching as they harden. "Did I tell you you're beautiful, y/n? You're so fucking pretty..."

"You did," you giggle, running your fingers through his fluffy blonde hair.

"And, you want me to do stuff to you?" He asks hopefully.

"I need it, Jayj."

He smiles widely, taking you into his arms. "All I can think about is how good you're going to taste, y/n," JJ groans. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your chest into his. He walks over to the bed, setting you on top. Curling your thighs in his arms as he pulls your warmth to his face. JJ licks the length of your pussy, causing you to arch your back, JJ chuckling sinfully. The breath of his laugh on your wetness sends chills across your skin.

His tongue works slowly through your folds, mumbling and humming as he takes in your taste. His rough hands grope your inner thighs and ass, using his hold to bury himself deep. JJ quickly locks onto your clit; sucking and flicking. "Fucking hell, JJ," you moan. He plunges in a finger, then two, working them in tandem with his mouth. He kept his ring on... You can feel the added friction, the chill of the metal as it glides in and out of your cunt.

Adding a slight curl, he finds your g-spot, making your mouth shift to a soft "o." "Like that. Huh?" He mumbles.

"Right there, J," you whimper, bringing your hands down to his hair, pulling it; drawing him closer to you as you feel yourself right on the edge. "Feels so good."

He adds a third finger, quickly brushing his tongue from side to side, sealing the deal. You cry out in pleasure, knees pressing into JJ's muscular shoulder as your orgasm washes over you. He kisses your inner thighs as he continues to pump his fingers quickly.

Your eyes drift open slowly as your body relaxes; JJ looking at you sweetly. "Fuck. That was beautiful, y/n," he whispers.

"Shit," you pant. "You're very good at that, JJ Maybank," you sigh, echoing his words through a blissed-out smile. JJ kisses you slowly, fingers raking through your hair as he rolls his hips, doing everything but slipping his stiff cock inside. He catches himself getting too caught up in the moment, stifling himself in the crook of your neck instead, breathing in your sweet perfume.

"You smell so damn good," he hums. "You taste fucking sweet, and you look like heaven. S'not fair."

"Thank you," you whisper as you kiss his face. Your hand cups his cheek, brushing it gently with your thumb as his baby blues fall to your lips. "That was amazing. JJ."

"Thanks, princess... Do you want to have - Shit. Umm... Alright. Do you need anythin' else? I can throw in some other shit for you; Blueberry, Violet, Banana Jelly." There's no mistaking his tone this time. He wants more. He was about to ask for it himself.

You wet your bottom lip, making his mouth part. "Got some - I… Shit. I brought some of that Bubble Kush you like," he stumbles through a string of jumbled words, too distracted with how beautiful you look under him, tucked in his arms.

A smile twists on your face as you take a better look at him, catching the rolled joint behind his ear. "Why don't we smoke a little?" You ask, plucking it out, resting it between your fingers.

"You're my dream girl, y/n. You know that. Right?" He whispers through a sweet smile.

The two of you crawl to the headboard, JJ snagging your lighter off the nightstand. You scoot a little closer as JJ blazes up, taking the first hit. He pinches the joint between his lips, grabbing for you, towing you closer as he puffs again, passing it to you. You straddle him, feeling his cock, hard between your thighs.

"Wow," he breathes, his large hands holding the small of your waist, drifting around to your bum before gripping it tightly. You cast your smoke up to the ceiling. His fingers dig into your ass, lips latching onto your nipple. He swirls his tongue, flicking it across your hardened flesh.

"Holy shit," you whimper.

"Mmm... The Kook Princess has nipple piercings. Huh?" He mumbles drunkenly as he cups your tits. "Ya know, I dream about this shit, y/n," he drawls. “I wasn't kiddin’.”

"You do," you smile in reply as you rest your hands on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat.

"This is so much better," he rasps.

"I do too."

"You do?"

"'Thought about you last night. And when I woke up in the morning. I've been plannin' this all day, Jayj."

He leans in, kissing you tenderly. "Been thinkin’ about you all day, too, princess."

JJ's tongue slips between your lips, rolling slowly with yours. "Promise you'll come over tonight?"

"You're not gettin' away from me, baby girl." You chuckle warmly against his lips, feeling a smile stretch on his as you hear the first bits of confidence in his voice. "You ready, doll?"

"Ready, J." JJ takes a haul off the joint, quickly bringing his lips to yours. He exhales while you inhale, his lips even sweeter than before. You wrap your fingers around his cock, pumping slowly, feeling yourself throb.

He takes another hit, bringing his lips to yours, hovering as he exhales. You breathe him in; smoke circles in your lungs. JJ watches as you stroke, letting out a soft groan when you run your fingers through your pussy, working your wetness onto his shaft.

You take the joint off his hands, placing it between your lips as JJ slides his hands up your thigh, inching closer. You take a rip of your own. Leaning into him, you blow out your smoke as he inhales, his rough finger toying with your entrance."You're so fucking wet," he mumbles against your lips before stuffing his fingers deep.

You close your eyes softly, tipping your head back as he starts to work on you again. "Holy shit," you whine as you draw the joint to your lips for one last hit. You lace your hand around the back of his neck, pressing your lips and chest against him, exhaling the shot as his fingers rub little circles on your clit.

You stub out the joint before giving him your full focus again. He sits there waiting, hoping you'll ask the question you both want to hear. "Can you fuck me, JJ?"

A wide smile stretches across his lips, his half-lidded eyes sparkling on yours. "I can't believe you just said that, princess. Say it again."

"Can you fuck me, JJ Maybank?"

"Please." He leans in nice and slow, teasing you this time as his lips hover close. His mouth presses against yours, hands wrapped around the back of your neck as he lowers the both of you to the mattress, rolling himself on top.

The kiss deepens fast, the two of you breathing rapidly. You moan onto his lips as his body weight presses you into your soft bed.

You grip his dick in your hands, guiding him closer, swirling his head through your soaked slit. Your thighs jolt as you massage your sensitive bud.

"Please," you whisper. JJ's eyes soften on yours; already on cloud 9, your delicate, sweet voice begging for him is almost too much.

JJ's lips meet yours again, swallowing your moan as he thrusts deeply, bottoming you out, pain and pleasure creating an absolutely euphoric mixture as he fills you fully. "Fuck," you mewl, pressing your hands gently against his hips.

"You okay, y/n," he whispers.

"Shit... Yes - Yeah. I'm alright." You breathe as his cock stretches you entirely. He hasn't even moved, and you can already feel his tip rested against your sweet spot.

You grab his ass, clawing your fingers into the plush of his skin, guiding him to stroke. JJ starts to rock in and out, letting you adjust to his length. "Harder, JJ. I can take it," you assure. JJ's eyes roll back at your request.

“You’re so fucking tight. Jesus Christ,” he whines. He starts to pump into you quickly. His forehead pressed against yours, your lips hovering as he sets a rapid pace; hips, striking skin, clapping through your large room.

You draw your fingers up to his lips; JJ takes them into his mouth, sucking roughly. Bringing them down to your clit, you pleasure yourself as well, rolling your digits fast.

"Shit, y/n," JJ hums. You grab your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest, allowing him to stroke even deeper. Your adrenaline is still running high; your breathing rapid as you feel yourself starting to come undone again, tightening around him.

"Y/n..." JJ stutters. "I - Holy shit. You feel so fucking good. Are you-"

"Almost."

" I won't stop... I promise," he whispers.

"Cum inside me, Jayj."

JJ grits his teeth, slowing down slightly; replacing his fingers with yours to make up for the change in tempo; brushing your clit skillfully.

"Fuck... You can't talk like that, princess," he chides through a smile. "Tryin' not to bust. Alright?" His cock drags in and out. You rest your hand on your tummy, feeling it as well.

You look down, watching JJ's thick dick glistening with your wetness. God, this feels so damn good. I don't want to cum... I don't want this to end. JJ picks up his gait, pumping deep into your core. "M'gonna ride you tonight, Jayj," you moan.

"Y/n... Shh, baby. Please," he shushes you through a breathy laugh; all his muscles wound tight. "You're killin' me, honey-"

"Harder... M'gonna-"

KNOCK. KNOCK.

JJ doesn't stop, knowing you're close. He seals your mouth as shockwaves grip your body, muffled cries of pleasure against his hand. His eyebrows knit, teeth-gritting, throwing his head back as well, doing his best to stay silent. You feel his finish, the muscles in his body spasming as he fills you with his cum.

JJ lowers his lips to you, tongues rolling effortlessly with yours like you'd been together for years; his hands drift into your hair, tugging you closer. "Holy shit," you giggle, breathlessly.

BANG. BANG. BANG. "Y/n?" Rafe calls. "Headin' out in ten. You good?"

"M'good!" You sing, feeling your high catching up with you, doing your best not to giggle.

"Hey. You smokin' in the there?"

"Sorry, dad."

"Ha. Ha. Uh, yeah. Just did a line off the bathroom counter. I don't give two fucks.

"Why don't I just meet you there? Need to take a shower; get this smell off me?" JJ's eyes widen with his smile.

"With me?" He whispers.

"Obviously," you giggle against his lips as he does the same.

"Oh, and Topper asked again if you'll go with him,” Rafe rasps.

“Ew,” JJ winces in disgust, making you laugh.

“Don't be a bitch, y/n. Alright? He likes you. I don't know why.”

“Rude.”

“M’just kiddin’.”

“That was fuckin’ rude. Want me to kick his ass?” JJ whispers, making you roll your eyes and smile.

"Tell him no, Rafey. I have a date.”

JJ brushes your bottom lip with his thumb, smiling at you dreamily, his lips meeting yours one last time. "You sure do, princess."

#jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj x y/n #jj x you #jj x reader #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank smut #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x smut #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x y/n smut #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow #obx smut #outer banks smut one shot

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo dressing up as Santa for his girlfriend, Megumi and Tsumiki

Pairing: Gojo x girlfriend!reader; dad!Gojo x Megumi and Tsumiki

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo expected a lot of things, but not his girlfriend and two rescued kids making fun of him after he put on a Santa costume only for them.

Warnings: fluffness overload, there's absolutely not enough content for the dynamic between Gojo and his kids in the manga so we'll make our own, a little bit of spicy mentions especially in the bonus material so be prepared for cheeky Gojo

„I thought I told you I don’t want you to dress up as Santa in bed, Satoru. How many times do I have to tell you that this doesn’t turn me on at all?”, you moan, eyes roaming all over your beloved boyfriend.

There he stands, wearing a bright red costume, a way too big hat and the worst fake looking beard you have ever seen. What the hell has gotten into him again?

He turns around, sly grin beaming your way. At least that pants seem to fit him pretty well, they really bring out his strong legs and well, that special part between his legs. Huh, maybe it doesn’t look as off-turning as you thought it would…

“For once, I’m not doing this for you. Don’t you ever think about the kids, (y/n)?”, he teases you.

The kids? Does he talk about Megumi and Tsumiki? No, he absolutely can’t. Out of all people, your boyfriend should know best that Megumi will probably leave and never return if he sees Satoru dressed up like this. And Tsumiki? Well, she might not be as harsh as Megumi, but even she will just stare at him bamboozled. Yes, those kids aren’t particularly joyful when it comes to Satoru’s goofy side and everyone knows.

Except for him, apparently.

“The kids will hate you for this”, you clarify, fingers getting stuck in the fake hair of his beard.

He draws you closer, arms wrapping around you tightly while the poor fabric of his costume scratches against your cheek.

“You just can’t accept that they love me more than you. Just watch and see the magic in their eyes.”

A huff escapes your lips, head shaking by itself. Oh, you’ll definitely watch as he makes a fool out of himself in front of the kids. This will be fun.

-later-

“Hey (y/n), where is that freak?”, Megumi greets you, neatly dropping his schoolbag into the same spot as usual.

“Come on, Megumi-chan, don’t call him that”, you softly reply.

“I have no idea, I haven’t seen him since morning.”

“(y/n)!”, Tsumiki cries out and runs into your open arms instantly.

What a sweet girl she is. Despite the fact that both her mother and father are gone, she always wears a wide grin on her face, embracing you in a hug whenever she lays her eyes on you. Megumi on the other hand, just stares at you from afar with his arms crossed in front of his chest. How is it possible for siblings to be this different?

“Why do you talk about him this way, Megumi? Don’t you know we would have never met (y/n) if it wasn’t for him?”, Megumi’s sister reproves him in an instant.

