#halloween is over but i have all this candy...... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evansbby · 7 months

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𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sugar daddy!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sugar daddy Ari, age gap, smutt, daddy!kink, ab riding, dirty talk.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your sugar daddy decides to dress you up in a costume of his choice for Halloween.

𝐀/𝐍: Random spontaneous Halloween "drabble" that is 3.8k words long lol. Inspired by the hottest daddy of them all, Ari Levinson, and his gorgeous abs. Hence the gif. Enjoy! And Happy Halloween, despite the fact that this drabble is not spooky at all.

“Twirl for me again, princess.”

Ari leans back against the headboard of his king-sized bed, his blue eyes dark as navy as he brings his glass of scotch up to his lips and takes a sip. His gaze is stuck on you as he lounges relaxedly, still dressed in his suit from work. Well, you’d taken his jacket off and loosened his tie for him before he’d patted you on your bum and sent you to your dressing room to try on the new costume he’d got for you.

You’d only been seeing Ari for two months. And by “seeing” you meant you’d only been his sugar baby for about two months, when you’d met him at the cocktail bar where you worked as a waitress. He’d come by one night with a bunch of his colleagues (all of them in expensive suits, clearly extremely wealthy). That notion had been confirmed when he’d pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into your hand at the end of the night, his eyes looking at you expectantly as if he knew you’d give him your number.

You had, of course. What followed was two months filled with expensive gifts, a hefty weekly allowance, a new designer wardrobe, glittering jewels and some incredible sex to top it all off. You’d gotten to know Ari in many different ways these past sixty days. But what you didn’t know he was so big on Halloween.

Your “costume” was for Ari’s eyes only, as he’d warningly told you when he’d handed you the shopping bag. And there was no way you could’ve worn it anywhere else: the baby pink satin negligee barely reached mid-thigh, but it was so breathtakingly pretty, so dainty with the lacy white trim and matching satin white gloves. The back was almost completely exposed, showcasing the pretty pink lace panties you had on underneath (with a heart-shaped cut-out that exposed your bum). A sparkly tiara on your head completed the look.

He'd dressed you as his little princess.

“How come you don’t have a costume, Ari?” You ask as you twirl around for him slowly, trying not to topple over in the expensive white pumps he’d also made you wear.

Ari licks his lips, beckoning you closer with just a look. He’d trained you well in the two months he’d had you, moulding you into his perfect angel who leapt at his slightest command. It was easy, since you were so cute and innocent, and so happy to please him. All he had to do was look at you a certain way and you’d jump to obey him. He watches you closely now, looking so precious and hot in your little princess costume (or lingerie, rather) and your lips part as you eagerly move closer to him, almost tripping in your heels to do so.

He chuckles, “I’m too old to be dressing up for Halloween, sweetheart.”

You pout, “You’re not old, Ari! You’re just perfect!”

He can’t help but smile at your cuteness and naivety; he really had plucked up the prettiest and most innocent little girl with a heart of pure gold.

“That’s real sweet of you, baby. Now turn around and bend over for me so I can see that cute baby ass.” He takes another sip of his scotch. You’d made him his favourite drink the moment he’d walked into his penthouse apartment where you’d been waiting for him like the delectable little treat you were – sweeter than any Halloween candy, and he could ravage you forever without ever feeling sick.

You giggle, feeling slightly rebellious. You’d had a few sips of wine before he’d come home, your anticipations running high whilst you waited impatiently for him. He was like a drug to you, with his rugged good looks and muscular body and charming smile. You were also incredibly attracted to the power he wielded; Ari owned and was the CEO of multiple companies across the globe, and for the life of you, you couldn’t imagine how he’d ever decided to ask for your number that one fateful night two months ago.

“But Ari, since I’m a princess tonight, that means I’m royalty. Which means I don’t have to follow anyone’s orders but my own, right?” You smile triumphantly.

Ari looks infinitely amused as he runs his hand through his unruly hair, his other hand inching down to palm his clothed crotch.

“Little princesses like you still have to take orders from their daddy,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you teeter in your high heels. “Which, by the way, is what you should be addressing me as. You call me Ari one more time and I’ll take you over my knee. I don’t care if it’s Halloween.”

You pout harder, looking so extra cute that Ari has to pace himself from reaching over and grabbing you right then and there. He’s waited to dress you up in this costume for a while now, though, and he knows he needs to savour it.

“That’s a good little princess,” he murmurs in approval once you turn around and bend over, giving him the perfect view of your cute ass. “Look at those pretty little princess panties, hugging that cute baby ass. You like your panties, baby?”

“Y-Yeah,” you pant, and he knows you’re turned on by his words. “Thank you, daddy, I really like them.”

“You like being my little princess?”

“Yes, daddy. Wanna be your princess forever.”

Ari can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are, and when you say things like that, he just wants to gather you in his arms and plant a thousand kisses to your face, cuddle with you and buy you whatever you please. But he has to keep a strong resolve tonight, because he’s been waiting for an opportunity to ravage you in your princess costume for ages now, and he’s been working overtime at the office and he knows he deserves this.

“Daddy? Can I stop bending over now? It’s startin’ to hurt.”

Ari swirls his glass of scotch around absentmindedly, a wicked look crossing his face, “Soon, baby. First, I want you to spank yourself.”

You gasp, and then there’s a pause.

“M-Me? Spank myself?”

“You heard me, baby. I won’t repeat myself.”

You reach back gingerly, squeezing your eyes shut because you’ve got your back to him and you know he can’t see (usually, he always demands you keep your eyes open). You give your behind a tentative little slap, feeling embarrassed to say the least.

“Harder, sweetheart. How can you be a princess if you don’t have a firm hand?” You can hear the smugness in his voice, and it just turns you on more. You know your new princess panties are soaked through, and you wonder if he can tell.

“B-But I don’t wanna have a firm hand,” you whimper, already feeling very submissive. You like it when he spanks you (although it hurts but it hurts so good). But you spanking yourself? It’s embarrassing. It turns you on because you’re doing it for him, but it’s still embarrassing.

“Are you talking back to me, baby?” Ari’s eyes are hooded with lust as he openly palms his dick.

“Sorry, daddy,” you bite your lip before giving your ass another slap – harder this time. And Ari exhales slowly as he watches your ass jiggle cutely, and he commands you to hit yourself again, to not stop until he says so. And he watches you spank yourself, turned on beyond belief at your complete submission.

“Fuck, you have such a cute ass, baby. Squeeze it for me.” He orders you, voice gruff and strained because of how horny he is.

You obey, squeezing the soft flesh through your barely-there panties. Ari’s fingers itch to touch you himself, make you mewl with pleasure just with his touch the way only he could. Because he’s the only one who’s ever touched you like that, who ever would touch you like that. You were his baby, his little princess and he’d take care of you forever.

“Stop. Now come here.”

You swallow, straightening up to walk over to him, except he stops you again by just a look.

“No, baby. On your knees. Daddy wants you to crawl.”

You decide to test your luck one last time, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes, “But daddy, I’m supposed to be a princess and not a kitten. And princesses don’t crawl.”

Ari rolls his eyes, “You’ll do as I say. Baby princesses like you still need to obey their daddy because you’re not in charge, got that?”

“Y-Yeah, I got it.” You sink down to your knees and slink over to him, making sure to sway your hips as you crawl because you know he loves that. And you love how he looks at you darkly, his eyes so blown out with lust and want. As if he’s restraining himself from just grabbing you and fucking you. Because you know how virile he is, how high his sex drive is.

“That’s my good little girl,” he coos, making you feel all special. You stop at the foot of the bed and he reaches down, petting the top of your head, stroking your hair like you’re some kind of pet. Your sparkly tiara falls lopsided, but manages to stay on your head. But you like how he strokes you, you like how affectionate it feels, and so you nuzzle up into his palm, wanting him to stroke you some more.

Instead, he grabs a handful of your hair and yanks you up, manhandling you as if you’re his little baby, till he’s got you nestled on top of him, and you can feel his hard dick underneath you. A wicked look in his eye, he straightens your tiara before patting your cheek condescendingly.

“How’re you enjoying Halloween so far, princess?”

You mull over it, trying not to focus on his hard dick directly underneath your butt. “It’s nice. This is the first time in a few years that I’ve stayed in for Halloween, instead of going to a party.”

This was true, since being at college for the past two years meant that you always went out on Halloween.

“Oh yeah? You’d rather be at a frat party right now?” Ari’s hands land on your hips, grinding you down against his dick so that you’re effectively dry humping him. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head, and you made grabby hands at him but he holds you at bay.

“No, no, no!” You answer desperately, trying to lean forward to kiss him but he holds you in place firmly, “Would much rather be with you, daddy. I love you so much.”

Ari can feel his heart melting fast. You’re just so delectable and cute, blinking up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours. And it had been so easy for you to fall in love with him, you’d told him so only two weeks into your whirlwind romance. He’d taken you out on his private yacht, and he’d bought you the prettiest sailor outfit, and you’d clung to him because you were scared you might fall overboard because of how clumsy you were.

But you’d looked so pretty as the salty sea air rushed over your face, and how you just wouldn’t let go of his hand. You couldn’t stop smiling either, and when he’d kissed you on the deck, holding you firm against the railing as the sun set into the ocean behind you, that’s when you’d whispered it breathlessly against his lips. Like you couldn’t keep it in any longer: I love you.

You’d tried to tug away from him after that, embarrassed at how you’d let your inner feelings slip out so soon into your relationship with him. But you couldn’t help it, he just made you feel so safe, so alive, so wonderful, so you. You’d tried to make a hasty exit, making up an excuse that you had to make a phone call, and praying he hadn’t heard you whisper those three forbidden words…

But Ari had heard you, and his heart had swelled in a way he never thought it could. He’d entered this relationship with you because he needed someone to take care of, and well, you were so hot the night he’d first seen you. So pretty and innocent and lovely. And then he’d gotten to know you, and you were so lively, and made him feel so youthful, made him feel so powerful and important, made him feel like he had to protect you while you danced around his life and made him laugh and cheered him up the way only you could.

He’d held you tightly against him that night on the yacht, not letting you slip away as he’d cupped your beautiful face in his hands, and he’d told you that he loved you too, more than he’d ever loved anyone else. And the look on your face, that look of utter devotion and awe, like you had stars in your eyes – he wished he could bottle it up inside a jar and keep that look safe forever.

That’s how you’re looking at him now, in your cute little princess lingerie, and your lips are begging to be kissed. Ari can’t stand it any longer, and he grabs you by the back of the neck and pulls you down, pressing his lips on yours in a heady kiss.

“You’ve been waiting for tonight, haven’t you?” He breathes against your lips.

You swallow harshly and nod. Of course you had, the moment he’d texted you this morning telling you to be ready for him at his apartment when he got home. That was obvious code that he was going to ruin you tonight, and the pretty princess costume was just the cherry on top of the cake.

Biting your lip, you shyly untuck his shirt from his pants and lift it up, revealing his toned, hairy abs. God, he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen – with an amazing, buff body that was twice the size of yours. He was bigger than you in every single way possible, and you sigh as your fingers run over the deep ridges of his tanned six pack.

Ari snorts, “Like what you see, princess?”

“Uh huh. You’re so hot.” You blurt out.

“Thank you, baby. Why don’t you give me your panties?”

The way he so casually redirects the conversation has your cheeks feeling hot and your pussy clenching in anticipation. Taking your panties off while straddling his crotch proves to be difficult, but you’re nimble enough to make it work. The lace is wet with your juices and your cheeks heat up even more as you hand your panties to him.

Ari brings the lacy material up to his nose, sniffing in your pretty scent. God, he wanted to be buried with your scent if it was possible. He can’t help but find the gusset, sucking the silk into his mouth and tasting your juices.

“You’re so sweet, princess.” He mutters, before shoving the panties in his pocket.

“I’m all wet, daddy,” you pout, knowing your wetness has seeped over to stain his pants as you sit on top of his crotch.

“Oh yeah?” Ari feigns disinterest, busying himself with another sip of his scotch. “Is your little baby cunt getting needy?”

“Yeah!”

