#OOC - show's over folks!

[thewomanwholaughed]

[[ Holy moly what year is it!? I think I just crawled out of cryo... A lot happened, good and bad. I'm okay! Just not very healthy atm so my presence will go back and forth. That said! I'M BACK! DID YALL MISS ME?? I think I'm going to throw out my drafts because eesh. So much dust on them. ]]

[frostkingoftheapocalypse]

//.

[sansgout]

no one is prepared for how insufferable @howthesleeplesswander and i are gonna be when this game comes out

you have at least 4-5 months of a warning before we go insane; please make the best of it (◕⍸ ◕✿)

[hyperfixiation-station]

Cw: OOC and fem-presenting reader, incorrect military stuff

But anyways I just had a lil thought about you, a young, feminine soldier, being offered a spot on the 141. And of course you take it, who wouldn't?

And you show up at base and you meet the team, an they are all welcoming gor the most part. You get settled in, meet and train with them, and form some sort of comradery with them.

And then the rumors start. Not from the 141, no, but from the other teams on base. That you slept your way into your position, that the only reason you were even offered a spot is because Price likes you in bed, stuff like that.

And it hurts, of course, but you don't mind so much because you've got a team of people who trust you and know your skills and are like a family to you. Except, maybe they aren't.

It wasnt your fault the mission went wrong. Or anyone's. There's was no way to know that the supposedly-sunny weather would turn on you. And it's not your fault that Ghist keep trying to push forward, even when visibility was almost than zero. Not you fault that you both got stranded.

It took hours for Price and Soap to find you. Hours of sitting in the cold, harsh winter weather with no real protection. By the time you guys were found, both you and Ghost were nearly frozen.

They got you in the chopper, wrapped you in blankets and gave you hand warmers to tide you over till you could get checked out by medical. Your eyes were closed, your head leaned back, looking like you're sleeping as you listened to Soap and Ghost bicker.

You thinks that's why he said it. He thought you were asleep, thought you wouldn't hear what he really thought of you.

"She's barely a real Soldier and you know it." Soap had spat at Ghost, "She's just Price's little plaything that he wants to feel important. Don't act like she's on the same level as us."

You don't even know what they were arguing about, don't know why that sentence needed to come out of his mouth. But it did. And maybe he meant it, maybe he didn't, but regardless, he still said it.

And what made it worse is that no one responded. There was no defense from Ghost, from Gaz, from Price- well, Price you could excuse cause he was flying the chopper, but everyone else? There was no excuse.

Of course everyone acts confused when they ask why you're upset, why you're giving them the cold shoulder, refusing to talk to them.

And it comes to blows one night, when your transfer request ends up on Prices desk. They corner you, demanding to know why you're leaving.

"Because." You say, "I'm not staying on a team that thinks my only purpose is to be some-some-some...sex toy for its captain, which isn't true, by the way. I've never had sex with anyone in this base, much less in this room."

Price gapes at you, completely floored by the words coming out of your mouth. But everyone else looks sheepish, cheeks flushing as the realize why you've been so frosty recently.

"That's not true." Gaz says finally, "we-"

"Oh puh-lease. Everyone here thinks it. 'A woman, and young one at that, getting into the 141 on her own merit? Preposterous.' But I didn't mind cause I thought..." your voice cracked and you had to take a deep breath before continuing, " I thought my team at least could value me for my skills. Clearly I was wrong."

And thats all I ahve for now folks, sorry for the abrupt ending I don't know even know where this was going and also my hands are shaking for some reason sorry for any errors lol

[thewomanwholaughed]

[[ I keep thinking about the Batman the Animated Series episode: Locked-Up with the abusive Arkham Chief of Security, Lyle Bolton.

Where the Rogues are so terrified that they don't even fight him while the orderlies try to stop him. They just huddle up together and cower in fear. Outside of Arkham, these three would fight it out on sight. But here? They practically hold onto each other while hiding in a corner. ]]

// Also I love what some people were talking about last night, that asylum inmates will help eachother out with this or that. It's sort of a "if there's trouble, all us freaks have is eachother" situation, at least in a place like Arkham.

[radioisntdead]

Good evening folks! I'm dropping this lil headcanon thingy that's been on my brain, that very much leans into the fanon territory!

Trigger warnings just in case!: Mentions of mild cannibalism because it's Alastor, and biting

I'm still figuring out how to properly write Alastor so this may be OOC! This was not proofread so please don't mind any grammar mistakes! Enjoy reading!

Alastor just causally bites, Mainly your arms and shoulders, not in a sexual way he just... Bites

Your shoulder is exposed? How scandalous! Your getting bit, he's holding your wrist for whatever reason? CHOMP, You wear something that exposes your forearms? You guessed it! It's biting time!

Broski's teeth are SHARP, don't be surprised if you end up bleeding a bit and bro just takes that as like juice, a liquid snack,

A sauce if you will,

Of course the biting typically takes place in private or when the others aren't looking, because basic decency, just because you're in eternal damnation doesn't mean you should lack proper manners! Especially if you're romantically involved!

Also his eyes do the tweaking out thing whenever he bites you

Oh you think he's gonna look dapper and handsome when biting? No.

he looks like someone just injected feral juice and some type of drug into him, even if it's for a spilt second

This is what you get when he bites,

Is it his way of showing affection? Is it some type of weird way to gain control over you? Maybe it's to make you flustered or lose your composer for a second perhaps even to cause you a moment of misery because he's a weirdo

Or emergency snack time,

I know he's a cannibal and not a vampire but I feel like you toss some glitter on him and shine a flashlight at him he'll be a decent dupe for that one guy in twilight

I also feel like you would NOT survive doing that to him, do not throw glitter on the Radio demon and then blind him with a flashlight

You two could be having a very nice time, taking a walk, maybe your just sitting side by side somewhere and he'll just gently take your arm and before you can even process it you feel a stinging feeling and you see the oh so feared Radio demon with his teeth mid-way into your arm looking goofy, so silly.

I feel like if you start biting him back he'll either be displeased with it and nip that behavior in the bud or it becomes a game between you two,

Bonding by just chompin' down on your S/O's arm very wholesome

Also I don't know if you can get infections from getting bit in Hell but I feel like you should disinfect the bites, he might have something

Thank you for tuning in and reading folks! I hope you all have a wonderful evening!

[nachtai-ish]

Grown People Business

pairing: black!femalereader x Terry Richmond

mentions of: a child (idk having a child might be triggering for some folks), mutual verbal abuse, cancer, cloaked mention of abortion. non-canon, terry might be ooc.

notes: despite the above mentions....it's not a dark story.

                Your son was bouncing his knee, holding the football just under his little puffy jacket covered arms. Well, at least you thought he was bouncing his knee. Every time you would slide a look over to him, he would suddenly look very still and solemn. Serious, as if he was really contemplating the lyrics of Kokomo by The Beach Boys. You hid your giggle and continued humming along to the radio.

“Did you have fun at your dads?” You asked sliding another look at your son.

He nodded, as a smile appeared again. “So much fun. Me and Keke, and JoJo ate sundaes and we watched the football game on thanksgiving. Aunt Allison had some wine and she was dancing and she asked me to dance you know I had to show her how we do it now. You old people-“

“Old?” You scoffed. “Boy, who you think taught you those moves?”

“Old people. Anyway, we had so much fun. Christine bought me a ball and daddy and me, daddy and I, threw the ball so much. He said I have a good arm.”

You rolled your eyes and took a right at the red light. Yohan would not put football dreams in your son’s head but you couldn’t shake the joy out of his eyes. “Oh is that right. What about that book report?”

And there was the silence. You shook your head and chuckled. “…Cat got your tongue?”

“I forgot. But I can do it tonight. We still got the weekend.”

“Uh huh.” You shook your head again and pulled into your parking space in front of your town home. And suddenly your son was reaching for the door handle, rushing like he had to go to the bathroom.

“Slow down, what you got to pee?” You knew exactly what he was rushing for.

“I want to show Terry my new ball and see if he wants to see how I throw.” He nearly slammed the door hard enough to break the window. You laughed exasperated and your son’s energy.

“He might not be home Marcus.” You got out of the car yourself, straightening your slightly off-ivory sweater. Your words didn’t stop him from ringing the doorbell, bouncing on his toes. No more than a minute later, the door opened and Terry was standing at the door, bright smile on his face and blue eyes trained on your son.

It was enough to make you melt right on the asphalt you were standing on in the 55-degree weather.

“Marc, my man. Dang, you were gone like two months.” Terry said clapping hands with the much shorter boy, and then squatting to give him a hug. “How was your thanksgiving?”

Marc shrugged, and you rolled your eyes. Boys. “It was alright.” He said, voice suddenly calm conveying indifference.

“Just alright? What the macaroni wasn’t good?” He looked at Marcus then, eyes scanning his face quickly and then he looked over at you, concern in his eyes.

“He good?” He seemed to say, just with a slight shifting of his eyebrows.

You clutched your purse to your stomach, shaking your head and shrugging with a smirk on your face.

“Oh I see, you trying not to make me jealous cause you know I sat here and had a pot pie for dinner.” He shoved him a little and then looked down at the football in his hand. “What’s that?”

“Football, my dad’s fiancé got it for me. You want to see me throw it?”

“You ask your mom?” Terry looked at you then, and Marcus’ face soon followed, his face pleading with you to be cool and say yes.

“It’s cold.” You said, needling him a little bit.

“Ma, please.” He begged.

“Fine, but book report right after. And put your gloves on.” You said grabbing his suitcase out of the backseat.

“Aww Ma-

“Hey, football players wear them too. You want your fingers to be frozen and you mess up the throw? Do what your mom says.” Terry said, his deep voice gentle.

“You right Terry.”

You rolled your eyes again, and closed the backseat. “Of course, listen to Terry. Not your dear old ma, who only was in labor with you for 6 whole h-“

“Alright ma, we’ll be in the backyard.” Marcus walked into Terry’s house, knowingly heading straight for the back door that led to your shared backyard space.

“He a trip I swear.” Terry laughed. “You need help with that?”

“It’s just one suitcase. I’m not fragile.” You stood at your door looking over at Terry fiddling with your keys.

Terry smirked, “Never said you were. Just offering. …How was your thanksgiving? I didn’t see you.” He leaned against his doorframe. His eyes shifted a little lower. You ignored the rumbling in your lower half.

“I went out.”

“With who?” His voice was slightly deeper, his eyes snapped back on your face.

You chuckled looking up at the sky for help. Something, anything that would stop the tingles in your lower half. “30 minutes Terry. Have my child back in my house in thirty minutes.” And with that you walked in your home and closed the door, safe and away from blue eyes and pheromones.

                You sat at your dining room table, windows facing the backyard open so you could see Marcus and Terry throwing the ball back and forth. Your laptop was open in front of you and the grading software had been idling for 20 minutes now as you watched the ball go back and forth. Terry’s form was impeccable, but you knew that. You knew that when he moved in.

Before Terry, there was Mrs. Mable. Mrs. Mable was a sweet older white woman who had moved into the town home after her husband had passed from cancer. She had lived in some big house about 20 minutes away, but once her husband died, she couldn’t stand the silence. When you moved into the Town home, she had been so excited, bringing over cookies and making sure that you knew exactly what school to enroll Marcus into. In the two years that you were neighbors, she had become a sort of surrogate aunt, even watching Marcus during moments where you needed to run out for whatever reason. When her daughter had another baby, she decided to move in with her to help and suddenly the Town home was empty.

Enter Terry.