“Huh, you’re right about that”, the petite boy mumbles to himself, eyes set on you.

“Ho ho ho children.”

You blink a few times, the voice behind the closed door being pitched so ridiculously low that your cheeks redden. He told you he’ll surprise the kids today, you should have seen it coming after he tried on that strange suit this morning. But to be honest, you hoped it was just to mess with you, that he was just playing around a little.

Until the door swings open and reveals Satoru Gojo in a Santa costume, wearing his iconic pair of sunglasses.

“You can’t be serious about that”, Megumi mumbles in the corner.

You don’t know what to do. Dying of laughter or dying of embarrassment? By the way he steps into the middle of the room with boots that look way too similar to the ones you just bought a few months ago, you have no time to think about that.

“Since I know (y/n) is always naughty, I’m here to check if at least you kids have been good this year”, he announces.

It’s hard to keep the corners of your mouth from shooting up and to suppress the little giggle that creeps up your throat. But there you stand, smiling like an idiot while shaking your head, watching the priceless drop on Megumi’s cute little face.

“You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

Tsumiki lets go of you, blinking over and over in an attempt to understand what’s going on. Everybody just stands dead still in their tracks, staring at what’s definitely Satoru Gojo in front of them.

“I see, you’re a feisty one, little man. Watch how you speak to someone my age!”

“You’re 18.”

“I AM NOT! LOOK AT MY WHITE BEARD.”

Tsumiki is the first one to break with a squeal, holding onto your body for hold while shaking uncontrollably in laughter.

“This isn’t funny, young lady!”, Satoru’s low voice speaks out harshly.

He sends you over the edge. Your little giggle escalates into loud laughter, making your stomach ache so badly that tears run down your cheeks.

“You look ridiculous. Take that off.”

With a swift motion, Megumi pulls down the fake beard that was set in place by a cheap elastic, exposing the pout of pure outrage on Satoru’s lovely face. Oh, how much you love that man. The man who lost it all last year, the man who cared about those kids he didn’t even knew enough to basically adopt them, the man who does everything to make Megumi’s and Tsumiki’s life as pleasant as possible.

Even if it means dressing up as Santa.

“Huh, how did you get it was me?!”

“Are you kidding? You’re even wearing your sunglasses, idiot.”

“HOW DARE YOU TO CALL YOUR DAD IDIOT, I RAISED YOU-“

“Raised me? You know me since last year!”

“He would never admit it, but I know that he really admires Satoru from deep down”, Tsumiki suddenly hushes into your ear.

You wipe your tears away, observing the scene laying itself out in front of you with a wide smile. It’s not a secret to anyone in this room that life has its ups and downs, that everything is shitty from time to time. But precious moments of joy like this that make even Megumi turn away with an ever so slight grin make you realize what life really is about.

“I think you were quite convincing”, you comment sarcastically.

“You…It was your fault! You told them about my surprise!”, your boyfriend cries out overdramatically.

It takes him not even seconds to be by your side, grabbing you by your waist and tickling your over-sensitive spots he knows so well.

“Stop! I didn’t do anything!”, you shout between multiple giggles, tears of joy streaming down your face all over again.

“B-but…I like that suit better than I thought.”

His hands stop immediately, eyes darkening in an instant.

“Is that so, huh? Maybe I can show it off better in the bedroom.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

“Come on, Megumi. Time to go”, Tsumiki hisses, dragging her brother out of the room by his small hand.

-dirty bonus-

"Tsumiki?", Megumi mumbles muted.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Do you think (y/n) is okay?"

Tsumiki blinks into the darkness around her, trying to understand what her little brother means by his words.

"She definetely was when Satoru dressed up as Santa. Why?"

"When I went to the toilet, I heard her screaming. She even screamed his name. I guess I'm just a little...worried. Do you think we should go check-"

"NO", Tsumiki interrupts him immediately, her face heating up in an instant.

Oh god.

"Absolutely not. Just stay here and try to sleep."

"But what if-"

"NO. And never tell me about something like this again!"

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo saturo #jjk funny #jjk comfort #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo #daddy gojo #gojo being the best dad ever #gojo jjk #satoru x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #fushiguro #fushiguro tsumiki #jjk tsumiki #jjk siblings

[perlelune]

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | ii.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The party’s already in full swing when you arrive at the OKB house. While getting ready, you lost track of time. Putting the finishing touches on your hair and nails took longer than you planned. 

You dodge the bodies swaying to the loud music to make your way to your friends through the swirling blue lights. 

Mindy spots you right away and waves at you. 

"Not bad, freshman," she praises as you twirl in front of her and Mindy to show off your nurse costume decorated with splashes of fake blood.  

They’re both sprawled on the couch, limbs twined. Expectedly, only Anika made the effort to don anything resembling a costume, a pumpkin-colored hat with a bloody knife poking out of it sitting atop her head. 

Mindy even bothering to come considering what happened the last time she attended a frat party is already a huge effort on her part. 

You chat for some time, sharing the latest news regarding your friends. 

 You learn that apparently Tara got into it with her sister…again.

A lot of tension has built between the two of them lately, Sam’s protectiveness clashing with Tara’s craving for independence. 

Maybe Sam’s been overdoing…but who can blame her?

Those two have been through hell and back. 

"Have you guys seen Connor?" 

While you attempt to sound casual, even tossing a shrug, Mindy sees right through you and flashes you a teasing grin. 

"One-track minded, huh?"

Your face warms. "Sorry, I just…I really looked forward to seeing him."

Anika gives your hand an encouraging squeeze. 

"It’s okay, babe. To be young and in love."

"And horny," Mindy adds, dragging a quick eye over your outfit as her smile broadens. 

Her comment sparks more heat in your cheeks. Sure, things between you and Connor are growing steamier. But you don’t want to rush anything. You like him, and you want your first time to be special, romantic.

"I’ll see you guys later."

"Have fun," Mindy says, waving her beer bottle at you.

Your search resumes and you grow nervous, pondering if Connor is even in attendance. Maybe you missed him. Downsides of running late. 

Damn you and your tendency to spend hours dolling yourself up. 

 As you wander across the room, you nearly crash into a familiar broad, muscular back.

An easy smile creeps on your face when your friend turns to face you. 

"Hi."

"Hey, looking good."

"You too, cowboy."

You’re pretty certain Chad’s never looked bad a day in his life. There’s a reason why he’s the most popular player on the team, and one of the most sought-after guys at Blackmore. Well…several, starting with the fact that his hotness is only matched by his unwavering kindness to everybody he meets. 

You suppose if you hadn’t known him for so long, you’d harbor a crush on him too. But you’re too familiar with Chad to see him in that light. You still recall when he insisted on wearing a Pokemon onesie for nearly a year. You used to watch cartoons with him and Mindy as children, play together. He’s even tried to get you into Magic: The Gathering at some point but you couldn’t understand how the game works so he gave up. He’s like the brother you never had. 

"So I hear you've met Ethan. He's cool, right?" He throws his muscular arm around Ethan’s neck affectionately. "A whole snack he is. Look at him." An endearing tinge of red decorates Ethan’s cheeks, his gaze fleeing yours. 

It draws a smile from you. You’re glad they’re getting along. 

You tilt your head, gauging his appearance. Confusion fills you.

You’re not exactly sure what Ethan’s costume is supposed to be. A knight perhaps? Either way, it’s original and it suits him.

"Hey again," you greet. 

He lifts two bashful fingers as a response, returning your smile.

"Yeah. I appreciate him helping me out."

Ethan’s chestnut gaze widens at your words. 

College’s busy enough for everyone. It’s incredible of him to offer some of his free time to help you out when it doesn’t benefit him in any way. 

Ethan opens his mouth as if he were about to say something but, before he can speak, someone taps you on the shoulder, beckoning your attention. 

You pivot in your high heels.

Your chest floods with warmth at the sight welcoming you. 

"Hey, gorgeous," Connor hums, giving you an appreciative onceover that turns your legs into jelly. His voice lowers as he approaches you. "I’ve been looking for you all night. Where have you been?"

Your heart skips a beat at his closeness, the scent of his masculine cologne and his mesmerizing blue eyes overwhelming you. 

"Just ran a bit late," you mumble. 

His hooded gaze takes you in as he suggests, "Well, you’re here now. Wanna go hang out in my car?"

Pursing your mouth, you hesitate. 

"I…I don’t know. Is that safe? Mindy says it’s always best to stay in crowded-"

He halts your explanation with a hand under your chin. Bewildered, you gawk at him. 

His pearly whites shimmer in the dusky blue and green hues saturating the room. 

"Do you trust me, gorgeous?"

You blink up at him, dazed and lost in the sea of his gaze. 

"Y-Yes, I do."

"I’ll keep you safe. I promise. Come on."

His hand engulfs yours as Connor begins to drag you toward the exit.

Chad’s deep, concerned voice interrupts the abrupt getaway. 

"Are you sure?" His forehead creases as he inches closer. "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. You know that, right?" 

At first, you’re a bit confused. 

Then you remind yourself he’s just being protective. Both he and Mindy share that trait. In fact, her attentive eyes carve a searing dent in your skin from the other side of the room. 

Usually, you adore that about them, how caring they are. But right now, you find it a bit much. 

Connor isn’t a threat. He’s just the guy you like, not a serial killer. 

You place a placating hand on Chad’s arm. 

"It’s fine. I trust him. Catch you later, okay?"

He gives a belated nod, his jaw clenching as he stares Connor down, before letting you walk away. 

You wave Ethan goodbye but are somewhat dejected when he stares at you and doesn’t reply, his blank expression unreadable.

Both you and Connor step outside. 

Moonlight bathes the damp pavement in silvery light as you trail behind him. 

He wastes no time once you’ve reached his expensive sports car, pinning you against the hood and kissing you senseless. 

"Fuck, been dying to do this ever since I saw you in that slutty costume," he purrs against your temple. His hands begin to roam over you, impatient fingers fondling your curves. 

When he sneaks under your short dress and tugs at the waistband of your panties, you push against his chest. 

A sudden tide of discomfort swells inside you. 

"Connor…wait. This is going a little fast for me," you giggle.

Ignoring your protests, he keeps kissing you and even turns things up a notch by grabbing a fistful of your ass. You gasp. 

"Just relax. I won’t hurt you, gorgeous."

His weight presses against you, a sizzling cage of need you can’t escape. Tears prick at your eyes. 

"Connor, please…" you whimper.

Annoyance ripples in his tone as the grip on your rear gets firmer. 

"How you’re gonna be a fucking cocktease then give me blue balls, come on, gorgeous."

His tone is light but your chest is heavy. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You hoped Connor would be gentle and nice. 

This isn’t nice. 

And you’re starting to feel a little scared. As the taut bulge in his crotch rubs at your front, your stomach knots.

But things don’t get to wander any further.

In fact, they hit a sudden stop as Connor stills against you. Your brows knit. 

As he chokes on his own breath, blood gushes from his mouth, painting the front of your costume crimson. 

Your eyes widen as his head lolls before he slumps to the pavement with a heavy thud. 

Time stands still when your gaze lifts. 

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

A tall figure clad in black and donning a Ghostface mask is now standing before you.

The blood rushing in your veins makes your ears ring.

The stranger cocks his head, studying you for a few seconds before pouncing on Connor’s prone form like a starved hyena. 

Horror-struck, you gawk as the stranger rains vicious stab after vicious stab upon Connor's writhing body. Each strike draws a shudder from you, more violent than the last and causing scarlet rivers to flow from every part of Connor. 

The world becomes red. 

A scream bubbles in your throat but remains trapped in it, shock striking you mute. 

When Connor's body stops moving, the sickening squish of the blade twisting out of his mangled flesh reaches you. 

With the knife in his hand still dripping blood, its crimson hue catching the moonlight, the killer rises to his feet. 

His focus travels to you. Your insides coil, deadly anticipation gripping you as tight as a fist. 

A gravelly, distorted voice rises beneath the mask. 

"This is the part where you run, princess."

Right…

It’s what happens in those horror movies Mindy had you watch with her, you think. The characters run away, fighting whatever’s chasing them with all their might. 

It’s the sensible thing to do. 

And you want to move. You should move. But you can't. 

Even breathing is toilsome, stilted whimpers and gasps spilling from your chest instead. 

All you can do is peer into the pupil-less gaze of the mask as you crumble into a quivering, sobbing heap onto the pavement. 