“You want daddy to take care of her? Your little cunt?”

You throb at his words, “Yes, please!”

He makes no move to put his scotch away. “I think I’d rather watch you, princess. You can rub yourself on me to make yourself cum.”

You shudder at how casually he says it, but at the same time bite your lip, “B-But daddy, I feel so empty down there. Need you inside me, pretty please?”

Ari pretends to mull over it, “I don’t know, gorgeous, your baby pussy’s awfully tight. I don’t think I’d even get a finger in.” (That was true, you were super tight, but he could work you open in a matter of minutes. He always did, after all, but he wants you to work for an orgasm tonight).

You grab his hand and push it between your legs, feeling like you’re about to go into heat by how turned on you are. “Y-You could stretch me open, daddy, I-I don’t mind! Just wanna feel you inside me.”

“Maybe later, sweetie,” Ari murmurs, indulgently brushing your hair off your face and pulling your cheek when you pout. Of course, he definitely intended to fill you up real good, fuck both your holes silly with his cock and his tongue and his fingers. But the night was still young, and right now he wanted a show while he enjoyed his drink. “C’mon, baby, it’s Halloween. Even a princess has to work a little to get her treat.”

He picks you up by your waist, placing you on his hairy abs, which are rock hard just like his cock which is still in the confines of his pants.

You grab on to his shoulders to steady yourself, before you start moving. And oh, it feels absolutely heavenly, your quivering pussy rubbing against his hard abs, the hair on his torso catching against your swollen clit and immediately making you moan.

“F-Feels so good, daddy,” you whimper, and it makes Ari smile at how cute you are. How much you love it when he makes you feel good, how you selfishly chase after your own pleasure whenever you can because he knows it’s never felt this good for you before. You don’t have to tell him that he’s the best you’ve ever had – he can see it in your eyes every time.

“Yeah? Is your cute baby cunt getting some relief? You enjoy using your daddy like this?” He mutters lowly, pinching your hip to make you move faster as he takes another sip of his scotch. His cock is incredibly tight still confined to his pants, and he’d have loved for you to grind against his cock instead but he knows he would’ve blown his load because of the friction paired with how hot you look right now.

“You enjoy dressing up like a little princess and giving your daddy a show?” He continues, feeling the beast inside him awaken as you whimper so cutely on top of him. With his fingers gripping your hip tightly, he roughly drags you back and forth over his abs, “That’s right, slutty baby, make a mess all over daddy, you like that, don’t you?”

“Yes!” You cry, getting to that point where everything that leaves your mouth is either a plea or incoherent gibberish and crying. That’s when you get so submissive that there isn’t a single thought in your head, and Ari’s sure he could make you do absolutely anything when you’re in that mindset.

His stomach is wet with your cream, and you’re grinding against him desperately now, and he knows you’ll cum any second because it doesn’t take much to get you to cum. He remembers doing this a lot with you in the early days of the relationship, when he knew for a fact you’d need a lot of prep before you could take his big, fat dick inside your pussy. So he’d made you grind on his torso instead, like how you were doing now, as a sort of practice before the real sex. And it’s like you’d never been pleasured before in your life because you came so quickly, over and over again, squirting all over him and begging for him to put it inside you.

Clearly, nothing had changed in two months.

He downs his scotch before setting the glass aside on his bedside table. Then he licks his lips, hand slipping down between your legs. He spreads your folds and you gasp, rocking your hips faster as you feel more now, your clit rubbing deliciously against his abs.

“C’mon, princess,” he urges, moving you up and down on his abs harder, “make yourself cum, baby, squirt all over daddy like the good little girl I know you can be. Like all good princesses squirt on their daddies. You wanna be a good princess, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do!”

“Say it, then.”

“W-Wanna be a good princess for you, daddy. Wanna be so good!” Your face is glistening with sweat and tears, and you’re working so hard for your release. He knows all he has to do is rub your clit once or twice, or even just press against it and you’d cum. But he wants you to work for it, so he can praise you for it and then reward you for making yourself cum with minimal help from daddy.

“You’re daddy’s sexy little princess,” Ari murmurs lowly, pulling you down by the neck till your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you bite at his skin and cry and moan his name as he talks, “you’re doing such a good job, baby, rubbing that baby cunt all over daddy’s abs. You’re so good for me, baby, so fucking good and I love you so much. Daddy loves you so much, honey. More than anything in the world.”

You squirt all over his stomach, your sweet cream covering ever ridge and dip of his muscular torso. You cry and cry, like how you often do when you’re overwhelmed when orgasming, grabbing at his face and kissing him, and he kisses you back fervently, allowing you to make out with him because he knows how overwhelmed and good you feel.

“That’s such a good girl,” he praises you, rubbing your back as you quiver in his arms, and he can feel your pussy quivering too, “such a good fucking girl, you worked so hard, baby and I’m so proud of you.”

“L-Love you so much, daddy,” you whimper pitifully, your poor tiara finally falling off your head, and Ari wants to chuckle at how spent you look, how exhausted you look from rubbing your pussy on him for a couple of minutes. He reminds himself to get you a bottle of water in a few minutes once you’ve calmed down, because he knows he’ll be keeping you busy for the better part of tonight and he wants you to have the energy for it.

But for now, he’ll let you rest for a few minutes. You snuggle up into his chest, breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. Ari pours himself another scotch, and lights up his cigar, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke out in your direction.

“Happy Halloween, sweetheart,” he grins wickedly, and you lift your head up slightly to offer him a weak smile. “Now put your tiara back on, princess. The night’s not over yet.”

AKSHDSAJGA WHAT DO YOU THINK???? PLEASE LET ME KNOW THIS WAS EXTREMELY SPONTANEOUS AFNKLAGNSKAL I JUST AM OBSESSED WITH SUGAR DADDY ARI AND HIS ABS BYE.

anyways lemme know what you think and pls do reblog and leave any feedback thank you ily

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #sugar daddy ari

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sundrop-writes · 3 months

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How would Spencer react to the f!reader eating a sucker in a very provocative way during a meeting?

I decided to change this up a bit. Rather than it being during a meeting, it's just randomly around the office because eating a sucker/lollipop during a meeting would be annoying af.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

How would Spencer Reid react to you teasing him with a lollipop?

Warnings: reader can definitely be interpreted as gender neutral because there isn't much description of them beyond their mouth (sorry if that isn't what you wanted lmao); this is very sensual/smutty toned (but there is no sex scenes); Spencer is thinking about sex acts/is having sexual fantasies about the reader; heavy sexual innuendo; definitely leans more toward Sub!Spencer; I was thinking of S4/S5 Spencer when I wrote this but you can imagine any Spencer; background Morcia; implications of Spencer masturbating in the bathroom at work. Reader loves teasing Spencer - idk what else. Not really proofread.

"Oooh, what's this?" You asked, walking up to see a large bowl of candy sitting in the middle of Morgan's desk.

"Leftovers from Halloween." Prentiss explained, not looking up from the file that she was reading. "Of course, Garcia put them on Morgan's desk. What was it that she said?"

"A little something sweet for my something sweet." JJ recited the words from her place at the coffee machine with a laugh.

"Oh, he is gonna love that when he comes in." You chuckled.

You knew that he wasn't going to eat all of it himself, and Garcia likely intended it as a pick-n-go for the office anyway - so you took a careful glance into the bowl and then picket an appealing round lollipop. A blow-pop, you quickly realized. Very nice. You knew the gum in the middle was crappy, but you would have fun seeing how long it would take to get to it, and it was cherry flavoured - one of your favourite candy flavours.

You grabbed it up and a few others to slip into your desk drawers, along with taking a few packets of M&Ms for your favourite desk neighbour. When you walked over to your desk that was in front of his, you tossed the candy so that it hit the front of his chest, and Spencer jumped violently, having been scared right out of his concentration from whatever he was reading. A thick academic paper, from the looks of it.

You heard Emily's nasel chuckle in from behind you at how hard he had jumped.

"Good morning." You greeted him with a wide smile as he glared at you, but took the candy and began opening it anyway.

"Yeah." He scoffed.

"You're welcome." You also said, nodding toward the candy in his hand.

"Did you know that M&Ms shortly after their creation, M&Ms were exclusively distributed to the US military during World War II as a part of soldier's rations?" Spencer stated, giving another one of his 'fun facts'.

"Due to the candy coating making them far less perishable, and far easier to transport due to the fact that they were less likely to melt. At the time, they were packaged in cardboard tubes and featured a violet colour among the candies. And that's how they became famously known as 'the candy that melts in your mouth, not in your hand'." Spencer explained, the last words becoming muffled as he stuffed some of the candy into his mouth.

"And now they have gone from feeding soldiers to being the breakfast of a skinny little genius like you." You joked, unwrapping your lollipop and raising it to your lips.

You were one of the people who joked about it, but you secretly loved the fact that he was skinny. You would never tell, but you imagined pinning him down and him not being able to get away because of his lack of muscle.

Spencer would have made some clever reply, but instead, his eyes became locked on your lips.

Watching your lips gently wrap around the roundness of the lollipop immediately sparked something in him. From that moment, his eyes focused on nothing but your mouth, and he absolutely lost all train of thought - including the fact that he had been reading something before you even sat down.

It wasn't even intentional at first. At first, you were just enjoying a random sweet treat at seven o'clock in the morning, going about small things like taking off your jacket and getting the files organized on your desk, and when you looked up to ask Reid if he had a spare red pen that you could use to mark off some things - that was when you noticed it.

That far off, glassy look in his eye that you had never seen before.

He was staring at your lips, hard, clearly not even realizing that he was doing it - at this point, the candy had just barely stained the inner part of your mouth red, and he was being driven insane, imagining himself running his thumb or even the head of his leaking cock along that spot, feeling the pure softness of your lips, having your sweet tongue reach out to meet the throbbing head of his-

"Reid?"

The sudden sound of your voice seemed to shake him from this daydream.

You pulled the lollipop from your mouth with a wet smack, and he swallowed a whimper - it was a sound so subtle that you wouldn't have been able to hear it if you hadn't been carefully listening. You clenched your jaw, suppressing a smirk. You didn't want him to know that he had been caught. Not yet.

"Um - ah - yeah?" He stuttered out, quickly looking back down at the papers in the middle of his desk, trying not to make it seem like he had been staring at you so blatantly.

"Can I borrow a red pen?" You asked, trying to give him your best look of feigned innocence as you placed the cherry red bulb back to your lips while waiting for his answer, gently tracing your tongue around it.

You loved the way his eyes clung to this action like a magnet, his own lips dropping open slightly as he let out a hot breath in awe, his pupils blown wide.

His pants were suddenly very tight.

Spencer had to purposefully tear his eyes away from your mouth when you began oh-so-slowly teasing the lollipop in and out of your lips, forcing him to perfectly picture the round head of his cock fucking between those perfect cherry lips.

He frantically looked around his desk, and grabbed the first pen with a red cap that he could find.

"Here you go." He mumbled, tossing it onto your desk, not even bothering to hand it to you.

He then grabbed his messenger bag from underneath his desk and so subtly placed it at his front while he scrambled off toward the bathroom. You simply let out a laugh and then shoved the candy into your mouth fully, looking back down at your files and getting to work.

Spencer could only pray that you would be done with the lollipop by the time he got back.

A/N: Okay this definitely turned more into the style of a blurb, but what I love about writing requests right in my inbox is that I don't need to do a super defined style, I can just write whatever comes off the top of my head and I don't have to worry about over-editing stuff. It's great for creativity and it's almost like a writing exercise? Anyway, I had a lot of fun with this.

Criminal Minds Masterlist

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

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months

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I assure you, an AI didn’t write a terrible “George Carlin” routine

There are only TWO MORE DAYS left in the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

On Hallowe'en 1974, Ronald Clark O'Bryan murdered his son with poisoned candy. He needed the insurance money, and he knew that Halloween poisonings were rampant, so he figured he'd get away with it. He was wrong:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ronald_Clark_O%27Bryan

The stories of Hallowe'en poisonings were just that – stories. No one was poisoning kids on Hallowe'en – except this monstrous murderer, who mistook rampant scare stories for truth and assumed (incorrectly) that his murder would blend in with the crowd.