You hadn’t even seen him look at the place. Only saw the moving van pull up and him, green shirt and tan cargo pants, moving his boxes in all by himself. He didn’t have much but what he did have, he moved efficiently and quickly. You knew he was a force when he picked up an armchair sofa by himself and moved it into his home…almost with no sweat. You noticed the trails of it running down his thick neck.

“Jesus.” You mumbled, hand clutching at your own neck.

“I think he needs help.” Marcus, six then, said. He was sitting at the door, putting on his little sneakers in a hurry.

“And you’re going to help him?” You smirked, watching your child spring into action.

“Yeah, I helped Mrs. Mable move her stuff in the van.”

“So, you’re a pro at it.”

“Duh, mommy.” He opened the door and you followed him, standing on your stoop as your son traveled the few feet over to the new neighbor. You leaned on your door frame, admiring the neighbor from behind as he walked into the moving truck, not even noticing the little 3 foot moving professional walking behind him.

“Can I help?” Marc asked after a moment of standing just at the edge of the truck.

There was a little pause and then a voice, “Uh…yeah you can…but where’s your mom and dad? They know you out here?”

“Ma’s right there. She said it’s okay.” Marcus pointed at you then and a face looked out of the side of the truck. Your inhale was sharp.

His face was devastating. Big features, big lips, wide nose, big blue eyes. On someone else it could be cartoonish, but on him it was almost movie star handsome.

“Damn…” You couldn’t help but say. Fuck, I hope he didn’t hear that.

He grinned slightly, and waved at you. “Hey, I’m Terry. Is it cool if your boy helps me?”

You nodded, your sanity coming back to you. “It’s…it’s cool. But if he breaks anything, just remember you said it was okay for him to help.” You joked and then cursed. Probably not a good idea to tell your neighbor that your son was a little destructive.

Terry laughed; it wasn’t a belly laugh but it was enough to brighten his face. “I won’t sue you. No worries.” He held out his hand for Marcus and helped him onto the truck. “Grab those lamps for me.”

“Be careful Marc.” You shouted.

“I am!” He shouted back, making Terry chuckle again.

You spent at least an hour and 30 minutes sitting on your stoop watching Terry and Marcus pull things off the truck. And during that time, you got a good look at Terry. He had to be at least 6’1 maybe more, and he was broad shouldered. His posture was ram-rod straight like he had been in the military or something. He answered Marcus’ questions calmly, like they had all the time in the world. Like he had no issue with answering the inane questions of a 6-year-old. He was not annoyed and if he was, he was amazing at hiding it.

You were watching them; they had stopped so Marcus could show Terry a Pokemon card he had gotten in a trade. Terry was squatted low to look at the card, giving it all the attention in the world as Marcus explained all of its features. You had urged Marcus to stop holding the man up, but Terry encouraged him to tell him more about the card, making Marcus even more excited.

“He good mama.” He looked at you, eyes focused on yours, voice still calm. Your son was not bothering him. He looked at him then, “I want to know what Bulbasaur does.”

Your stomach clenched. Oh god. You could not sleep with this man. You could not sleep with this man because she showed your son decency. Your phone rang in your pocket then, and the name on the screen made you drier than the Sahara Desert.

Yohan.

You stood up then, going to the furthest corner of your stoop. You didn’t turn your back on the two, but you did turn a little for privacy.

“Hey. What’s up?”

A pause. “I can’t get him this weekend.”

“Yohan, what the fuck. It’s your weekend. You said you were going to take him to the fair.”You kept your voice down as much as possible, not wanting to alarm Marcus.

“…I gotta work. I know what I said. I told you I’m trying.”

“You always say you have to work but then you end up in the fucking club with girls all over you.” You turned then facing away from the men who now were moving a table, Terry was of course doing most of the lifting. “Nigga, I always have to cover for you. I’m tired of lying to my son cause you don’t want to be a father.” You whispered.

“Who said I didn’t want to be a father? I’m fucking telling the truth. I don’t have to lie to your ass. I have to work. Put my son on the phone.”

You looked back and gasped. Terry was watching you, concern on his face. Marcus was heading towards the moving van, not a care in the world. You forced a grin and nodded. You were okay. Terry stood there for another second, before nodding once and walking towards the moving van.

You let out the breath you were holding and focused on the phone.

“Did you hear me Y/N? Put Marc on the phone.”

“No.” You simply said. “He’s busy.”

Another pause and then a chuckle. “…I am not doing this with you. Put my son on the phone.”

“I said no.” You were being unreasonable, sure but this man was always doing this shit and you had enough. “You are not about to feed my son no bullshit so you can feel better about what you’re doing.”

“What you want me to send you the schedule? I got to work. Fuck! This is why I left your ass-“

“Left me? Nigga I threw that ring and your fucking shit to the left-“

“-You don’t trust me.”

“Oh, cause you gave me so many reasons to trust you.” You laughed. “There was Brenda, Latisha, Linda, Felicia, about three Kims’-“

He chuckled, “What you DMX now? Fuck this, I’ll tell Allison to come pick my son up since you want to be stupid-“

You rolled your eyes, “You tell Allison if she steps her drunk ass on my porch, it’ll be the last thing-“

“Mommy.”

You stopped immediately, straightening up and wiping your eyes. You didn’t even know you had starting to cry. “Hey, you done?” You said turning around when you were straight.

“I just gotta pee, and you’re in front of the door.” Marcus was crossed leg and shifting.

You laughed. “My bad, go. And wash your hands.” You called after him.

You sighed when he was out of sight and put the phone back on your ear. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Good… So stop being stupid, and just be reasonable.”

“I’m taking you to court. Bye Yohan.” You hung up the phone, and turned it completely off, sitting on the stairs and putting your head in your hands. Your eyes wet your hands, but you were not crying. You would not cry anymore.

After a moment, there was movement next to you, and then warmth. You looked to the side and Terry was there, silent, not looking at you. Just there. It was oddly comforting although he was a stranger.

You chuckled, “You heard all of that?”

He shrugged and shook his head, “Heard what? …I’m just resting.” He said, still not looking at you. You shook your head.

“On my porch?”

“I’m tired. My porch is like…all the way over there.” He gestured to the right of you. “I’ve been moving all day.”

“Right.” You sniffed in, wiping your eyes. “I could spit the distance between your porch and mine.”

“1. That’s impressive. 2. Doesn’t mean I want to walk it.” He grinned then. “Let me rest, mama.”

“Fine, only because I know you’re tired.” You stood up. “And don’t call me mama. I’m not your mama.”

“My bad. …what’s your name?” He looked up at you.  “You never told me.”

“It’s Y/n. My name is Y/n.”

                It had been two years since then. And Terry turned out to be a pretty reliable neighbor as well, helping you when your tires were flat. Helping you carry in groceries. And entertaining your son’s every whim, including throwing various balls across your shared backyard.

“And you won’t fuck him why?” Keke said making you snap out of your daze. You were on a zoom call with her while working on your papers you had to finish grading. Keke might have been Yohan’s sister but she was also your friend, your best friend. “I know you ain’t still feenin for Yohan’s ugly ass.”

“Keke, please.” You said laughing. “Don’t nobody want your big head ass brother no more.”

“See that’s what you said before, then six months later there you go waddling around with Marcus in your stomach.” She laughed. “Listen, I love my bookie but I would have.” She made a sucking noise and crossed her hand across her neck. “Immediately. You know what I’m saying.”

“You stupid.”

“For real. Fuck the man. Get it over with. You know you want to. You know you going to. It’s been two years.” She grinned. “I saw how he was looking at you on the fourth. Like he wanted to bend your ass right over on that picnic table. Yes god! I would have LET HIM. You hear me?”

“Keisha.”

“I’m for real. I know he fuck good. When he over you with all that weight, and he-“ She clapped her hands in a rhythm that reminded you of an intense session of love making. “You can grab onto all that back he got and just let go. Just EXHALE GIRL. Woosah bitch.”

“Keisha.”

“I know he gone talk you through it too. …you gotta tell me all about it. Or hell move out the way and I’ll give it a go.”

“You’re married.” You nearly laughed but kept it in.

“Damn you right.-“

You laughed then.

“You gotta do it, for the both of us.”

“You don’t sleep where you…well sleep. He’s my neighbor and if things get messy, then I can’t escape it.”

And things always found a way of being messy with you. There was the guy from the supermarket, no you didn’t heed the warning that Troy shouted up at Robin in Waiting to Exhale, nor the warning from the cannibal movie from Hulu. He ended up having a girlfriend, who would go on to flatten your tires.

And then there was Kevin, the principal from your son’s school. You had only gone on one date with him, and it was HORRIBLE. So bad that you blocked him, and now ignore him at PTA meetings. And then there was…

Damn, maybe it was you.

“Yall are grown. If you tell him, hey big fine 6’3 ass man-

“He’s not 6’3.”

“Oh bitch, he’s 6’3. I know a tall nigga when I see one. Anyway, if you just tell the man, hey I just want to fuck…no strings, I know he’ll be cool with it.”

“I’m not a hoe, Keisha.”

“Who said you was! This is grown people business. Grown! If you set expectations in the beginning then no one gets hurt. Grown People business girl. Now…what you waiting for?”

You looked out the window, Terry and Marcus was still playing outside, neither one of them minding your 30 minute instruction that you had given earlier but you weren’t mad. It made you feel warm inside that your son trusted Terry so much, and that Terry was so warm to your son.

“Keisha…I don’t know.” You still were looking outside when Terry looked back at you too. He grinned, and you smiled. Someone could end up hurt…and more than likely it would be you.

“Girl…I told you. Set expectations up front, get what you want and if you don’t want it no more….no hard feelings. Grown.-“

You nodded, deciding to yourself.

“Grown people business.” -----

a/n: i don't know. this should be a series...but I'm not good at finishing stuff, so no promises. i hope you all enjoyed it. mwah. i can't remember the last time i wrote lol, so yeah...

[sl4sh3rsub]

billy lenz hcs (nsfw: mdni)

billy lenz x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: this is set in the mid-to-late 70s, perversion, old school + kinda one-sided phone sex, billy is loud as fuck + a creep + delusional, scent/musk kink, cumming on clothing, copious mentions of cum + precum, using cum as lube, dry humping, extremely dubious consent (somnophilia), masturbation (+ billy edging), oral sex (both giving + receiving, facefucking reeiiving), reader is referred to as 'piggy', p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), ass eating/nondescript tongue fucking (giving + receiving), handjob mention, implied violence (not towards reader), overstimulation (giving + receiving), diy home reno gloryhole, old school cum tribute, foot humping/light cbt??, light bondage (pun), sex toys (for billy), hickeys + biting (giving + receiving)

a/n: kinda edited. happy holidays folks!! this might be ooc but i swear i tried. was gonna add more feet stuff bc it's billy, but decided against it. if you're into that kinda thing, use your imagination - i only mentioned it once and i think that's enough tbh. this one also doesn't have as much literal sexual intercourse as my other hcs (just a heads up) it's been a hot minute since i've watched the film, so the characteristics might be off (i based this on my own interpretation of him and i haven't really read any billy fics recently.. oops) it's a little rushed but i really did try! hope you like it

