#THE EVIL GRIN WHEN HE SAYS HE KNOWS MORE THAN HIM IS SO REAL

[imaginefear]

the imagineer hanging out with the doctor in a nutshell:

[luveline]

I NEEEEEED MORE STRIPPER!READER X SPENCER

fem, 1.2k

You and Spencer aren't dating, but he thinks you might be in the before. 

"You're home!" you say, clambering at the door to slip out of your shoes. You throw yourself at him as soon as you're close enough, the salted caramel and sandalwood of your new perfume washing over him. "You're here! I missed you." 

Spencer tries not to blush. He wishes you weren't so close —his hair is lank from two days unwashed, his five o'clock shadow obvious and embarrassing. If you notice anything unappealing about him you don't give the slightest inclination, your arms crossing over his back as you drive your face into his neck. 

"I can't believe how much I missed you, Dr. Reid," you say warmly. 

"I missed you too." Morgan would laugh at him for being this earnest, maybe comment on his lack of charisma, but Spencer doesn't know how else to show that he's interested beyond sincerity. 

You step back but work your hands up his neck and into his hair, raking it away from his cheeks. "That's better. I can see you better now." 

Spencer thought he remembered only horrible things from being a teenager, but he remembers this feeling, sweaty-palmed, heart-racing want. You tilt his head gently one way and then the other like you're following the motion of a wave, fingertips scratching in his hair, the sensation stirring the very pit of his stomach. No trace of tiredness remains on your face, only spritely joy to see him. 

"That feels nice," he confesses. He's not weird about it, more friendly. 

Your aswering grin tells him he nailed the casualness he was aiming for. 

"You've been working hard," you say, tucking his hair behind his ears and dusting down his shoulders, "I can tell. You look tired." 

"You don't. Short shift?" 

"Is it weird that bad weather genuinely keeps people home? I guess they prefer their wives when it's cold." 

"No, really? Who could ever pick the woman they married over you and those silver shorts?" he teases, peeling out of his sweater.

The shirt underneath is rumpled, but he doesn't care about that. Anything to be seen between you has been seen. Spencer has, unquestionably, seen you half naked. You've seen him in his boxers, so you're just about square. "Idiots, all of them." 

You're staying with him again while a security company fits your apartment with the appropriate trappings. Or, that was the initial reason. Spencer went with you to assess after it was done, discovering black mould in the corner of your bedroom and spreading its evil way across the bathroom ceiling. 

What is that? he asked, knowing what it was, hoping you'd at least pretend to be concerned. 

That's fifty bucks off a month, Spence. Don't look so horrified. 

"I missed you," you say for the third time in as many minutes. "And I hoped you'd be home, so I brought Chinese food for two."

You and Spencer change into pyjamas, and it's cliche but whatever, you look beautiful undone —he's not stupid enough to lie to himself about how he feels when you're wearing your little outfits, but he prefers this side of you a thousand times over because you like it better. You wear your prized baseball tee, white with blue sleeves, and a pair of sweatpants pushed up high on one leg while you ice your sore knee. He sits cross legged opposite, jabbing his chopsticks into one of your crispy spring rolls just to watch you gasp. 

"Can I ask you something too personal?" 

You rub down the length of your naked calf, sighing as some of the tension releases. You're more bruise than girl lately, splodges of tender skin patterning the inside. "What don't you know about me, at this point?" you ask. 

Like it's a good thing. Like you're glad for it. 

"Are you making enough money?" he asks. 

You steal back your spring roll, answering him through rice paper and greens, "Kind of. Not tonight, but enough for dinner. I'll be okay." 

"Did you think about it?" 

You shovel through your waxy box of rice, shrugging. "I thought about it, but… it's not realistic. What office would take me? What drug store?" 

"I could loan you the money while you apprentice, and get some experience, you could go back to school–" He says it all in a rush and you still knock him down. 

"It's real sweet of you, Spence, it is, but I couldn't let you do that. That makes me your charity case, and not your friend." 

"What else do you do for the people you care about?" he asks. Let them stay at a job they don't like, even if they're good at it, one that puts them statistically at higher risk for femicide or assault? 

"I wouldn't need a loan, Spencer, I'd need more than you have," you say gently. "I'd have to start my life from scratch. How would I pay rent? You couldn't afford to keep us both." 

"You could stay with me again." 

You shake your head. "You're the best friend I've ever had, which is why I'm saying no." 

He doesn't get what you mean, but you finish your dinner and help him clean up. He more than trusts you to stay here alone while he's on a case, you've honestly left it in better condition than you found it, and he insists you sleep in his bed again while you're here. 

"Don't be silly," you say, throwing a sheet out over the couch. "This is your place. You need to sleep in your own bed." 

The disaster is that it smells like you. Spencer says goodnight to you reluctantly and leaves you on the couch with every throw blanket he owns, climbing into his own bed and pulling the comforter up to his nose. He imagines you here at night, your body wash still clinging to your skin from a late night shower, your hand tucked under his pillow. There are so many things he'd like to give you, if you'd just let him. 

He spends a quiet thirty minutes like that, missing the warmth of your skin and your casual touching, wishing he could offer you the fresh start you desire, even if it meant he wasn't involved. 

The couch springs creak as you toss and turn, the sound finding it's way down the short hall from the living room slash kitchen to his bedroom. Hesitant, Spencer shifts in bed, hitting that one coil in his mattress just right, the twang resounding.  

You appear in his doorway with your borrowed pillows crushed to your chest not long after that. You don't need to ask, Spencer doesn't need to answer. He can't give you everything that you want, but he can give you a quiet, comfortable night next to someone who loves you. 