Last week, the dudes behind the "comedy" podcast Dudesy released a "George Carlin" comedy special that they claimed had been created, holus bolus, by an AI trained on the comedian's routines. This was a lie. After the Carlin estate sued, the dudes admitted that they had written the (remarkably unfunny) "comedy" special:

https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/01/george-carlins-heirs-sue-comedy-podcast-over-ai-generated-impression/

As I've written, we're nowhere near the point where an AI can do your job, but we're well past the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

AI systems can do some remarkable party tricks, but there's a huge difference between producing a plausible sentence and a good one. After the initial rush of astonishment, the stench of botshit becomes unmistakable:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/jan/03/botshit-generative-ai-imminent-threat-democracy

Some of this botshit comes from people who are sold a bill of goods: they're convinced that they can make a George Carlin special without any human intervention and when the bot fails, they manufacture their own botshit, assuming they must be bad at prompting the AI.

This is an old technology story: I had a friend who was contracted to livestream a Canadian awards show in the earliest days of the web. They booked in multiple ISDN lines from Bell Canada and set up an impressive Mbone encoding station on the wings of the stage. Only one problem: the ISDNs flaked (this was a common problem with ISDNs!). There was no way to livecast the show.

Nevertheless, my friend's boss's ordered him to go on pretending to livestream the show. They made a big deal of it, with all kinds of cool visualizers showing the progress of this futuristic marvel, which the cameras frequently lingered on, accompanied by overheated narration from the show's hosts.

The weirdest part? The next day, my friend – and many others – heard from satisfied viewers who boasted about how amazing it had been to watch this show on their computers, rather than their TVs. Remember: there had been no stream. These people had just assumed that the problem was on their end – that they had failed to correctly install and configure the multiple browser plugins required. Not wanting to admit their technical incompetence, they instead boasted about how great the show had been. It was the Emperor's New Livestream.

Perhaps that's what happened to the Dudesy bros. But there's another possibility: maybe they were captured by their own imaginations. In "Genesis," an essay in the 2007 collection The Creationists, EL Doctorow (no relation) describes how the ancient Babylonians were so poleaxed by the strange wonder of the story they made up about the origin of the universe that they assumed that it must be true. They themselves weren't nearly imaginative enough to have come up with this super-cool tale, so God must have put it in their minds:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/29/gedankenexperimentwahn/#high-on-your-own-supply

That seems to have been what happened to the Air Force colonel who falsely claimed that a "rogue AI-powered drone" had spontaneously evolved the strategy of killing its operator as a way of clearing the obstacle to its main objective, which was killing the enemy:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/04/ayyyyyy-eyeeeee/

This never happened. It was – in the chagrined colonel's words – a "thought experiment." In other words, this guy – who is the USAF's Chief of AI Test and Operations – was so excited about his own made up story that he forgot it wasn't true and told a whole conference-room full of people that it had actually happened.

Maybe that's what happened with the George Carlinbot 3000: the Dudesy dudes fell in love with their own vision for a fully automated luxury Carlinbot and forgot that they had made it up, so they just cheated, assuming they would eventually be able to make a fully operational Battle Carlinbot.

That's basically the Theranos story: a teenaged "entrepreneur" was convinced that she was just about to produce a seemingly impossible, revolutionary diagnostic machine, so she faked its results, abetted by investors, customers and others who wanted to believe:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theranos

The thing about stories of AI miracles is that they are peddled by both AI's boosters and its critics. For boosters, the value of these tall tales is obvious: if normies can be convinced that AI is capable of performing miracles, they'll invest in it. They'll even integrate it into their product offerings and then quietly hire legions of humans to pick up the botshit it leaves behind. These abettors can be relied upon to keep the defects in these products a secret, because they'll assume that they've committed an operator error. After all, everyone knows that AI can do anything, so if it's not performing for them, the problem must exist between the keyboard and the chair.

But this would only take AI so far. It's one thing to hear implausible stories of AI's triumph from the people invested in it – but what about when AI's critics repeat those stories? If your boss thinks an AI can do your job, and AI critics are all running around with their hair on fire, shouting about the coming AI jobpocalypse, then maybe the AI really can do your job?

https://locusmag.com/2020/07/cory-doctorow-full-employment/

There's a name for this kind of criticism: "criti-hype," coined by Lee Vinsel, who points to many reasons for its persistence, including the fact that it constitutes an "academic business-model":

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

That's four reasons for AI hype:

to win investors and customers;

to cover customers' and users' embarrassment when the AI doesn't perform;

AI dreamers so high on their own supply that they can't tell truth from fantasy;

A business-model for doomsayers who form an unholy alliance with AI companies by parroting their silliest hype in warning form.

But there's a fifth motivation for criti-hype: to simplify otherwise tedious and complex situations. As Jamie Zawinski writes, this is the motivation behind the obvious lie that the "autonomous cars" on the streets of San Francisco have no driver:

https://www.jwz.org/blog/2024/01/driverless-cars-always-have-a-driver/

GM's Cruise division was forced to shutter its SF operations after one of its "self-driving" cars dragged an injured pedestrian for 20 feet:

https://www.wired.com/story/cruise-robotaxi-self-driving-permit-revoked-california/

One of the widely discussed revelations in the wake of the incident was that Cruise employed 1.5 skilled technical remote overseers for every one of its "self-driving" cars. In other words, they had replaced a single low-waged cab driver with 1.5 higher-paid remote operators.

As Zawinski writes, SFPD is well aware that there's a human being (or more than one human being) responsible for every one of these cars – someone who is formally at fault when the cars injure people or damage property. Nevertheless, SFPD and SFMTA maintain that these cars can't be cited for moving violations because "no one is driving them."

But figuring out who which person is responsible for a moving violation is "complicated and annoying to deal with," so the fiction persists.

(Zawinski notes that even when these people are held responsible, they're a "moral crumple zone" for the company that decided to enroll whole cities in nonconsensual murderbot experiments.)

Automation hype has always involved hidden humans. The most famous of these was the "mechanical Turk" hoax: a supposed chess-playing robot that was just a puppet operated by a concealed human operator wedged awkwardly into its carapace.

This pattern repeats itself through the ages. Thomas Jefferson "replaced his slaves" with dumbwaiters – but of course, dumbwaiters don't replace slaves, they hide slaves:

https://www.stuartmcmillen.com/blog/behind-the-dumbwaiter/

The modern Mechanical Turk – a division of Amazon that employs low-waged "clickworkers," many of them overseas – modernizes the dumbwaiter by hiding low-waged workforces behind a veneer of automation. The MTurk is an abstract "cloud" of human intelligence (the tasks MTurks perform are called "HITs," which stands for "Human Intelligence Tasks").

This is such a truism that techies in India joke that "AI" stands for "absent Indians." Or, to use Jathan Sadowski's wonderful term: "Potemkin AI":

https://reallifemag.com/potemkin-ai/

This Potemkin AI is everywhere you look. When Tesla unveiled its humanoid robot Optimus, they made a big flashy show of it, promising a $20,000 automaton was just on the horizon. They failed to mention that Optimus was just a person in a robot suit:

https://www.siliconrepublic.com/machines/elon-musk-tesla-robot-optimus-ai

Likewise with the famous demo of a "full self-driving" Tesla, which turned out to be a canned fake:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/tesla-video-promoting-self-driving-was-staged-engineer-testifies-2023-01-17/

The most shocking and terrifying and enraging AI demos keep turning out to be "Just A Guy" (in Molly White's excellent parlance):

https://twitter.com/molly0xFFF/status/1751670561606971895

And yet, we keep falling for it. It's no wonder, really: criti-hype rewards so many different people in so many different ways that it truly offers something for everyone.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

Image:

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Ross Breadmore (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/rossbreadmore/5169298162/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic #ai #absent indians #mechanical turks #scams #george carlin #comedy #body-snatchers #fraud #theranos #guys in robot suits #criti-hype #machine learning #fake it til you make it #too good to fact-check #mturk #deepfakes

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strang3lov3 · 7 months

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Halloween Special

Summary: You dress up as Joel for Halloween, and Tommy helps you enhance your costume. Joel fucking hates your costume. God, you're annoying.

Warnings: smut, arguing, oral (f receiving) male masturbation, joel jerks himself off while eating u out, southern phrases, unprotected piv, rough sex, Joel stuffs your mouth with part of his costume to shut you up, creampie, secret Ron Swanson (Joel dresses up like a pirate the way Ron Swanson does), yee haw mothafuckas

A/N: This story absolutely can be read as a standalone, but if you like these two and would like to see more of their antics, they the Mall Rats and you can read more about them in my masterlist ! thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️❤️ btw it is my birthday🎂🎉🥳i'm 21 today! And if you were feeling so inclined i wouldn't say no to some birthday wishes <3

“Why do all of these women’s costumes look like they’re from Victoria’s Secret?”, you ask as you and Joel rifle through the pile of twenty year old Halloween costumes. You’ve just gotten back from an old Spirit Halloween store with Joel, and now you’re sorting through costumes for the people of Jackson at his house. Some are salvageable and in good condition, some are old and moldy.

Halloween doesn’t make much sense post-apocalypse. If there’s any candy left, it’s all rotten. It’s not practical for kids to trick-or-treat for baked goods and apples, the few sweets Jackson has to offer. So instead, Maria and Tommy are hosting a Halloween potluck at their home. All are invited and encouraged to dress up, bring food. The party’s tonight.

“Who knows,” Joel mumbles, “Just how it was.”

“Did you dress all slutty too?”

“‘Course I did. Turned all kinds of tricks back in my prime.”

“Then here–”, you toss Joel a nurse costume, “Be a slutty nurse for the party.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

You snicker to yourself as you sort the piles. You’ve got girls’ and boys’ costumes sorted by size, and along with mens’ and women’s. “What are you gonna dress up as, then?”

“I dunno. Do I have to?”, Joel asks, “I don’t even wanna go.”

“Too bad, you have to. And you have to dress up, too. It’s mandatory.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “What are you going as, then?” you shrug in response. Joel tosses you a costume, the guy in the picture seemingly wearing a sort of hat shaped like a thumb. “Knucklehead’, it reads. So fucking stupid. “Get it?”

“Ha-ha,” you throw the costume back in his direction. The costumes are all sorted now, so Joel bags up each pile to take to Maria. “Do you want any help with those bags?” you ask.

“Nah, I got it. Thanks, though.”

“Will I see you tonight?”

“Depends. How slutty you dressin’?” Joel opens the door and grabs the bags of costumes.

“You know, the usual. Lingerie and cat ears.”

“Mmm. Definitely stayin’ home, then. Get the door for me?” Joel asks as he’s standing in the doorway with the bags in his hands.

“Sure,” you nod. And as Joel leaves and you shut his door, his flannel draped over a chair catches your eye. You have the best costume idea.

–

You get to Maria and Tommy’s around six. Tommy greets you at the door, hair slicked back and wearing a cape, his usual toothy grin enhanced by plastic fangs. There’s red makeup resembling dripping blood from the corners of his mouth. “Hey you,” he says. “What do we have here?”

You clear your throat and speak in a lower affectation, “Shut up and quit smilin’,” before breaking into a fit of giggles.

Tommy laughs too. “Joel?”

“Bingo,” you reply. You’re wearing Joel’s flannel and a simple pair of jeans, with an exaggerated scowl.

“Costume is spot on, ‘cept for one thing,” you raise your eyebrows and Tommy continues, “You’re much easier on the eyes than he is.”

“Oh, stop it,” you blush and smack his arm. “Speaking of, Joel here yet?”

“Oh, yeah. Off in the kitchen or something. He’s gonna hate your costume, darlin’. Absolutely fuckin’ hate it.”

“Good, that was the plan,” you smile mischievously.

“I like how you roll, sister,” Tommy drawls. “An’ in fact…” Tommy looks around himself before moving a hand to your waist and stealthily guiding you to a nearby bedroom, his baby’s nursery.

“What are we doing, Tommy?”