The killer inches closer and it's as if your heart jumps out of your chest. 

His blade kisses the trembling flesh of your throat, right above your racing pulse. 

Languid tears roll down your face as he traces your jugular. 

Cool metal slices past your collarbone, to your rapidly heaving chest. 

The song of the night yields to the symphony of fear echoing in your ears. Every scattered heartbeat. Every uneven breath. Every desperate sob.

A sharp stinging blooms in your delicate flesh as he carves oblong patterns on your breast with his knife. 

His motions are slow and focused, as if your skin’s the canvas and his blade the brush. 

Paralyzed, you don’t move. His cloaked figure bends and blurs in your misty vision, more monster than man in the scarce light provided by the street lamps.

He slants his head when he’s done, admiring his handiwork. 

This must be it, you infer, the moment all of it ends. 

Your eyes quake shut as you wait for the inevitable blow. 

You wait… An eternity it seems. 

For the blood. For the agony. For the darkness. 

Yet nothing comes. 

When you open your eyes, Ghostface is gone, the only nightmarish vision before you being that of Connor's body lying unmoving on the pavement. 

You pay no attention to the chaos around you as you pull the thin blanket closer to your frame.

The lights of the ambulance twinkle in your hazy sight. 

Amidst the chatter of shocked students standing in the street behind the yellow tape, the whispers of reassurance of Mindy and Tara fade to white noise in your ears. 

Numb, you gawk as they drag Connor’s body away on a gurney.

For some silly reason, you keep expecting him to rise again, to not be dead.

Because this cannot be real.

This cannot have happened. 

The police ask you a barrage of questions and you give mechanical answers. None of them help and they grow frustrated with you, sparking a heated argument between your friends and the stubborn cop. 

"I’m just doing my job," he insists, raising his hands when Chad gets in his face.

If it weren’t for Detective Bailey vouching for you, you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t be sitting in the back of a patrol car right now. 

"Can’t you see the kid’s traumatized. She doesn’t know anything," he berates one his co-worker who seemed unwilling to accept your version of events. 

The one where you froze and Ghostface somehow let you live with only a strangely shaped scar on your chest as a souvenir. The one the medic commented looked a little like a heart. 

Absently, you pat the gauze covering the healing wound. 

It's weird…but it hurts your head to ponder why this occurred. The only emotion you can process is the crippling guilt consuming you. 

You’re alive while Connor's cold body is on its way to the morgue.

Your friends gather around you, their warmth chasing away the night’s chill. While Tara and Mindy sit next to you on the pavement, Chad stands protectively in front of you. 

"I-I didn’t do anything, Tara. I just let him…" Your voice cracks, withering into a sob. 

The arm around your shoulder gets tighter.

"Hey, don’t talk like that. It’s not your fault," she feverishly responds.

You open your mouth to argue but close it once it dawns on you that all the energy’s been drained from your body. There is none left in you.

Still, you can’t help but disagree. If it were Tara, her sister, or even Mindy, you bet they’d have fought tooth and nail instead of shrinking and crying like you did. 

You’re the weak link in your group. Not smart enough, or strong enough. 

The thought makes you sob harder. 

Mindy rubs circles on your back. 

You cast a quick glance around before your tearful gaze finds hers. 

"Where’s Anika?"

"She went home. She’s not great with blood. She sends her love though."

You nod at that. If you could, you’d be home too, hugging your stuffed bear and trying your best to forget this awful night ever happened. 

Chad’s irate tone startles you out of your fog. 

"Speaking of people not being here… where the hell is Ethan?" 

You blink up at him, confused as he and Mindy trade a pointed, heavy look.

You don’t get it. 

Sure, Ethan’s new to the group, and the twins are slow to give their trust. You know that. But Ethan? He’s entirely too sweet and kind to have anything to do with this…Right?

Ethan wouldn’t. You’re sure of it. 

~

#ethan landry #dark!ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x bimbo!reader #ethan landry x you #scream 6 #scream vi #scream

[cowboyfromh3ll]

ever since your sex hcs included arthur and strength kink and getting lifted effortlessly i need More… part 2 of sorts of arthur sex hcs pretty please how rough he is his hidden kinks and things he wants to do to you how he likes to go down on you all of it 🙏🏻 he is a giver and i want to be tossed around by him very badly

Arthur Morgan NSFW HC

I didn't proofread this

Warnings: smut, size kink, strength kink, breeding kink

Depending on how he's feeling for the day his roughness would vary

Overall his touches are very heavy handed and firm

Manhandles you like you're a weightless toy

One minute you're getting pounded the next you've been flipped into a completely new position

Picks you up by your wrists and drags you across the bed or into a new position

Grabs your ankles and pulls you towards him

Or grabs your waist and moves you around like that. He especially loves doing this when you're riding him

Gives you absolutely no warnings either so you're just swept up

Wouldn't want to tie you up, instead opting towards using his sheer strength to hold you down or in place

I think for a more hidden or lowkey kink he has he'd have a breeding kink

Wouldn't indulge in it until the two of you have actual talks of having a family together

He probably also discovered for himself just how much he liked doing it

Dreams of having his own family one day and the thought of finishing inside you and you having his children gives him goosebumps

Constantly finishes inside you, it's a regular practice during sex

Even if you do fall pregnant he'll continue to do so

Watches himself go in and out of you after cumming inside you and just revels in the sight of copious amounts of cum being pumped into you

Like you said, he's a giver

He takes his time with it and everything, traces open mouthed kisses up to your inner thighs before tracing them back down again

Removes your underwear with his teeth, he knows things are about to get wicked

Kisses and breaths on your pussy, blowing on it and drawing it out before finally giving in

He's really skilled but he isn't the most messy eater, slow but passionate

Literally buries his nose into you and shoves his face in, even let's you grab his hair and push him in

Like Cardi B said, swipes his nose like a credit card

Lots of fingering while he's sucking on you, maybe he'll even slide s pinky into your ass

ALWAYS makes you finish with head too

His beard will be glistening by the time he's done

If you're smaller than him he'll want to see you wearing his clothes while he fucks you

Or if you dress in his clothes and put on his hat and try to act big and bad while domming him

Has a huge thing for you wearing cowboy boots.

Would be a little nervous to introduce weaponry to the bedroom but he'd have fantasies about rubbing his gun on your cunt through the fabric of your underwear

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption community #writing #red dead fanfiction #van der linde gang x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #Arthur morgan smut #Arthur Morgan x reader smut #arthur morgan hc #Arthur Morgan headcannons

[icyharrington]

haii okay this is #82 on the prompt list for steve, requested also by my lovely boothang @wroteclassicaly​ !!

“this is a one time thing.”

contains: daddy kink, blowjobs, deepthroating/face fucking, dirty talk, u suck steve’s dick at work lol

“You’re- fuck- crazy,” Steve Harrington breathes against your mouth as you shove him back into the supply closet of Scoops Ahoy with enough force to knock several cleaning products off of the shelf. He goes to pick them up off the floor, but you stop him in his tracks, yanking him back to you by the front of his dorky uniform. “Fuck. We have to be quick or Robin’s gonna kick my ass.”

“You are so cute when you’re nervous,” you coo, standing on your tiptoes so you can wrap your arms behind his neck. “Especially in your little outfit.”

“Gee, thanks, (y/n)! That totally wasn’t emasculating at all,” he mutters bitterly, before plucking his hat off and flinging it off to the side. “There. Better? Now you can see my hair in all its glory.”

“No, I liked it!” you protest, pouting at him the way you always do when you’re being particularly bratty. “I’ve always wanted to blow you while you’re in your work uniform.”

He scrunches up his face in a mixture of apparent disgust and confusion, which makes you laugh. “Why?”

“I dunno. Why not?” You sink to your knees, unbuckling his belt. He licks his lips as he watches you, the anxiety on his face transforming into something entirely different, but all too familiar.

“I can’t believe you visited me at my job just to do this,” he murmurs, although he doesn’t sound particularly vexed. It sounds more like he’s in awe of your boldness, if anything. “You are so fucking bad.”

“I should visit you here more often,” you think aloud, as your fingers work his shorts down to gather around his ankles. He’s wearing a pair of plain white boxers underneath, which you think look sexy on him despite their plainness, but then again, you literally think he’s sexy in a cheesy sailor costume.

He’s frowning, but it’s obvious that he’s trying very hard to maintain his rule-abiding facade. “No, (y/n). This is a one time thing, okay? I could lose my job.”

You stick your tongue out at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest defiantly. “You’re really going to deprive your girlfriend of two different types of free cream?”  

You say this to make Steve laugh, and it works; he’s shaking his head incredulously, arms lifting to fold behind his head as he grins down at you. “You are such a fucking slut, (y/n). I mean, jeez!”

Reaching into his underwear, you take hold of this gradually strengthening erection, working it back and forth in your fist for a few strokes until he’s fully hard. Steve’s cock is big, and even though you’re well aware of that fact, it’s still such a shock each time you wrap your fingers around his thick length. You love to tease him there, trailing your fingertips up and down the protruding veins that travel through, until he’s swearing lowly under his breath. “Yeah, but you love it, though.”

“Yeah, ya got me there.” He takes a fistful of (h/c) hair as you strip off his boxers, taking him into your mouth without hesitation. “Fuck. You’re my little slut. Can’t get enough of my big dick, can you?”

You attempt to shake your head as you move your head up and down his length, placing your hands on his muscular thighs in order to take him deep, just how he likes. His head lolls back as he lets out a hoarse groan from the back of his throat, bucking his hips against your face until you’re sputtering. “Yeah, I like you like this. It’s the only time you’re not running that bratty-ass mouth.”

Since you’re unable to retort, you shoot a venomous glare in his direction, though you continue to work on his cock with your mouth. He has a firm hold on the back of your head, preventing you from drawing back when he begins to slide his cock further into your narrow throat. “Yeah, good girl. Take all of it.”

He keeps you in place as he shifts himself back and forth, fucking your face at a leisurely tempo; and, like his little whore, you stay kneeling for him, hands folded primly in your lap. It’s a dynamic that you love- you, the devious, mastermind submissive, and Steve, the flustered dominant.

You can’t do much besides bat your eyelashes up at him as he essentially uses your mouth to masturbate, his jaw clenching as he knits his brows in concentration. He’s going so hard that there’s saliva dribbling down your chin and black smudges of mascara ringing your eyes, but you’re too wrapped up in his taste to care how badly he’s wrecking you.

“Fuck- yeah, that’s it. Take it nice and deep for daddy,” he encourages, his breath lodging in his throat for a brief moment. He loosens his grip on your hair, allowing you to regain some control of the situation. You decide to relocate your mouth to his balls for a change in scenery, reveling in his frantic moans as your tongue laps aimlessly at the sensitive skin there. “Fuck, (y/n). That’s my good little slut. You gonna swallow all my cum, baby?”

You nod eagerly, between sloppy strokes of your tongue against him. “You know I will, daddy.”

“Shit…” he mumbles, looping a portion of your hair around his hand and using it to steer you back to your original position. “Open your mouth.”

You do as you’re told, opening wide as he angles his cock over your mouth, pumping himself with his fist until his stomach muscles contract, a telltale sign that he’s about to cum. He manages a breathless, “wider,” before he releases his load into your waiting mouth, his orgasm accompanied by a series of strangled grunts and moans.

Steve is so sexy when he cums, with his plump lips bitten red and forehead slick with afterglow; you watch him adoringly as he rides out his orgasm, mouth falling open to call your name.

You swallow his cum, letting the salty-sweet taste coat your mouth as it slides down your throat. Once it’s gone, you proudly display your empty mouth for Steve to let him know that you’ve done your job.

It takes a moment for him to snap back into reality, his eyes half-lidded and dazed as they scan his surroundings, and then you. He strokes your hair with his massive hands, humming, “that’s my girl.”

He redresses himself as you stand up and retrieve his hat for him, which you find overturned beside the mop bucket. Your knees are sore and will likely be covered in bruises tomorrow, but you don’t mind a few bumps here and there if it means pleasing Steve. “Do you think Robin’s wondering where you are yet?”

“No,” comes a familiar singsong voice from the other side of the closet door, and you and Steve whip your heads to look at each other, eyes wide. Of course Robin had overheard the whole encounter, and had chosen not to say anything until now. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell! As long as you promise to wash your hands before you get back to work, Stevey-poo.”