Ever well-tempered, you slip into the sheets beside him and curl up toward him, your fingertips brushing his side. You don't look at him in the dark, but you mumble sleepily, fingers twitching, "Night, Spence." 

You're out like a light. 

[say-al0e]

Hypothetical

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Eddie asks a lot of hypothetical questions, just to hear your answer. The answer to this question was more real than you wanted to admit. Warnings: Tiny bit of self-doubt, idiots to lovers. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader (think it could be read as GN but just to be safe) Word Count: 2.7k

“Would you fuck my clone?”

The question, asked as casually as if he were inquiring about the weather - though, to his defense, he’d asked weirder - rose above the sound of chainsaws emanating from the television and earned a confused frown as you spared him a sideways glance.

Eddie’s attention remained mostly on Leatherface, chasing unsuspecting victims, but you caught his curious glance as you laughed. Those were the first words spoken in over an hour, certainly a record for your verbose best friend, and you couldn’t help but ask, “What the fuck, Eddie?”

“What?” From his position at the end of the couch, feet propped on the coffee table and head lolled onto the cushions, he shrugged. “It’s a simple question. Would you fuck my clone?”

A beat of silence passed, in which you realized this was one of those moments where Eddie wouldn’t let the question go until he was given a satisfying answer, and you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the question, Eds,” you countered. “Isn’t it usually, ‘would you fuck your own clone’?”

With a dismissive wave of his hand and a scoff, Eddie finally sat up and turned his full attention to you, screaming teenagers and chainsaws forgotten now that he had something better to capture his attention. “That one’s boring,” he reasoned. “We know all the arguments. This is a different question, new arguments.”

“I think we’re fine without arguing,” you teased, reaching for the nearly half-empty bowl of popcorn. “Just watch the movie, Eddie.”

From the corner of your eye, you watched as a look you couldn’t quite recognize flickered across Eddie’s face. However, just as quickly as it appeared, it was covered with a raised brow and a teasing grin. “We’ve seen it a hundred times already. Anyway, what I’m getting from this is, you would fuck my clone. Interesting.”

Eddie did little to hide his amusement as you rolled your eyes and tossed a piece of popcorn at him. “I didn’t say that,” you argued, despite yourself - despite knowing that you were walking into a conversation you weren’t yet sure you wanted any part of.

A hum, unconvinced, met your ears as he reached for the bowl and plucked it from your hands. “Okay,” he prompted, ignoring your outraged huff. “So, tell me. Would you?”

There were a handful of ways you could respond to his probing. The first, shut down his question with a point blank refusal, phrased as a light-hearted joke that did little damage to his ego and even less to your already fragile nerves. The second, play into his game and debate the pros and cons of sleeping with his clone, the ethical ramifications, the conversation he clearly wanted. Or, the third, admit to him a fact that you’d concealed since the summer of 1984.

Any way you could have him, real Eddie or clone, you would take it.

That was, solidly, not in the lead. So, you opted for the second approach.

“Jeez, Eds,” you sighed, stealing popcorn from the bowl now resting on his lap. “I don’t know. Maybe,” you conceded. “Depends, I guess. Is he, like, total you or some weird, kinda fucked up clone? Like, is he totally evil or incapable of coherent thought or, I don’t, off somehow?” As an afterthought, you joked, “More so than the real you, anyway.”

“Rude.” There was no bite in the declaration, only a fond amusement that made your chest ache, but you did your best to ignore it as he hummed. “Clone’s a totally normal, complete carbon copy. Everything about him is exactly the same, down to the last hair.”

“So, no aspirations to rule the world or become, like, the next Leatherface?”

Eddie grinned. “That’s my backup plan, you know, if music doesn’t work. So, guess it’d be his, too,” he admitted, only breaking into laughter when you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “Seriously,” he relented, “nothing weird. Just another me. Everything you know and love, times two.”

With a sigh, you lifted your legs onto the couch and hugged your knees to your chest. “Then… I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely audible over the screams still echoing from the television. “Maybe?”

“It’s a yes or no question, babe,” he reminded you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he studied you. “Shouldn’t be this hard.”

That look, the one that you had difficulty placing, returned and despite your uncertainty as to what it was, you were certain that you didn’t like it very much. Doubt, or maybe hurt, were the closest emotions you could identify though neither made much sense to you in the moment.

Still, rather than ask, you rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of this conversation?”

There was none, it was just for fun - a debate, like the thousands of others you’d had over the course of your friendship - and Eddie said a much as he shrugged. “Isn’t one,” he declared, offering you the last handful of popcorn. “I just want to know if you’d fuck my clone.”

When you refused, he returned the bowl back to the coffee table before reaching for your ankle. With a gentle tug, he encouraged you to rest your feet on his lap as his fingers began to tap a beat that only existed inside his head against your skin. “Why does it matter?”

Eddie shrugged once more, though this time, he glanced at the television rather than you as he answered. “Because I asked and you always answer.”

“I do,” you relented, sighing as you also spared the screen a glance. “Well, what’s the right answer, then? There has to be one.”

This time, he shook his head as the tapping of his fingers grew a touch faster. “Right answer’s the true one.”

For a moment, you simply studied Eddie. His side profile, bathed in the warm glow of the television, was the picture of concentration as he watched a scene you’d seen a thousand times before. Only, you knew him well enough to see the telltale signs that he was in no way paying as close of attention as he should’ve been.

The slightest tick in his jaw, the quick bite of the inside of his cheek, the delayed blinking; all signs that he was waiting more intently for your answer than he wanted you to believe.