“Shh, be cool, be cool,” Tommy tells you. He loves your costume, but he’s got an idea. A great idea, a way to improve it. He picks up a bottle of baby powder from the changing table and sits you down, then sprinkles some in your hair and combs it through with his fingers. “Now we’re cookin’,” he says. “Gotta get you that silver fox look, like Joel.”

“Ahh,” you hum in agreement. Should have thought of that one. That’s good.

“And–” Tommy continues, “You gotta talk like him too. You know how to do that?”

“Sure,” you clear your throat and speak in a low tone again, mocking Joel. “Fuck this, fuck that, fuck you–”

“Oh, very close,” Tommy laughs, “Nah, you gotta get southern on his ass, sweetheart. You know what I’m sayin’?” you shake your head no. “That’s okay. M’gonna teach ya.”

Tommy spends the next ten minutes running through a list of southern words and phrases, teaching you how to speak in a southern accent. At the end, you’re both in a fit of giggles. “God, sweetheart, I love ya. Joel’s gonna shit a brick.”

You come out of the nursery with Tommy and make your way into the kitchen where Joel’s sitting. He’s at the counter, alone, snacking on some carrot cake. You’re still trying to compose yourself, biting your lip to hide your smile. “Howdy, pardner.”

“Uh, hi,” Joel eyes you and Tommy suspiciously. He does not like the way you’re both smiling, definitely causing trouble. “The hell are you two so happy about?”

“Nothin’.” you say, looking at Tommy. He subtly nods in approval. Don’t pronounce the ‘ing’ at the end of those words. It’s ‘In’. Nothing, nothin’. Fucking, fuckin’. Something, somethin’. “Uh, Joel, what’s your costume?”

“What’s it look like? I’m a pirate,” he grumbles. He’s got an…interesting take on a pirate costume. He’s wearing a plain button down shirt, striped pajama bottoms, and a long red tie tied around his tummy. You’re pretty sure there was a men’s pirate costume in the pile that you had sorted from earlier.

Tommy brushes your hair from your ear and whispers something. You smile, then speak to Joel. “Well, don’t you look cuter than a dimple on a bug’s ass.”

“Did you just have a stroke?” Joel squints at you, “Wait a fuckin’ second–that’s my shirt.”

You look down at your shirt in mock surprise, “Well slap butter on my ass and call me a biscuit! I guess it is your shirt, Joel!”

Joel’s blushing, redder than a tomato. His flannel is ill fitting, but to Joel, it looks perfect on you. He swallows thickly. You’ve got one less button closed than what he wears, and he’s fighting the urge to let his eyes fall lower. “Where did you even–never mind. You - I told you - God dammit, this ain’t–”

“This ain’t funny,” you interrupt, matching his tone perfectly.

Tommy’s giggling like an idiot next to you, then faces his palm up by his hip for a high five. You slap his palm and this enrages Joel, who glares at Tommy. “Don’t encourage this. The fuck is the matter with you?” Goddamn little brothers.

“What, don’t y’all like my costume? I’m you.”

“‘Course you are,” Joel grumbles. “Though a witch would be more fitting,” He looks at you closer, “What the hell is wrong with your hair?”

“I’m a silver fox just like you, Joel.”

Joel rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Do not call me that. I can’t even look at you right now. Jesus Christ.” He eats the last of his cake, then stomps off, away from you and Tommy.

“You,” a voice interrupts. It’s Maria, dressed as a black cat. She’s so cute. “You two are playing with fire. Tommy, leave this girl alone. Joel’s gonna wring her neck.”

Tommy shrugs. “It was her idea.”

Maria doesn’t care. She smacks Tommy upside the head and ushers him towards the living room leaving you all by yourself. Tommy turns back to you, busted, he mouths. So you look for Joel.

You make your way through the living room, check the porch. It’s only when you’re in a hallway that you feel a strong hand grip your forearm and drag you to the guest bedroom that you realize where Joel stormed off to. “What in tarnation?” you exclaim, and Joel locks the door. “This bedroom ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Shut up and take off your pants. Do it now,” he grunts. You smirk and begin unbuttoning your - Joel’s - shirt. “Pants,” he scolds you, annoyed. “You keep my shirt on for this.”

You quit unbuttoning the shirt, “Thought you don’t like my costume?”

“I don’t,” Joel replies. You can see the tent in his pants, how achingly hard he is. You smirk. He’s all pissed off and worked up, a brutal combination. Your favorite combination. All because you’re wearing his shirt. Not really, though. You know the gray hair and the southern accent are what’s really pissing him off. You wearing his shirt is just fine.

In a fit of giggles, you can barely get the words out, “You’re hard as a match–wait,” you pause, unable to control your laughter. You catch your breath before continuing, “Shit fire and save matches, you’re hard as a r–”

“Don’t have time for this,” Joel grumbles. In one fell swoop, he unbuttons your jeans and pulls them and your panties down your legs, tossing them elsewhere. He shoves you on the bed before kneeling at the edge, pulling you by your hips. The cold air has your skin erupting in goosebumps that are then soothed by his hot breath on your thighs, as he presses sloppy kisses into your skin. “You have no–” he kisses your other thigh, “Fuckin’ idea,” then drags his tongue up your soft flesh, “What you’re doin’ to me, wearin’ my shirt like that. M’gonna devour you, sweetheart.”

Joel startles you by licking a long, fat stripe right up your hot and slick core, groaning as he tastes you, “Fuck,” you moan, fingers carding through Joel’s hair. You know this is getting tired. Seriously. Time and place. But even with his head between your thighs, you can’t stop. You struck gold. “Heaven to Betsy, it seems I have a visitor!”

Joel sighs as he pulls away from your core and stares at you, unimpressed. “You done yet?”

“Darn tootin’,” You get no reaction from Joel. “Yes...I’m done.”

“So fuckin’ sick of you. S’not funny. I don’t talk like that.”

And he’s right back where he was. First he’s inhaling you, your sweet scent, he licks another long stripe up your pussy, his tongue soft and firm against your core. He drags his tongue through your folds, moaning into your skin and savoring the way you taste. He keeps one arm wrapped around your thigh while the other is pulling down his striped pajama bottoms just over his cock, the waistband resting beneath his balls. Joel spits on your pussy, then drags his thumb up and down your core, collecting the mixture on his fingertips before spreading it on his cock. He grips himself tight, stroking himself up and down as his tongue teases your entrance, exploring your sex.

You can feel his shoulder jerk with every movement of his hand on his cock. You wish you could see it, his shaft shiny with your slick and the head red and swollen.

“Good lord,” Joel whispers against you. He eats you like he’s starved, eyes closed and lips wrapped around your clit. His fingertips dig into your thighs at a bruising pressure, his nose is buried in the coarse hair that covers your mound. “Fuckin’ good…so fuckin’ good,” Your skin, your musk, your arousal. He’s addicted to it, addicted to the taste of your pleasure. And Christ, the way his flannel drapes over your stomach, peeking over the tops of your thighs. He could die a happy man right here, between your thighs.

“Joel,” you cry, rocking your hips against his face. You’re moving too much. He bites your thigh and holds you firmer, his bicep flexing against you under the soft fabric of his shirt.

He alternates between lapping at your dripping core, sucking your sensitive clit, and fucking you on his tongue. Whatever he wants to do to you, because this is his treat. His.

“Yeah Joel, right there,” you whimper. You can feel it in your thighs, your gut, that familiar closeness is back. Under Joel’s tongue, you’re unraveling, coming undone for him. “M’so close.”

“This ain’t about you,” he growls. “Y’got yer kicks already, didn’t you? Teasin’ me in your little getup. Pokin’ fun and bein’ mean t’me.”

“No, Joel, I wasn’t–”

“I don’t care, sweetheart,” Joel says softly as he works himself. You hear the slick sounds of his fist slapping against his skin. “I don’t care. This ain’t about you. M’doin’ this f’me. Don’t you dare come.”

But you do. Not out of defiance, not to piss him off further. You just can’t help yourself. The way he purrs and growls into your skin, the way his arm holds you in place so firm. And his tongue, working pure fucking magic against you. Your orgasm ripples through you violently, taking you by storm. It feels hot and electric, intense and overpowering. Generously, he works you through it, licking and lapping at you, pulling every ounce of pleasure from your body that he can get. Static rings in your ears and you’re limp, pliant on the bed, eyes closed in pure bliss.

When you finally open your eyes, you realize Joel is standing above you, breathing heavily. Cock still achingly hard in his fist. “You weren’t supposed to do that,” he breathes.

“It was an accident,” you reply.

“Accident, my ass.” You bite your lip to hide your smirk. Joel knows that look on your face. Mischief. He reads you like a book, knows that you’re not done with your little act as you pull him onto the bed, flip him on his back and mount him. He knows exactly what you’re planning. Something about saving a horse, riding a cowboy. Of course you are. God, you’re exhausting.

You reach between your bodies and line his head up with your entrance, then sink down on him. Slowly, savoring the way he stretches you out. It hurts. He didn’t use his fingers on you. But you’re committed to what you have planned.

“Joel,” you breathe, rocking your hips slowly against him. “I have something to tell you.”

“What could you possibly need to tell me now, motormouth?” That devious smirk on your face…he knows what you’re about to say, answering his own question. He rolls his eyes, exasperated, “For the love of god…Go on, then. Get it out of your system, numb nuts.”

“YEEEE HAWWW!” you squeal, and Joel lunges forward to wrap a hand over your mouth. He did not think you were gonna be that loud. The party’s loud, but not that loud. “Jesus Christ,” he hisses. “The fuck is the matter with you? You cannot scream like that…Christ almighty.”

He flips you over, pulls out of you and rips the tie off of his belly. “My fuckin’ turn, now. Drivin’ me to drink,” He stuffs it into in your mouth, “Can you breathe?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s unfortunate,” he retaliates. He wraps your legs around his waist and lines up with your entrance once more, burying himself to the hilt in a quick shove with his hips. You gasp, your voice muffled by his tie.

He finds his pace quickly, pistoning into you at a devastating pace. Hard and fast and deep, like you love. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” he pants. “You’re impossible. You know that? Impossible.”

You can’t smile, can’t speak. With your mouth stuffed full you can do is look at him with wide eyes, and all Joel can think is god, you have no business being so pretty and so fucking irritating at the same time. Joel’s shirt is buttoned halfway up your body and he watches your tits bounce under the fabric with every thrust of his hips. Your nipples taut and hard, the shirt falling away from your torso and framing your body just so, like you’re a painting, just for him.

“God,” Joel grunts. You wrap your legs tighter around him, hold his forearms that cage your head. You look into his eyes as he fucks you, his usual sparkling brown eyes nearly black with lust. And it might get you into trouble, but you need more. Need to feel him, taste him. Pulling the tie out of your mouth, you lift your head, kissing and sucking up his neck and all the way to his jaw and his cheek still slick with your own arousal. You taste yourself on his skin as you kiss his face, lips just centimeters away from meeting his own.

Joel makes all sorts of strangled noises as he pounds into you. His muscles tense and you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen inside you, and with his last few strong and deep thrusts, he spills into you. He comes hard, painting your walls with rope after rope of his hot seed.

He catches his breath on top of you as you trace lazy patterns into his back and his scalp, his head resting against the mattress. Completely drained of his energy. You can feel him going soft. “Joel, I need a rag or something before I make a mess on this bed.”

“Oh, yeah,” He looks up, raising his eyebrows when he sees his tie in his peripheral vision. He takes it,

“You weren’t s’posed to take this out of your mouth,” he says, “Least you stayed quiet for once. Maybe you could be quiet the rest of the night, hm?” he mumbles as he pulls out of you, wiping you down gently with the tie. He folds it up to keep the mess of his spend contained. “You do that for me?”

You smile. If only you weren’t all out of the sayings that Tommy taught you anyway. Joel helps dress you in your pants and underwear again, straightens out the buttons on your flannel. He tells you that you don’t have to give it back to him as you comb your fingers through his hair, taming it. “Joel?”

“Yeah, hon.”

“You really didn’t like my costume?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel smiles for the first time tonight, and exaggerates his own southern accent. “Bless your heart.”