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

billy got bored of all the sorority piggies and moved, hiding in a mixed residential college dorm building - a creaky colonial-style residence with a spacious attic. the first time he sees you, you're getting dressed to join the other boarders for dinner. billy heard you humming to a radio and peered down between the cracks in the stained floorboard. he's been unhealthily obsessed with you since then <3

billy is an absolute pervert and will sexualize anything and everything you do. from scratching your neck to wandering around your room in your underwear, he's already ogling and muttering how much of a fuckin tease you are

he becomes bolder over time and eventually sneaks into your room at night. after you catch him lurking in the darkness of your room and he doesn't get immediately thrown out, he grows more and more trusting of you. billy becomes accepting of your begrudging attraction to him and he definitely takes full advantage of it :< you reluctantly give him permission to venture into your room if he needs company or an outlet for his pent-up sexual energy - it must be pretty cold and lonely in the attic, what's the harm in cuddling with the lanky man? he's already your dirty secret and at this point, he'd kill for you

his favourite pastime is calling your room's rotary phone during the day and either making mundane conversation with you or having you listen to his rambling as he strokes his cock, not even ten feet away from you. if you start bashfully touching yourself to his babbling or accidentally let slip a moan, tilt your head towards the ceiling so he can see your blissed-out expressions (he definitely cums on the spot)

if you want to get in his good books, put some old cabaret music on your cassette player and give billy a show - whether it's a sensual strip tease or you touching yourself on your bed, billy will be over the moon. as the music ends and the room is quiet - apart from your heavy breathing and thumping heartbeat - little gasps and applause drifts down from your ceiling, making you blush and whisper your thanks

there is not a moment when this man is quiet. in sexual situations, of course he's going to breath loudly, growl and spout obscenities, but even in regular conversation he rambles and expresses his opinions in long, convoluted trains of thought

billy loves it when you're just with him - in reality, you're alone in your room with a creep peering down at you from above, but it's better to let him be delusional. no harm has come of it... yet

don't worry your silly little head about the opaque liquid dripping from ceiling, directly above the bed :< it's either his spit, tears or precum drooling down between the wooden paneling from him constantly edging, the sight of you just existing is enough to turn him on. if it somehow lands on you, billy will cum instantly at the sight of you with his love painting your skin. you look like his perfect piggy, he can't help it :(

he has a habit of dragging his leaking tip over your face while you sleep, smearing his musky precum over your skin for you to smell when you wake. his favourite hobby is staining your skin in his stinky, salty scent - from cumming in your underwear as a way of marking you to wiping off his pre on your lips (as to not stain his boxers), he will make any excuse to clean off his cock on you. if you've been dismissive of him or too caught up in studying, he'll threaten to wake you up by dragging his musty balls over your face. just saying.

whenever he sneaks down to spend time with you skin-to-skin, billy practically goes feral. he's already jittery and constantly rock hard, so expect him to hump you like the degenerate mutt he is. every time you hug or lie next to him, he'll wrap his arms around you and start grinding against you, burying his face in your shoulder. he might not even want to initiate sex!! billy just wants to show his affection and attraction to you :(

billy isn't lying on the phone calls about what he wants to do to you. his inexperience is second to his enthusiasm and need to tongue-fuck you at every given opportunity. your spit-shined, sloppy hole is his favourite view on any day of the week and you bet he's going to make the most of it. make sure to place down a towel under his hips while he goes to town, he tends to leak precum freely and stain your bedsheets whenever you two so much as hug :>

he is a massive drooler, so watch out for the spit puddles on your pillow and mattress after he graces you with a visit. billy is also massive fan of visiting you in the dark - be it night or whenever you have your curtains closed - as he is pretty embarrassed about his constant ahegao face. it's especially prevalent when you touch him just right or suckle on his skin in that perfect spot

billy is constantly babbling about how much you can take his juicy, meaty cock in your tight piggy hole and frantically escalates whenever you pick up the phone. he always describes how he's gonna taste your arousal and fuck you until your legs are shaking, his fingers itching to touch every inch of you. billy's third-person descriptions throw you off a little, but he gets the point across pretty well. his insane squeals and huffs get louder as the lewd, wet rhythm picks up with every passing minute

if someone picks on you, he'll find their phone number and target them with streams of profanities and harassment until they leave you alone and back off. if you come home crying from a bad experience around strangers or tell him of someone who attempted to hurt you, he'll take it upon himself to dispose of them. how else would he rid himself his violent urges? he has to protect you and keep you for himself somehow

expect weird, out of place stains on all of your clothing. from small splatters to large and obvious splotches, every clothing item has remnants of his visits to your dorm room

billy has long-winded phone calls with you, about everything from your life to your interests and favourite things. there's shuffling above you every once in a while, but don't worry about it. it's not possums or raccoons in the insulation, just billy trying to get comfortable - his back aches from craning his neck to see you in, leering from in between the wooden gaps

he will leave you little scribbled notes on crumpled, used envelopes - his barely legible chicken scratch goes on about how pretty you look when he's looking down at you and how fun you are to play with

billy is incredibly touch starved - he'll regift items he finds laying around in exchange for kisses or even a rushed handjob (if he asks nicely enough). the nicer and less dusty the present, the better the reward

his idea of heaven is the feeling of you gagging and choking on his dick, especially the dazed look in your eyes while he fucks your face. the way you catch your breath and let him just stand above you, staring at the mess of cum he made on your face, has his heart pounding in his chest. billy's gaze is one of pure adoration, especially when you have his throbbing cock resting safely in your mouth

prepare to be overstimulated!! he's a fuck machine and will go until he's shooting blanks, or you shove him off to take a break. he is so conditioned from his constant masturbating that he does not get soft after shooting his load - he keeps hissing through the sensitivity as he drills into you like a jackrabbit, hitting your deepest points and sending shivers down your spine. he uses his thick, goopy cum as lube half of the time - he often cums the second he pushes into you, feeling your warmth around him. good thing he has animalistic stamina and strong thighs :>

billy is extremely noisy but will gladly attempt to muffle himself if it means he won't get found out, if it means he gets to stay in the residence - with you - for longer. he's a whiny and breathy moaner though, so never expect complete silence

his pale skin practically glows under the moonlight whenever he pays you a night-time visit. his cock bobs whenever you ghost your fingers over his side and through his hair, precum pooling and dripping down his long length as he gently moves his foreskin back to reveal his flushed - borderline purplish red - cock head. the few freckles scattering his tummy and the wild, wispy brown bush surrounding his base makes him feel pretty insecure about his body - it's not at all like the buff, tan men in the risqué mags or porno tapes. reassure him that he's mouthwateringly attractive, swollen cock and all. the one downside of giving billy head is that his cum tastes very acidic and bitter - invite him to share a healthy lunch of salad and fruit with a healthy jug of water every once in a while, it'll benefit you both

most of the encounters between you two will happen at night or with him partially obscured, but eventually he'll gain enough confidence to emerge from his den and visit during the daytime

he makes a glory hole at the top of the stairs that lead to the attic - he knocks out a section of paneling that's hidden next to a cabinet, perfect for you to hide behind while kneeling :< he's not that considerate though, he still forces you to be vigilant while he makes you choke on his length without a care - you can't give him away, not in a compromising position like this!!

he sneaks into your bathroom and showers with your hair product and soap whenever he feels lonely. he's too musty to change his clothing and wear some of yours, but he's not above nicking your clothes detergent whenever your scent starts fading away.

billy is also in the habit of hiding in the shower behind the partially see-through curtain, lurking - his presence makes you hum in greeting as you wash your hands in the sink. he might stick his hard cock out from behind the curtain and giggle as it bobs just in your line of sight. if you decide to glance up at the tall silhouette while you take him down your throat, you'll see his hands scrunching the material into a wrinkled mess. at least you have billy's musty cardigan to kneel on, bruised knees are never fun

if you fall asleep while studying on your desk, he'll scuttle down and shift you ontop of the bed - he can't have his object of affection feeling under the weather. strained muscles and unnecessary soreness are gonna get in the way of your fun time with billy!

you might think you're going insane from time to time... don't worry though. the giggles, shuffling and faint moans echoing in your head are real, he's living directly above you after all. nothing to worry about :<

he is a little bit of a hoarder and definitely a thief - from strands of your hair on the floor to dirty tissues that landed in the bin after a masturbation session, it all ends up in billy's little gross pile of stuff in the corner of his lair

billy is creepy and definitely sneaks into your room at night to jerk off furiously in the corner - he loves looming in the shadows as his tip leaks like a broken faucet, groaning at the peaceful sight of you sleeping without a care. if he's feeling adventurous, he'll use your limp hand to hold his balls as he drips all over your mattress and strokes his length

whenever he's bored of the stashed porn mags in the attic, billy watches you below as you study and his hand wanders south. he uses your speed of writing as the metronome of his strokes and tries his best to not fuck his hand at the thought of giving you some 'under the desk support'

while you're out in classes, he beelines towards your bed and takes a nap in your bed, cuddling with one of your plushies. you may have caught him mid-snooze more than once, but you'd best not bring up how cute the stinky man looks or else he'll start sulking

billy guilt trips you into paying more attention to him - he needs someone to talk to plus he can fuck you too, what else could you possibly want? you see how needy he is firsthand when you return after class, walking in on him pinching his nipples as he bucks his hips and humps into your pillow. his desperate whines of your name tug at your heartstrings as you coo at his pathetic display. he really does get lonely though - billy likes imagining how it would feel to be hugged by you whenever he's feeling chilly upstairs

he will sit on your face as he gets off on demeaning you, sensually running his fingers over his cockhead as he rests his tight balls on the bridge of your nose. he has a knack for degrading you but isn't able to resist praising you, babbling about how good you're being for him and how hard he is because of you

he scatters polaroid cum tributes around your room whenever he visits without you noticing. all of the photos he took of you are eerie and at angles that could only be explained by him tailing you throughout your day-to-daylife. don't feel paranoid though, he's only wanting to ensure your safety! unfortunately, the evidence of his lurking was too tempting for him... it's now permanently stained with evidence of his lust. hope you like the present

billy asks you to buy him a vibrator for christmas! why- what do you mean no? but he gets lonely, he'll need something to keep him company. would you change your mind if he says you can use it on him too? :>

he cleans up your room to the best of his ability! he's not all altruistic though... billy steals your chewed pencils, sniffs your dirty underwear and swaps out your sweaty pillowcases to cuddle with and huff your scent from later

billy lenz is actually gross. he will want to bend over you and bury his nose into your chest, armpits and crotch after a long day. your sweat is such a turn-on for him, his cock swelling the moment you swing open your dorm door with a tired groan

if he wants to be more submissive to you, he'll beg you to help him cum by lightly grinding your foot into his throbbing cock. billy's bulge may strain against his sweatpants and tears may roll down his face, but the damp patch betrays his filthy arousal as it grows progressively bigger. the moment you comment on his enjoyment, he flushes deep red and his masochistic grin betrays how drunk he is on the pressure of your foot

tie him to a chair with old christmas lights he found in the attic, the glass bulb clinking together as he shivers at your teasing - slowly suck his cock and trail up to his tip with your tongue, edging him to the point of tears. he drools as you squeeze his cock slightly in his hand and scold him for being such a pervert

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but billy never fails to groan how amazing you feel as you clench around him

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'juicy piggy cock' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

if you roll onto your back throughout a night when billy pays you a visit, he'll palm and kiss at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each passing moment. his guilty pleasure is dragging his tongue along your length and hearing your bleary whimpers

find two dildos that have a similar size and shape as you! he is pretty inexperienced in same-sex relationships, so why not help him practice? it'll be much easier for him to train his hole and gag reflex if he can practice on your size, even when you're away from your dorm :>

billy gets extremely jealous whenever you speak to anyone ever :( if he catches you planning a date or even talking to someone else, he'll whine a lot more than normal and sniffle down the line the next time you pick up the receiver. he might be able to pass it off as his normal attitude and shenanigans, but you know him better than he gives you credit for. invite him down to your room, cuddle him for a bit and fuck him into the mattress to show how much you care - whisper about how good he's being for you and mark up his neck with love bites

tangle your fingers in his hair as you kiss down his jaw, guiding him to sit in your lap as you shift in your seat and buck up into him. watch as his eyes roll and his tongue lolls as you hit his prostate over and over, fucking him dumb so easily