Rejection - no matter how hypothetical - never seemed possible when it came to Eddie. So, you sighed and conceded, “Okay, fine. Sure, I’d fuck your clone.”

Eddie hummed, seemingly unsurprised and feigning nonchalance as he nodded as if the answer confirmed something he already suspected. And there were a thousand ways in which you expected him to respond; none of which could’ve compared to him declaring, “So, you’d fuck my clone but not me.”

Again, rejection was not an option. However, you had no intention of admitting to him that you’d wanted him for years. There was no world in which you could see yourself admitting to him that you thought he was beautiful - with his doe eyes and playful grin. Telling him how you felt would likely end in an awkward silence at best and a ruined friendship at worst.

So, you opted for a careful denial. “What? I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re not saying anything to the contrary,” he countered, turning his head to spare you a cursory glance. There was something there, beneath the amused glimmer in his eyes, that unnerved you - something far more serious than you were expecting - but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

When you shot him an unimpressed glance, cutting your eyes at him before returning your attention to the television, he shrugged, teasing grin never faltering. “I never said that. I answered a hypothetical and you’re reading into it.”

Eddie met your perhaps too sharp denial with a raised brow as he gave up the guise of watching the movie. “So, am I wrong?”

“Would you stop putting words into my mouth?” You huffed as you reached for the bowl of popcorn, desperate for something to distract yourself from making a confession you knew you would regret. “I never said that. All I said was that I’d fuck your clone, I answered the question.”

“Okay, fine. You never said you wouldn’t fuck me but it’s never happened. Never even sort of, almost, maybe happened,” he reminded you - as if you needed it. “So, you would fuck my clone but not me. Why?”

“Because we’re friends, Eddie,” you shot back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “I’ve known you since I was ten.” 

The excuse sounded weak in your own ears, but it was all you could muster without breaking down and confessing that you would, in fact, sleep with him. If only he’d ask. If only it wouldn’t destroy your friendship. If only it was that simple.

Still, Eddie was relentless. “But my clone would have all my memories, totally the same person,” he reminded you. “He’d be your friend, just like me. But you’d fuck him. So, why not me?”

“This is stupid,” you huffed. “Why do you care?” He’d never pushed so hard, not in pursuit of a hypothetical question meant to pass the time, and you were genuinely curious why he seemed so interested in your answer, or your lack thereof.

“I’m a naturally curious person,” he argued, shrugging as he squeezed your ankle. “It’s just a stupid hypothetical. C’mon, why would you hypothetically fuck my clone but not me?”

There was little doubt in your mind that he would continue pushing until he got the answer he was looking for, especially as it seemed that he’d already made up his mind that he was right, so you shifted yourself in a huff. With your legs now hugged to your chest, eyes on the television to avoid meeting his gaze as you admitted in a snap, “God, okay. I’d fuck your clone because it’s the closest I’d get to being with you without actually destroying our entire relationship. Happy with that answer?”

“What?” Eddie sounded genuinely surprised and you could feel the warmth of his gaze burning into your skin as you purposely kept your gaze on the television.

“If your clone is you, all your memories, your mannerisms, your looks, I’d fuck your clone because then I’d get to see what it’s like to be with you,” you admitted, words escaping despite every fiber of your being telling you to be quiet. “I’d get everything without the risk of losing you when I fuck it all up.”

Eddie shifted closer then, careful to keep a few inches of space between you but no longer nestled into the opposite edge of the couch as he tipped his head to get a better glimpse of your face. “What do you mean, when you fuck it up?”

Frustrated tears - at admitting a secret you swore would follow you to the grave, at allowing him to get under your skin when he was simply asking an innocent question, at allowing yourself to get so worked up over something so simple - stung at the backs of your eyes as you huffed. “I’m… you know me, Eddie. I don’t,” you sighed, cutting yourself off, before taking a deep breath. “I’m prickly. I don’t do well with romance. I freak out and run,” you reminded him. “Even if you felt the same, if we worked out enough to not have our friendship go down in flames, there’s still a chance I’d fuck it up and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to run from you.”

“Hey.” Eddie shifted even closer, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, and sighed when you refused to glance at him. Regardless, he exclaimed, “That’s why we’d be different.”

“What?” Of all the things you expected him to say, that was the last. With furrowed brows and tears still lining your lashes, you tipped your head to glance at him. “Why?”

“Because,” he began, meeting your eyes for the first time in what felt like hours, “when you try to run, I know what you’re doing. When you get all weird or try to push me away, I know it’s not really you wanting me to go. I know you. I get you, just like you get me.”

“Eddie.”

Of all the ways you’d expected him to react, of all the ways you expected him to acknowledge your feelings for him, returning them was not on the list. For years, you’d convinced yourself that there was no way he would return your feelings, there was no way you would ever be able to acknowledge those feelings without losing your best friend, and there was still a deep-rooted fear that, despite his seeming certainty that his understanding would make a difference, any attempt at a relationship would only end in heartbreak.

That didn’t seem to matter to him as he pressed on. “I’m serious. It’s us,” he continued, this time reaching out to press a hand to your knee. “It’s always been us, always will be us. There’s nothing you can do to get rid of me. Not now.”

“You can’t know that,” you sighed, though it was nowhere near as confident as you hoped it would be. “We can’t see the future.”

“We can’t,” he agreed. “Not yet, anyway, but the nineties seem promising.” When you rolled your eyes, barely suppressing a smile, he laughed. “But that’s the fun part. We do our best to make our own future. It’s always going to be together, might as well come clean and really be together instead of making ourselves miserable pretending.” Before you could respond, offer another half-hearted refusal, he pressed on. “What do we have to lose?”