You tilt your head, confused, “What’s that one?”

“What, Tommy didn’t teach you that one?” You mumble a no and Joel hums. “S’a classic.”

“What’s it mean?”

“Well, I’d tell you to ask Tommy but you’re not allowed to hang out with him anymore,” Joel says. “Fuckin’ corrupted you. An’ it’s a shame, ‘cause I was startin’ to like you. God, he’s an asshole,” he complains, “And you are too, for that matter.”

You smile to yourself, then kiss Joel’s cheek before getting up to leave. Before you open the door, you turn to Joel, “Your costume sucks, by the way. Not even close to a pirate.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he replies. “Now get lost, you.”

When you leave, Joel adjusts his clothes. He clutches his tie in his hand, then leaves the bedroom, crashing into someone. It’s Tommy, wearing a shit-eating grin. Joel sighs, “What’d you teach her now?”

Tommy smirks. “Nothin’,” then slaps Joel on the ass, and Joel turns beet red. “Yee-haw, cowboy.”

Please please please reblog, send me asks, comment, let me know what you thought! Love your thoughts. It keeps me going and motivated to write for you all.

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #mall rats #mall rats!joel #mall rats joel #halloween special #joel miller fic #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader

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floral-hex · 2 years

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Wow, I think this was my most uneventful Halloween ever. Not even a dozen kids came by. I only answered the door three times 😣 and I’ve got almost a full bowl of candy left. I made some coffee, put on The Thing, and zoned out until I got tired of waiting. It should be illegal to have Halloween on a Monday! What a bummer.

#I demand a do over!#seriously what the hell #where were all the kids in my neighborhood?#everybody else in the neighborhood has their lights off and no kids are walking around so I just give up #listen… how am I supposed to get my self-esteem boost from passing out candy if no one shows up!?#I love passing out candy and this was just such a let down #the government owes me an apology! Obama owes me an apology! Microsoft owes me an apology!#if this is satan’s holiday then she is doing a piss poor job of managing it!#satan is a woman btw right? you’ve seen Bedazzled with Brendan Fraser and Elizabeth Hurley right?#anyway…#my teenage brothers went to bed as soon as they came home from school #they had the right idea #fuck this monday bullshit. just go to sleep instead.#anyway if you had a good Halloween then hell yeah I’m happy for you #i love you. have some candy for me.#text

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nickfowlerrr · 7 months

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everybody talks

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, a bit of angst. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. nipple play. if i’m missing something that needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: almost 7.7k

notes: happy halloween 👻 so i had an idea for reclusive neighbor!bucky meeting reader when she stops by his house with a group of kids for trick or treating, and this is very much not that but i think it still works lol. also, i wrote this in a day? i don’t think i’ve ever written more than like 4k in a day before so, yay me!

i wanted to participate in @witchywithwhiskey’s horror movie hoe-a-thon but i decided so last minute and then thought the deadline was the 31st, but i absolutely read the guidelines wrong bc it was actually yesterday and i missed it lol. i’m linking her event still though bc i did use a quote prompt! 🖤

The loud shaking of the wobbly cart you grabbed in your hurry precedes you as you make your way through the ridiculously crowded grocery store. Normally you would have been mortified - probably would have left the cart and ventured off to grab what you needed sans basket - but you don’t have the time to be concerned about the looks you’re getting as you walk fast down the aisles.

When your sister asked you for help organizing a family halloween party, you didn’t realize she meant an actual little community family friendly party for the street she lived on.

You had gotten two frozen pizzas, a bag of candy, a case of soda, and some random bags of chips you were sure your nieces would love, just last night. That would have certainly been enough for you, your nieces, and both your sisters, but unfortunately, that wasn’t where the guest list ended.

The look on her face when you showed up to her house with just those few things would have been funny if she wasn’t already on the brink of a breakdown.

Her husband was out of town for work and she was doing all the halloween prep for Sid herself, thus why she enlisted your help with the party and your younger sister’s help for the trick or treating plans.

Before she could snap and completely lose her cool on you, you were already rushing to the front door, keys still in hand, promising you’d be back within the hour and she had nothing to worry about.

That’s how you found yourself among the crowd of the woefully unprepared this afternoon.

You loaded the cart with six more frozen pizzas, three family servings of the deli’s hot and ready fried chicken, two packs of halloween cupcakes, two more cases of soda, an extra case of water, and three boxes of capri suns before you started filling the cart with the halloween party snacks you found in the holiday section.

You were getting a workout as you pushed the basket, less shaky now thanks to the added weight, heading to the candy section to grab a few bags of whatever they had left.

You were distracted by the end cap display as you turned down the aisle and didn’t see the man standing right in front of you, accidentally running into him. Though, running into him sounds like an exaggeration. With how heavy your basket was, and how sturdy the man before you was, it was more like a bump - a love tap. He didn’t even really react to it aside from looking over briefly to you and your basket.

Even still, you apologized profusely, rambling an apology about not looking where you were going before you finally got an actual look at your victim.

Your words stopped almost abruptly when your eyes met with crystal blues. His stare was icy, but not cold, moreso piercing.

He blinked and broke your trance, offering you a shy smile before he looked away.

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, eyes fixed back on the shelves of candy.

He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a black crewneck sweatshirt, his hair was dark and down to just above his broad shoulders, and the stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him well. You didn’t realize you were staring again until he looked back up at you.

You forced yourself to smile then, ignoring the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and rising to your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you offered with a nervous laugh before you forced the cart behind where he stood to go onward.

You could have sworn you saw a blush rising to his cheeks as he smiled to himself, avoiding your gaze, but you weren’t entirely sure.

And you definitely didn’t have the time to ponder on it.

Instead, you began your own search of the shelves to find not only your nieces’ favorites, but your sisters’, too.

They were both working hard to make their kids’ halloween a good one, they deserved a little treat themselves when all the work was done. You, on the other hand, still single and child free, were planning on treating yourself all night. You were there to help, sure, but most of the work wouldn’t be done by you. You were looking forward to seeing them off to trick or treat and plopping down on your sister’s couch to watch movies for the rest of the night - handing out candy, of course, should any kids come by.

Once the party was set up and over, you’d be free for the night and you couldn’t wait.

You were lucky to find most of what you were looking for, but couldn’t seem to find the last kind of chocolates you wanted to get.

As your eyes scoured the shelves, you found yourself looking back over to where the handsome stranger still stood. His brows were furrowed as he held up two boxes of full size candy bars, seeming to be debating between the two.

The look of concentration on his face was endearing, you could almost chuckle at how serious in thought he seemed to be over candy.

You smiled to yourself, returning to your search. As your eyes left the man, traveling instead to the rows of candy in front of him, that was when you saw the bag you needed. In the section right where he was standing, because of course they’d be there.

He huffed in exasperation before you watched him drop both boxes of candy into his cart. He turned to head down the aisle in your direction and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you still standing there.

“Oh, sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I.”

“No, you’re fine!” You assured him as you left your basket, walking closer to him. “I just needed to grab this,” you said, looking up with the bag in hand. He hadn’t moved from where he stood as you approached, so you were inadvertently in his personal space - but he didn’t make any attempt to move from you. In fact, he looked almost frozen.

His bright eyes were on you, one hand on his cart, the other clenched by his side. He seemed to go a bit ridge at your proximity, like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he relaxed after a second after seeing your soft smile, blinking at you as his cheeks burned.

You quickly backed away, hoping to not make him more uncomfortable and to not embarrass yourself further.

You grabbed onto your cart and looked his way once more, meeting his eye again as his sights were already on you.

You smiled shyly, “Sorry, again, for hitting you,” you offered, “happy halloween.”

He didn’t respond verbally, but he did give you a small nod of acknowledgement.

Your smile grew tighter before you turned and made for the check out, sighing as you rolled your eyes at yourself, mentally chastising yourself for being such an awkward inducing mess.

The lines were long and as you waited, you had to field a call from your sister, promising her you were checking out and would be back at her house soon.

You finally got through the line and were on your way out the sliding door when your cart almost crashed into another. You gasped as you pulled at your cart to stop, the heavy weight carrying it forward, its momentum causing it to almost ram right into the cart beside it.

The doors were only big enough for one cart to go through at a time, so you looked up to offer whoever it was you almost crashed into the lead.

It was your turn for your eyes to widen as you once again were met with those piercing blues.

“I am so sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear,” you laughed nervously, backing up a bit so he’d have room to go through the doors. “Go for it,” you said.

He shook his head, “Please,” he gestured for you to go in front, “ladies first.”

Had you not been in a hurry, you would’ve argued that he should go ahead, but seeing as your phone was lighting up with messages from your erratic sister, you smiled and pushed on forward. “Thank you,” you breathed.

You were trying not to pay attention as he followed behind you, but when you got to your car, halting your basket at your trunk, you couldn’t help but notice as he stopped next to you.

You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. He smiled this time, popping his trunk, “What are the odds?”

You tittered, not knowing how to respond. You couldn’t help your smile though as you turned back to your trunk and started putting the bags in.

He himself didn’t have much in the way of bags, and was finished putting his stuff away and taking his cart back by the time you were halfway done putting your stuff in your car.

You saw as he approached his door from your peripheral, and looked up and over in his direction as he abruptly stopped just before he was about to pull open his door.

For a second, he looked like he was about to turn around but then thought better of it, reaching for the door handle again before pulling away once more.

He squeezed his car keys in his hand before he turned back around, completely this time. You blinked at him, in a bit of a stupor as he came up to you. You waited for him to speak as he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it, taking a breath, then anxiously licking his lips.

“I’m Bucky,” he introduced himself a bit stiffly before his lip quirked up in a nervous half smile. Your brows raised of their own volition before you gave him your name in turn.

He seemed to be relieved by your reply, as if he was worried you would have ignored him, before he took another step closer to your car. “Can I give you a hand?”

“Oh, uhm, sure. That’d be great, thanks.”

“Big plans for the night?” he asked as he slid the packs of soda and the water into the car.

“My sister is hosting a little halloween party for the families on her street before they head out trick or treating tonight, I’m helping her out with setup and food. But after that,” you sighed, putting a few more bags in, “I’m planning on just watching movies between trick or treaters. Nothing crazy. You?” you asked, looking over to him.

“I’m planning pretty much the same. I don’t know how many trick or treaters to expect, I’m new to the neighborhood and… maybe haven’t been the friendliest neighbor,” he cringed to himself as he grabbed the boxes of juice. “But I got the full size candy bars, so…”

“Sprung for the full size, huh? I’m sure those kids’ll love it. You’ll be the talk of the block,” you joked.

His chuckle had you smiling so hard you had to bite your lip to keep from looking like an idiot.

Bucky took the last of the bags from you and set them carefully down before he closed the trunk for you. You were hanging onto the cart, waiting to say bye before you walked it to its home, as he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets before he spoke. He had that anxious look on his face again, his eyes down at the ground while he licked his lips mindlessly before he met your eye.

“I, uhm,” he seemed to register where his hands were then and took them out of his pockets, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but, did you maybe, want to exchange numbers?” he asked, bright blue eyes bearing into yours.

Your lips parted unbidden, eyebrows raising in surprise, or more like shock, as your eyes widened.

“You- you want my number?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t give him a chance to answer though before you continued, “Uhm, yeah,” you nodded, “sure.”

The delicate smile on your lips grew as you reached for your phone.

You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you were finally headed back to your sister’s place.

You were smiling like a fool as you drove, a sense of giddy taking over you. This kind of stuff never happened to you. You were still in a bit of disbelief as you pulled into your sister’s driveway, calling her to help you unload but deciding against telling her about your little grocery store meet cute. At least until the party was underway and her stress levels came down.

—

Grumpy.

That’s the word you would use to describe your current state.

This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You should be lounging on a couch watching scary movies with a bowl full of candy right now, not clopping down the street in your wedges - a last minute costume thrown together as your niece held your hand and pulled you along with her while your sisters and baby niece strolled behind.

Sidney had thrown a fit when she learned you wouldn’t be coming along for trick or treating and only calmed down when you finally relented and agreed. But of course, you couldn’t just go out in what you were already wearing, no, that would be too easy. You absolutely needed a costume.

