Alison Introducing You To The Ghosts.

Can you do a one shot where Castiel and Gabriel plays cupid to get you and jack together.

Hello, lovely! Oneshots are closed atm, but I could try to do headcanons with this plot, if you'd like it?

The Duke seducing you headcanons.

requested by anon Happy new year everyone! ♥

When he started to notice you, for the beauty of both your body and mind, he wouldn’t do anything at first. The Duke would wait and pay close attention to your words and reactions to him.

But when he’s sure that you are at least a little interested in him, even if it's just a curiosity. Then the game begins.

He starts with simple, yet just slightly flirtatious, compliments.

"Ah, if it isn’t my favorite customer. Our little chats never fail to brighten up the gloomiest of days."

"Trying a new colour? Yes, it suits you wonderfully."

"You look radiant today, my dear."

His words are sweet like honey, and his voice is softer than a pillow, and it makes your face and body hot. And the Duke perfectly knows what an effect he has on you already.

Then he starts to give you some extra things on top of your usual purchase.

A little postcard from another country, a small trinket, a pair of warm socks. When you try to pay for it, he only waves his hand dismissively and says it’s just "a part of his first-class customer service".

He takes his time speaking with you. He even tries to prolong your meetings by telling you stories about anything and everything.

He told you about the origin of the village you live in, about the lords that rule your people, and about the world around you that you’re now forbidden to explore. and even shared some information about himself.

Being so cut out from the world, you listened to him with the same greed of a lost wanderer that found an ounce of water in the desert.

Within a matter of a couple of months, he had you wrapped around his finger.

But it was not enough for what he had in mind for you. He needed to charm you completely.

His fingers would brush against yours when he passed you your purchase while he gave you a cheeky wink.

His palm would stay on yours for just a second longer than usual.

He would slowly shorten the distance between you with each passing day.

Your meetings started to feel more intimate, more personal. And before you knew it, you had developed feelings for the Duke.

He was pleased when he noticed that you started to initiate conversations.

You were the one speaking now, telling him all about your life and thoughts and dreams.

You were talking with him late into the night without being afraid of wasting his time anymore.

You touched him first and didn’t fret about his touches.

You responded to his now more suggestive comments with your own.

And when one day you asked him to lower his face to your level to plant a goodbye kiss on his cheek, he knew that he finally had you all to himself.

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comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♥

i just realized ur requests are closed im so sorry !!!!! please ignore thaf msg i just sent im so so sorry

Haha hey love, it's okay ♥ But yeah, requests are closed rn, since I have plenty in my inbox already. I hope to get them done soon and then reopen it. I will announce it, so stay tuned ;) And thank you for reading my works! ♥ Btw your request was very cute, please be sure to resend it or remind me the main plot when requests are open again. Have a great day!

A Better Family

platonic! Ghosts x reader

summary: You just died and ghosts of the Button’s house try to comfort you and help to cope with your death.

warnings: mention of poisoning, betrayal and death.

requested by: 😱 Ghosts anon

A/N: kinda angst, found family trope. Hope you like it!

The first thing you felt was cold. It dug into your body like a million needles. It reminded you of the time when you went ice skating with your sisters when you were little. It was an early winter, and the lake near your mansion was not frozen enough to withstand your weight for too long, but you were too eager to spend time with your sisters and ignored all of the warnings. And predictably, after a few minutes of fun, the ice under your feet broke and you fell into the freezing water.

The feeling is much the same now. You felt like your body was slowly sinking deeper and deeper into the icy winter river, and the water consumed you, drugging you to the muddy bottom. But unlike the feelings in your memory, this time it was not unpleasant. The coldness brings you calm. But the moment your back touched the bed of it, your body was forcefully pulled back onto the surface.

"Such viciousness in my house!" You’ve heard someone’s voice above you. It sounded feminine and very angry. You wanted to open your eyes, but your eyelids felt so heavy, like they were glued together.