“Everything.”

Eddie shook his head, completely unconvinced that anything bad would come of allowing yourselves to try. “I don’t believe that. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“How can you be so certain?” You wished you had an ounce of Eddie’s certainty, his true belief that the pair of you could make it, but you were skeptical. Neither of you had much luck in life, neither of you had much outside of one another, and losing him would be far too great.

However, you were tired of pretending that a shared future was not what you wanted. 

The possibility that your future could go up in flames, that you could destroy the best friendship you’d ever had, worried you. It kept you awake at night. But now knowing that Eddie felt the same, that he wanted the same future you did, there was no way you could turn him down.

For all your fear, for all your hesitance, saying no was not an option.

“Because we’ve been in love for years and nothing bad has happened yet.” He said it as if it was the most obvious answer he could give, as if it made all the sense in the world, and if you really stopped to think about it, it did.

“Can you promise me something?”

Eddie shifted ever closer, nodding easily as you reached for his hand. “Anything.”

“Can you promise me that no matter what happens, we’ll always be friends? Even if we don’t work out, if something happens, promise me that we’ll still be there for each other.”

“I promise. Nothing hypothetical about that,” he agreed, corner of his mouth lifting when you offered a soft smile.

The moment stretched around you, nothing existed outside of the pair of you as Eddie tugged you into his side. It was easy, natural, and you melted into his touch despite the fear lingering in the back of your mind.

There was a brief worry that this could be a mistake. That allowing yourselves to intertwine your futures so thoroughly would only end in heartbreak, but he was right. For as long as you could remember, it had been you and Eddie. There was nothing that had managed to wedge you apart yet. And pretending had no guarantee of working in the long term.

So, you decided to dive in to the deep end and allow yourself to truly fall. There was no situation, real or hypothetical, in which he would allow you to hit the ground.

No matter what, you knew that he would be there to catch you. 

________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I spent my entire day in meetings. All the meetings. So many meetings. I also have a dentist appointment on Wednesday and I am Terrified. So have this.

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[aemondsbabe]

Homecoming

summary: reassurance & car sex || you're desperate to have tom before he ships off, but neither of your houses are exactly ideal options...

pairing: tom bennett x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, first time, loss of virginity, car sex, public sex (they don’t get caught, no one else sees, but it’s not in the privacy of a home so ig), fingering, fluff, tom being so sweet actually, v soft

word count: 3.1k

a/n: happy day two of 12 days of smuff!!! tom bennett makes my head spin!!!!!!! Can be read as a part 1 to A Promise is a Promise or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @violaobanion!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A loud peal of laughter erupts from Tom’s lips as the two of you stagger out of the small, neighborhood pub you frequented, each of you calling quick goodbye’s over your shoulders to your friends. The night air was crisp but thankfully not overly cold yet as you take Tom’s arm, your shoulder bumping against his as you step out onto the sidewalk.

“You’re a real firecracker, love, you know that?” He asks with a cheeky grin, draping a long arm over your shoulders as you begin the quick walk back to your family’s place. 

You can’t help but chuckle as you glance over at him, the apples of your cheeks sore from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing over the last couple hours. “‘S just the truth, Tommy,” you shrug, slightly slurring your words, “I just love you sooooooo much! Like, more than anything.”

Leaning in, Tom presses a quick kiss to your cheek and laughs once again when you stumble against him from the movement. “Easy there, tiger,” he mumbles, a soft smile on his face. The two of you amble a bit further in a comfortable, giggly silence as you finally turn the corner onto your street, “D’you love me more than Cola Cubes?” Tom asks, giggling out the words.

You throw your head back and groan dramatically before turning to him with a playful pout, “That is pure evil, that is! Making me think of Cola Cubes during rationing!” You whine, reaching up to lightly smack him on his firm chest. 

Tom merely laughs as the two of you finally come to a stop in front of your front door; spinning around, you let yourself fall back against the white-painted door, the material cool against your back through your thin blouse. You look up through your lashes at Tom, watching as he leans forward, balancing himself against the door with one arm outstretched above the two of you as his other hand comes to rest on your hip. 

“Tell ya what,” he starts, a suddenly serious look in his cobalt eyes as he leans ever closer to you and rests his forehead against yours, “I’ll save you every single Cola Cube I get in my C-rations and y’can have ‘em all when I get back to ya.” 

Your throat tightens at his words and your heart twists meanly in your chest, though you manage to turn your lips up into a small, quivering smile as you place a hand on his chest, the grey fabric of his sweater soft under your palm. “And you promise you’ll come back?” Your voice is softer than you mean for it to be, a slight hoarseness to it from how your throat pinches. 

Tom sighs softly and gently cups your chin, his hand still cool from where it had been balanced on the door. “I’ve only had you for a measly two months, you think I’m giving you up that easily?” He teases, though there’s a certain sadness in his eyes that mirror’s your own; even still, you can’t help but chuckle at his words. 

The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a moment, simply enjoying being close as neither of you are willing to say goodnight yet. After a minute, your breath hitches in your chest as you notice the shadow behind the brunette’s eyes morph into a different kind of darkness as his eyes stray to your lips.

Without a second thought, you lean in and press your lips against his, eliciting a pleased hum from the boy, the small noise vibrating against the hand still on his chest as your other comes up to rest on his shoulder. Both of his skirt down to grab at your hips and he pulls you closer to him, your heads tilting in opposite directions as the kiss deepens. A small whimper escapes your lips as he licks into your mouth, his tongue swirling against your own.