At your sisters’ and niece’s goading, you were forced to put something together.

You were already in all black, so you snagged the leftover cat ear headband your sister had and made your already done eye look a little more exaggerated. You all left soon after, your niece’s jubilance as she skipped out of the house easing your annoyance at the change of plans. As you started down the driveway, you were cursing yourself for not having brought your sneakers, and your sisters for both having smaller feet than you.

You walked up to house after house with your niece, taking turns switching who was going up to the door every two or three houses. In between houses, you finally told your sisters about the guy you met at the store earlier, how attractive he was, how he helped you load your car, and how he asked for your number before you went your separate ways.

It was nice to be able to talk with them about it, it had been a long time since it had been just the three of you together - no obnoxious boyfriends or overly talkative husbands to interrupt your conversations. You had to say, you were starting to feel a bit more grateful for your niece’s insistence on you joining them.

As you talked to your little sister while she held her daughter, you both watched as your niece tugged on her mom’s hand, refusing to go up the pathway of the house you were now at. As you looked around, you realized everyone else seemed to be avoiding the house, too. You weren’t sure why, though. The porch light was on and there was a cute, though solitary, ghost decoration that would greet you as you walked up the path to the house.

“What is up with that?” you asked aloud.

As your older sister walked back over, she answered your question. “She doesn’t wanna go, she says it’s haunted.”

You fixed your niece with a look, “What do you mean haunted? Who told you that?”

“Evan and Fifi. They said the metal man lives here and he kills anyone who tries to come in.”

“The metal man, huh? Well,” you said, making a point of looking all around the front of the house, “it looks to me like whoever lives here is ready to pass out candy to anyone brave enough to knock. The lights are on, and did you see the ghost up front? They’re probably just as excited about Halloween as you are.”

“No.” she responded flatly.

“No?” you scoffed. “Ohhh, okay,” you exaggerated, “I get it, you’re too scared to go. That’s all you had to say, Sid, no shame.”

“I’m not scared,” she argued, her face scrunched in annoyance at your insult.

“Really? If you’re not scared then why won’t you go knock on the door?”

She floundered for a second before she narrowed her gaze at you. You wanted to laugh at the low growl that radiated from her but held it together.

“We’ll all go,” she finally decided, looking all three of you in the eyes to make sure you were all ready to accompany her.

—

It had been two hours since the trick or treaters had started their nights.

Bucky could hear the laughter and screams of playful fright as family after family and group after group of friends passed by his house.

The bowl of king size candy bars sat on his coffee table untouched as It played on his screen.

Every now and again he’d get up and look out the kitchen window, hoping to see a dead street to make himself feel better about the lack of trick or treaters, but only found the streets full of people.

The more time that passed without a single knock or ringing of his bell, the worse he felt.

He could lie and say he didn’t know why he was taking this so hard, he wasn’t one to complain about his solitude, but truthfully, he knew why.

He had heard the neighbor kids talking about him the other week, telling tales of horror about the metal man who lived next door. If seeing his arm was all it took to spur their tales and ignite their fear of him, God, he didn’t even want to know what would come if they found out even a little bit of his past.

And if it wasn’t the kids starting their own urban legend at his expense, it was the adults who would gossip about him at their backyard barbecues. The mysterious man who lived alone and kept to himself was an easy target for lowly neighborhood gossip, and the few people who had pieced together who he was seemed to be tight lipped about it. Anytime they saw him in public, their eyes would bug and they would quickly avert their gaze, like they were scared what would happen if he knew they knew. It’s not like his identity was a secret, but he wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation with them to let them know that. Especially not when they looked at him like that. Like he was some kind of monster.

Even still, he didn’t want to be the social pariah on the block. He hated to think that anyone was scared or weary of him, though he knew most of them were.

He sighed heavily as he checked the time once again.

So much for that ghost helping to dispel his bad reputation. He’d be requesting the money he spent on it from Sam later, it was his idea for him to get halloween decorations in the first place. He should have known it wouldn’t have helped.

As his phone unlocked with his FaceID, he was tempted to send a message to the woman he’d met earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he hadn’t felt so disarmed by someone in a very long time. And the fact that she was gorgeous, and didn’t seem the least bit frightened by him, was a nice feeling, too.

But she was probably watching movies and relaxing by now, he didn’t want to be a disturbance. Tomorrow, though. He’d definitely be messaging her tomorrow.

Another sigh left him as he locked his phone again, tossing it on the coffee table before making his decision.

Bucky paused the movie before he stood, bowl in hand, prepared to take it to the kitchen and shut his porch light off on his way upstairs. It was only gonna get later and he had to accept that no one was going to trick or treat at his house this year.

But just as he was setting the bowl down on the table, he froze.

Was someone actually coming up the porch?

He swore he was just hearing things…but then came a knock.

—

“You can’t just stand there, Sid, you have to knock or ring the bell, pick one.”

“No.”

“Ugh,” you exaggerated with an eye roll, turning to look at your older sister, “you live with this everyday?”

“Everyday,” she replied.

“Sid, if you don’t knock, you don’t get candy,” you told her.

“If I don’t knock, I don’t get murdered.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll do it myself,” you shrugged, adjusting the cat ears on your head.

You raised your arm to knock on the door, but Sid stopped you, pulling it back down.

“I don’t want you to get murdered, either!”

“Sidney,” you laughed, kneeling to get on her level, “I promise you, no one is going to get murdered. This house isn’t haunted and a murderer doesn’t live here.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” your little sister chimed in, earning a glare from you before you couldn’t help your laugh, shaking your head before turning back to your niece.

“I just met Evan and Fifi at the party, and I know for a fact they were just trying to scare all of you guys. I doubt they’ve ever met whoever it is that lives here. Now, do you trust me?”

Her reluctant nod was your answer.

“Okay. Then I’m gonna knock on the door, and we’re gonna get some candy. Cool?”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” you nodded with a smile before standing back up.

Sid inched back to stand in front of her mom, pulling her arm to hide herself behind as you once again went to knock on the door, this time following through.

You knocked and heard footsteps from within, smiling as you waited for the homeowner to open the door.

Once it opened, though, you found yourself completely taken aback.

Your breath caught in your throat as a newly familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes met yours.

Bucky stood at the open door, bowl of full size candy bars in hand. He looked just as surprised to see you there as you were him.

He tilted his head at you, a lopsided grin spreading on his face.

“Trick or treat!” Sidney yelled, seeing the big bars and coming to stand in front of you.

Bucky looked down, smiling as he showed her the bowl, “Happy Halloween,” he said, allowing her to pick which one she wanted.

“I know how this looks, but I swear I’m not stalking you,” you promised.

“I don’t know, it seems like a lotta coincidences for just one day,” he smirked, cooly leaning against his door frame. “Nice costume,” he complimented.

“Ha, thanks,” you smiled, touching the cat ears once again. “Nice ghost,” you nodded toward the lonely decoration, “Really livens up the place,” you teased.

“That was the intention,” he laughed, a little too glumly for your liking. “You guys are actually the first trick or treaters I’ve had all night, so I guess it didn’t really do its job.”

“Sorry, you guys know each other?” your sister asked.

“Yeah, uh,” you turned briefly, “this is Bucky,” you said.

“Bucky from the grocery store, Bucky?” your little sister asked.

You gave her a look you hoped Bucky didn’t see before answering, “Yes. That Bucky.”

Your sisters introduced themselves to him and as he switched the candy bowl from his right hand to his left, extending his palm to shake their hands, you noticed a glimmer coming from his left side.

You moved over a bit to allow them room to shake hands and as you looked closer, you realized that, peculiarly enough, his left hand wasn’t made of flesh.

You scoffed a laugh to yourself at his “metal man” moniker. That made some sense now… In fact, a few things were clicking into place. Bucky, you thought…Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes. You wondered how you hadn’t noticed earlier, not that it mattered, but you were staring, like kind of a lot, at him when you met at the store, and even when he was helping load your groceries. You really must have been distracted by just how gorgeous his face is.

Now that you were really looking at him again, you noticed just how built he was. Strong arms, solid chest, nearly six foot tall if you had to guess.

Your sister’s laugh brought you back to reality as you followed her gaze to Sid who was now taking a bunch of bars from Bucky’s bowl as he held it out for her again.

“I doubt anyone is coming my way again, so please, take what you want,” he offered to all of you.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you smiled as your sisters each took a bar of their own. “We’ll uh, let you get back to your movie,” you said, remembering his plans for tonight.

“The movie, yeah. I think I might have to start it over, actually. I went on my phone for a minute and looked up to see a blood covered bathroom but I have no idea how they got there,” he huffed a laugh at himself.

“Oh, what are you watching?” your little sister asked.

“It,”

“It? No way, that’s so funny. That’s the movie you were gonna watch before we left tonight, isn’t it?” your older sister asked knowingly, a smirk no one but you and your younger sister would ever catch flashing for a microsecond on her lips as she looked at you pointedly.

“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “it is,” you said, trying not to let the awkwardness that was eating at you consume you entirely.

“You should stay and watch it,” your little sister suggested, to your complete and utter mortification. Your eyes shot over to her, and you swear, if looks could kill.

“I’m not just going to invite myself-”

“Come on, like he minds,” she turned to look at Bucky then, her hands still on her stroller holding her baby, “you don’t mind, do you?”

You peek over at Bucky, unsure of how you would even react if you were in his position. He met your eye and his lips quirked in a soft smile. “Not at all. If you wanted to, that is,” he added, offering you an out.

You looked at him a moment before looking over to your smugly smiling sisters and your niece as she tore into one of her candy bars, standing safely between the two of them. You inhaled sharply before looking back to a waiting Bucky.

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds…fun.”

“Great, well we were heading back anyway. So, see you later?” you sister bid.

“Or not,” your little sister added teasingly before she shot her gaze over to Bucky once more. “But we do have her location, just so you know,” she added seriously, a hint of a warning in her words.

“Ooo-kay,” you said, breaking the forthcoming tension, “I will text you guys when I’m on my way back,” you told them, urging them to get going.

“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I trust my sister will get home safe,” your sister said directly.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he responded gallantly while your face felt as if it was literally on fire.

What was this, it was like your parents were dropping you off for your first date in high school. But somehow worse.

She nodded, “And thank you for the candy. Sidney,” she called, getting her daughter’s attention, “what do we say?”

“Thank you! Happy Halloween!”

“You’re very welcome,” Bucky smiled. “Happy Halloween.”

—

It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting on Bucky’s couch, a glass of water you had desperately needed sitting before you on the coffee table and Bucky sitting to the left of you, but keeping a respectable distance.

“I’m really sorry about my sisters, by the way. They can be a lot,” you huffed a laugh.

“Don’t be,” he brushed off, “It’s nice to see, honestly.”

You looked over at him, he seemed a bit forlorn before he came back to himself.

“You know, my niece was almost too scared to come to your door. She said this house is haunted, that ‘the metal man’ lives here and kills anyone who tries to enter.”

“Ah, I see word travels fast when it comes to children.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of like their own urban legend.”

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed, lifting a leg up to cross under your thigh as you turned to face him on the couch.

“What?” you asked, “Don’t you want to be an urban legend?”

“Not really,” he laughed with a shake of his head, turning to face you better as well. “Especially not when it leaves me with bowls full of king sized candy bars no one seems to want.”

There’s a pause before he continues,

“Honestly… I don’t like knowing people are scared of me. I mean I’ve known, for a long time, that they are, it’s just.. Different when you can see that fear on their faces, in person.”

You didn’t even realize you were moving as you scooted in closer to him while he spoke.

“I thought the city was bad, but ever since I moved out here, it’s all so much more intimate. The stares are a lot more pointed.” He laughed humorlessly at himself, “I heard a couple kids talking about my arm a few weeks ago and tried to tell myself I didn’t care, but I’ve been wearing nothing but long sleeves every time I go outside now.

“I’m not ashamed of it,” he said quickly to clarify, “I just, I don’t want them to have to be scared of me.”