Robin laughs obnoxiously, and you’re caught between drinking the nearest cleaning chemical or busting into hysterics yourself.

Steve, on the other hand, looks like he wants to die, a pained expression painted across his crimson-flushed cheeks.

“God fucking damn it, (y/n).”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #joe keery #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #mine #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine

[joshhutchersonsgf]

I NEED MIKE SCHMIDT TO DEGRADE ME (a smut)

nsfw | mdni | gn!reader | dom!mike (omg?) | porn with little plot | unprotected sex | choking | degradation | lotssss of dirty talk | pet names (sweetheart, honey, etc.) | no use of y/n

mike’s new job was simple. he only has to worry about two things. all he has to do was keep the place tidy and keep people out.

he hated himself for losing his old job as a security gaurd at the mall because, despite not enjoying have to be in a loud, public space all the time, he grew fond of the people there.

he liked jeremiah. he didn’t get on his nerves the way most people do. talking to him kept him from getting lost in his thoughts, which he liked.

he also grew fond of cindy, the girl who works at the ice cream shop. sand he didn’t want to think of telling any she wouldn’t be able to get ice cream that much anymore, if at all.

mike sighs as he realizes he was trapped in his thoughts again. his mind was something that always kept him entertained for hours, but it also left a lingering pain in his chest when he thinks about what he could have done differently.

mike opens the door of his old, rusty car and stares at the pizzeria across the parking lot. this dump used to be a place for kids to hang out? mike wonders what the old building looked like before it shut down. he imagines he and garrett would have went there when they were kids, or maybe if it was still open to this day, he would have taken abby. he smiles at the thought of abby enjoying the arcade.

mike walks up to the double doors and glances around. he quickly found the security pad and types in the numbers raglan had told him.

a loud click came from the door when he clicks the green button on the security pad. he steps to his left and grabs one of the hands on the metal door, pulling it open.

the door creaks loudly as mike opens the door. he wishes more than anything he could turn around and get in his car, go home and forget any of this ever happened. but deep down he knew he had to do this for abby.

mike steps inside the mostly-unoccupied place and frowns. the room smells stale, and he can practically see the dust in the air. it was a creepy place, and mike wonders what the point is of watching a place no one has been inside in over 20 years.

mike didn’t see a point to a security job here, but he was thankful raglan was kind enough to give him the job. he didn’t like the man, but he was thankful he saw enough potential in him.

mike hears a loud slam from behind him and almost jumps out of his black sneakers.

“what the hell?” mike whisper-shouts, completely caught off gaurd.

mike turns around to see the door he left open now shut. must be an automatic door, mike thinks. he feels silly for getting so scared.

mike looks up at the posters on the walls, torn and scratched along the thin paper. the words read out “freddy fazbear’s pizzeria” at the top.

mike crosses the lobby and looks down the hallway in front of him. the hallway walls are painted in the same red-and-white stripes mike had seen in the lobby. they are also lined with large posters.

these posters, however, weren't pizzeria advertisements. they look like children’s art, similar to abby’s. some of the posters have images of pizzas and playing children. the rest of the posters feature portraits of odd-looking cartoon animals. one of the images was of a brown bear wearing a bow tie and a top hat. there was a bright yellow chick wearing a bib and holding a googly-eyed cupcake, a bluish-purple bunny gripping an electric guitar, and a fox wearing an eye patch and a hook on his hand.

“i should probably just find the office”, mike whispers to himself after examining the drawings. mike speed walks through the hallway and briefly looks around the main area, studying the purple curtained stage. he assumes that’s where people in costumes would perform, and he doesn’t dwell on the thought any longer.

mike continues through the eery building until he reaches a door he assumes leads to the office. mike sighs in relief as he lays his hands on the metal doorknob, thankful he was able to find it with ease.

mike turns the handle and pushes the door open, heart beating in his chest. the door creaks, much like the front door to the building, and he tenses up more than usual.

the office was dark, only dimly lit by a red bulb above a large breaker box. his senses are overwhelmed with the smell of sweat and blood.

mike’s nose twitches as he looks around the small office space. he decides he might as well get used to the smell and familiarize himself with the space, since he was going to be spending a lot of time in it.

the office was pretty vacant for the most part. it contains a long, narrow metal desk, which sat in front of a matching credenza. a small black fan and a landline phone next to an answering machine sat on it, as well as an old tv sitting on top of an equally old vcr, a desktop computer, and several cctv monitors, stacked on a rack at the back edge of the desk. two gray metal filing cabinets were pushed against the wall opposite the desk.

mike tries to ignore the feeling of anxiety that doesn’t seem to move from his stomach while he studies the room. he doesn’t like the long claw marks on the floor, they made him feel no better than the smell.

mike sighs and sits down in the old office chair, not surprised by it’s discomfort. he looks at the vhs tape in front of him titled “mike” and cocks an eyebrow.

it was going to be a long night, he thought to himself.

♡•♡•♡

the first hour of the night was pretty boring. occasionally, mike would flip through the cameras and scan the place, but for the most part, he just stayed in the office and watched the cameras.

mike glances at the clock on the wall in front of him and frowns.

“1:38” the clock reads.

“four more hours of this bullshit” mike groans, flipping through the cameras once more.

something caught his eye this time, though. in the main room, there was something moving under the tables. mike’s eyes almost pop out of his head when he notices.

mike brings his face closer to the computer and squints his eyes. as if the thing was mocking him, the movement stops.

“what the hell?” mike whispers, fully accepting he will be subconsciously talking to himself to fill the emptiness of the air.

mike gets up from the chair slowly and contemplates if he should find out what it is.

it’s probably nothing, mike thinks, but the thought that it could be something there, waiting to attack him, was keeping him still. mike feels silly for freaking himself out with children’s fantasies.

reluctantly, he grabs the flashlight and turns the knob on the door. when he steps into the hallway, the atmosphere seems to have shifted since an hour earlier, as now the earlier unoccupied area felt like someone is watching him.

mike grips the flashlight tightly and turns it on, surprised it works as well as it does. he slowly steps out of the hallway and into the main room, examining every detail of the disheveled place.

he checks under every table and finds nothing, relieved that nothing is there to get him. he continues searching though, making sure nothing is hiding.

he hears shuffling from behind him and practically jumps out of his skin. he spins around and flashes the light in the direction of the noise, seeing a figure scurry behind a trash bin.

mike‘s entire body is screaming at him to run out the front door and drive away, but of course, his curiosity got the best of him.

mike takes a small step forward and grips the flashlight tightly, a thin sheen of sweat covering his palm. he takes a few steps forward until he is only a few feet away from the trash bin and lets out a shaky breath.

“hello?” mike blurts out subconsciously. he slaps a hand over his mouth and fights his body’s urge to run. the thing shifts slightly, and mike hears some rustling.

if it is a killer, mike thinks to himself, now they know where i am.

he decides that he should just try to see what it is and hope it’s not someone (or something) trying to kill him.

mike creeps up to the trash can and pushes it to the side quickly, then jumping back before anything can attack him. instead, he’s met with the silhouette of a person with dark clothes on.

mikes eyebrows furrow at the sight in front of him, and he rubs his eyes quickly to make sure he’s not hallucinating. behind the trash can, you sit crouched over with your arms over your face, hand covering your mouth.

you wish more than anything that you could make a run for it, but you knew you wouldn’t get very far, considering you’ve already been running only moments earlier. so instead, you try to stay as still as possible, hand over your mouth, hoping that the security gaurd will mistake you for a shadow.

“i’m not stupid, you know,” a hoarse voice addresses you, “i can see you.

you tense up and try to think of any possible way to get out of here, despite the guard being three feet away from you. you move your hand away from your mouth and you chew at your bottom lip, taking a deep breath through your nose.

you finally accept defeat and lift your head up slowly. your open your eyes to be blinded by a bright light in your face and you cover your eyes in agony.

“can you get that shit out of my face, please?” you ask sarcastically, standing up and rubbing your eyes.

the security guard takes the light and points it at the ground, careful not to blind you.

“who the fuck are you and why are you here?” the man curses.

you take your hands away from your face and let your eyes adjust to the new light, examining the man in front of you.

you expect to see a gross old man, but instead you’re met with an attractive, young looking guy. you assume he’s in his late twenties, considering he still has childish features. his messy hair falls against his forehead and curls at the ends. his eyebrows form a crease against his forehead due to his eyebrows being pushed together in annoyance. if it weren’t for the circumstances you were in, you would have thought he was cute.

the man seems to be wondering what your next move is, because his big brown eyes won’t leave yours. you frown when you realize there’s no way to get out of this.

“i didn’t think anyone would be here,” you mutter, “this place is a dump.”

“tell me about it,” the man breathes out, “but that doesn’t explain why you’re here, does it?”

you try to think of any way you could lie your way out of this, but your mind draws a blank. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, deep in thought. you wish more than anything you could just crawl in a corner and die.

“i was trying to hide from the cops..” you whisper, looking at the ground.

“what?” the man questions, cocking an eyebrow.

“i was trying to hide from the cops.” you repeat, avoiding his gaze.

you look back up at the man to see him staring at you with an annoyed expression, tongue pressed against his cheek.

“what the hell did you do?” the man asks.

“please don’t call the police,” you plead and stand up while moving back against the wall, away from the man.

“why?” he questions and steps closer to you, “scared i’m going to do what i get paid to do?”

you frown when you hear his question, slowly regretting every decision you’ve ever made.

“look, im sorry okay..” you breathe out, looking at the floor, “i just really needed some money.”

the man does nothing. you look back up to see him already staring at you, face contorted into what you assume is anger. it’s hard to see him very well in the dark, but you see the man opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“are you going to tell the police?” you ask, scared you made the wrong decision of telling him the truth.

the guards eyebrows unfurrow for a moment, and you think he’ll actually let you go. then, he gives you the same expression he gave you earlier, only worse.

“you think i wanted this job?” he asks.

“huh?” you blurt out, his question completely catching you off guard.

“do you think i wanted this job?” he says again, looking around the dark room.

you follow his gaze and take a good look around the place as he shines the flashlight around the room. you didn’t even think to look at where you were going when you came inside, the only thing on your mind was not being found. suddenly, you feel a weird feeling in your stomach. maybe you shouldn’t have come here.

“no..” you whisper, staring at the half opened curtain on the stage.

“exactly,” the guard spits, “but i need money.”

a feeling of shame sits in the pit of your stomach when the guard speaks, and you wanted to cry. you look back to the man again and frown, wishing he would show you some sympathy.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, tears swelling at the brink of your eyelids.

you feel so ashamed right now, standing against the wall while a guard questions you while your eyes are moments away from spilling tears.

“sorry?” the man scoffs and grabs your arm, “sorry you got caught?”

you gasp and try to pull your arm away, but he only grips your skin tighter. he pulls you away from the wall and drags you through the room, despite you trying to break free from his grasp.

“what are you doing?” you cry out, following behind him while he holds you tightly.

the man doesn’t answer, instead pulling you through the hallway until you’re both standing face infront of a large, metal door.

“shit like this makes my job a whole lot harder,” the man groans, pushing open the door. a loud creak echoes through the hallway.

you examine the room through blurry vision. the office was pretty empty for the most part, besides the filing cabinets and desk with computers on them. you try to look for any way to escape before the police arrive. you look for a window, but all you see is a small vent across the room.

“why did you bring me here?” you ask the guard, fully expecting him to dial 911 on the phone that sits on the desk.

“well, i figured that if you don’t want me to call the police like i’m supposed to,” the man starts, letting go of your arm, “i’m sure you could just do my job for me?”

you furrow your eyebrows and frown at the man. you look back to the desk that sits at the end of the room and sigh. on the desk, you see a vhs tape that has “mike” scribbled on the side of it. you figure that is the man’s name. it fits him, you think.

“you want me to sit here and watch the security cameras?”

“that’s what i said, right?” the guard you assume is named mike mocks.

the way he was talking to you made you feel stupid, but you couldn’t help but feel turned on. you felt so ashamed for feeling the way you do about the security guard.

you stare blankly at mike while he awaits your answer that never comes as your mind rushes with thoughts of him doing all kinds of things to you. you felt like a horny teenager all over again.

“i asked you a question.” mike spits, getting obviously more annoyed with you, “what, you can’t think straight?”

you shake your head aggressively and frown, “i’m sorry, i’ll do it.”

mike smirks and grips your arm once more. he pulls you over to the chair but before you can sit down, he stops.