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him down to the balls

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy cunt' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

billy cums all over your pussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark his territory your whole body

he wants you to sit on his face!! billy will eat you out like no tomorrow, throbbing and leaking uncontrollably into your sheets. he slurps and sucks on your clit until you see stars - despite his inexperience, his vigor and obvious enjoyment makes up for his sloppy movements

he squishes and squeezes at your tits as he sits crisscross on your mattress, staring in fascination. his excitement visibly increases at every mewl and whine from your mouth, jolting at your louder noises and chuckling at your breathless gasps. the softness of your breasts always catches him off-guard, his constant need to cum all over your chest becoming more and more obvious

the lewd sounds of him stroking his cock and you fingering your cunt are all the more prevalent whenever you're lying down together and he's spooning you. he's panting into your hair, wrapping his free arm around your waist from behind as you circle you clit firmly. the obscene, sloppy sounds echoing throughout your room end up on replay in both your heads for the next day

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him to the hilt

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'wet piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

billy cums all over your boypussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark your skin up as well. he's a notorious biter and will not shy away from leaving bruises to ward off competition

he loves cornering you against your wall in the middle of the night - everything from the feeling of your arousal coating onto his fingers as he jerks you off, to the sharpness of your teeth biting into his shoulders as you muffle yourself. his favourite part is feeling your muscles slowly relaxing as you come down from your high

he suckles on your tcock as you leak down and coat his chin in your cum. billy will be a menace and run his cockhead against your hole and use your precum to jack off, coating your heated skin in his thick spend

he loves hearing how ruined the both of you become whenever you fuck yourself on his cock - he has the perfect vantage point to watch you bounce on his lap as he digs his fingers into your waist, sloppy sounds echoing around the room as his balls slap against your ass. billy's panting whimpers sound so pretty as he grits his teeth whenever you clench on his length

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you clench around him. he has a habit of burying his nose in your hair whenever he bottoms out, needing to be drowned in your scent and the feeling of your pussy

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

if you roll onto your back throughout the night, he mouths at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each throb against his lips

he will swipe a lipstick or two for you - the sight of you with it smeared all over your face after a rough facefucking makes him giggle with glee, the pigment staining the base of his cock. he thinks you're all the more beautiful when he gets to ruin your makeup after you're all done up for him

billy latches onto your tits whenever you're shirtless - he loves leaving teeth marks and bruises around your nipples, practically marking his territory. he especially loves when the purple love-bites peek out over the cup of your bra :>

he loves bending you over your bed whenever he fucks you, your face buried in your pillow to muffle you loud noises as your girlcock dribbles all over your sheets. it's not like billy isn't making a mess either - his drool flying everywhere as he fucks you in a frenzy, balls slapping against the back of your pretty thighs. no matter how much or how deep he cums in you, it always dribbles back out of you and stains your bedding with the drying droplets

_ _ _ _ _

if modern day billy lenz had a ph account and made videos of him masturbating in the dark (while making his weird noises and shit), he would have a solid fanbase of weirdos who find it creepy and hot. i'm saying this as someone who would watch him religiously btw :>

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

[bountycancelled]

something more than friends

(lucy gray baird x reader)

tip me on kofi if you feel so inclined

requested: yep, I hope you like it anon♡

content: a little bit of angst but mainly fluff, men (derogatory), kinda lovesick!lucy gray, jealous lucy gray (we love to see it), pretty intense description of kissing but no smut.

warnings: a very brief mention of drinking, internalised homophobia but it doesn't last long, gay stuff (duh), lowercase intended I know boo I'm annoying.

a/n: I haven't read the book yet so idk much about the covey so their appearance may ooc but that's solely due to my lack of knowledge on them

lucy gray baird never faltered when she sang.

there were very few things that could get under her skin when she was on that stage, strumming her guitar and twirling in her skirt as the district folk stomped along to the beat.

sure, sometimes drunkards and the occasional hung up ex would try to cause a scene, attempting to gain her attention from below, but she would simply roll her eyes, waiting for someone to take care of them so that she could go back to doing what she did best. performing.

so what exactly had happened to make the lucy gray baird, forget a line in a song?

she was quick to remedy her mistake, carrying the tune in such a way that most patrons didn't even notice her mess up. but ironically enough, the very cause of her brain fog noticed. you.

you gave her a worried look, but she brushed it off, willing herself to continue playing as if nothing was wrong. and technically, nothing was wrong. you were there, in the far back of the crowd, wearing a white dress with a drink in your hand. and Lucy Gray didn't mean to be cliché, but you really did look like an angel, something divine that she had the honour of setting her eyes on.

but obviously, she wasn't the only one who thought that.

you were speaking to some man. which was fine, you were always the most gorgeous girl in the room in her eyes and she knew that she wasn't the only one who appreciated your beauty, you were always needing to awkwardly laugh at men's advances and brush them off as best as you could, but you weren't doing that tonight.

you were laughing, a genuine laugh, leaning in to hear his voice over the music, over her singing. she wanted to jump off of the stage and break her guitar over that assholes face, and she couldn't explain why.

she had always known that one day, you'd settle down with a kind man who cared for you (not nearly as much as she did, but that was okay) and then she would see you less and less. but knowing didn't make the taste in her mouth any more bitter.

the first time you told her about a crush that you had, on a boy named Tom, she spent the whole night convincing you that he just wasn't right for you. you believed her of course, rejecting him swiftly the next week when he asked you to go on a walk with him, walking instead with lucy gray, hand in hand.

but then, she did it every time you spoke about a boy, and you started to believe her less and less. 'I think you're just jealous lucy gray, and you don't anybody taking my attention away from you.'

you were right, she was jealous, and the thought of you, with a man, it disgusted her to her core. which is why she took off as soon as her set ended, not even staying for the applause as she searched for you outside.

there you were, and thankfully, you were alone, no undeserving man in sight.

she ran up to you, her brown eyes seemingly sparkling even in the darkened night. "how'd you enjoy the show, darlin'?"

her heart jumped when you smiled at her, your eyes crinkling in joy as you took both of her hand in yours, squeezing them affectionately. "you have the voice of an angel, lucy gray. and I envy the lucky fella who's gonna marry you, and have to serenade them whenever they want."

lucy gray rolled her eyes in a good natured fashion, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach when you mentioned her getting married. "I already serenade you, sweet thing. and im not gonna let some wedding band stop me."

you laughed airily, leading her by the hand towards the lake, where you spent most nights together. you sat down at the edge, laying your head in her lap when she sat beside you. her hand went to your hair, and she fought the urge to by giddy at the sight of your head in her lap, you were just... perfect.

"who was that guy that you were talking to back then? when I was singing, I mean." she asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

you thought back to about an hour prior, picturing every person that you had been with throughout the evening as you tried to recall who she was asking about in particular. "oh! that was matthew, his dad and my dad go way back, but the two of us never really shared their closeness for whatever reason. but after speaking to him tonight I'm a bit upset that I never tried to grow a friendship with him earlier."

she nodded, her cherry glossed lips pressing into a thin line. "he doesn't just wanna be friends with you though, I could see it." you scoffed playfully, raising a brow at her curiously. "you were all the way up on stage, in the middle of your favourite song to perform, and somehow, you could tell that much from so far away?"

she opened her mouth to defend herself, but after realising just how insane the notion sounded when you phrased it in that way, she quickly closed it again. "I'm not gonna let any man take me away from you, lucy gray, believe me when I say that I can't live without you."

your words sent a fury of butterflies in her stomach, and she swore that felt dizzy as you picked your head up, moving your face so close to hers that your noses were almost touching. she wanted to kiss you. god, what the hell was wrong with her? how could she be thinking of you in this way?

despite her inner conflict, she made no moves to create some distance between your faces, selfishly wanting to stay like this for as long as you'd let her. "I wish we could get married." she sighed, her eyes widening at her own words. "I meant- not like, I didn't mean- not in, like, a husband and wife typa way-"

you cut her off with trying to, with a tilt of your head making her suck in a sharp breath. "you don't wanna do husband and wife things with me?" you asked, and she could swear that your voice had a certain tone about it, one that made her cheeks feel blazing and her breaths shallow.

she shook her head, her usually fierce tone reduced to a meek almost whisper. "we can't do those stuff together."

you were too close for comfort. she could feel the tip of your nose against hers and if you leaned in any further, she was sure that she would combust. "who cares if we can't? the more important question is, do you want to?"

inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. she had forgotten how to breath. this wasn't right, she knew that, so why were her lips on yours in a flash, her hands in your hair, around your waist, holding your hands, touching any part of you that she could reach as the two of you kissed? in public, no less?

she couldn't find it in her mind to stop, not when your soft, sweet lips moved in tandem with hers as if you were molded to fit each other. when you pulled away, with lucy gray chasing your lips with an involuntary whine, you held her by the shoulders, a look of concern on your face.

that was when she felt it. the guilt knawing at her stomach, and the tears that flowed down her face. was she crying because of how overwhelming her feelings were for you? maybe it was because she knew that you would have to hide... whatever had just happened between the two of you.

you leaned your forehead against hers, you sweet voice easing her fear. "I love you." she nodded, not being able to say it back just yet, but she could only hope that you knew. she moved to kiss you again, being startled out of her mind by a girlish scream in the distance.

it was maude ivory, eyes wide and hand slapped over her mouth in shock, with an equally suprised tam amber standing next to her. lucy gray felt sick to her stomach.

"I knew it." tam Amber said with a shrug, moving to sit next to the two fo you as she stared out at the moonlit lake. "no one looks at their friend like how lucy gray looks at you."

"can I be the flower girl? and the maid of honour? and the priest?" maude ivory rambled, laying half in lucy grays lap and half in yours. you simply laughed, explaining that her dream wasn't exactly possible but flower girl was certainly doable as lucy gray watched, tears threatening to fall from her eyes once again. only this time, they were of relief.

the joy she felt in her chest, at the thought that you could be... together in front of the covey was the best gift she could possibly be given. you and her, together. not just as best friends. although it was hard to wrap her head around it, she knew that it was exactly what she wanted and she had it on good authority that you wanted it too.

[soledads-graveyard]

you're beautiful // caitlyn kiramman x f!reader

hey so i wrote this to take place pre season 2 so... idk there's probably some inconsistencies and yea lowkey ooc sorry its late on a Monday like my brain is not in the room with us that said, cait is such a baddie like omf

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Caitlyn watches you from a couple paces away as she mindlessly fiddles with her dress. She feels an immature twinge of jealousy as you chat with Councilor Medarda across the ballroom, grinning and laughing as you speak animatedly about... something.

Ever since you had entered the Piltover politics scene, showing up at formal events and things, people couldn't take their eyes off of you. Caitlyn was no exception. You stuck out in a room full of rich, stuffy entitled folk, most of which were always looking to further themselves even if it meant tripping others on the way to their goals. You had something that so many politicians in Piltover seemed to lack, always seeming down to earth, genuine, and most of all empathetic; with a complex understanding of the issues in both your world and the undercity. You had no secrets, openly sharing your desires and dreams with the public. Some admirable traits, Caitlyn thought. She idly wondered what you and Mel could be discussing, but soon found herself not-so-discreetly admiring all of your facial features. She watched your subtle movements and analyzed your every mannerism- as if to memorize each detail. She loved how the corners of your mouth twitched upwards as you smiled, how concentrated and immersed you seemed when you were in conversation, how the whole ballroom despite its grandeur seemed to illuminate when you laughed.