"Poor thing. At such a young age…" Another voice, now more concerned and masculine, even if a bit high.

Alright, you can do it. Just open your eyes.

"Do you think she’ll stay? I don’t want her to go. We could be friends!"

A very high and too cheerful voice, yet another one you couldn’t recognize. You thought it was just you and your sister in the house. Your sister. Now that you were thinking about her, you wondered where she was. And what happened. The last thing you remembered was that you were having tea and then…"

Yeah, a new face could be nice. Not that I’m tired of any of you, but you know…"

Finally, you opened your eyes and the voices gasped from such abrupt action. You set up and saw eight pairs of eyes looking at you. Almost all of them had a weird expression that you couldn’t pinpoint just yet. Their clothes were weird-looking, like some of them came from the past centuries. Then there was a man without pants, but at least he was wearing half of the suit from modern times. What a strange party.

"Who are you?"

The first and most logical question to ask a bunch of strangers that were in your house for some reason.

They shared a look, pointing at each other and shaking their heads, as if none of them wanted to talk to you. It was rude, considering they somehow sneaked into your house uninvited. Finally, the short man in the scoutmaster's uniform and a bow in his neck (what the hell?) stepped out. His voice was quiet and full of sadness when he spoke.

"We are the ghosts of this house, my dear. My name is Patrick Butcher, but you can call me Pat. This is Lady Fanny Button, the old owner and your great, great…"

Pain. You felt pain after the third sip of your tea. Your throat was burning, and your stomach, too. You tried to scream and cry for help, but no sounds came out of your mouth. You threw your body at your sister, clutching on to her t-shirt for dear life, wishing nothing more than to end this suffering. The last thing you remembered was a white hot pain consuming your body. And a crooked smile on your sister’s face.

Oh.

While the nice man was introducing the ghosts (now it made more sense) of the house, you slowly stood up. There was an odd feeling in your body. A perplexing lightness. But you did not feel the clothes you were wearing or the floor under your feet. You knew it was there, but you couldn’t feel it. You, too, were just there.

"And you are… well, uh, how should I put it? Ah, bugger, there is no other way to say it. You’re dead."

"Patrick!" The older lady (your great, great grandmother if you remember right) scolded the man. "For goodness sake! This is a highly delicate matter, you can’t just say it."

Slowly, you turn around to look at the spot where you were lying minutes ago. And saw yourself, or what was left of you, still lying there. Now that was beyond crazy. You stared at your own body, now lifeless and cold, lying on the floor of the house you never even called home. And now you are stuck here forever. With strangers around, a broken heart that couldn’t comprehend the betrayal of their own blood.

The next few days were like a slumber. The ghosts explained to you that now you couldn’t touch anything, couldn’t feel anything but other fellow ghosts and were indeed stuck in this house for forever. Or until you finish your unfinished business. If only you knew what you had not finished, other than living a long and happy life.

With time (and great help from all of the members of the house), your grief and misery turned to acceptance and even joy. You found a new sister that actually loved you and was happy to spend time with you; a bunch of weird uncles and an aunty that were just as happy to talk to you (even if some of them were a bit dramatic at times); and a loving, even if a bit strict, grandmother.

They helped you cope with your death and find a new afterlife. And after your sister and mother died, one very interesting and very much alive couple moved in, causing a great fuss among the members of your new family.

Maybe your death wasn’t such an awful event after all.

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Hiya, was just wondering if you were doing anymore inside no 9 fics? Xxx

Hi! Not doing anything babes Maybe in the future :)

Don't blame me

Otto Octavius x female!reader

summary: You are a superhero that takes the job of protecting citizens after the sudden disappearance of Spider-Man. Things do not always go according to plan, but sometimes they turn out even better than you imagined.warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, vaginal fingering, dry humping. requested by none other than my thirstword count: 3235AN: You can read it on AO3 as well and there's version in Russian here (idk just in case). Part 2 'Bruises' (flashbacks)

Your back hits the wall with a loud thud, the force of it knocks the air out of your lungs and the world goes dark for just a moment. But you don’t have time to recover; two metal claws immediately dig into your shoulders, tearing the fabric of the superhero suit and the delicate skin under with the ease of a red-hot knife through butter. The cuts are shallow, barely bleeding, and it hurts your pride more than brings you any real damage. The lack of oxygen burns your lungs and you take a deep breath, greedily swallowing the cool evening air.