“what are you doing?” he asks, acting completely oblivious.

“um.. i was about to sit down?” you retort.

“aw, but,” he cocks an eyebrow, “this is my seat.”

“where am i supposed to sit?” you ask, confused.

mike sits down on the chair and pulls you by your arm until you’re right in front of him.

“why don’t you sit right here, hm?” he proposes, signaling your gaze to his lap.

you practically choke on your own spit at his words. did this hot man seriously just ask you to sit on his lap?

“what?” you sputter out, thinking you just heard him wrong.

mike smirks at you and pulls at your arm slightly, making you sit on his lap.

“how about this?” mike whispers against the shell of your ear.

oh. my. god. you weren’t sure if you were in heaven or hell. while you thought it was amazing that the hot security guard asked you to sit on his lap, you were also terrified of making any wrong move, incase he decided he was going to call the police.

you aren’t sure where to put your shaking hands, so you just decide to let them rest on your legs. you shift your body against his lap a few times, trying to get comfortable.

“jesus,” mike moans, “are you that fucking desperate?”

“what?” you ask, and your eyebrows furrow when you feel something hard against your ass. assuming it’s just the flashlight, you reach back to grab it from mike’s pocket. but when he throws his head back and lets out a moan, your hand quickly moves away and claps over your mouth.

“oh my god,” you mutter against your hand, barely audible. “i am.. so sorry.”

mike laughs and the sound sends a chill down your spine, “i’m not stupid, you know?”

before you can say anything, all the words you wanted to say fell from your tongue as mike runs his hands down your body. he lets his hands settle on your waist and you try not to scream. you felt so turned on that you thought you could explode. you try to focus on the cameras like you’re supposed to, but your mind kept running with thoughts of the man who’s lap you’re sitting on. his hard on pressing against the curve of your ass doesn’t make the situation any better, and you wish he could just fuck you already.

you subconsciously grind your hips down against mike’s, swallowing back a moan when he grunts in your ear, “don’t start something you can’t finish.”

you grind your hips down again as an answer and turn back to him, smiling. you find him already staring at you with eyes filled of lust and need, and for a moment, you feel scared. you felt so vulnerable with him, despite only not knowing him for long.

mike pushes you up off of his lap and stands up, pushing his bulge against your ass. your hips are pushed against the desk harshly and you were sure there would be bruises the next morning, but you didn’t care. you couldn’t focus on anything but how much you love the way he is manhandling you right now.

mike brings his head to the side of your neck and kisses harshly, leaving red marks that are soon to turn purple as the night goes on. you moan out when he finds your sweet spot against your collarbone and you rut your hips back against his harshly, begging for friction.

“god,” mike groans against your skin, pulling at your pants, “need to get this shit off of you.”

as mike slowly pulls your pants down, you throw your back in ecstasy.

“please..” you whine, desperate to have his dick inside of you.

“huh? please what?” mike’s hoarse voice whispers, dragging his tongue along your neck.

“please fuck me already.” you cry out, reaching your hands behind your back to grip his jeans and pull them.

“fuckkkk..” mike groans when your hand grazes over his bulge.

mike replaces your hands with his own and pulls his pants down to his thighs, his dick uncomfortably straining in his boxers. mike hooks his fingers on your underwear and pulls them down to your ankles, now with your pants. you step out of your clothes and kick them to the side, discarding them in the corner of the room.

mike tugs at the ends of your shirt to let you know he wants it off, and as quickly as you raise your hands up, he pulls it over your head and latches his lips on yours. it’s kind of hard to kiss him due to your position in front of him, but you have no reason to complain.

his kisses are vulnerable and animalistic, and you have a hard time keeping up. he forces his tongue inside of your mouth and groans when his tongue touches yours, swirling his around your mouth.

the kiss is desperate, how his tongue tangles with yours. it’s filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of lust you both feel for each other.

you know how badly he wants to fuck you. you can tell by the way his mouth is on yours. you pull away from his lips and look at him, examining his beautiful appearance. his impatience is clear with his clenched jaw, one of his hands traveling up and down your body as his free hand pulls his boxers down to let his cock free. it springs about against his stomach and he gasps at the feeling of the cool air in the room hitting it.

you crane your neck back to see the tip of his dick leaking with precum and you gasp. he is big. a feeling of anxiety mixed with excitement suddenly washes over you when you see his dick.

“what’s wrong, sweetheart? scared it won’t fit?” he smirks, voice lingering with a sarcastic tone.

you whine at his condescending words and reach your hand back to jerk him off, but he stops you. he clicks his tongue and pursues his lips, then whispers, “just watch the cameras, yeah? i can do all the work.”

you frown when you remember the whole reason he brought you in here was to do his job, but if it meant he would finally fuck you, you really didn’t mind. you turn your head back to the cameras and sigh, doing your best to make mike happy.

when you feel the tip of mike’s cock against your hole, you clap a hand over your mouth and moan against your palm.

“you don’t— have to be quiet,” he grunts, slowly pushing his tip into you, “it’s just us here.”

you take your hand away from your mouth and moan loudly, bracing your hands against the end of the desk for stability.

“so.. fucking tight.” mike moans against your ear.

you whine loudly at the feeling of his cock perfectly stretching you out, despite only the tip being in. your mouth falls open in a silence cry as he pushes into you slowly, trying not to hurt you.

“you can take it,” he murmurs, “you can take all of it.”

his cock stretches your tight walls, filling every inch of you up with his thickness. his calloused hands grip your hips tightly, and his fingernails leave crescent moon shaped marks on your skin.

he gives you a moment to adjust to his size, but when you clench around him, he continues moving until he’s all the way inside.

“holy shit..” you gasp, feeling so full and stuffed with his cock inside of you.

nothing comes out of you but incoherent blabbering when he pushes his cock as deep as it will go, and mike stares at you in complete awe.

“shh.. it’s okay.” mike coos against your ear, "just keep your eyes on the cameras. can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

you nod your head aggressively and stare at the computers through hooded eyes that threaten to squeeze shut. you writhe against him, tears already falling and staining your cheeks as your legs tremble.

your hole grips mike perfectly, feeling every vein and sucking every last drop of pre cum out of him. after letting you adjust for a while, he starts a slow, steady pace. the feeling of his thick cock moving out of you slowly makes you burn with desire.

mike pulls his dick all the way out of you, leaving you empty and vulnerable. you turn around and whine, but the whine quickly turns into a high pitched moan when he pushes himself back inside of you. you felt like you were being split in half by his thickness.

he pulls out of you completely then pushes himself back in slowly a few more times before starting a steady pace. your legs shake as you grip the desk tightly, trying to stabilize yourself.

“already fucked out?” mike utters, thrusting his cock deeper into you. he lets go of your hip with one hand and firmly wraps his arm around your throat, using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

the raspiness in mike’s voice sent pleasure coursing through your entire body, making you lose yourself in the moment.

noticing that your head is dropping a bit, mike uses his other hand to hold your head up to the screens. mike takes a moment to study your features, lit up by the light of the many monitors.

the room fills with the sounds of your moans and cries, along with mikes soft groans he occasionally let slip. the sound of skin slapping against skin causes your mouth to fall open in a choked sob as his dick continues to abuse the spongy spot inside of you.

mike presses his face into the crook of your neck and bites softly at the marked skin, admiring the work he left earlier. he leans in and kisses the corner of your chewed lips before whispering, "you feel—shit, you feel so fucking good."

you let out a strangled noise at his words, blabbering on about how you want his cum deep inside of you.

“yeah? wanna be stuffed full of my cum, hm?” mike purrs against your lips, bringing his hand down to wipe the tears that stain your cheeks.

you clench around him and moan loudly, rutting your hips back against his while trying to match his rhythm. a feeling of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through you when he begins to thrust into you at a brutal pace, and your legs tremble harshly.

“fuckkk..” mike grunts, “use your words, sweetheart.”

you open your mouth and try to speak, but the only thing that falls from your lips is whimpers and whines as he continues to pump himself into you.

“what’s that?” mike taunts, “i can’t hear you.”

you didn’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking. the way his words linger in the air with a condescending tone makes you feel stupid. you weren’t sure if he was trying to make you feel dumb on purpose, but you would never admit that it only made you more turned on.

“please!” you cry out, eyes rolling back into your head. you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and chew on the sensitive skin there.

mike moans and continues to pound into you, making sure you are watching the screens closely. mike curses under his breath, tightening his grip on you as he fucks into your tight hole.

“jesus— fuck..” you choke out through moans, “i’m gonna cum..”

mike slams his thickness into you harshly, making sure your hole remembers every last detail of his cock.

“yeah? what— fuck, what makes you think you deserve to cum?” mike asks, cutting himself off with a moan.

“please let me cum!” you sob, entire body shaking for your release.

your hole constricts around his cock as you cry out, legs quivering as the knot in your stomach threatens to snap at any moment.

“god, you’re such a fucking whore,” mike keens, “getting fucked.. shit, by a guy you barely know in a security office? it’s— mhmm.. its pathetic.”

mike pulls away from your neck and looks down, admiring the way your hole swallows his thickness. he almost cums immediately when he sees the way your ass ripples with each pulverizing thrust into you.

“mmmnf, please.. please let me cum—!” you moan, squeezing tightly around his cock. the sound of you begging causes his dick to twitch inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you perfectly. you arch your back against him, swallowing every inch of his cock with your hole.

mike fucks into you relentlessly, spurred on by the sounds of gorgeous moans falling from your lips. he’s eager to feel how hard you finish around him, and just the thought has him biting back moans.

“want you to make a mess for me, baby.” he rasps out, his voice beginning to break and waver as he climbs a mountain of his own bliss. “want you to let go and— holy shit, and cum with me. please.”

“i’m gonna— mhmmmm..” his words of approval are enough to send you over the edge, and you finally feel the knot inside of your stomach snap. waves of pleasure wash over you as you cum, your body completely going limp.

mike squeezes every inch of your body, using you like a fucktoy to chase his own high. “’m cumming.. shit.” he moans, thrusts becoming stronger as he fucks his cum deep into you.

mike cries out when he cums, overstimulating your hole as you milk every last drop. his orgasm causes him to topple over into his own bliss, hips stuttering as he lets out high pitched moans.

his cum floods through your ruined walls, and he fucks it further into you until he physically can’t anymore.

his body stumbles forward when he pulls out, watching his sperm drip from your filthy hole. your body is sandwiched between his and the desk while you try to catch your breath, legs shaking involuntarily.

as you both come down from your highs, the room feels like it’s spinning. mike gets off of you and sits back in the chair, pulling you by your hips to sit with him.

“jesus christ,” he breathes, completely fucked out, “that was amazing.”

“thank you..” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

“hey,” mike says, shaking you awake, “you still have to watch the security cameras.”

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you #derek danforth #josh futturman #billy burn #clapton davis #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #josh hutcherson is my man #five nights at freddys movie #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mikeschmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike fnaf #mike schmidt fluff #michael afton smut #michael afton x reader #michael afton #fnafmovie #fnaf movie #fnaf michael afton #gn reader

[alchemistc]

Wayne teaching a pleading Eddie about baseball in the heat of the summer because Steve has spent months investing in all of Eddie's special interests and Eddie has come to the terrible realization that he's mostly shit on Steve's music and hobbies for most of their friendship so he buys tickets to a baseball game on a whim as a "surprise sorry I'm a shitty friend" gift except like, he doesn't have a fucking clue about sports in general and he doesn't want to look STUPID.

Wayne, with a put upon sigh, sitting in his recliner and declining to comment on the tiny green shorts Eddie is wearing because the last time he brought up Steve's propensity for leaving his goddamn clothes in Eddie's room all the time Eddie had iced him out for three whole days. The trailer doesn't have AC and it's hot as hell so whatever, if Eddie wants to continue to deny that Harrington is clearly leaving bits of himself behind to test out the waters then Wayne isn't going to push it.

Wayne, trying to explain infield and outfield and pitchers and catchers ("Okay I know that one," Eddie says with a wiggle of his eyebrows and Wayne scowls.) and runners and scoring and innings.

Harrington's Beemer pulling up on a Friday afternoon and Wayne greeting him at the door while Steve asks Wayne if he knows what Eddie has planned and Wayne shrugs because he still doesn't understand why they need a day and a half to make it to the game, and Eddie's excited for this surprise.