Without warning, you look in her direction, breaking her out of her trance. She feels a hot spark all throughout her body when your eyes meet, her pulse quickening as you politely excuse yourself from Mel. The thump in her chest only quickens as you make your way towards her, greeting her with a cheeky smile. Gods, that smile. She quickly takes a sip of her drink, hiding her reddening cheeks.

You seem shy at first, asking her about what her job as an enforcer is like, but soon, the conversation between the two of you flows as smoothly as a bottle of luxurious wine. You talk about the undercity, about your favorite spots in Piltover, about your families, about anything and everything, navigating through topics like liquid; beautifully chaotic, talking just for talking's sake. 'You're beautiful,' she says without thinking, causing you to smile. She finds herself thinking that she would go to the ends of the world to see you smile over and over again. As the night goes by, the world melts away, leaving the two of you in a world of your own. No rich folk, no crowded ballroom, no worries. It's perfect here.

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let me know if this is dogshit pls

wc: 430

[thewomanwholaughed]

LIKE THIS POST FOR A VALENTINE'S GIFT FROM AUNTIE J IN YOUR INBOX!!

[boyswillbebuggsorsomething]

If I Saw Him, I’d Still Kiss Him - Pt. 2

Spencer Reid x M!Reader 

Summary: After you and Spencer reunited, you started becoming close again, however a bad night out led to you getting closer much faster than you thought.

Warnings: Vaguely inspired by If I Saw Him, I’d Still Kiss Him by McCafferty but specifically the last verse, cursing, drinking/alcohol consumption, R needs healthier coping mechanisms, R is drunk, drunk person written by someone who does not drink and only has experience with angry drunks and people who turn into a bad folk band while drunk, allusions to casual sex/hooking up, mentions of fighting/violence and subsequent injuries, no physical descriptions for R other than having hair and having had previously broken his nose, R & Spencer’s past is somewhat inspired by Trees & Trees II by McCafferty (but that isn’t really expanded upon in this, it will be later though), probably ooc, so many commas, NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

A/N: Y’all, R is kind of just bordering on being a functioning alcoholic at this point, he really needs better coping mechanisms, however it will be explained why he is the way he is soon, and he will get better. Also, I’m sorry if this was inconsistent, it was written over the span of multiple days with very little re-reading as I have been busy with art stuff and finals. Thank you so much for all the support you gave me on the first part, I’m glad y’all liked it! The ending kinda sucks but most of it I like, I'm sorry it took so long to release. Thank you all so much for reading!

Word Count: 6093

.......

Mornings with Spencer had become by far your favourite thing in recent weeks. 

Ever since you two had reunited, you had started seeing each other more and more. It started as just coffee once to catch up, simple really. You told him about all the places you’ve lived in since he left Nevada, pointedly excluding the exact reason behind why you moved around so much. You’d tell him soon. You told him about what brought you to Virginia, a job offer writing as a proper journalist, the best paying job you’d had in a long time. He told you about the years leading up to his position at the BAU, the years spent at school, the academy, all that good stuff. He also told you about his team, the ones you saw only briefly that night at the bar, his second family. You learned quite a lot about them, and despite having never met them, you had already started picking favourites, but you wouldn’t admit that to him. 

One coffee became two. Two became three became five, until every day that he wasn’t on a case you got coffee at the little shop that was the perfect distance between his apartment and his office, even though it was a little out of the way for you. He always got his coffee with too much sugar, sweeter than you’d ever seen anyone else take it, and you got tea. You never could get into coffee the way everyone else did, you always thought it tasted burnt. 

Sometimes, when Spencer wasn’t paying attention, you’d study his features in greater detail. The way his almond hair would curl just a bit at the ends, showing its natural texture the slightest amount. It would forever confuse you why he chose to straighten his hair when you knew exactly how lovely it would look natural. The way his mouth flattened out when he smiled, and his eyes twinkled with the most gorgeous spark you had ever gotten the chance to see. The way he spoke with his hands, and fidgeted with them endlessly. You had especially grown to love the way his face grew pink when you complimented him. You hadn’t intended to fluster him so much when you told him how pretty was, but he hadn’t experienced your affinity for compliments in a decade, so as a result you got the most beautiful smile and a lovely, bashful “Really? Thank you.” in response. After that, you’d taken to complimenting him more often, just to see that glimmer in his eyes, like a puppy who’d been called a good boy for the first time. He still wrinkled his nose when he smelled cigarettes on you, despite his best efforts to hide it, and it was so pitiful at times that you would let him lecture you on the hazards of smoking. You liked listening to him talk anyways, even if it was a mind numbing monologue about how you were killing yourself. Usually it wasn’t though. Usually it was about a case or a book or a documentary or Dr. Who, which he still hadn’t convinced you to watch yet.

Today was no different. You were sat across from each other at the same table you always sat at, you and Spencer had both sworn off all unnecessary change in this routine. His large hands were wrapped around the mug, steam emanating from it and filling the air with the sweet scent of his coffee. You had an herbal tea clasped in your hands, hoping desperately its calming benefits would help you with the stress of the past week.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked after you had yawned for the third time during the conversation you were having about Sherlock Holmes, as you had recently picked up a full collection of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s works, much to his elation.

“Yeah, sorry. Work’s just been a lot lately, y’know?” You chuckled slightly, a bit self pityingly, and you mentally kicked yourself for it. Spencer, as much as you had grown to love him all over again, was still a profiler, and had this horrible habit of profiling you without realising, and he had plenty to say about the way you laughed at yourself anytime you felt anything at all.

“I understand, I’m sorry,” his brows furrowed the slightest bit and there was genuine concern behind the statement.

“Nah, you don’t need to feel bad or anything. I knew what I was getting into, and honestly it’s not that bad. I mean, you hunt down serial killers for fuck’s sake, writing an annoying article is nothing. Just exhausting.”

“Exhaustion, especially exhaustion caused by work induced stress actually has a lot of adverse health effects, like migraines, worsening social abilities, and can even affect other aspects of your life, including productivity, so actually your work being stressful and exhausting can be making your work significantly harder which in turn makes it more stressful and exhausting, which really just gets you stuck in a loop of burn out that is incredibly hard to get out of.”

“Thanks, Spencer. You really do know everything, huh?” You smiled, shaking your head in response to his encyclopedic knowledge you know for a fact he was simplifying for you. 

“Thank you?” He tilted his head slightly, and you couldn’t help but laugh. He really was like a puppy sometimes. It was sweet though. And you were glad he learned to take your teasing as compliments again. The first few times you had gone to the coffee shop, he had been horribly apologetic about whatever you ended up teasing him for and it made you feel utterly horrendous to have made him feel bad over something so sweet. 

You opened your mouth to respond before the shrill ring of his phone began, interrupting your lovely conversation. 

“Hotch?” You asked as he picked up the call, earning a sympathetic, tight lipped smile and a nod in response. 

And with that, your daily meet up was ended. Spencer gathered his things, apologising profusely for having to leave despite your constant assurances that you didn’t care, his job was more important than coffee.

Sometimes you wished you were a better liar.

…………………

On most cases in recent weeks, you’d call or text Spencer daily, making sure he was okay and providing levity to the grim situations. However, the night he’d gotten back, he hadn’t gotten a single message from you, let alone the usual call where you demanded he told you exactly what happened to him so you could ensure he wasn’t injured or dead. You’d only been in contact now for a couple months, eight weeks or so, he couldn’t expect you to constantly be in contact with him, but routine was important to you both, always had been, and it felt strange that you wouldn’t at least text him when he landed. Something felt wrong and he was getting worried. 

Morgan noticed first, as Spencer’s brow furrowed and he drummed his finger against his thigh. He rested his large hand, warm and comforting on Spencer’s shoulder.

“Hey, pretty boy, you okay?” The warm tones of Morgan’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

“I am. Just worried about a friend. I think something might’ve happened? I don’t know though. He usually calls or texts when the cases are over, and I haven’t heard from him since yesterday morning.”

“I’m sure your friend is fine. He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself, Reid.”

Spencer nodded, trying to believe Morgan, but something was eating away at the back of his mind.

Could you really?

He’d met you for the first time in a decade when you were trying to get drunk enough you couldn’t think. You seemingly had no other friends in the state other than him, save for coworkers you never put in the effort to see unless you had to. You smoked until you were wheezing daily, and refused to even try to quit. In all the time he’s seen you, he hadn’t seen you drink water once, just tea, alcohol, and the occasional energy drink. You really weren’t the greatest at self preservation. Never had been. He doubted you ever would be.

Just as he was getting stuck in his head, his phone rang, and much to his delight it was your number. His face must have lit up, because Morgan grinned at him.

“See, kid? Probably just got wrapped up with his own job or something. You worry too much.”

Spencer agreed, until he actually picked up the phone, “Hello?”

“Hey, Spence,” you slurred on the other line.

 Something was clearly wrong. He was vaguely aware of Morgan’s face dropping, his brow creasing, but his focus was on your call.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothin’, nothin’, don’t worry. I’m okay. ‘M okay. Sorry for callin’ you like this” you laughed slightly, but it was bitter and hollow.

“You’re not okay, you’re slurring your words, and you sound completely out of it. Have you been drinking?” Spencer’s voice was stern, there was kindness beneath it, but his worry and annoyance was equally clear. 

“Jus’ a li’l bit, Spence. Not- I’m okay.”

“Stop,” he interrupted, voice softening, “Please.”

You simply hummed in response.

“Where are you?”

“Bar.”

“Obviously. What bar?”

“Uh, the one I saw you at. Tha’ one.”

“O’Keefe’s?”

“Mhm. Can you pick me up?” 

God, you sounded pitiful. He regretted having taken the subway when he had gone to work, before the flight. You’d mentioned offhandedly once that the subway made you sick sometimes, and he really did not want to risk that with your inebriated state.

“I don’t have my car with me,” Spencer murmured somewhat apologetically, even though he had no hand in your poor choices to get this drunk. 

“Oh.”

At that horrible, broken tone your voice possessed, he looked to Morgan, holding the phone away from his ear for a moment.

“What is it, kid?”

“Would you be able to pick my friend up from O’Keefe’s? I don’t- I don’t know why he’s there or why he’s so drunk, but I know he can’t stay there. He’s really bad at not getting himself in bad situations. Or even just bring me to find him? It’s alright if you can’t, I understand it’s weird to pick up a drunk guy you've never met-”

“Hey,” Morgan cut him off, smiling reassuringly, “I can definitely do that, where am I bringing him?”

“I don’t know his address, just bring us both to my apartment?”

“Of course,” He smiled before continuing, “Hey, and I get to meet the mystery man that’s somehow gotten Spencer Reid to willingly use technology everyday, who wouldn’t want that?”

Spencer offered him a small, tight lipped smile, quietly telling you he was coming to get you and hanging up before they made their way to the elevator and subsequently to Morgan’s car. The drive was mostly silent, Spencer’s mind running a mile a minute as he tried to figure out why the hell you would do this when you couldn’t even guarantee you��d have a way back home. His hands moved in tandem with his mind. Wringing and tapping. He wished he could somehow drive to you while also being up and moving. 

When they pulled up outside of O’Keefe’s, Spencer practically jumped out of the car to go to you. You were crouched in the spot you had stood next to him that first night, your head in your hands and clearly worse for wear. He jogged over to you, crouching down and placing his hands on your shoulders, jolting you enough that you looked up at him. Your eyes were glassy and half lidded as you looked up at him, a drunken haze softening your expression. Most jarringly, however, your lower lip was split and a trail of dried blood was smudged across your upper lip. You smiled up at him, sighing slightly.