“Tommy,” you whisper, your head tilting further to the side as he presses a line of kisses down your neck, “I… I want you.” You finish shyly, teeth biting into your lower lip as he pulls back to look at you.

His breath hitches for a second before he collects himself. “Are you sure, love?” He asks gruffly, “I thought you wanted to wait till–.”

You shake your head, your eyes searching his as you fiddle with the neckline of his sweater. “Changed my mind,” the corner of your lips quirks up into a nervous smile, “Think of it as a going away present.”

Tom smiles at your words and huffs out a small laugh before nodding to the door behind you. “Whatever you wish, love. Lead the way.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you shake your head again. “Are you crazy? We cannot go in there, both my parents are very light sleepers and if my dad catches you, you won’t even make it to the Navy, much less make it home. Can’t we just go round to yours? It’s only a couple minutes away.”

“No can do, love,” Tom sighs with a shake of his head, “Even if my dad’s asleep, there’s no way we’ll get past Lois. Bloody bat hearing on that one, I swear.”

The two of you sigh, defeated, your shoulders sagging as Tom crooks an arm up, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck as he glances around, the wheels in his head spinning frantically as he tries to come up with an idea; his eyes do a double take as he spots your family’s black car sitting idly on the small driveway in front of your house and he turns to you with a sly smirk.

“What say we christen your dad’s car?”

You start to giggle, convinced he’s merely joking, although you stop when you see the look in his eyes. “Tommy, you can’t be serious,” you say with a surprised smile, “If my dad finds out we took it he’ll–.”

“Who said anything about taking it, love?” He says with a proud smirk.

You guffaw at this, staring at him incredulously. “What, you mean just here on the drive?”

“Well, why not?” He questions, exaggeratedly turning his head as he looks around, peering up and down the deserted road, “You know as well as I do that all your neighbors are old as the hills, love. Only ones out round here at this hour are you and me.”

You stay quiet for a moment, unbelievably actually considering his proposal as you glance up and down the road and well… he is right. Most of your neighbors are quite a bit older and all of their windows dark and still as you peer around. Finally, you turn back to Tom with a sigh, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Fine,” you quip, blushing slightly as he chuckles lowly, clearly pleased with himself, “Let me grab the bloody key.” You mutter with a playful eye roll as you open your front door as slowly and quietly as you can possibly manage. You duck in and quickly snatch your father’s ring of keys off the small table next to the door before quietly shutting it behind you. 

You hand the keys to Tom and follow him down the drive, a sense of giddiness quickly replacing your nerves; the brunette easily unlocks the car and quickly pulls one of the back doors open and slides inside before reaching a hand out to pull you with him.

He pounces on you as soon as you carefully shut the door, his rough hands eagerly bunching up the fabric of your blouse as he tugs it out from where you’d tucked it under your skirt while his lips move frantically against your own. 

“You’re sure?” He pants, pulling back after a moment when he feels your hands starting to tug impatiently at the bottom of his sweater, “We really don’t ha–.”

You press a finger against his rosy lips, cutting him off with a soft giggle. “I want this, Tommy,” leaning in, you trail soft kisses up his jaw to his ear, “I want you.” You whisper, relishing the way he shivers on top of you and the way the muscles of his stomach and chest twitch under your touch as you slide your hands under his sweater. 

With a nod, Tom dives in yet again and presses wet kisses against the column of your throat as he tugs you into his lap, careful not to let your head bump against the roof of the car. He groans at the feel of you on top of him and his hands move quickly as they pull your blouse up; he leans in and kisses wetly up your stomach, right down the middle until he reaches the bottom of your bra. 

His blue eyes are nearly black as he gazes up at you, questioning. A whimper slips past your lips as you answer him with a small nod, fingers threading through his short hair as he eagerly slips your bra up.

He breathes out a low, satisfied groan when your breasts are finally free, not bothering to take off your bra or blouse before he dives in. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, lips pressed against the underside of your breast, “They’re better than I imagined, so much better.”

A giggle spills past your lips before it quickly turns into a moan, your head lolling back as he latches onto one nipple, happily sucking it into his warm mouth with a satisfied grunt. “T-Tommy,” you whisper, already writhing on top of him from a few touches, “Don’t stop.” Your voice is whiny as you speak, only for you to actually whine as Tom pulls back for a second to tug his sweater over his head. 

“Relax, love,” he huffs against your chest, groaning hotly as you squirm in his lap, no doubt able to feel his cock as it hardens steadily in his pants, “‘M gonna give you what you want, gonna do right by you.” He promises, licking over your nipple before sucking at it and letting his eyes flutter shut at the way you gently tug his hair. 

The windows of the car quickly begin to fog up as the two of you move together, your breathy sighs and whimpers filling the small space along with Tom’s harsh pants and groans. You squirm in his lap as his hands make quick work of your stockings and underwear, quickly tugging them down and off your legs before he tosses them somewhere on the floor of the car. 

He looks to you for reassurance once more, which you happily give, before his warm hand cups your center, causing both of you to shudder against each other. Slowly, carefully, he parts your folds before gently rubbing a finger over your bud, chuckling when you buck into his hand with a loud moan. “That the spot, love?” His eyes flick up to your face, eager to watch your reactions as he touches you, “God, you’re dripping.” A soft sigh leaves his lips as he presses his fingers more firmly against you, flicking them over your clit. 