You snap your head up, and the silhouette of the master and creator of the mechanisms pinning your body, is stepping out of the dark. His regal figure approaches you slowly, if not reluctantly, and his shadow swallows all the light around you hiding you from the whole world. It seems like the darkness comes from within himself.

Octavius stops right in front of you and only by a slight tilt of his head, you realize that he's looking you over.

“Here you are, birdie.” His voice is steady, simply stating the fact. Here you are, indeed.

You can’t see his eyes behind the dark lenses of his glasses, but you just know that they have the same malicious excitement of an animal finally catching his prize after many days of chasing. For some reason, this comparison amuses you. Between the two of you, it’s debatable who is the real prize here.

To be completely honest, you had no desire to break out of the three-fingered paws on your shoulders. Not, when you had their owner right when you wanted him after many weeks of seemingly fruitless flirting. You did wiggle a little, even if just for a show, but other than that you did not make a move to free yourself, arms hanging loosely at your sides. If it weren't for the sunglasses hiding his eyes, you could swear you'd be able to see a reflection of your own, almost sadistical, enjoyment of the current situation.

The light from a passing car illuminates his face just for a few moments, and in the darkness of the alley where this madman lured you in, or more like thrown you down from the top of the near building, your eyes manage to catch a crooked smirk with a slight touch of pride. You want to wipe it off his face with either a sandpaper or your own lips, you're fine with either.

He opens his plump lips, no doubt to throw some witty and clever remark you way, that you will replay in your head for the next few days in the loneliness of your apartment, but this game of cat-and-mouse turned you on so much already, that the next words came out of your mouth before you can even think of it, bypassing any stopping points in your feverishly excited brain:

“Easy, tiger! I do like it rough, you got me here, but maybe buy me dinner first, eh?”

He stops dead in the tracks with his mouth agape, and you don't even try to stop your mouth from speaking your thoughts anymore: “Though we can skip the dinner. With you looking like a damn five-course meal and a dessert… I bet I'll be full enough for the evening.”

You watch the change of expression on his broad face with almost childish excitement. The poor man seems to be so taken aback by this ridiculous and out of place comments that don’t even notice his metal devices unclenching, releasing your rather stiff shoulders from their grip.

If you were a ‘real’ heroine, like the notorious Avengers or X-Men, so almighty and full of honor and dignity, this small interaction would be a part of a distraction plan that would offer you some time to escape or strike another blow to the villain, taking advantage of his confusion… But you were not like them.

You believed that lying to yourself was a bad and useless habit, so you were always willing to admit even the darkest of your desires. And at the very top of this not very long wish-list for the past few weeks was him.

You shoot Otto a playful wink and leant forward, raising a hand as if to cup his face, but the supervillain recoils and takes a step back, almost stumbling over one of his appendages. You find his reaction almost comical and can’t help but laugh out loud. He clearly w as not expecting such a turn of events and the furrowed brows tell you that he’s quite angry with your amusement. He opens his mouth again, but you happily interrupt him once more:

“Aw, don’t pout, Doctor, I am serious! Don’t blame me, though, when it’s all your fault. I mean just look at you, such a tall, strong man and a genius at that. And these tentacles…” With each word, you took a step forward until your palm finds its place on the lapel of his inner coat, barely grazing over the only exposed area of skin. “I can only imagine how useful they can be.”

You grin broadly, noting with pride how even in the darkness of the street you still can clearly see the blush coloring his face and spread further down his neck. It’s even adorable, you think, if you forget about his failed attempt to rob a jewelry store not that many hours ago. That poor security guard must be in great pain with this many broken bones.