“Hey, Spencer, you came.”

“Of course I did, Wha- what happened?”

“Got in a little fight, ‘m okay,” You slurred in response, blinking up at him.

“C’mon,” He muttered, hoisting you up, making you slump against him a bit, “I’m not going to make you explain all this right now, not when you’re this drunk, but we are going to get you home, and cleaned up.”

You hummed in response, stumbling slightly along with him over to Morgan’s car. He helped you in, resulting in a copious amount of thanks from your end, which made Spencer flush slightly in embarrassment. He then slid into the seat beside you in the back, rather than in the passenger seat where he had sat on the way over, watching you through the corner of his eye.

“What the hell happened to him, kid?” Morgan looked bewildered, concern etched into every groove of his face.

“I don’t.. Know. He said it was a fight, I don’t want to interrogate him while he’s drunk,” Spencer groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face, watching your slumped form in the other seat.

“Well, he seems great already,” The somewhat concerned sarcasm was practically dripping from Morgan's words as he adjusted his hands on the wheel and began to drive off. 

“He’s usually not like this, I think- I don’t know why he is tonight,” Spencer’s eyes were trained on you, a slender hand resting on your knee comfortingly.

“Y’know, I can hear you,” You murmured in a sing-song voice, glancing up at Spencer and laughing that same hollow laugh.

“Sorry-”

“What’s your friend's name? You didn’ tell me. I wanna thank him.”

“His name is Derek Morgan, he’s one of the members of my team. I told you about him before,” Spencer explained calmly.

“Derek’s a stupid fuckin’ name,” You muttered quietly, earning a bemused scoff from Morgan, continuing in a louder voice, “Thank you for driving me home, Morgan. I ain’t calling you Derek.”

“No problem,” He laughed, nodding when you introduced yourself, slurring your words as you did so.

The conversation lulled, and your eyes drooped closed, your head resting against the window. Despite your drunken state, you found your thoughts surprisingly clear, muddled, but clear enough to make sense of. Decidedly, this was the worse outcome than not being able to make sense of anything at all. You didn’t like this in between state. The one where your thoughts were jumbled and loud and screaming for attention and not one could do anything to make you feel better. You wanted to cry and laugh and scream and break something all at once, but you wouldn’t. You had enough of your wits about you to not trash a stranger's car, or fight with your only actual friend, or pull any of that shit no matter how appealing it seemed in the moment. You were different now, better. 

Eventually Morgan pulled up in front of Spencer’s apartment, earning a slew of thanks from both Spencer and yourself as he helped you out of the car. You leaned heavily against Spencer as he guided you into his building, the lanky man keeping you as steady as he could while you were seemingly dead set on just falling face first on the ground.

“C’mon,” he murmured calmly, “we’re almost there. You cannot just lay in the middle of a hallway.”

“You are not the man I thought I’d be spending my night with,” you hummed, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Not mad though.”

“What?” 

His confusion earned a small laugh from you as he continued to drag you through the halls of the building until stopping in front of his door. You stepped away briefly, leaning against the wall so he could unlock the door. 

“Thank you, Spencer,” you hummed in a sing-song voice as he guided you into his apartment.

“Of course,” he sighed, “I’m gonna get you some water and then a first aid kit, okay?”

“You don’t need to, ‘m okay,” you grumbled, kicking off your shoes.

“You’re injured, for one, and it’s actually very important to drink water after getting this drunk, it helps prevent any dehydration and helps your body rid itself of toxins. Both of which are beneficial to your health and can lessen your hangover symptoms tomorrow,” Spencer explained as he sat you down on his couch and stepped into his kitchen.

“You’re too nice to me. I’m just fine,” you sighed deeply, slumping against his couch.

“Getting drunk and fighting someone while drunk with no way home is very different from being fine,” he stated sternly, a touch of confusion colouring his tone at your insistence, as he filled a glass with water and brought it over to you.

“I did have a way home at first,” you took the water, not wanting to fight him on this when his eyes were so wide with worry.

“What do you mean ‘at first’?”

“He was drinking just as much as me, I wasn’t gonna get in a car with a drunk driver. I might not be a genius, but I ain’t that stupid,” you explained, drinking down the water steadily, “You’ve got good water,” you added absentmindedly.

“Thank you?” He couldn't quite tell what the appropriate reaction to the complement(?) was, so he just went back to the kitchen to grab his first aid kit out from under the sink, bringing it back over “But who were you going to go home with, I thought you didn’t know anyone here? Not well, at least,” Spencer sat beside you, tilting his head in that puppy-like way.

“Mm-mm. Didn’t know him.”

He took a second to understand, momentarily confused at why anyone would be going around with someone they barely know, the amount of cases that started that way- 

Then it clicked. 

“Oh.”

You nodded, sipping at the water more gingerly now.

“I’m very glad you called me then. A random guy is definitely not worth a major car accident- Actually, I doubt any guy is worth getting in a car with a drunk driver with the mortality rates and amount of crashes caused by them,” Spencer smiled reassuringly, setting his hand on your knee comfortingly before he opened up the first aid kit to clean up your split lip and wipe away all the dried blood. 

He took out one of those alcohol swabs and asked you gently to turn your head towards him so he could access your face better. Spencer took his time as he cleaned away the blood and grime from your face, holding your jaw softly in a way that made your breath hitch ever so slightly. His touch had this wonderful, calming quality that was so distinctly Spencer that you could recognise it in any situation at any time in any place. As he finished, he offered you a sweet little smile you felt obligated to return, regardless of your state. 

“Thanks for getting me,” You murmured softly as he packed up the kit and set it aside.

“You’ve already thanked me enough times, you’re my friend, I wasn’t going to let you stay in a dangerous situation like that for any reason at all.”

“Too nice to me,” you decided, setting the glass down and shifting to lean against him, “You’re warm.”

“Thank you? You confuse me sometimes.”

“Good.”

He smiled warmly and hesitantly moved his hand to rest on your shoulder, holding you gently to his side. You reacted well, curling up against him, resting against him how you did years ago on days where you just couldn’t bring yourself to sleep the night before. It was a comfort you hadn’t realised you missed so much in your time apart. You sat there for a bit, your eyelids heavy as he gently rubbed your arm. Your brain had quieted down in Spencer’s hold, his own mind running a mile a minute as he tried to come up with a reason for you to be this drunk on a random day of the week, other than your complete lack of care for yourself and your safety. His apartment had an environment that felt foreign to you, a warm blanket enveloping your whole being and permeating your soul. The walls were lined with books, additional texts stacked on every surface imaginable and strewn around regardless of where they were, as though he had placed them down without thinking as soon as they were finished and moved on to another book. Even the air itself had an electricity that made everything seem warmer, not really temperature wise, but warm like the feeling in your chest when you were with someone you loved, that kind of fuzzy warmth. You liked his apartment, it felt like a proper home.

“You should get some sleep,” Spencer murmured softly, shifting a bit to let you lay down.

You frowned slightly, hesitating before mumbling, “You should stay out here with me. I don’t like sleeping by myself. And I’m really comfortable on you.”

Spencer paused only briefly before relaxing again, “Okay, but you need to let me get up so I can change out of my work clothes.” And to move you to not the couch.

You groaned dramatically before sitting back up and letting him go to his room to change. When he exited the room, rather than sitting down with you again, he grabbed your hand and brought you with him to his room, letting you sit down on his bed.

“As much as you seemed to like the couch, I think my bed is probably a lot more comfortable and you won’t have to deal with any discomfort from sleeping on a couch when you wake up tomorrow,” he explained, his lips pulling into that kind, tight lipped smile that he tended to get when he was in some way nervous about what he’s said or done.

You hummed, flopping over onto his bed and yawning slightly, “Thank you.”

As he slipped into the bed beside you, you relaxed against him once more. If it was anyone else, you would have felt a strange sleeping in their bed entirely platonically, but with Spencer you simply felt like you did as a child, back when you’d fall asleep against his shoulder during class or recess. Had you been any less inebriated, or even put more than two seconds of thought into it, you also would have realised that Spencer, the most germ averse person you’d ever met, was letting you sleep in his bed in the clothes you had been sitting on the street in after drinking your mind away, and letting you touch him while doing it. But in the moment, you were only focused on the comfort of his slender hands holding you, the soft sheets he had draped over you both, and the enveloping darkness surrounding you once the light was clicked off.

… 

Spencer held you as you slept for a long time, reminded vividly of your shared past as he did so. It was all so painfully familiar he almost didn’t care about the stench of alcohol and cigarettes that clung to your hair and clothes. 

Almost.

But he could hardly care, not when you looked so peaceful with him, not when you had asked him so sweetly to stay with you. So instead he simply observed you as though if he didn’t memorise each detail of your sleeping face it would be gone from his mind as soon as he looked away. Logically he knew that couldn’t happen, not with an eidetic memory like his, but he still wanted to keep all the ways your face had changed and all the little ways it stayed the same ingrained in his brain. He gently traced the slope of your nose, which, while similar, was a bit out of place as though it had once been broken. His pale fingers moved over your cheekbones which sat the same, if not more defined with age. Spencer continued to deftly trace each and every feature, lingering where he noticed small differences he wanted to commit to memory, like the lines beneath your eyes that had been exacerbated by years of poor sleep, or the small valley between your brows where your eyebrows spent so much time furrowed together. 

For once though, in the time you’ve been together, you looked peaceful. Truly peaceful. Your features softened with sleep and the comfort you had so clearly been denied. In all your efforts to lie and seem put together, you could never fool him. Not even because he was a profiler, though that did play a part, he just remembered your tells from your youth, all the little behaviours he knew like he knew his own mind. It was clear the years had not been kind to you, even if your self destructive habits hadn’t already tipped that off to him. There was a level of hurt behind your eyes that couldn’t be kept back with the walls you so carefully built up, and Spencer knew you’d need to confront it before you broke. He just needed to know how. 

However, that was for another night. Now, all he was to do was hold you close and keep you safe.

………………… 

Unsurprisingly, you woke up feeling like absolute shit. Your head felt like it was being split in two, and the obnoxious city sounds and the incredibly strong scent of coffee did very little to help with that. As you reluctantly opened your eyes to the morning light, you noticed the glass of water and aspirin set aside for you on the cluttered bedside table. It took a moment, but as you glanced around the cozy, organized chaos of the room, you became vaguely aware that Spencer had taken you home from the bar. Sitting up with a groan of discontent, you took the aspirin and water and swallowed it down quickly before standing up from the bed. You ignored the swirling way your head spun as you made your way out of the bedroom with the grace of a drugged rhino. Which then alerted Spencer to the fact you were no longer passed out in his bed.

“Oh!” He exclaimed with far too much energy so early, as he noticed you emerging from the room, “You’re up.”

“Mhm,” you grumbled, voice hoarse with sleep and lingering discomfort, “Thanks for the aspirin. And the water. And the bed. Y’know what? Just- Thank you, Spencer.”

“You’re welcome, of course, I definitely didn’t want you just dealing with a hangover the way you seem to deal with most things. Y’know, without any help or much of any support at all really,” He explained, the pace of his words a bit too quick as he gestured vaguely with his hands.

You scoffed a bit before scrubbing your hand over your face and offering him a small smile, which he returned, albeit a bit awkwardly.

“I can get going now, if you want. I don’t really know what time it is, but you probably have work and I feel like kind of a dick invading like this and making you do all this shit for me. Besides, it’s probably smart for me to get back home, I need to water my plants and probably work on- I dunno, something, I probably have work to do that I can’t think of right now,” You huffed a small, self deprecating laugh.