“Mhm, Tommy, shit,” you whine, your voice only a breathy whisper as you press your forehead against his. Your eyes flutter as your hips move against his hand, seemingly with a mind of their own, “More, please!” You whine desperately after a few moments, eyes squeezing shut at the way your center clenches around nothing.

Nodding, Tom moves his hand a bit lower, groaning at how much slicker you are here, before he runs his fingers through your folds once more, making sure to get them wet before notching two at your entrance. “Ready?” He asks softly, only slowly pushing them in once you nod. He groans along with you, marveling at how tightly you’re grasping his fingers as his cock twitches in his pants at the thought of how much tighter you’ll be around him. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he groans lowly, blue eyes glancing down to watch your breasts heave as you pant on top of him, “Does that feel good, love?”

Wordlessly, you nod against his forehead, swallowing thickly. A loud moan is practically punched out of you as he curls his fingers, pressing perfectly against a small, sensitive spot inside you. Your mouth hangs open as unintelligible whines tumble from your lips, a shiver going down your spine when you see the pleased smirk on his face. 

His long fingers fuck into you for a few more moments, his thumb coming up to rub at your clit in a way that makes you see stars as you cling to him tightly, your breasts pressed deliciously up against his warm, bare chest. 

You whine, however, when his movements start to slow against you, though he’s quick to hush you, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your cheek. “You want my cock, love?” He asks, pulling his fingers from you slowly before gripping appreciatively at the fat of your inner thigh. 

You pull back to look down at him, your eyebrows knitting together as a small, nervous pit forms in your stomach. “It… it won’t hurt, right?” You ask softly, the words of several of your friends echoing through your mind. 

Quickly, Tom shakes his head, one hand coming up to cup your cheek lovingly. “I promise it won’t,” he says softly, pressing a reassuring kiss to your lips, “I told you, I’m gonna do right by you.”

Hesitantly, you nod, though he must sense the nervousness that’s still pooled in your stomach. He sighs with a soft smile, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “How about you stay on top, hm? That way you control everything.”

You blink a few times, considering the offer before smiling and nodding, which draws a bright smile from the boy underneath you. You shift back a bit on his lap, giving him enough room to unbutton and unzip his pants and pull them down just enough to free his cock; your eyes widen as he pulls it free from his boxers with a relieved sigh.

“A-Are you sure it’ll fit?” You ask softly, marveling at it as he runs a hand over his length. 

He chuckles beneath you with a proud smirk as he pulls you back to him. “I’m sure, love, I promise you’ll enjoy it.” He assures you, pressing kisses down your neck as he does so. Your breath hitches as you feel the head of his cock prod at your entrance, and you lean into Tom’s touch as you let him guide your hips. 

“Oh!” You shudder as you slowly sink down, breathing heavily as the head slips inside your warm center.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, his hands gentle on your hips as he lets you take him at your own pace, “Doing so well, pretty girl.”

His praises spur you on as you sink lower and lower, eyes squeezing shut as your thighs burn a little with the effort. Finally, after a few minutes, you breathe a sigh of relief as your thighs finally rest on top of his, his length pressing fully inside you.

“Y’okay?” He checks through a ragged breath, his eyes nearly slipping to the back of his head as he feels you twitch and pulse around him already, your walls suffocatingly tight against his length. 

You nod as you let yourself fall forward and press a cheek against his warm shoulder before giving a small, experimental roll of your hips. You gasp as you feel him press against you, filling you with a delicious ache. 

The two of you begin to move together wordlessly, your hands finding purchase against his firm chest as you gingerly bounce on top of him, breathily moaning in time with each thrust. Tom grunts each time you sink back down onto him, one hand gripping at your hip as the other kneads at your breast, his fingers pinching and pulling your nipple just enough to elicit adorable high-pitched whines from you. 

Your clit, still sensitive from his earlier attention, rubs perfectly against the small thatch of hair at the base of his cock and sends shivers down your spine. “T-Tommy,” you gasp, nearly doubling over as you tilt your hips, causing the head of his cock to rut against that sensitive spot within you at the same time your clit grinds against him, “I think – I, oh!” You pant against his shoulder, unable to string together two words as sparks suddenly burst behind your eyelids. 

Tom huffs out a loud groan as he feels you tense on top of him, your walls clenching around his cock wildly as your peak washes over you. He mumbles incoherent curses against your neck as his hips rut up into you. 

He holds out for as long as he can before tugging you off of his lap, one hand quickly grasping at his length as he desperately strokes it. You watch, enraptured, as his head tilts back onto the car seat, his Adams’s apple bobbing beautifully as he moans, long and loud. His cock twitches in his grasp as he finishes, painting wet, pearlescent streaks against the trembling skin of his lower stomach, his chest heaving. 

After a moment, the two of you giggle softly. You bite your lip as he bends over, only to open it in protest as he quickly wipes his spend from his stomach with your discarded stockings, “Tom! You pig!” You admonish, albeit through a surprised laugh. 

He peers up at you cheekily as he deposits your stockings on the floor of the car once again, laughing as he pulls you back to him. “You’ll wash them anyway!” He huffs, wrapping his arms around you. The two of you grow quiet for a moment, rain softly pattering against the top of the car. “Or you could keep them like a trophy while I’m gone,” he teases, chuckling once again at your small sound of disgust, “Something to remember me by.”

“But you’ll be back,” you say softly after a moment, pulling back so you can look at him properly, your wide eyes searching his, “Right?”

He sighs with a soft smile, both hands gently cupping your cheeks. “I promise, I’ll come back to you,” he says earnestly, blue eyes boring into your own, “I will come home to you, love.”