Despite the obvious lewd subtext behind your words, the man stands still, only titling his head slightly, and don't make another move. You were foolishly hoping that maybe this way he finally catches on your true intentions, but it seems like the luck isn’t on your side today. You're almost disappointed.

“Shame. Judging by our previous encounter, I thought you would be… braver.”

You click your tongue on the roof of your mouth disappointedly and give his body a dirty look over. Your gaze lingers on his broad chest, slightly glistening in the dim light of street lamps with tiny beads of perspiration all over it. You stare for a few moments longer than the situation requires. And definitely much longer than any norms of decency allows.

You let your covered thumb connect with his skin finally, giving it a gentle whisper of a caress, and breath out dreamily.

“But what a sight…”

“Oh, you little minx.” A barely audible whisper reaches your ears and you find yourself pressed against the nearest wall for the umpteenth time of the evening. You cry out in surprise, digging your fingers into the soft flesh of his chest in an attempt to stabilize yourself. One of his prosthetics quickly snakes his way around your arms, connecting them tightly behind your back, and the other wraps around your legs, completely depriving you of the chance to move and escape their death grip. The devices raise you slightly to Otto’s face level.

With a quick movement of his gloved hand he takes off the glasses, finally revealing to you his beautiful chocolate eyes framed by thick black eyelashes. He narrows his gaze, locking your eyes, and you almost choke on your breath of the intensity of it, feeling more vulnerable than ever. Despite the life-threatening situation, you can't help but notice his pupils dilating wildly and consuming the soft brown, leaving only blackness.

He pulls himself closer, completely covering your body with his own. His chest is pressing against yours so hard that you can feel how each of his breaths pushes you deeper into the wall; the uneven surface of the bricks scratches your back, but it only turns you on more. Your faces are dangerously close to each other, so close that his breath burn your lips, and the tip of his long, slightly hooked nose touches the short hairs on the end of your nose, tickling it.

You take a deep breath through your nose and the bitter and distinct smell of cooling asphalt and gasoline hits your nostrils; somewhere in the back you can hear barely audible-expensive Cologne with a light touch of sweat and metal. The wild mixture of aromas is suffocating, it settles on the insides of your throat like a sticky veil, and your head starts to spin with intoxication. Or is it from the feeling of his hot body pressing yours into the cooling hardness of the bricks? The contrast of temperatures makes the feeling of sweet anticipation spread through the body like wildfire and you shiver against him which doesn’t go unnoticed.

Otto chuckles darkly and tilts his head just so that his lips are barely grazing over the corner of yours now; his nose pokes your cheek right under the edge of the mask that hides the upper half of your face, protecting your identity. You gulp, unable to move from the sudden intimacy of his movements. He ghosts his lips over your face, moving agonizingly slow, until he rises to the very lobe of your ear; to this moment every inch of your skin feels like it’s melting under his touch.

Your eyes screw shut when Octavius presses his lips on the inner shell of your ear. His deep rumbling voice flows into your ear like liquid lava and your body responds with a strong, almost painful, spasm in your lower abdomen.

“You really think you’re ready for me to be brave, huh?”

You find the strength to exhale a stubborn “Surprise me, Doctor.”

His dark chuckle sends a wave of electricity through your whole body. You can feel it traveling from the very tips of your fingers to stop in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh, damn you, calling me Doctor like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it.”

Your brain is so far away that you can’t come up with any sort of at least somewhat believable lie. You just nod, admitting the truth behind his words. And it earns you a very pleased “Bad girl.”

The next moment he sink his teeth into the flesh under your earlobe without any warning and you already feel a bruise forming on the delicate skin. A gasp escapes your lips and his wet, thick tongue slides like a snake over the burning skin, apologizing for the caused pain. Your lower lips are throbbing with desire, walls clenching with only one wish; of him inside, stretching you to the hilt. And you feel almost ashamed, but you push these feelings away, focusing on other, more important sensations.