“Well, if you want to go home, you can definitely leave, I won’t stop you, but I was actually wanting to talk to you about what happened last night, if you would be willing to?” He stammered, that endearing nervousness radiating off him in waves.

For a moment, you debated just up and leaving. You most definitely weren’t looking to delve into why you were getting drunk off your ass on a random night. Or getting into fights. Or going home with random guys just to not be alone. None of that seemed appealing, not while in full tip-top health, and definitely not while hungover. However, Spencer looked so hopeful and so genuinely worried that it tugged at your heartstrings just enough to keep you there. Besides, maybe it would be nice to be vulnerable with someone, and if it had to be anyone, Spencer was the person for that. He was the only person you really had right now. And you really weren’t looking to push him away again.

So you nodded instead, earning a hopeful smile from Spencer.

“I made you some tea,” He offered you a mug, “It’s the closest to what you get at the coffee shop, but I didn’t have the exact same kind of tea.”

“Thank you,” You told him genuinely as you took the mug, the comforting warmth enveloping your hands. 

Grabbing his own coffee, Spencer brought you to his couch, setting out coasters for when and if you sat your mug down. Settling into the spot you sat mere hours before, you stared across at his kind brown eyes as he studied you intently. He had on a front of calm, however it was very clearly a front, as his fingers tapped at his mug incessantly. 

“Why were you at O’Keefe’s last night?: He asked, trying desperately to not sound like he was interrogating you.

“Getting drunk, I think we went over that last night?”

“Well, yes, obviously,” He chuckled nervously, “But I meant why? I mean, when we first saw each other again you were also getting drunk but that was due to stress from your job, which you told me twice after the fact. So why were you drinking last night?”

“I was, uh, trying to forget some shit.” You sipped your tea gingerly, allowing the hot liquid to calm your nerves and soothe the ache in your head.

“But what? You don’t really seem like the type to drink daily, not that you can always tell, but you don’t show the signs of someone who gets blackout drunk constantly,” Spencer explained.

“I don’t. I just-” You sigh, hesitant to explain, “When I do drink, which is like, once every month or maybe every three or four weeks, I get really drunk. I save it to cash it all out on one night, y’know?”

“Okay,” He nodded.

“Look,” You started after a deep gulp of tea, trying to lay things out as concisely and vaguely as possible, “Yesterday was the anniversary of when I officially left Vegas, and Nevada as a whole, and I haven’t been back since. It doesn’t bring back great memories that I do not want to get into, so I wanted to drink and have a good night with someone and not fall asleep alone and cold because I just really fucking hate that. So I drank, and I was gonna go home with a guy until he started drinking a lot and I was like, hell no, and didn’t.”

Spencer nodded kindly, the most understanding look in his eyes despite the furrow in his brow. 

“Why did you get into a fight?”

“Fuck, is this an interrogation?” You muttered without thinking, sipping the tea in an attempt to chase away the hangover migraine that the constant questions were only aggravating.

“What? No, no, of course not, I just want to understand, I don’t want you getting yourself into dangerous situations that you don’t need to be in. And a lot of cases can start a lot like someone young and alone who is inebriated who gets approached by someone charismatic and appealing, and I would very much prefer if you stayed safe and did not end up as a photo in an investigation,” Spencer explained in one breath, setting down his coffee as to not jostle it as his hands moved, “You don’t need to keep telling me, I’m sorry if I was prying too much, it was just extremely worrying for you to call me like that and then to see you drunk and bloody without explanation.”

You sighed, nodding in understanding. Spencer would never intentionally try to piss you off or hurt you in any way, he just worried and wasn’t great at expressing his emotions. He always had been like this.

“No, no, I’m sorry. Shouldn’t’ve snapped. You’ve been way too nice already, I’m sorry,” Your voice was little more than a grumble, but you were genuine as you possibly could be, “I barely remember what started the fight, it started verbally, y’know? And when I wanna be mean I can be a fucking dickhead, so I was yelling at some guy for probably no good reason, I dunno, so he punched me. I hit back, and y’know, fight ensues,” you shrugged, sipping your tea, your fingers itching to grab a cigarette, but no matter how nice it could be, you would never smoke around Spencer when you knew how much he hated it.

“Nothing hurts, right? Or, well, more than it should? I know a split lip can’t be pleasant while talking, but other than that, you’re not in pain?” He asked tentatively, setting his hand between you with seemingly little thought.

You set your hand atop his gently, managing a tight lipped smile as a full one would most definitely make the split lip sting terribly, “I’m okay Spencer, thank you for helping. Just hungover as hell and suffering the consequences of my actions,” You chuckled self deprecatingly, setting down your mostly empty mug.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. The water and aspirin helped a lot, so did the tea. I think my best choice is probably to just sleep it off as best I can in a dark room with no other input, y’know?”

Spencer practically beamed at your thanks, and your assurance you were feeling alright, “I understand,” He nodded, “As long as you stay properly hydrated, oh and eat, that’s probably smart,” He added, “It will help a lot.”

“Yeah, this definitely ain’t my first rodeo. You’re sweet, though.”

“I took the day off so you can stay as long as you like. You don’t need to, but getting punched in the face and repeatedly hit cannot have positive effects while paired with a hangover, and I think it might benefit you to not get onto a crowded subway or walk around in a busy street when all of that stimuli will just seem so much worse.”

“I don’t wanna overstep or stay too long. I’m not great at telling when I’m not wanted around,” You explained tensely.

“Then it’s great that I’m too blunt for my own good. If you get to be too much for whatever reason, I’ll let you know,” He smiled, and damn him because that smile was just bordering on teasing to the point that you caught it and understood his schemes to be able to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed or hurt or whatever the hell if you left. 

And so you stayed.

…

The day was peaceful and soft and caring and all the good things you wouldn’t accept on most occasions. Spencer let you stay in his room with the curtains pulled and the lights turned out as he kept the rest of the house silent, save for the occasional sounds of pages flipping or footsteps as he went about his day reading and checking in on you. As suspected, you slept most of the day away, only waking when Spencer brought you water, which he was correct that you didn’t drink enough of, and it helped greatly. It was domestic bliss with a man you had known in what felt like an entirely separate life, and yet it felt natural as breathing in practice.

When night fell, he inevitably returned you home, leaving you with a tight but hesitant hug and a promise that you would see each other again soon. As soon as you set foot in your dreary apartment, life only represented by the succulents and plants you forced yourself to care for, you regretted leaving the cozy domesticity of Spencer’s apartment. Where yours was cold, decorated only with necessities and plants, his books and posters and weird art made his home truly feel like a home, rather than a living space. 

As you laid in bed, finally having showered and changed into fresh clothes, you found yourself staring at the polaroids hung beside your bed, tracing the details of your younger self’s face with your eyes, and craving desperately the comforting touch of the boy who accompanied you in those photos, who had cared for you for the past few days.

[lanareadsbooks]

I’m confused about us?

Inspired by this mood board I made 🩷

This is basically just ooc Billy and literally doesn’t fit into the show’s storyline at all but I love me a good cowboy so I had to write about him.

Tags: Dom!Billy Sub!Reader punishments are given, spanking, smut, oral (m) lemme know if I missed any!

It’s 18 something (?? I have no clue when the show is set in) and you’re 19 when your parents decide drop you off with a man you barely know. William H Booney. They said “he’s a the son of some good friends of ours and they said he’ll straighten you right out” I don’t need straightening. You think. Geez you steel one truck and a bottle of liquor and suddenly everyone thinks your a problem. When you were first introduced you thought “hey maybe this won’t be so bad” You. Were. Wrong. Within the first 30 minutes your parents had left you, you couldn’t stand him. He came and sat down in front of your spot on his couch, Ok listen here little girl. He said, You frowned. Little girl? You thought. These are my rules. Follow them and you and me will be just fine. He smiled. No.1 please don’t steal no trucks or anything I have enough trouble with the neighbors around here I don’t need you making that worse for me. 2 Dont back talk me. There is nothing I hate more than an undisciplined girl. Your frown deeper. Though.. I guess that’s why your here isn’t it? He laughed like it was funny. You scoffed. No I’m here because my parents expect me to stay home and clean or embroider. You laugh, And that’s not something I can do every day. Oh? Speaking of that. You’re not gonna be goin out for the first two weeks. WHAT?! You said shocked. Yes mam I think it’s exactly what you need. He said patting your thigh. I need to not go outside? You asked rudely. No you need to realize you only get what given to you. Now I want you to understand if you break any of my rules you gon be goin over my knee that minute young lady. You understand? He asked. You turned red, w-what? You said hoping you misheard him. Yes mam I don’t know about y’all city people but right here when you misbehave you don’t like what happens to ya. N-no you don’t understand, my parents would never let a strange man do that to me. S-so call my daddy and he’ll tell you you’re not allowed to do that to me. You said almost confidently. Sorry sweetheart your folks were real clear I should do whatever need be to make you behave. Tears came to your eyes, but as long as you’re good you’ll be fine. You can do that right? You said to yourself.

No. No you can not.

Less than 24 hours later you found yourself over his lap, it happened because you saw some boys going on a trail ride through the window, you saw one of them had a flask. You thought how bad do I need that, you had been up since 5am thinking about Billy, how blue his eyes were how commanding his voice was (how good he’d fuck you) but that he’d probably never want you. He apparently he saw you as a little girl. Ugh I don’t like older men anyway (wrongg) you thought. As you tried to quietly sneak down the stairs and out the front door. You saw it was locked with a padlock. Shit you thought. Your eyes darted to the window. You smirked, I don’t know what he was thinking I can fit out of these windows easy. As you were lifting the window up all you saw was two hands towing over you and pushing the window back down. Your heart almost stopped. He leaned down to your ear and said. Now what do you think you’re doing little girl? He asked darkly. Uhhhh. before you could come up with an answer. He had picked you up and put you over his shoulder. You squeaked Ah! You yelled. Put me down!- he did in fact put you down… just over his lap. No! You yelled. Oh hush. No need for a tantrum now. I’m not having a tantrum! I’m a grown woman and you can’t do this t- you were cut off by him putting his hand over your mouth. You tried to wiggle your way out but he easily lifted up your skirt. And you felt a warm hand on your bottom. His hand rose, and fell quickly, alternating cheeks. If there was anyone else in the house they would have definitely heard the loud smacks! Billy was giving you. And your muffled cursing. After about 4 minutes of him doing this you were about to cry. You tried to get away but to no avail. He easily pulled you back to position and gave you two extra hard slaps. And kept going. He finished soon after you started crying. Your bottom stung. Nobody had ever done this to you before. It didn’t hurt that bad but the humiliation hurt He brought you back up and sat you on his lap, you quickly adverted your eyes down as to not make eye contact. But he harshly grabbed your face smooshing your cheeks together, listen, he said dominantly like he was scolding a child. This or worse is gon happen every time you disobey me , you let out a light sob just thinking about it. So I’ll let you decide whether or not you want this kind of stuff to keep happening.

No I really do not you thought.

It was two days later when you ended up in this position again. Billy had jokingly bought you an embroidery kit. And you had not so jokingly told him to fuck off. So he threatened to wash your mouth out with soap… what ? You said. I said you better watch your tongue or I’m gon have to wash your mouth out. He said dominantly. You suddenly felt very wet.. and figured what’s the worst that could happen? There are other things of yours I’d like in my mouth more sir. You said in a lustful tone, while looking up at him from your spot on the bed. Literally two seconds later he was unzipping his pants, he used your mouth roughly holding your hair in a ponytail. After he had came in your mouth and regained himself. You stood up and grabbed his shoulders, pressing yourself against him your body asking him for more- huh? You thought as he quickly sat and pulled you down and back over his knee. W-wait Billy- you tried to protest as he cut he off. Hush. Was all you heard before your skirt was lifted and smacks rained down on your poor bottom. “Luckily” for you it was a lighter one than your first but you were still confused. He was spanking you like a disobedient child. Not like a woman that had just sucked him off. “I’m confused about us” you thought.