Wayne waking up on Sunday afternoon to the sound of the trailer door slamming open, laying in bed listening to hushed voices and the sounds of bacon frying on the stove, rolling out of bed to find his nephew still wearing his damn sunglasses inside, so clearly they'd had themselves a good time, and then Wayne blinks and his eyes focus and -

"What the hell are you wearing, kid?" he asks and Eddie yelps, bangs his head on the open cabinet door, hisses when the movement knocks the glasses off his nose and the light hits his eyes and Wayne very carefully does not mention the way Harrington presses in close to examine Eddie's head, fingers pressing into Eddie's hair and it's a familiar closeness but there's definitely still something more there than there was two days ago.

His nephew is wearing a goddamned Cubs jersey in his goddamn house and Steve's eyes flit to the Cardinals hat hung on the wall with growing comprehension and possibly a little terror.

"Everyone knows the merch is half the experience, Wayne," Eddie tells him and Wayne contemplates snacking him upside the head because his goddamn nephew has had the audacity to fall in love with a goddamn Cubbie fan. Right under his roof.

Over breakfast Steve explains the rivalry and has to stop himself from talking shit about the Cards more than once. Wayne admires his restraint but nearly shoves his own head right in the oven when it turns out Steve had likened everything Eddie didn't understand about the game to DnD scenarios and managed to make a fan out of Eddie.

Wayne doesn't have the heart to threaten to burn the jersey. Not when Eddie is making connections between the Curse and one of his old campaigns and Steve is staring at his nephew with such a helplessly fond look that Wayne feels like he's interrupting something.

Not when they suddenly have a standing appointment to sit around their small TV, Eddie in his Cubs jersey and Wayne with his Cards hat firmly pulled over his head and Steve in between them quietly drinking his beer while Eddie yells at the ump through the TV about a called strike that is "Clearly off the plate, man, are you BLIND?"

Not when Eddie comes in late one morning and leans against the door with two fingers absentmindedly pressed to his lips and suddenly Steve's over most nights, hooking his ankle over Eddie's and curling his fingers into Eddie's and stumbling over sudden sirs again even though Wayne thought he'd curbed that months ago.

He does, however, draw the line when Eddie tries to give him a Cubs hat for his birthday.

#waynes from missouri because i say so and its fucking hilarious to think of him finally finding something to bond with eddie over #only for him to be a goddamn cubs fan #when the cubbies finally win the ws eddie calls to crow about it and threatens to buy him a replica ring #steddie headcanon #wayne munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #30+40 yr old eddie munson collecting bobble heads of cubs players and dropping by waynes to leave them around like a taunt

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Black Widow

Summary: How a Black Widow made it out of the Red Room, and onto the 141.

Warnings: there’s a lot of talk of trauma in this, explicit smut, threesomes, jealousy, spitroasting, etc, etc, weirdly long (5k)

Notes: the reader was raised (ish) in the red room but this fic is not at all a part of the mcu – it’s just supposed to be the story of a defector, and how she became a part of the 141

kind of felt guilty while writing this bc it made me feel like ghost was cheating on red fox from the fics by @charnelhouse lmao

feedback and comments are very much appreciated!!!

Masterlist | requests are OPEN! | hmu to be added to one of my taglists!

The first memory you have of an outsider is at eleven years old. You and the other girls are sleeping in the dormitory when Madam Ivanova bursts in and opens the handcuffs binding you all to your beds. She pulls the others from their cots, and you almost don’t notice the man that grabs you by the arm.

He’s wearing a hat you’ve never seen before, and that immediately scares you – you don’t recognize him.

“I’ve found the girls!” he shouts, and others pour in, armed to the teeth. Madam Ivanova is still guiding other girls out of the room, and you can see the fear in her eyes. She’s not a kind person, but she takes care of you. Nothing bad has ever happened to you when you were with her.

Nothing like this.

So you turn around, and punch the man square in the face. It takes him aback, and he stumbles backwards. It gives you just enough time to run from him.

Later, you learn that his name is Price, and that he is with the British. An enemy of the Red Room.

Seven years later, you come face to face with him again. You’re three years into active duty, serving the Red Room, and you look drastically different from what you looked like at eleven.

It’s a mistake from another girl that causes your capture. It’s his face that you see first when the hood is pulled off your face.

In the past few years, he’s been the face of your nightmares, so you stay silent. It surprises you when the British don’t torture you. Instead, they offer you a deal. Provide them with the intel they want, and be free of the Red Room.

It takes you three months to accept that deal, and one more to get Price and his colleague Laswell the things they want.

They give you your pardon, and you move to New Zealand, as far away from Russia and Great Britain as you can.

With a fake passport, fake birth certificate and fake story, you leave all of it behind.

You wake up early, shrieking out of your sleep from a nightmare. Your first thought is to call Sarina, an old colleague who also made it out, but you know that she’s still asleep – at least the people in her time zone are. Instead, your feet carry you outside to the lake.

You fish around in your jacket, finding a cigarette and lighter. There’s a nervous feeling in your gut, ever-present. Trained into you since you can remember. This country is the safest and most isolated you could manage, and yet, there’s always the imperative of looking over your shoulder.

You hear Price walking onto the gravelly beach before you see him.

“You know I moved here to be left alone, right?” you tell him, taking another draw from your cigarette.

“I’ve got a job for you.” Price says instead, and you shake your head.

“I’m done with contracting work.”

“So you live off of government support and the intel you sell on the dark web?” he asks.

“That’s my business.”

“It’s about the Red Room.”

You pause, glancing over at him. He looks sincere, but you can also see the earpiece he’s wearing.

“Laswell on the comms?” you asked. You still remember the woman, distrusting as fuck from the moment she met you.

“Yeah. She’s helping with coordinating the team.”

You snort with disdain. “I don’t work in teams. We aren’t trained to.”

“You’ll like them.” Price promises.

“I doubt it. I don’t like you very much.”

Price gives you a dry laugh, and you know he doesn’t take it as personally as you want him to.

“I know that this is personal to you. You got out at eighteen – that’s later than most. You know what they do.”

“Ask any other defector. Sarina, or Antonya. I’m not interested.” You tell him firmly.

“We’re not taking many prisoners from the Red Room.” Price begins again, and you’re about to cut him off. “You can kill the head. Get the girls safe, and you can do with Dreykov whatever you want.”

The offer is too tempting to turn down. To be able to kill the man that ruined your life? The man that ruined the lives of all those other girls?

“I’m in.” you say, and Price gives you a grim smile in return.

“Pack your things. You can meet the team in England.”

Soap

Price had said that he was going to New Zealand for business. He hadn’t realized that ‘business’ entailed a woman.

“That yer girlfriend?” Soap asked, and the woman gave him a look so mean that she almost compared to Ghost.

“I’d hope not.” Price replied. “I’d be dead before morning.”

The woman sat down at the end of the table silently. She looked around, before her hands grabbed a pack of cigarettes from her jacket, lighting it up again.

Ghost was quiet too, but fuck, he knew Ghost. This woman didn’t say a single fucking word, but Soap still knew that Price didn’t have any kind of power over her.

“What’s the mission?” he asked impatiently, and Price set down a stack of Manila folders onto the table.

Laswell pushed off from the wall she’d been leaning against, pulling one of the folders from the stack.

“To most special operatives, the Red Room is a myth. A story made up by the KGB, and nothing more. But the Red Room exists, and we’re going to take it down.”

The woman made a sound for the first time, and it was a disdainful laugh. The others turned to stare at her, but Laswell cleared her throat to redirect their attention back to the right person.

“Over the years, the US and Britain have worked together to take the Red Room down, but it’s evolved from a KGB branch to a human trafficking ring. They take young girls off the streets all over the world and turn them into trained killers, mostly targeting politicians. Taking down the Red Room would mean putting a stop to their ongoing crimes and potentially explain some of the most unclear assassinations of the past seventy years.” Laswell said.

Soap glanced over to the woman, who was watching Laswell with close to no emotion on her face. Stubbing her cigarette on the steel table she leaned back, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“And she’ll be a part of that?” Gaz asked, nodding to her.

Price nodded. “Her call sign is Black Widow.”

“Got a name too?” Soap asked, and she told him, quickly. Quietly.

“What do you do in the field?” Gaz asked her. Soap noticed that Ghost was watching her closely, as if he expected her to pull a gun on the team.

“Hand to hand combat, espionage, sexpionage. I can be a sniper if you want me to.” She answered quickly.

“She’s here to show you the way into the Red Room and make the girls there trust you enough to get them out.” Price added.

“What, don’t want to get punched by a kid again?” she said, and Price rolled his eyes. They knew each other, but they didn’t like each other at all.

When the meeting ended, the team began to file out of the room, but Soap stayed behind, hoping to catch her and introduce himself. Ghost shot him a warning look, that Soap chose to ignore.

“Welcome to the team.” He said.

“Thrilled.” She replied dryly.

“I’m John. Everyone here calls me Soap though.”

“I know. I read your file.” She deadpanned. She could have been funny if she hadn’t been constantly mean.

“Ya got access to that?” he asked.

“No.” she replied.

Of course she didn’t.

Ghost

They’d tried to get into a smaller base of the Red Room first, to gather some more intel. None of the team had expected there to be any people, much less a bunch of teen girls armed to the teeth.

It didn’t end well.

Out of the thirty girls there, they’d managed to get seven out alive. The others had either died via cyanide pills or while fighting them.

Black Widow had explained that they were brainwashed, and that was why they’d immediately committed suicide when other options ran out. She didn’t seem to be affected too much by it. At least, she tried to pretend that it was that way.

He’d taken a bullet to the thigh, and it had been her to stitch him up in the safehouse before he could call the medic. She’d been grazed by something, and she took care of that herself as well.

They’d all managed to get some time under the shower, and now, they sat in the living room together. She was in the cargo pants she’d worn on the mission and a black tank top, and Ghost could see the tattoo on her right shoulder blade while her back was to him.

The square hourglass symbol, followed by a number.

1047.

He didn’t have to ask to know that she was the 1047th girl they’d taken. He wondered how many of them had died at his hands, while he didn’t know that he was fighting children.

Price was working on the radio they’d found in the safehouse, but finding an enjoyable station in the middle of Russia was proving to be harder than expected. Eventually, he landed on a classical music station.

She didn’t seem to mind, scraping her can of tortellini clean, until a new song played. Ghost did not recognize it, but he saw her hands curl around the can tightly, knuckles turning white.

“Change the station.” She said. Price looked up. It was the first thing anyone had said in a few hours.

“Why?”

“Just change the fucking station.” She snapped. “Please.”

Price nodded, turning it to something else. A Russian voice chattered into the room. Ghost could see that she was listening, probably understanding every single word.

“What are they saying?” Price asked.

“That there was a fire in the warehouse we were in.” she said.

“Nothing about us?”

She shook her head. “From what they’re saying, they don’t have a clue. The Red Room will know.”

“Why?” Ghost asked.

“They chipped us. They know the last location of the girls, and they know that seven of the chips moved without the rest. I had the medics take them out, but it took them a while to get here. By now, Dreykov will know that something is going on.”

It was the most she’d said in one go so far.

Ghost didn’t trust her, but he didn’t mind her either. Most of the team disliked her, and Price couldn’t seem to stand her. Soap had his mind set on talking to her. But Ghost… he didn’t know who she was, only that she was as quiet as he was.

He knew that Soap wanted to ask about the scars that littered her arms and what they could see of her back, and he knew that she would not answer.

Suddenly, there was a shout of frustration from Gaz.

“What happened?” Price asked, immediately on his feet.

“Heater’s out.”

Glancing outside, Ghost saw that it was snowing heavily. Black Widow got up from her spot in the room. Ghost could hear her shuffle inside one of the cabinets.

She returned with blankets, dumping them in the middle of the room before taking one for herself. Ghost said nothing as she sat down next to him, an arm length of space between them. The snow only got heavier, until it turned into an all-out blizzard.

“We’ll be snowed in tomorrow.” Soap noted.

“Let’s worry about freezing to death first.” Gaz said. He was chattering, despite the blanket around him. Black Widow had gotten herself a second already, and she still looked cold.

“Taking first watch.” Ghost muttered, sitting down by the window.

“I’ll join you.” Soap said. Ghost knew that Soap wanted to chatter about something idle to distract himself from the image of 23 dead fourteen-year-olds.

The others shuffled together for warmth, except for her. She stayed where she was, leaning against the counter of the small kitchen.