“They shouldn’t be scared of you just because you have a prosthetic arm,” you argued, knowing they surely knew nothing else of who he was, “and their parents should probably be leading by better examples.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “what can you do?” He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming at your defense of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up-”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s on me. I am incredibly skilled at killing conversations before they even begin.”

“I don’t know about that. You don’t know me well yet, so you don’t know how big of a deal this is, but, I like talking to you,” he smiled.

You had to look away from his gaze, breathing a laugh as you did.

The movie was playing on screen, but neither of you were paying any attention to it as you continued talking.

Each time Bucky laughed at your lame jokes, you swore you felt like you were flying. You talked about everything and nothing. You got to know each other better, asking questions about life and preferences and favorites and what-ifs. The conversation flowed so easily, you never even really had to think about what to say next. That definitely wasn’t usual for you, and you liked it. You liked him.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned flirty, and again, it was completely effortless.

Your knees were pressing against one another as you sat across from each other, almost side by side on the couch.

You laughed in unison at a cheesy line Bucky tried on you before a jump scare on the screen had you quite literally jumping. Without thought, you leaned into Bucky, and he had no qualms about it as you hid your face in his shoulder.

He laughed lightly, his arm coming around you and gently rubbing your back before you forced yourself to pull away. His warmth was so nice and welcoming, but if you didn’t back up, you would’ve tried to nuzzle right into his side - you couldn’t risk the embarrassment.

As you turned back to sit next to him though, he kept his arm around you and tugged you in a bit closer.

You briefly wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, because you definitely could. You thought it might beat out of your chest at any moment as his warm cologne invaded your senses.

“Sorry, I guess I just assumed you liked scary movies,” he laughed.

“Ya know what’s funny is I actually hate scary movies,” you told him, “the It movies are some of the very few that don’t scare me.”

“Oh, that was you not being scared?” he smirked with a raised brow.

“That was- it just, it caught me off guard,” you defended with a smile, absentmindedly leaning more into his hold.

You had never gotten so close to someone in such a short amount of time, emotionally or physically.

It was foreign, but you enjoyed it. It may have been sudden, but it didn’t feel rushed.

“You get scared easily?” he asked.

“I’m the biggest scaredy cat I know,” you admitted. “I’m not hard to get a jump out of, I get scared of literally everything,” you laughed at yourself.

You turned to look at him when he didn’t say anything and felt your breath catch in your throat for the second time that night. He was so close to you now, and his eyes were piercing as he took you in, lingering on your lips and sending a chill through you.

The energy between you seemed to shift from something light and playful to something more charged, deliberate.

Your eyes drifted to his lips despite yourself, too.

He leaned in just a touch closer to you and your lips were mere inches away as he spoke,

“You’re not scared of me,” he said, though you weren’t sure if it was a question or not. Still, you responded as if it were.

Leaning in, brushing your lips against his, you breathed, “No.”

His hand was on your head then, keeping you close to him as he pressed his lips against yours, it was fervent, yet delicate, as your lips moved against one another.

You moved a hand to hold onto his left shoulder and he tugged your body to move you completely over his lap while he continued to lead the kiss.

His metal hand found its way to your plush waist as he held you, squeezing you lightly and inadvertently causing you to sink down lower into his lap while your upper body melted into him.

His hand slid from your waist to your ass, grabbing you through your leggings, kneading your ample flesh in his large palm.

You moaned into his mouth and that seemed to spur him on because in the blink of an eye you found yourself being flipped onto your back as he pinned you beneath his large body.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt as his wandered your curves.

“Do you have a bed?” you breathed, pulling him back down to be closer to you, wanting desperately to have his lips on yours once more. He nodded.

“Glad you asked,” he returned, voice low and husky.

You yelped as Bucky lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you with ease while you clung to him like your life depended on it. If he dropped you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover from the embarrassment. But as he began up the steps and his hold didn’t falter for a single second, you realized maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.. He held you like you weighed nothing and honestly, it sent a new wave of arousal through you as he reached the door of his bedroom.

He tossed you down on his bed carefully, but stopped you before you could begin tugging your leggings down your thick thighs.

You looked at him, confused and with a touch of worry you were about to be rejected.

“I’m sorry,” he began, “I should’ve said this before I brought you up here,”

That did nothing to ease your worry…

“I really like you. And I think there could be something real here between us, I don’t want to ruin that. So if you were only here for one night,-”

“I really like you, too,” you cut him off, eyes gleaming into his, “And I think you’re right, I don’t wanna ruin it either. I wasn’t planning for this to be a one night stand, but if you want to take things slower, I don’t have a problem with that.”

“No, I’m good with where we were heading, I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want this to be just tonight.”

You nodded, a little breathless as you smiled up at him.

“Same page, then.”

“Good,” he grinned before pushing you to lie back on his bed as he descended upon you.

His lips were on your neck and as he sucked on your sweet spot, you couldn’t contain the soft moan that passed your lips.

His hands found the waistband of your bottoms and he pulled them down as much as he could manage before you lifted your hips and wiggled a bit to assist him in getting them off of you.

You pulled impatiently at the buckle of his jeans, earning a chuckle from him before he got to work taking them off.

While he got rid of his jeans, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, catching on the cat ears you had forgotten you were wearing. You threw them all to the side, unclasping your bra as Bucky shrugged his sweatshirt off over his head in turn.

He was back on top of you in an instant, pulling your bra off of you and tossing it to land with the rest of your discarded clothes off the side of the bed.

His large hands immediately went to your breasts, admiring the soft, heavy feel of them in his hands while he palmed them, squeezing slightly as he felt you.

You mewled under his attention, eyes closed in delight as his touch only added fuel to the fire burning in your core.

When he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking on your tit, your hand found his hair as you gasped at the sensation, holding him to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your breasts.

You could feel the wetness growing between your legs as he continued to have his fun, unconsciously rutting his thick cock against you when you’d moan for him.

As he traveled down your body, his hands following your curves and his lips kissing every inch of you that he could, he paid special attention to your tummy before he traveled even lower.

You were a writhing mess as you felt his warm breath on your folds. When your hips bucked up into his face and you felt his lips brushing your cunt, you whined obscenely at the feeling. Bucky laughed tauntingly, holding your hips back down as he poked his tongue out past his plump lips, lightly licking your folds and your sensitive clit as you gripped his hair and urged him closer, wanting, needing more.

He finally took mercy on you after a long, torturous minute, spreading you open for him before he ate you out like a man starved.

His tongue glided all over your slick cunt, dipping in and out of your tight entrance, before coming back up to flick your clit.

He drew figure eights over the sensitive bud and you swore you were about to come undone from that alone, but when he sunk his thick digits into your dripping pussy, curling them just right, rubbing against that special spot perfectly, you were seeing stars as your thighs threatened to clamp around his head while you shook from your orgasm. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as you came and he moaned at the feeling as he worked you through the high, more than ready to finally get his cock inside you.

“Doll, you look so gorgeous like this,” he admired as he held himself above you, “naked and sweaty beneath me. Like a fucking goddess,” he praised, grabbing his erection and positioning himself at your entrance.

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked, running his cockhead up and down your dripping slit.

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you moaned pathetically, spreading your legs as wide as you could for him.

“Mm, I love the way you say my name, doll,” he groaned as he pushed just his tip inside your tight cunt, moving in and out of you as you whined for him.

“God, please, Bucky, please fuck me! I want it so bad,” you whimpered. “I wanna feel you fill me up, please.”

The growl that left his throat had your pussy fluttering, squeezing around nothing before he finally gave you what you wanted. With one hard, deep stroke, he was fully seated inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped sharply, your hands gripping onto him wherever you could as he began to set his pace. With every thrust of his hips into you, he was hitting deeper and deeper inside your cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried.

“There you go, sweetheart. Take all ‘a my cock inside this tight pussy, taking me so fuckin’ well,” his hands were tight on your hips as he fucked into you. “This what you wanted, doll?” he panted, his pace never faltering as he fucked you harder, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his balls hitting your cunt with his every thrust filled the room, mingled with your moans and whimpers and his grunts and growls. “Wanted this big dick to stretch you out, huh? Wanted to feel me fill you up with my hot cum til I’m dripping outta you.”

One of his hands left your hip and instead went to grab at your breasts again, his large hand palming your tit as he squeezed and kneaded, flicking his thumb over your nipple and only adding to the pleasure threatening to send you over the edge.

“God, yes! Please, fucking yes, Bucky, please, please, please, please” you begged pathetically, reaching a hand down to find your clit, working your bud in circles as your walls tightened around his thick cock.

Your eyes were about to roll into the back of your head as you moaned senselessly, Bucky’s hand leaving your chest and nudging your own away from your clit. He replaced your hand and circled your clit perfectly as he continued rolling his hips into yours, his pace growing more erratic and the words leaving his beautiful lips growing filthier the closer he got to his own end.

With one perfectly angled thrust, you were crying as your body shook at the intensity of your orgasm. Wave after wave of nerve tingling pleasure lighting you up as you rode out the high. Your toes curled, legs wrapped around him as much as they could be while he grabbed at your body, falling down closer to you as he moaned, holding your body tighter as he pumped his hips, “Fuck,” he growled as he pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could, his eyes squeezing shut, holding himself there as he came, his body shaking some as he attempted to thrust once more.

You moaned at the feeling of him painting your walls, your hands in his hair as he buried his face in your neck, holding him to you. He stayed inside of you for a long minute as you both panted, trying to catch your breath, while he ensured he got all of his load out before he finally pushed himself up off of you, gently sliding out of you.

He flipped over next to you, laying on his back before he pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest as you laid in his left arm.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed, your fingers playing in his chest hair mindlessly as you worked to catch your breath.

His hand was running up and down your side soothingly as he moved to try and meet your eye.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’m better than okay, honestly. That was…amazing.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “but still, I’m sorry if I got carried away. I tend to run my mouth when I’m, uh,” he fumbled with his words, “ya know, in the moment.”

He looked so bashful, you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his expression.

“You just said all of what you just said, but you had trouble with that?” you tittered, rubbing his chest before turning further into him, laying on your side as he stayed on his back, propping his right hand under his head as he relaxed into the position. “But really, Bucky, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t know if you could tell, but…I really liked it,” you simpered sensually.

Bucky smiled at you as you leaned up to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

“It’s probably way late now, right?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “I should probably head back.”

Bucky sat up after you, “Do you have to?” he asked softly.

You looked back at him, his blue eyes set on you. You nipped at your lower lip before shaking your head lightly. A new, sweeter excitement washing over you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you could stay for the night,” he offered. “I was hoping I could take you for breakfast in the morning?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes as he waited for your response. That giddiness you felt earlier came over you once again as you held his gaze.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes angst

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zombholic · 6 months

Text

MILF ABBY WITH READER WHO HATES KIDS HC — abby anderson

description — milf!abby, reader who isnt that great with kids, age gap, reader is around mid twenties and abby is late thirties going on forty, smut, mdi !!,

authors note — literally all my creds and inspo goes to @elliespassagerprincess i literally love their milf abby series pls go read it !!

— You and your friends know that you do not have a single motherly instinct in your bones, you and kids do not mix well together.

— This one time you were just strolling while shopping and a toddler came up to say hi to you and you just stared at it wondering what to do.

— If there’s a child screaming at the top of their little lungs you literally give it a death glare.

— You also call children “it” and make everyone laugh every time you talk about a kid.

— But if it wasn’t for Abby’s six-year-old daughter Melanie who came up to you one day at a your local grocery store crying like snot bubbling at her nose and she looked sticky trying to hold your hand you wouldn’t have met your future milf wife.

“Oh, uh hi— why are you crying?” You let the little child grab your pointer finger as you tried to hard to fight your inner demons from the stickiness of her little hand.

“I— I can’t find my mommy.” She used her other hand to wipe the snot off her face, you could feel every nerve in your body cringe. You felt bad for the thing but jesus why are kids so fucking sticky.

You and the kid sat on one of the benches inside the store, you bought her some candy to make it stop crying and it worked. You did inform an employee that there was a lost kid, they spoke on the intercom after telling you that if the parent isn’t here in a certain amount of time they would call law enforcement.