This is it for today I’m totally planning on making this a series so request anything that would make sense in the story line once I get a few I’ll write part two so the more yall request the faster I’ll write. Also if you guys want to make any mood boards more this id love it! Also my request have been a bit wonky lately so if it doesn’t seem to be working just dm me please! Thanks for reading!

[piningpercussionist]

Whoah, what?!

*Kim quickly stands up from the kit, crossing her drumsticks in front of herself sort of defensively as she scrambles back a couple steps, nearly tripping over her stool.*

What fight?! I don't remember-

*Suddenly, Kim recalls a message she received back in the early hours of the new year...*

Oh you've got to be shitting me... I THOUGHT THAT WAS A JOKE!

(ooc: the following takes place some time after the last roadtrip thread posts and before any asks I've assigned with a "nebulous future" placement. Enjoy!)

[LEO'S PLACE, TORONTO, CANADA]

"I DON'T FEEL GOOD!"

As Stephen shouted out the last line, Kim let a grin cross her face; that had been a pretty decent performance, in her opinion. In the opinon of their audience too, it would seem, who were cheering and looking up at them eagerly for more. Kim was feeling pretty proud of herself- she'd apparently paced herself nicely for her bandmates, the crowd was soaking it up, and she could spot some familiar faces at the bar from her spot at the kit- each one enjoying themselves, even if it wasn't necessarily because of the band.

Ramona, Wallace, Joseph, Hollie, Neil- she thought she'd even caught a glimpse of Knives at some point or another, near the start of their set. If she let herself admit it, she was feeling warmed, even- genuinely touched to have so many people actively in her life, now. Sure, they still annoyed her, (and at least Wallace was there for Scott, she figured,) but they cared; she could afford them that luxury in turn.

So, when Stephen turned to face her, she didn't drop the grin- she even grinned a little brighter, amused by his brief shock. He shook his head and flashed a grin of his own, waving Scott over so he could be sure the bassist heard him.

"We're doing Herself The Elf next, got it?"

Scott gave him a thumbs up in response before getting back into position, beaming down at his bass. Kim gave him a nod, sitting up a little straighter with a twirl of her sticks; she was starting to get a little tired, but she had a few more in her- the show shouldn't last much longer, anyway. She waited for Stephen to give her a glance over his shoulder- the subtle signal to start- before Kim raised her sticks high over her head.

"ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!"

Kim prepared to get right back into the flow of things, drumsticks already soaring down towards her instrument- when suddenly, she found herself interrupted by a loud crash, and an eeriee feeling of deja vu washed over her...

[moondal514]

hi! do you have any fic recs for the aftg fandom? ideally AUs but where the characters aren’t ooc

Anon you have no idea what kind of blank check you’ve given me with this ask 😂. For the sake of my own sanity I have limited myself to only listing 10 fic recs but please know that there are literally 100s of fics I could rec within these parameters 😂.

the opposite of hunger by constelationprize/ @constelationprize

One would think that, being a necromancer, Kevin Day would be more excited at the prospect of immortality. And maybe he was, once, before he had actually sat foot inside Canaan House.

...

Based on prompt #1, or: "the locked tomb au where kevin and riko are necromancers and jean is their cavalier. they are invited to canaan house by the emperor to achieve lyctorhood, but kevin refuses to perform the lyctoral theorem on jean. riko, on the other hand, has no qualms about it. "

The Locked Tomb au. This fic is just insanely good and highlights how well Perfect Court dynamics work for the Third House and it just blows my mind honestly

if i die young by animediac, dayurno/ @jaywalkers, @dayurno

Kevin Day is sixteen with eyes too human, a gift no one should ever have, and blood Andrew thinks would spill out black over the snow outside. He is standing in the school hallway with a dead boy at his feet, and he is going to die by Andrew Minyard’s hands.

He must. He will.

Kevin Day, singer of bodies. Harbringer of death.

Teen Wolf au. A collaboration between 2 amazing writers in this fandom and responsible for converting me to Kandreil

vengeance and death by cthulu_sun

legend says you have wax-dipped wings and golden fingernails and knives made of the blood you have spilled. legend says you are not merciful.

-

in which renee is a tired guardian angel, finds the foxes, and falls in love.

Guardian angel au. This is one of my favorite Renison fics because it’s such a cool universe written in a beautiful and unique style and I just think it’s one of the most underrated fics in the fandom

Hush, Don't Say a Word by waterwings/ @amywaterwings

Excerpt from local newspaper, January 10, 2016

A Killer Is on the Loose at Palmetto State. Are You Safe?

For a detailed re-telling of the gruesome events that gripped the Palmetto State campus over the past eight months, please see the pages below. But I beg you, dear reader, tread lightly. You don’t know what’s waiting for you, out there in the dark.

~Katelyn Golightly, Student Journalist

Murder mystery au. One of my favorite fics of all time ever across any fandom because the writing is visceral and gut-wrenching, the kind that has you holding your breath and on the edge of your seat as you read it, and by the end of the fic it’s broken your brain in the best way possible

We Can Live Forever by mostly_maudlin/ @mostlymaudlin

PALMETTO HIGH SCHOOL ATHLETIC FUNDRAISER

WINTER SERENADES - $5 EACH

On sale Dec. 15-17 during lunch blocks. Support our teams, and let them show your friends how much you care through choreographed song and dance!

-

Participation in the fundraiser is mandatory for all student-athletes. Maybe none of this would have happened if they weren't pushed out of their comfort zones. (But honestly, maybe it was always going to end this way.)

A story about the joys of competition, the people in your corner, and, of course, the misfortune of being a teenager in love with your best friend.

High school au. My favorite high school au in the fandom because it just makes me so so so happy and I always read it when I need a pick me up

The Real Folk Blues by moonix/ @annawrites

Captain David Wymack and the bounty hunter crew of the Bebop spaceship might be a little out of their depths chasing down the infamous hacker and notorious runaway Neil Wesninski, whose bounty exceeds even Kevin's wildest dreams. Worst of all, Andrew might actually enjoy it.

Cowboy Bebop au. Super fun au featuring the Foxes as space cowboys and copious amounts of weird Andreil flirting

Under A Sea of Mist by puddlejumper99/ @writingpuddle

For a thousand years the Lord Ruler has reigned over the Final Empire. Ash falls from the sky and strange mists shroud the night. The skaa labour in the fields and the nobility dance in their Keeps, their glittering lights blinding them to the cruelty in their hearts.

The skaa rebellion is a fantasy and Neil knows it. The Lord Ruler is immortal; there's no overthrowing him. It's as much a surprise to him as anyone else when he gets recruited. But as he gets drawn deeper into the plot, he starts to discover things that will change their understanding of magic forever.

There's always another secret.

Mistborn au. A fic whose existence still feels incredibly self-indulgent to me because it’s a mashup of 2 series I really love and an au plucked from my wildest dreams

The Sphynx and the Hare by darkbluebox/ @darkblueboxs

Neil knows he should burn Wymack's contract and run until his legs can no longer carry him. His daemon, the mouthpiece to his soul, says otherwise. He's ignored her for far too long; it's time to follow his heart, be it to dream or damnation.

Daemon au. Theeee daemon au of all time, I’ve yet to see any other daemon au in this fandom where I agreed with the choices of animals for daemons this hard

the bittersweet between my teeth by alaynes/ @nicolos

In which Neil Josten is a Time Jumper, and everywhere he goes he keeps seeing one man.

-

Neil's throat dried; the sound of keys rang in his ears, but so did his voice.

Andrew Minyard stared back at him, expression inscrutable.

Time travel/reincarnation au. Time travel au’s are always tragic on some level but this one really takes it to the next level with the way it explores Andreil existing outside of time the way they do; my go-to fic when I need to experience an Emotion™️

The Last Warm Hand To Hold You by sambutwithbooks

When Kevin Day warns him that the Moriyamas will send a monster to collect their star investment, Andrew expects something beastly.

-

Five Times Andrew Asks Neil To Bite Him and One Time He Finally Does

Vampire au. This is to me the vampire fic of all time; idk something about it is ridiculously romantic in a way I can’t help but love

-

Hope you enjoy these anon!

[radioisntdead]

Hey could I request a scenario where the reader is Alastor's niece and the vees have a crush and alastor's reaction to finding out as well as the Vees. Honeslty if you have it where he beats up basically goes ha no for Vals part and beats him up I'd love that

Good evening my dear after writing I'm realizing you may have meant for them to be separate categories but I went love square [???]

Warnings!!

Valentino, the Vee's being weird, OOC, Vox being a voyeuristic creep, reader has deer features

You know after aiding your favorite [and only] uncle in murder and falling to hell while your mother and grandma ascended above, having a trio of overlords falling head over heels for you was NOT on your bingo card.

You didn't notice them having a crush on you until Auntie Rosie pointed it out when Velvette had a large shipment of not only clothing mailed to you but with flowers, Vox had sent electronics and more flowers [that Alastor would have such joy destroying] and Valentino had sent you erotica.

Classy.

Velvette would be the most aggressive in getting your attention, she probably also has the biggest chance to win over your affections, shoving people out of the way to talk to you, affectionately calling you things, giving you a new woredrob every other week, flowers, personally inviting you to her fashion shows and giving you VIP seating.

Vox watches you, I imagine you at least have a phone probably not Voxtech though so I imagine it's probably slightly harder to watch you through that, but with drones and other devices he watches, probably calls you something like Doe-eyes or Dollface, he's called you mini Alastor a couple of times which you did NOT APPRECIATE, once he realizes that Alastor keeps destroying the technology he sends you he switches to flowers, with cameras in them, he sometimes teleports through them and is often met with you swinging something at him and breaking his screen, unfortunately for you he's into that.

Valentino, arguably the WORST one to have pinning over you, dude manages to pop out at the worst times offering to make you a star, asking you to warm his bedroom, uncomfortably leaning in and touching you.

You ripped off his antenna.

The three of them bicker over you in private.

Now after you figured out WHY they were sending you shit and giving you special privileges you immediately snitched to Uncle Alastor because you did NOT want to deal with the whole dumpster fire that was the Vees.

Now Alastor wasn't naive about the Vee's... Affections towards you, again they sent you a concerning amount of things, but he didn't do anything because you're an adult and you can make your own decisions.

But when you come to him saying that Valentino sent you erotica and made you uncomfortable?

Well you are his one and only niece! The only family he has down here! The least he can do is squish a little purple moth for you!

You wonder if restraining orders were a thing in hell and if they'd work.

Now the TV guy and fashionista surprisingly were NOT completely thrown off by their buddy's screams getting absolutely blasted on Alastor's radio broadcast, they kept their simping to a more low-key level with only flowers getting shipped to you from Velvette and weird love emails from Vox.

Vox for some reason thinks asking Alastor for your hand in MARRIAGE, was a good idea.

It was NOT.

He's lucky he didn't meet the same fate as Valentino.

Maybe one day you'd choose one of the remaining Vee's or both if you're into that, or maybe neither.

But for now you'd use their infatuation with you to your advantage.

Good evening folks! I hope you enjoyed and I think it's probably obvious at this point that Velvette is my favorite out of the Vee's.

Am I ever going to write a fic where Valentino isn't injured or straight up dead in some way? No, no I'm not.

Anyways as always thank you for tuning in!