Otto leaves a trail of wet kisses all the way down to the collarbones and stops only when his lips reach the collar of your supersuit. Soft breeze pleasantly cools your now wet neck and the soft sound of your moan seems so foreign that at first you don’t realize that it comes from your own throat.

“Won’t you look at yourself, birdie. So quiet, so… submissive. I like it.”

He’s cheeky, knowing exactly what en effect he has on you, and you can hear it in his voice, but it doesn’t matter anymore. The tentacles tighten their grip around your wrists and ankles and you hiss at the tug.

"Easy, boys. We don't want to break her yet."

You feel the tips of his fingers wandering around your chest, grazing over it tentatively. They wander over the surface of the suit, drawing obscure patterns on it. The touch is so light it nearly drives you mad and you arch your back to feel him, but he pulls his hand back just in time so you don’t have much-needed attention. You whine pathetically and he shakes his head, disapproving of your impatience.

He then raises his hand as if to cup your cheek but stops halfway and changes the trajectory. You’re about to ask him what is that he’s doing, but the question is stuck in your throat when you see his teeth ever so gently bite into the hem of leather glove on his middle finger.

Enchanted, you watch his hand slip oh so smoothly out of the piece of clothing and it hang empty, captured by his teeth. You let out a choked moan and his small smirk turns into a wide grin. That bastard is clearly enjoying your reactions. He quickly pulls the glove off his other hand and puts them both in his pocket. Not wasting another moment, his hot palms land on your breasts and he squeeze it gently. You groan simultaneously.

The heat of his hands warms your insides more and the flames of desire spread through your body, quickly turning into a wildfire, burning out the last remains of any other feelings but lust. Doctor massages your breasts and lets out a hoarse moan. You lick your lips at the sound, your walls flattering in need of attention. One hand travels carefully from your chest to your stomac; his palm glides down over your body gently, stroking every curve on the way, and stops right above the belt.

He turns his palm so that his fingers face your womanhood, the movement of his fingers tickle your soft stomach and the muscles contract; it gives Otto enough space to snake his hand under the belt inside your pants. He stops abruptly and looks up at you, questioning. But he doesn't need to ask, because at this point you’d willingly do any damn thing to feel him inside of you. Only after your affirmative nod he allows his hand to travel further in your underwear. The other hand moves to the waist, fingers diggint into your love handles.

He reach your pubis and hover over the labia, teasing the swollen lips with a whisper of a touch. You whine, and try to lower yourself in a pathetic attempt to get at least some satisfaction, but Octavius just clicks his tongue and continues the sweet torture.

You can’t take it anymore and despite your better judgment whisper feverishly: “Please… please, please...”

His voice is dripping with smugness when he asks. “Please what, darling?”

“Please!” You raise your voice in despair. “Please… touch me.”

He hums satisfied. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Suddenly his middle finger roughly press on the head of your pulsating bud and your whole body jolts in shock. You groan loudly, voice hoarse and shaky. He exhales loudly and mumbles under his nose, you only hear something along the lines of ‘already’ and ‘wet’, but you don't even think of asking him about it. By this point, you don't care about anything in this world but this man.

His strokes are gentle and slow and it makes your hips thrust on their own accord. Skillful fingers working on you with care for a few more minutes, and in any other circumstances this kind of attention would be a pleasant start, but right now it's too slow for your liking. Your heavy head falls on his shoulder, you whine and writhe under his touch like a bitch in the heat. You feel the pressure building inside of you slowly, but it’s not enough, and in a pathetic attempt to reach your peak faster you squeeze your thighs to press his hand closer to your core.

You feel his body rumble with soft breathy laugh and his chest vibrates under you, stimulating sensitive nipples and making you shudder. Mercifully, he dips index finger fist, and then the middle finger right into your slick opening, thumb taking their place now, rubbing your bundle of nerves. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust to the stretch of his thick fingers and start to move them inside of you. Your breath increases and comes out in short whimpers when he fastens his pace and you hide your face at the base of his neck breathing in his scent.