“So, what’s your name?” You pinched your eyebrows together looking at the small being next to you devouring the ring pop like her life depended on it.

“Melanie but all my friends call me Melly.” She gave you a toothy smile well … she was missing majority of her teeth so half toothy smile?

“That’s … nice? You have friends?” She shook her head, her two little braids looked like she got into a street fight.

“Yeah, a lot like a lot of friends, what’s your na—“ She was cut off by a woman’s voice calling out for her.

“Melanie!” Both of your eyes shot up at the… holy fucking fuck she was breath taking.

— You found out that her name is Abby and she has a little escape artist for a child, she hugged you tightly with those giant arms thanking you for keeping her baby safe.

— Abby was truly taken back by how beautiful you are, she was quick to tell you she’ll repay you and managed to get your number while doing so.

— You guys ended up bonding really fast, even though you two were almost complete opposites she was so fascinated by you.

— She invited you over to dinner at her house and fuck was she loaded, not like you were in it for the money but damn must be nice.

— She genuinely found it so amusing how you would interact with Melanie, treating her like a little adult. You weren’t the type to use baby words towards kids you just spoke to them.

— Melanie really resembled Abby to the T, she had her mom’s blue eyes, freckles, the cutest nose but she had blonder hair, you just assumed it was from the dad.

— After months of basically hanging out with them you guys felt so inseparable, you still would give concerning expressions whenever Melanie would do something weird.

— Abby was falling in love you, whenever all three of you would watch a movie that Melanie always picked out and yes you did argue with a six year old about picking movies she would just have the urge to grab your face and kiss you.

— For halloween you bought Melanie an inflatable dinosaur costume with a pink tutu, you literally were crying from how silly she looked holding Abby’s hand.

— Abby was so reluctant to make the first move, scared that she was too old for you but little did she know how much it turned you on that she was older.

— You decided to ask Abby out on a date, you called her up while you were at home, heart beating out of your chest when she said yes.

— The date was at the arcade, cheesy but Abby always won you prizes every time you guys went with Melly. She beat at you literally every single game and being competitive you just glared at her.

— Melanie was at a sleepover at her friend’s home so you and Abby had the place to yourselves, after the date you guys were chilling in her kitchen Abby finally had the courage to kiss you.

“Can I please kiss you?” She looked at you with those pleading eyes, a slight whine to her words.

NSFW mdi NSFW mdi NSFW

— She pinned your back against the counter, her hand cupping the side of your face, the kiss felt so warm but soon became greedy.

— She carried you to her room, your legs wrapped around her waist, arms around her neck as you drove her fucking crazy kissing on her neck like that.

— Abby has a Daddy kink, she had her strap settled deep in your drooling cunt, legs on her shoulder, thrusting so fucking deliciously making you claw at her arms.

“Mmmgh— oh fuck Abby..” Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, knuckles white from the grip you had on her arms.

“Daddy, call me fucking Abby again and I wont let you cum.” She slapped your face, grabbing it with her hands squeezing your cheeks together.

God this wasn’t the sweet, motherly Abby you knew but some sex god who would fuck you so stupid it left you an incoherent mess.

— She had crazy stamina, had you in every position, face down with your ass up, riding her cock, your back pressed against her front as she spread your legs open drilling your bruised and aching pussy.

— She was so mean, she mocked your moans, bit your skin, slapped your tearful face every time you stopped looking at her. You couldn’t get enough of this side of her.

— She over stimulated you so much you were sobbing, trembling every time she would touch you, your legs shook violently.

Abby had her arms wrapped securely around your thighs, spreading them open so wide. Her tongue lapping you up, sucking on your puffing clit, sliding her tongue inside your sore cunt.

“Daddy please! Too much, s’too much, too much” You squealed, crying out trying to push her head off of you.

— After long hours of her using you, she was so quick to turn her motherly instincts back on. Kissing your face so sweetly, her eyes filled with worry that she pushed you over the edge.

— You reassured her that it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. She started a bath for you, sitting right behind you as she massaged your aching body, running her fingers over the love bites she left scattered on your body.

— She held you so tightly as you both had fallen asleep on her amazing bed.

#lesbian #lgbtq #wlw #abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us ii #tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fic #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x reader smut #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson x female reader #milf!abby #abby anderson smut

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 9 months

Note

Getting fucked by ghostface!Billy in an alley on your way back from Tatum’s. He tried to scare you and pull this little stunt, but you figure out it was him

More Billy, YES (this is 1.5k, enjoy)

Please read the warnings before reading this one, some of the content might make you uncomfortable or be triggering for you

Warnings: 18+, dub-con, semi-public sex, p + v, non-protected sex, creampie,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Dewey to drive you home? He should be there at ten,’’ Tatum asked again as you were getting ready to leave. ‘’The psychos are out at this hour...’’

You declined her offer. ‘’I can’t. My parents will have my head if I'm not home before curfew.’’ You grabbed your backpack and opened the door. ‘’See you tomorrow!’’ You waved at her before stepping out and closing the door.

The chill autumn air brushing your face and the fallen leaves swished on the ground around you as you walked down the Rileys’ driveway and took the sidewalk. You didn’t particularly enjoy walking alone at night — no women did, honestly —, but Tatum’s house was only a few blocks from yours.

On the way, you admired all the carved pumpkins out on the porches and other halloween decorations, making you miss when you were kids. Halloween was still fun as a teenager, but no parties could beat trick-or-treating and exchanging candies with your friends.

As you turned on Elm street, a growing unease pricked at your senses. Someone was following you. Your steps became quicker, but not quick enough that your change of pace would alert the person behind you. The last thing you wanted was to let him know that you knew he was following you. He could take a run after you and it would be done for you.

You thought of going back to Tatum’s, maybe Dewey was home from work, but you were almost home. Instead, you took the shortcut to your house and turned in an alley, thinking you could kick a trash can at your pursuer's feet in case he tried anything, but a shadow loomed over you. Panic surged through you, and before you could react, a gloved hand swiftly clamped over your mouth, stifling the scream that tried to escape.

Fear pulsed within you, your mind racing to comprehend the situation. You struggled against the grip, your instincts kicking in as you fought to break free. The scent of leather filled your nostrils as you twisted and wriggled, attempting to loosen the stranger's hold.

A distorted voice pierced the air, its chilling words sending a shiver down your spine. ‘’Don’t you know walking home by yourself at night is a danger-magnet? Especially with a tight little skirt like yours,’’ he said as the hand that wasn’t over your mouth slid up your thigh, making your heart race in fear of what was going to happen.

A sickening feeling twisted in your stomach. Maybe you should have waited for Dewey to drive you home. Your parents would have been mad for not respecting your curfew, but at least you would have been safe.

You tried to scream again, and fight back, but the stranger only laughed at your attempts.

‘’You’re not gonna escape me, babydoll,’’ the distorted voice laughed, tightening their grip and pressing your front against the brick wall of a building. ‘’If you try, I’ll gut you like a fish.’’ Something cool touched your leg and tears pricked in your eyes.

A knife.

Tatum was right about psychos being out at this hour…

You turned your head slightly, trying to see who was holding you, but all you saw was a strange halloween white mask with a black hood.

‘’Have you ever been told how good your ass looked in that skirt? Bet your boyfriend likes to take you from behind, uh?’’ The hand that was on your thigh moved up, pulling your skirt and lifting it up, making your skin crawl.

The night air hit your bare ass, completely exposed to the masked stranger, and you pressed your thighs together. You doubted it would stop the man from doing anything, but you could at least try.

‘’Mmh, what a nice ass,’’ he pointed out, smacking his hand on your ass-cheek, the sound resonating in the alley, and grabbing it. You squeaked at the impact. ‘’I can’t wait to feel it against me as I pound in your tight pussy.’’

Your stomach churned. Your night was turning into a nightmare.

‘’Now, I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth, but if you dare scream…’’ he trailed with a threat.

You nodded, having no other choice. He was the one with the knife.

‘’Spread those legs, hands on the wall,’’ he ordered, the distorted voice glitching a little, causing you to hear the man’s real voice. It sounded familiar, like you had heard it before, but a lot of men had similar voices.

Shaking that thought, you obeyed and parted your legs, holding a hiss when pressing your hands against the rough brick.

‘’Now what?’’ you spat, looking over your shoulder.

The stranger chuckled, then pushed himself up against the curve of your ass, letting you feel his erection through his clothes, the hardness and heat radiating from his body admittedly kind of hot. ‘’Now I'm gonna stick it in you and rearrange your insides, you dumb fucking bitch.’’

You gasped at his words, arousal leaking through your panties.

A car drove by on the other end of the alley, making the both of you go completely still. Minutes ago, you would have been relieved that a car was driving by. Not anymore. A sick and twisted part of you wanted the masked stranger to fuck you against that wall.

Once the car was out of earshot, the masked man another grope of your ass, then pulled aside your underwear, running a gloved hand over your folds and discovering your little secret.

‘’Is this…turning you on?’’

You kept quiet, disgusted and ashamed of yourself.

He laughed, keeping going with the teasing by pressing a finger inside you, making you gasp as you automatically clamped around it. ‘’It is turning you on.’’ You heard the smirk in his voice. ‘’Dirty little slut.’’

You whined at his words, his finger moving in and out, but not nearly enough. ‘’Please,’’ you surprised yourself by saying, chasing his finger. ‘’I need more.’’

If anyone were to see you right now, you would be mortified. Not only were you getting sexually assaulted by a masked stranger in an alley, but you were enjoying it. It was sick.

Much too soon, he removed his finger, making you whine in protest. You turned your head to glance at him, but his head was down and you couldn’t see much.

‘’Think you can handle my cock in you? Your slutty little cunt is weeping around my finger,’’ he said as he reached beneath his robe, fighting with his belt buckle and zipper to free himself.

Your stomach bubbled with excitement, your teeth catching your bottom lip when you felt his hard cock pressing against your entrance. You pushed back against him, the hard press of his tip prodding at you, his pre-cum mixing with your leaking arousal.

Your jaw dropped as you felt his cock part your folds, pushing himself all the way inside before stilling for a few seconds. Fuck. His dick was filling you so good. He gave a first snap of hips and a moan escaped from your lips, louder than you were expecting.

Behind you, the masked man stopped moving, clamping a hand over your mouth as he hissed in your ear. ‘’Keep quiet or I’ll stop playing with your cute little cunt. Can't get caught, can we?’’ he warned, forgetting to use the voice distorter and giving himself away.

‘’Billy Loomis, you sick fu—’’

Your words were cut off as his thick cock plunged back into you, making you moan instead.

Billy laughed. ‘’Surprise, babydoll.’’ He gripped your hip firmly with one hand, the second coming around your throat while he was pounding in you from behind, stars flying around in your vision as the pleasure filled your whole body, explicit groans and muffled moans filling the dark alley.

‘’Always so fucking tight,’’ he grunted, getting really hot under the mask. Halloween costumes were not made to be worn during sex.

You tried your best to brace yourself, both hands flat on the brick wall as Billy kept pistoning into you, your legs were shaking with the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you. ‘’Ahh, yes, just like that!’’

After he emptied himself and rode the waves of your respective pleasure, Billy slipped out from you, a white string of hot cum connecting you to him. He smirked under the mask, loving to watching himself leak from your abused pussy and drip out and down your leg.

‘’You’re insane,’’ you said, turning around to face your boyfriend, your wrinkled skirt still bunched up at your waist.

Laughing, Billy pulled the mask off his face, his lips curved into a wicked grin. ‘’The best people are.’’

You both fixed yourself in silence, having enough played with public indecency for tonight. As thrilling and exciting as this had been, you didn’t want an actual stranger to see you exposed like that.

‘’How did you know I just left Tatum’s?’’

‘’Stu,’’ he explained. ‘’Tatum called him saying you just left, so I put on that sweet little costume and decided to surprise you. Did you like it?’’

You grabbed the front of the black robe and kissed him in response.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn @bt.oliana @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy @s-al-em @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

#billy loomis #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #scream #scream imagine

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