You stare at him for a moment longer before finally nodding, tucking your face against his shoulder once more and breathing in his familiar scent.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter 111 — "meet me halfway."

—Deep Down.

Toc/cw: I want to apologize for the title, but I'm not going to *evil cackling*. Reader is oblivious fr. I love karaoke, you love karaoke, we all love karaoke. Cringe karaoke scene, but idc, karaoke is sexy. You can not tell me ateez doesn't love to be coddled and loved on. suggestive, kissing, yes. kissing. This chapter is all over the place I apologizeeeeee.

A lot of things can happen in the span of two weeks. You know that more than anyone. The boys aren't mad. For some reason, they aren't upset with you either. You want to ask why, but you like the way things have almost gone back to normal. Almost.

It's a week before your heat. You don't think about the effects that are gonna start taking place soon.

Consistently, mingi takes over your bed almost every night and is back in his by the morning. When you ask why, he gets embarrassed. "Can't i sleep in your bed?" You don't know if he gets up because someone keeps kicking him out, or it's just mingi wanting to give you space. You dont live in mingis' mind, so you'll never know. You share the left side with him. It smells just like mingi, lots of mingi, so much so you have the hintest smell of him on you in the morning, sea salt and jasmine. He also moves way too much, yet he somehow never kicks you.

If you happen to wake up in the middle of the night, you will definitely find him with his arm over your head, and you tucked into his chest. If you can, you'll scoot over before he notices. And by the time you wake up, he'll be gone.

Luckily enough, you're the only one with a single room. Everyone else has to share.

You rub your tired eyes stepping out of your bedroom. The sun glares around the living room right across from your door. You take your time walking over to the couch where jongho, wooyoung, and yunho stare at the screen. Each of their eyes shift to you as soon as you pop up from the side of it.

Bed hair, pajamas, and all of it in-between. You don't even flinch. They've seen you like this plenty of times before. There's not much room, so you take a spot on the carpeted floor. "What are you doing?" Wooyoung whines, leaning over jonghos' lap to pull at your shirt. Jongho looks used to him doing that, but he stares along with yunho at you. "I'm sitting," you pout back, pushing his hand off, not yet fully awake.

"Get on the couch, don't sit on the floor!" He leans further, tugging on you some more, his lip juts out, showcasing his true displeasure at the idea of you sitting on the floor. "No," you turn away, pulling out of his grip. You lay on the white carpet, arm tucked under your head. Wooyoung harshly whispers to himself. You know he's probably cursing at you for being stubborn.

It's the big break before the agonizingly long comeback. Actually, thanks to you, the deadline has been pushed back to accommodate the time off for your heat. The media doesn't know that. They only know you are still getting medically evaluated. You miss being okay enough to perform. You'll get that chance as soon as this is all over. And then you'll show them a real performance.

A heavy weight begins pressing on you, and you huff out your air, turning towards the couch. Slowly, wooyoung had crawled all the way over jongho(again, jongho doesn't flinch), and now he's lowering himself over you. Squishing you with his full weight.

On his back is a white blanket. He wraps it around you both. You have to turn on your hip and lay on your back so he doesn't crush you sideways in an awkward plank. "Woo," you groan. "You're crushing me," you pant out, pushing on his chest. He's got the sneakiest of grins on his lips. You're leveled at his chin. His leg falls over your hips, caging you in between his hoodie clad body and the grey sweat shorts he's wearing.

"I told you to get on the couch," he says matter-of-factly, resting on his palm that folloes his elbow right next to your head. This is very wooyoung to do to you, crush you with his body weight, and tease you mercilessly. You pout. "I didn't want to get on the couch" you squint your eyes at him.

"And I didn't want to get on the floor," he sighs, smiling through his pout. His head falls over you. His chin tucks you into his chest. You've escaped this hold before, but you are still tired, and wooyoung is a furnace compared to the cold wood that soaks through the carpet and nips at your back. Your singular arm that you can wiggle out wraps around his strong waist and sits on his back hips. The exposed skin there gets to you, and the closeness of his neck scent glands makes you want to sink further into him.

You rub soothing circles on his hip, unconsciously. Wooyoung takes a deep breath, the air from his nose hitting you on the top of your head. The TV is what everyone's attention is on. Yunho chews whatever snack he's gotten a hold of from the kitchen, jongho tucks himself into the free space wooyoung left. And you and wooyoung are taking synchronized breathes.

All is well in the stillness of the morning.

Touchy, touchy lately are you and all of the guys. Even yeosang. Especially yeosang. Which - wow, really? Yeosang? Yes. Yeosang.

The practice room floor is another area you find yourself lying on randomly. You've caught up on all of your moves and anything you needed to drill into memory. At this point, you're just waiting for everyone to catch up. You watch them through the mirror, the echoing of the music thumping off the floor. Yeosang takes a seat next to you. He sits criss cross, leaning on his hands. His green and black hair frames his face.

You scoot up to place your head on his thigh, curling into his side. Your phone is in hand. Yeosang pushes it to the side with the back of his fingers, getting your attention. You look up to him. His smile is small. You know that look he has when he has a question to ask.

".. Where'd you go the first day after your heat?"

And there it is, surprisingly, yeosang is boldly asking. You turn into him further, sliding your phone down into your sweater. You bury your face into him. Mumbling into his shirt. "What?" He asks, grabbing the back of your head. His hand palms your stray hairs down. He didn't hear what you said.

"I went to the girls.." You grumble, peeking for his reaction. If he had one, you couldn't tell. Yeosangs hand falls into a rhythm, patting and brushing your hair down. He pulls a piece of hair behind your ear, blinking down at you nonchalantly.