Even, through the pampering blood in your ears and street noise around you hiding spot you can hear wet sounds of his digits pushing in and out of you in a rapid pace. You think that your moans and heavy breathing can be heard from miles away, but all of the thoughts in your head disappear when Otto angles his palm and insert a third finger and the pressure of his digit on your throbbing bud increases; the pace of his pumping and the force of his hand are so perfect that it makes you see stars.

Your thighs shake from how good he makes you feel. Your leg twitches involuntarily and your knee ends up captured right between his legs and under his crotch. His bulge pokes in your upper thigh, and you feel his huge excitement. The connection makes him groan loudly and his hips thrusts in your leg.

His fingers on your waist tighten harder and you’re almost sure that he’ll leave his fingerprints there for you to remember. You strain your thigh a little and he nearly chokes on his gasp. He pulls into you even closer, squeezing you with his weight as if he wants to merge with you. He rolls his hips once, twice, and it’s not long before he’s humping your leg without a care in the world. He’s pleasuring himself with your body, hips rubbing his member in sync with his fingers thrusting into you, massaging your walls so deliciously.

His low almost animalistic growls pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're close, so close...

And then the world explodes, your walls clenching violently around him and body convulsing in the world-shattering orgasm; your mouth opens widely in a soundless scream. To prevent the shouting of his name in bliss for every soul to hear, you clench your jaws and your teeth dig into his neck, leaving a dark mark for him to remember. Octavius groans and increases his speed, helping you ride out your last waves of pleasure and chasing his own release.

Your body goes limp on him with a final sob; he makes a few more sharp thrusts and stiffen at last, shaking. His breathy moan gets lost somewhere in the crown of your hair. You stand there for several minutes, breathing heavily. After some time, when your breath is steady and heart is calm, he carefully removes his hand, covered with your fluids, and wipes it on the inner fabric of his coat. He takes a step back and the restraints on your arms and legs loosens, and you almost fall to the ground, legs weak and boneless, but he catch you just in time.

He gives you a few more minutes to recover, hugging your smaller form almost lovingly, until pulling away completely.

“Well, I must admit it was a pleasant turn of today’s events, even if a bit unexpected.”

His upper claw returns his hat, that fell off his head in a fit of passion, to its rightful place. Otto adjusts it to his liking, looks over your ruined suit, and bows in a mocking manner, holding the brim of his hat with two fingers.

“Until next time, Y/n.”

He all but purr and your legs nearly give up from the sinful tone of his voice.

It’s only when his figure disappears in the night streets you realize that he called you by your name. You real one.

“Wait, what the f…”

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Oh my sweet lord that lisgoe fic was amazing please whenever you get the time can you write anything Ross or Benjamin related legit anything can be smutty but i just wanna say your writing is amazing ❤️

I... thank you so much for your kind words!!! I was not sure with that part at all. I kinda blame Reece for that and his performance hehe. And that anon for a beautiful request :) I'm still not sure about writing a full ass smut on the daily basis hehe, but maybe in the future or with a good plot in my head. Thank you for reading and taking your time to send me this lovely message! ♥

Imagine cuddling with The Duke in his carriage during a storm.

gif credit: unknown, tag the op or dm me please requested by anon

The sounds of rumbling thunder were deafening, you felt like a tiny mouse, who was trapped in a box, while a giant mean child was shaking it and laughing at your little frightened form.

The sound of rainstorm pounding on the roof of the Emporium and the wind howling outside were not pleasant in the slightest, but you’ve had the best heating pillow and most comforting company in the whole world — the owner of this surprisingly not so small carriage — The Duke.

You were nestled on top of his stomach, wrapped in his huge arms, as if in a cocoon of warmth and softness. He was rocking your body in a soothing manner, murmuring sweet nothing in your ear and his voice vibrated through your entire body, lulling you into calm.

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