“Ya think she’s from the Red Room?” Soap asked under his breath.

“Course she is.” Ghost replied.

“I heard they take the girls when they’re three. Teach ‘em ballet and how to be all pretty while killing a man. Then they send them out when they’re fifteen.”

Ghost nodded, letting Soap know that he was listening.

“Ya think that’s why she wanted ta change the station?”

“Huh?”

“They were playin’ sum ballet song.” Soap said. “Maybe she knows how to dance to it. “

“Doubt she does much dancing.” Ghost replied.

“Sight for sore eyes though. But after what she did today…” Soap mumbled.

Ghost still remembered it. How ruthlessly she’d fought against those girls. Wasn’t she supposed to know that they had no choice?

They had all obviously gone through the same combat training, but she was older and stronger. Those girls knew that. She knew that.

Ghost had watched her snap the neck of one with a twist of her hand. Something like that was so grotesque that even Ghost seldom did it, but with her it looked like the starter to a five-course-meal.

“She ain’t happy.” Soap said.

“No shit.”

“Ya think she’s a good person?”

“I doubt it.” Ghost replied.

“I think she could be. Maybe she’s an ass due to circumstance.”

Ghost snorted. Only Soap would say something like that. When he glanced over to her, he saw beady eyes glancing back in the darkness. He wondered if she’d listened in to their conversation.

She didn’t sleep for most of the time Ghost and Soap were on watch. A few hours in, she picked up her pack of cigarettes and lighter and offered them to take over watch.

Ghost nodded, about to get up and go back to bed, but Soap was hesitant.

“It’s fucking cold sleeping on tha ground.” He said.

“We can sleep close. For warmth.” Ghost replied.

“Nah. I’ll stay on my feet.” Soap said.

Ghost shook his head. What the fuck was going on with Soap?

You

You were back to square one, thanks to some wrong intel. On top of that, they all saw what you did to the other girls. You weren’t sure if their pity was worse or whatever they did now.

All of them except Soap, who still seemed determined to chew off your ear. Currently, he was telling you about his hometown in Scotland.

“You’re from New Zealand, aren’t ya?” he asked finally.

“I just lived there.”

“Then where are you from?” he asked. You shrugged in response. Russia was where you were raised, technically, but you did not know where you were taken from.

Soap smiled at you brightly, completely unguarded. It threw you off. He was a special ops, and yet, he sometimes behaved like anything but.

You didn’t need classes in the Red Room to know that he was attracted to you. Yet, you weren’t sure whether that would help or hinder you.

“Who raised ya? Masked soldiers?” he said, and you were sure he’d meant it as a joke.

“A woman called Madam Ivanova. She was in charge of us.”

“Was? Who killed her?”

“Price.” You replied curtly.

“I’m sorry.” He said quickly. You could see that he was regretting his words.

“Don’t be. She wasn’t a good person.”

“You say that as if she killed your friends.”

“She did.” You replied.

“What?”

“If recruits aren’t good enough, you don’t let them into your ranks.” You shrugged.

“Recruits? Fucking hell, you were girls.”

“Yeah, at the beginning of the program. 1 in 20 makes it through.”

Soap didn’t say anything else that night.

***

You stayed on after taking down Dreykov. By going back into this industry, you’d given up New Zealand, and in your gut, you’d known that when you made that choice.

The team had grown to accept you, and even Price was alright with your company by now. In return, you tried to be less snappy towards them. It worked, most of the time.

The last mission had been a good one. No one innocent had died, you’d gotten the intel, and the bad guys were dead. It was like out of a story, and the group was celebrating.

Price had gotten an empty bar, and Soap was playing bartender, giving out drinks like there was no tomorrow, and chugging his own just as quickly. Ghost was in the corner, mask rolled up to drink whatever Soap handed him.

You could see a bit of blond stubble peek out, along with a small scar. You knew how he’d gotten it. It had been in the Red Room, the actual Red Room, and an eight-year-old girl had slashed at him with a sharpened letter opener.

Ghost hadn’t defended himself. You’d pried the girl off him, taking the weapon from her and making sure she wouldn’t jam it into his neck next.

“Here.” Soap said, handing you a shot of Tequila.

“I’ve had enough.” You replied. “If I drink any more, I’ll get tipsy.”

“That’s the point.” Soap said, firmly putting the shotglass down. “You’re lucky we’re not playing any drinking games.”

You snatched the glass from him, ignoring his smug smile as you downed it, holding out your ahnd for a lime wedge. Soap dropped it into your hand quickly.

You laughed at some stupid joke he said, ignoring the stares on your back from the rest of the team. You couldn’t deny the fact that Soap could make you feel less…

You weren’t sure, but when you were with Soap, your past faded into the background. It wasn’t as important anymore. All the blood and fucking gore of it.

Ghost

He wasn’t sure why, but he hated that she was laughing at Soap’s idiot jokes. Somehow, he had convinced her to get tipsy, and it was a good look on her.

She was pretty when she smiled. Not that she wasn’t without, but it made her look careless. At some point, she walked over to him, another shot glass in hand.

“Soap insists you drink another. He wants to see you tipsy.”

Ghost took the glass from her, ignoring the fact that he enjoyed their hands touching.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Ghost paused.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re quiet. You always are, but you’re like… quiet tonight.” She said. He wanted to scoff at her.

“You and Johnny fucking?” he asked. He wasn’t sure why.

“What?” she asked. “Where the fuck is that coming from?”

“Don’t want my team messed up.”

“Oh in that case, you don’t have to worry Lieutenant.” She spat. Her entire body language had shifted in a moment, and it was telling Ghost to fuck off. “I’m going for a smoke.”

Ghost watched her storm out, before glancing over to Soap. He’d stilled his movements, looking after her.

Ghost followed a few seconds after, leaving the bar. She stood outside, clicking on her lighter angrily.

“Don’t fucking say anything stupid.” She told him, throwing the lighter away with a frustrated movement. Suddenly, Ghost surged forward, grabbing her jaw softly. He had to lean down to look at her, even if she wasn’t short.

“Wha-“ she began

“I thought you learned about all of this.” Ghost mumbled, suddenly unsure what to do. Her hands surged forward, pulling the lower half of his mask up.

His hand moved the back of her neck, covering pretty much all of it. He could taste the sourness of limes on her lips. Her lips were so soft Ghost thought he might forget about everything else.

He ghosted over her jaw, and felt the tenseness in it. Carefully, Ghost broke contact.

“Relax.” He told her.

“I am.”

“This isn’t a mission.”

“I just- I haven’t done this just for the sake of it.”

Shit. Ghost felt terrible when she said that.

“Don’t stop now.” She whispered, and Ghost obliged, his lips meeting hers again. Her jaw wasn’t as tense as it had been, and her arms hung loosely around his neck. Slowly, he let one of his hands slide down to her waist, pulling her in closely.

She let down a quiet oof as she hit his vest, letting him guide her towards the wall of the bar. His other hand pillowed her head, making sure that she would not hurt herself.

He hated to admit that kissing her was everything he wanted in that moment.

It was so perfect, the taste of her lips, her small hands on his chest and his own encircling her waist. Their closeness.

And then, the illusion shattered.

She sprang back from him, looking towards the door of the bar.

“Soap?” she asked, voice hoarse.

Soap

He’d only come out of the bar to check on her and Ghost, expecting them to be at each other’s throats. They were, just not the way he’d thought.

“Soap?” she asked, surprise apparent on her face. Ghost’s hand was still on her waist, but she’d backed away from him as soon as she’d heard his steps.

His stomach dropped. He wanted her. Simon fucking knew that. He’d wanted to do that to her since he’d met her, and he’d told Simon. He’d told him about what he thought of her and he did this?

And from the look on her face, she knew how he felt as well.

“Fuck you, Riley.” He spat, turning back around. Ghost stayed where he was, but she followed him.

“Please don’t go.” She said. “It was- I didn’t mean to-“

“What? You looked like you were about to fuck him right there.” Soap replied. He knew his accent was thick due to anger, and he didn’t care. He didn’t expect her to push him like a petulant child though.

Soap barely stumbled, and that only seemed to enrage her more.

“It was a heat of the moment thing!” she finally said. “He got me angry, and it worked, okay?”

“I don’t know why you’re so upset.” He finally replied. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“But I like you.” She blurted out. Soap blinked dumbly.

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it again. It makes me sound so childish.” She said. Behind her, Ghost moved.

“So why’d you make out with him?” Soap asked. She didn’t reply, but for the first time since he’d met her, she blushed. Furiously.

Oh.

He glanced over to Ghost, who towered behind her. He saw it too. Their eyes met, and Soap saw the idea that was coming to his mind mirrored in Ghost’s.

Oh.

They’d never even come close to something like that, but maybe…

Softly, he tipped up her chin, There were the beginnings of tears in her eyes, but her cheeks were still flushed from kissing Ghost and the Tequila she’d had. Her pupils were still dilated.

She was so fucking hot.

He could share with Ghost.

This wasn’t the first kiss Soap had imagined, but imagination be damned, it was still fucking amazing. Soap pulled her closer by the loops in her belt, feeling her body press against him. Her hands grabbed his neck, pulling him closer.

Soap could practically feel Ghost hover behind her, feel the impatience rolling off of him.

“Let’s get outta here, yeah?” Soap offered, and she nodded, grabbing him by the hand. Ghost followed, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He leaned in, whispering. “She’s never had sex for the sake of sex.”

Soap nodded. If she knew they were talking about her, she ignored it.

“I wasn’t planning on not focusing on her.” He replied.

Ghost

They found a dingy motel, and Soap barely managed to scrape money out of his wallet before he was already sprinting up the stairs to their hotel. The woman behind the desk gave them a look that told Ghost she knew exactly what they were planning.

Not that he cared much.

He caught up with her, grabbing her by the waist and throwing her over his shoulder. Soap shook his head, unlocking the door to their room as quickly as he could.

Ghost let her down on the bed, crashing lips onto lips. She gave a surprised squeak that turned into a moan as his hand wandered to her tits, greedily squeezing.

Blindly, she pulled Soap onto the bed, causing it to groan from the weight.

“Might break it if we keep going.” Soap said.

“That’s the goal.” She replied, before kissing him. Ghost didn’t know why he didn’t feel jealous but he was glad. Carefully, he set to work on pulling off her jacket, and then, her shirt.

He paused when he saw a massive scar, running from under her left breast until her hipbone. Ghost ran a thumb over it carefully. There was another, low on her stomach. Ghost didn’t want to think of where they’d come from. Kissing up her breasts, she felt her hands tug at his vest.

He shrugged it off, watching as she wrapped her legs around Soap’s waist, flipping him onto his back.

From under her hair, he saw the tattoo. It disappeared again when she leaned forward to suck on Soap’s neck, softly biting his shoulder.

Soap groaned and Ghost suddenly felt his pants grow uncomfortably tight.

He moved to kneel behind her, feeling her grind against the bulge in Soap’s pants. His hand snaked onto her neck, and she turned to kiss him.

“Good?” she asked. Simon and John nodded at the same time. She’s the most naked out of all of them, bra and pants still on, and God, it’s not enough for him. He picked her up, knowing exactly that she knew this was nothing for him, and beginning to open her pants.

Soap sat up, looking almost offended at being left out but then, he leaned back, giving her an appreciative smile.

Simon had almost managed to not feel guilty for making out with her behind the bar despite what Soap had told him.

She’s a pretty lass. I think she’d kill me if I told her.

That was the first thing Soap had told him, and Simon had silently agreed. He’d had no idea that Soap’s simple attraction would turn into a full-blown crush, like that of a lovesick teen. He’d had no idea that he’d follow so closely behind.

It had happened to him after the mess with the Red Room. She’d come out of Dreykov’s office, covered in blood, slick with it, and collapsed at his feet. He’d picked her up and carried her to the medics, but not before he’d caught a glimpse of the office.

Dreykov’s body, scattered across the room, his bodyguards dead with him.

He’d seen her carnal violence, and she’d held his hand afterwards, as they stitched her back together. Three bullets and six stab wounds, and she’d squeezed his hand so hard he was sure it would fall off.

They never spoke of it afterwards, but there was something there then.

There’s a moment of awkward rustling where Soap and Widow pull off their clothes, and Simon stands off to the side, unsure whether he should take his off as well.

Instead, he lowers himself to the end of the bed, pulling her towards him until her cunt is in front of his face. She crosses her legs for a moment, and Simon begins to work on her thighs. It takes her a moment, and then she lets him touch her.

Soap is somewhere above him, making out with her so intensely that Simon can see her chest heave with each breath. He’s so hard in his pants it almost hurts.

But this is about her. For her.

The first moan he coaxes from her is muffled, almost swallowed by Soap’s kiss, but the second comes more loudly. Simon stays where he is, until her legs wrap around his head with a trained strength and he can barely breathe.

He’d die happy between her legs.

Soap

Everything that’s happening turns into an avalanche once her clothes are off. She’s still sweaty from the bar and walking to the motel, but he couldn’t care less. Her tits are in his face – he has no right to.

Ghost is somewhere, doing something, and he can barely concentrate on what he’s doing with the sounds that are coming from her mouth. She’s not fragile – he knows she isn’t. And yet, he feels like he has to hold her like she’ll break apart.

“I want…” she begins, but trails off again, into another moan. Johnny throws a look behind his shoulder and sees her legs wrapped around Ghost’s head, so tightly that he isn’t sure his friend is still alive.

“What do you want?” he demands from her. She could ask anything from him right now. He’d shoot his own brains out if she wanted him to.

“Please, I need you.” She begs, and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind in this shitty motel.

Slowly, she lets Ghost go, and he stands up, pulling his mask over his face again. He’s still wearing his clothes.

Soap lets her get on top. Ghost is somewhere, holding her somehow, but all he can focus on is the feeling of him inside her. It’s never-ending, golden, and Soap knows nothing has felt more right.

“Fuck.” She mumbles, her arms shaking as she tries to steady herself on his shoulders. Ghost had done a number on her, and it looked amazing.

When she began to move, the scar on her stomach stretched, pulling on her skin. Soap wanted to take her away from it all. Him and Ghost, they could protect her. Let her truly retire.

She was younger than both of them, and had worked this kind of stuff long before them. Only Price had more experience.

Suddenly, she leans forward, her lips grazing his ear.

“Ghost feels a little left out.”

“We don’t want that, do we now?” he replies.

“I have something that might work.” She says, and Johnny trusts her. She turns around, offering her cunt to him from behind, facing Ghost. He takes out his cock, stroking leisurely, and Soap wants to gulp with her.

It’s fucking massive. She wants to suck him off when he’s that big?

But then she’s practically begging him to fill her cunt again, and all thoughts of possible or not possible are gone when he’s inside her.

He watches, through a haze, as Ghost feeds her his cock. She gags on it, and Johnny can feel himself twitch inside her. She feels it too.

Ghost is careful with her at first, whispering praises.

Good girl. You’re doing so well.

And then, he kind of forgets all about that, slowly guiding her head. The enormity of him causes her to rock back against Soap, and he wishes he could see her face.

He feels himself growing close, and suddenly he panics – there’s no condoms.

So he pulls out of her, and both Ghost and her halt their movements.

“You on the pill?” Soap asks quickly.

“I can’t have kids.” She replies. He halts at that for a moment, but then, she and Ghost are back at it, and he doesn’t want to miss out.

His hand snakes down to her belly, finding her clit. It causes her to clench around him and it takes Soap all of his willpower not to come then and there.

He doesn’t know where to look. The perfect fucking curve of her back. Her ass. Her face in Ghost’s crotch, taking him as if that wasn’t a fucking challenge.

Soap barely manages to coax an orgasm out of her before he cums. He's so close his brain has turned to mush. She shudders against him, and he has to hold her up, feeling her pretty ass bump against him, always begging for more. He gives as much as he can, making her moan around Ghost’s cock so loudly that the woman behind the desk downstairs has definitely heard.

One last time, he grabs her hips tightly, cumming inside her, before he pulls out and leans back.

He gets to enjoy the view as she continues to suck off Ghost, his cum dribbling out of her cunt. His handprints are on her hips, already beginning to bruise. Ghost doesn’t take much longer before he comes too, holding her head down. Soap hears her choke, and it’s enough to make him hard again.

She collapses onto the bed next to him, sweatier than before and hair in tangles thanks to Ghost.

Soap takes the stringy towel Ghost gets him from the bathroom, wiping down her thighs and offering it to her for her face.

“No need.” She says with a proud smirk.

“God, stop. You’ll be in for another round otherwise.”

Ghost sits on the bed across from them before she waves him over. It’s barely enough space, but she manages to squeeze between them. Soap scratches her back carefully, and she purrs like a cat.

“Was that good for a first?” Soap finally asks.

“Oh no it was totally terrible.” She answers, her voice sarcastic. “It’s not like I came all over your dick.”

“Jesus.” Ghost manages, but Soap sees his massive hand already on her ass.

“Round two?” Soap asks, and she gives him an adoring smile. There’s a moment where he feels himself falling in love with her even more, and maybe even with Ghost, for taking care of his girl.

“Give me a moment.” She says finally. “But yeah, let’s go for a round two.”

#simon 'ghost' riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john 'soap' mactavish #john 'soap' mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #john mactavish x you #simon riley x john mactavish x reader #ghost x soap x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick #soap x reader #soap x you #simon riley x y/n #john mactavish x y/n

[alicedash2]

The "Terrible Killer" YN, who join the Straw hat crew

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

ah...YN was so terrible, so feared, she wandered the seas alone, no one knew YN's true identity, what did they know? only that she was a fearsome killer, she had killed a Tenryuubito when they tried to kidnap her when she was younger, she killed him and impaled the body of the man who abused her in the various areas, so her value for her head was enormous, she made chaos wherever she went, she didn't need much to do what the whole Navy could do...

but really, she's just a young lass who wanted some friends or to be part of some crew, she really didn't want to be alone anymore

on a certain island, she wandered, until she came close to an ordinary neighborhood restaurant, she saw a young 19-year-old boy wearing a straw hat, she knew who he was, she stepped inside, some people knew that nothing would happen if nothing was done to her, she sat next to and looked at the young boy desperately eating a plate of meat with rice and peas

-...- she look at him

the boy, whose name was Luffy, looked at her, he stared at her as he ate, they stared at each other

-....you...- Luffy started talking

they looked at each other again...

- you're the person there who killed a Tenryuubito, aren't you? the terrible killer...-

Luffy ate while talking, YN was a little uncomfortable, but ignored.

-....Yes...-

- hmmm...-

he would go back to eating, still looking at them, the people around would be kind of scared, trying to calm down and ignore

-...Luffy...?-

YN called him, he swallowed the food and paid attention

-...I know it's sudden...but, if I buy a plate of food for you, any plate you want, I posso...me gather your crew?- she said calmly, as much as she was fearsome, she had a genuine heart

- really?! Deal!-

Luffy smiled, It warmed YN's heart a little

"so easy..."-YN thought, a little surprised, so Luffy chose the dish, after Luffy ate, YN still paid for the previous dishes Luffy had eaten, he would not miss

- you're so cool, YN! and they say you are worse than Doflamingo or Kaido himself!- Luffy said

- and-I'm not like that! YN blushed a little

- the world government and the Navy like to exaggerate! but good, so no one disturbs me! - YN smile slightly

- oooh...we're here!-

Luffy says, arriving at Sunny, where he is greeted by the other crewmen, Luffy climbs up first

- guys, I brought a new crew member!- Luffy smiles, YN coming right behind, when everyone looks at YN, they are shocked, Zoro draws his sheath from his sword ready to attack

- stay away from her, Luffy!-

Robin said, sweating with nervousness and fear

- why?!-

Luffy was shocked to see some of his friends ready to attack

- she's a killer! but she's not just any kind of killer! do you know the damage it can do?! it is equivalent to what the world government could do! stay away from her! - Nami said, almost motionless

-...what? but...- Luffy looked back, staring at YN who was looking at them with a deadly look, smiling

- m..but..-

Luffy was trying to find something to talk about, but YN just gave a silly giggle and tuned his voice a little, trying to appear harmless

- how silly they are! - YN said, gesturing with she's hand

- I'm not doing anything to you! as long as they don't do anything to me...- YN said sweetly

everyone let their guard down for an instant, Usopp was arriving, when he looked at YN, screamed and fainted

- Oh...I didn't want that to happen!-

YN said softly, yes, YN is extremely strong, with she's reward a little more than Luffy, but in fact, YN was sweeter than sugar and sticky than honey

- Why Is She here, Luffy?-

Robin asked, Luffy looked at her

- ...we made a deal, she bought me a plate of food and I let her join the gang! -

Luffy smiled, Nami slapped her own face with her hand

- you're an idiot...Luffy! - Nami advances on Luffy, slapping and pulling his hair, while Luffy apologizes and begs her to stop

a few minutes later, everyone was at the dining table in the kitchen, deciding whether YN should stay on the crew or not, even Sanji, was nervous and suspicious...

YN pouted, wanted to join the gang, everyone was quiet except Sanji, who was standing, smoking

- good... why did you decide to join the crew, YN? - Nami asked

- w-well...it's just that I don't have a crew, and...everyone who ever tried to get in, always ran away, I tried to create my own gang, but I could not... - YN said kind of nervous, shy too

- and why just ours? - Nami specified

- I just happened to meet Luffy, so I took advantage of it... -

- ...I don't think it's safe...- Nami said, until YN took a small wooden box and opened it, revealing jewels and diamonds

- please, miss Nami! I need a crew! - YN said with a whiny tone

- AAAH! yeah, you can stay, you're younger than Luffy, right? my little sister...- Nami hugged her and blushed

Zoro sighed, knowing that he now has a new member

- I'm not what they say, it's serious! yes, I have done many things, but it has never been for evil! - YN said, she was just an 18-year-old girl who wanted some friends

- SUPEEER all right, welcome to the crew!- Franky said, smiling as Brook approached

- excuse me, miss YN, will you...can I see your panties?-- Nami kicked him away

little by little they accepted YN the crew, some were suspicious, especially Robin

-there's no point in just giving jewelry, I still don't agree,- Robin said softly.

- but you did the same thing! - Usopp said

- trust me, miss Robin! YN supplicava

Robin sighed, accepting, YN blushed and smiled, finally in a crew

YN's presence was very helpful in scaring and intimidating other pirates and sailors, YN is also playful, liked to entertain Luffy and others, always gifting Nami with jewelry and gold, giving sake to Zoro, and hanging out with Robin behind unread books,

- YN!- Luffya was knocking on YN's bedroom door

- YN! he'd shout, YN open the door

- Luffy, what is it? - She asked

- let's play! it's raining and there's nothing to do - Luffy said

"go play with Usopp or Chopper," she'd say.

- they don't want to, and I've already tried with Franky, he doesn't want to either-Luffy said, he without hesitation, walked into YN's room, they both sat on the bed

- Oh... - YN sighed

- ooh, you have a different way to decorate your room! - Luffy said, YN just ignored him

- Hey...- Luffy called her, getting her attention

- yeah?-

- ...why do they think you're so bad? like...you're cool! "I don't know why almost everyone runs away from you." - Luffy

- Oh...good.... YN hesitava

- when I was younger...a few years ago, I was captured by a Tenryuubito...-

YN said, Luffy listened intently

- e...I was tortured in various ways...but I managed to escape, but I had to do something drastic...-

-what did you do?-

- ...I killed...I killed a Tenryuubito...and I impaled his body so it was a warning...but...anyway...after that, I escaped on some random pirate ship, I don't remember...but, I began to wander the seas alone, I destroyed a few islands here and there...I did other things too...but anyway...because of this, I was alone for a few years until I found you, all the things I did was out of pure defense, I never wanted to hurt anyone, I just wanted to defend myself...but the government made me a murderer, so everyone ran away or tried to kill me...- YN said, Luffy had a serious expression

reminds me a little of Robin...Nami too...- Luffy said softly, he smiles sweetly, warming YN's heart again

- but, me and the staff know that you are a good person! you have proven that you really are not someone bad! - Luffys said, making YN blush

- I'm happy...didn't want to focus alone anymore-YN smile back

- but, I have many stories to tell, some funny and even scary -

YN was up

- if I'm so bored, I can tell you! - YN said with the same determined smile

- oooh! yeah! - Luffy gets up, they both walk to the dining table, where Alice tells more about her story and adventures

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#one piece #one piece x reader #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #mugiwara no luffy #luffy fluff #luffy #robin one piece #op nami #one piece nami #nami #nico robin