"Did you.." yeosangs words fall out. He takes a deep inhale. "Did you call on them?" He whispers, his hand trails to your back. You shake your head quickly, "No.. no," you sigh, closing your eyes. "Actually, I didn't know who to call.. Ghostbusters?" You laugh at your own pathetic joke, yeosangs smile brightens up, a small huff of laughter as well. You turn to lean on your back, pushing his green hair behind his own ear.

"I didn't know who to call on." You repeat, your hands fall to your chest. "Hook up culture scares me, and I'd rather bite my tongue off," you laugh, he smiles. Yeosangs smile is something you'll never get used to, never get sick of. If only you knew he felt the same way about your smile. "Not a fan either," he mumbles. His spread out hand rests on your stomach. You take his palm in your own, wrapping both of your hands around it, and you turn back on your side facing him.

He watches you fiddle with his fingers, pressing them against your own. You hear him inhale before he goes to speak. San cuts him off, with the smack of his palm against yeosangs shoulder. He takes his place by your hip. He pulls your legs onto his lap, holding them flush to his waist. The bend is awkward until you shift back onto your back. "Done already?" You tease, looking at the way sweat drips from his forehead.

"Done? We're just getting started," he laughs.

You love karaoke. Especially on nights like this. Where all the guys aren't extremely tired and willing to put up with mingi, you, and wooyoung begging for it. Especially you. Most definitely you. You love getting your way. Sparkling mic in hand, swaying to the funky but loveable beat of the early 2000s.

"Can you meet me halfway? Meet me halfway." You belt, leaning into it. Laughter consumes you. You take the stage in front of the led screen by yourself even though it's a duet. You know the english lyrics like the back of your hand, but the guys don't. So you're solo on this one.

The rap is your specialty. You put your own spunk on it, swaying your hands and hips to the beat. The all familiar urge to run your hand all the way down yourself to emphasize your deep feelings for the lyrics. The sweats hongjoong gave you to wear hang low on your hips.

"Right at the borderline is where I'm gonna wait- for you -" You point at the guys on the couch, piled up and cheering you on. All eyes once again fall on you, but you're still in your own little world. You're so very grateful you do this for a living. You miss touring. You sway back and forth, getting into the groove.

Your hips follow their own path, and you'd surely have a career in belly dancing with the hip control you have. You lean over, singing into the mic.

"I want you so bad- it's my only wish." You finish off, with twenty seconds of instrumentals you decide to just dance the rest away. Back and forth, you twirl and fall into a rhythm. Eyes closed. The led lights from the tv shape you out perfectly. Swaying back and forth because you're kinda embarrassed that you got so into it.

You take a deep breath, the mic falling to your side as you hold it in your hand. You lean back, looking over your shoulder for the killing pose. You don't even mention the stares. When you bow, everyone seems to shake out of their trance, cheering loudly to the point you know there will be noise complaints.

"Thanks. I'll be here all night!"

You pass the microphone off to wooyoung. Stealing his spot on the squished couch, San is on your left, and on his left is yeosang. On your right is hongjoong, and on his right is yunho. San slips closely, his thigh presses into yours, and you wiggle out of the squish zone. When you do, you semi-slip onto his lap. His hip holds your leg up to the point that you have to shift your other leg under you to get comfortable. You try but fail.

"San, scoot over." You huff, he stops talking to yeosang and turns towards you. He tries buts its no use, yeosang even attempts to help, he gives up though and covers his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. There's no more room on the couch, "sorry" san laughs, "wow, laughing at my misery, thanks" you try to lift your hips, struggling through the cushions and trying to avoid accidently smacking someone with your elbow. San is scooting the best he can, denying your claim with a pout. Wooyoungs voice begins with mingis, an energetic song they scream and laugh to.

"Here," san grabs you, his fingers spread over your waist and hips. He spreads his legs so you can sit between them. He lifts you like you weigh absolutely nothing. You try to help, but he's just moving you and himself to the point that you both are comfortable. He scoots flush to the couch, giving you as much room as possible so you dont squish or rub up against his.. Bits, you're assuming. It's comfortable enough that you don't have to worry about falling off the edge, but just to be safe, you lean back into Sans chest.

"Better?" He asks, his head falling over your shoulder, his breath fans your neck, pulling a slight shudder out of you. His thick arms tighten around your waist just under your boobs. You laugh, trying to ease the tension in your stomach, turning towards him. "we need a bigger couch," he laughs along, leaning over you, now watching wooyoung and mingi sing. San smells like white musk, wood, cedar, and earthy tones, deceitfully, there is the scent of dark chocolate under all of it. You lean into his shoulder, letting your head rest against it. His neck is right next to you, one slight turn, and you could kiss it.

You wiggle a bit, sans sharp breath next to your ear, makes you clear your throat. "Sorry." You lean forward, his hands move down to encircle your waist. Pulling you back. "It's fine, just.. don't move, please," he hushly says, squinting his eyes, his throat bobs when he swallows thickly. His cheeks are dusting pink from the corner of your eyes. The rest of the guys' hollering serves as background noise. Sans scent is a little heavier, but you can't tell if it's because you're so close. The deep chocolatey undertone makes your mouth salivate. You swallow it down. Sans hands are tight against you, pushing you as close as you can get, chest-to-back wise.

His left hand slowly slips down to your thigh. It perks there as if he's waiting for your approval. In front of everyone, distracted or not, San is showing a lot more affection than you know what to do with. You freeze when his breath fans your neck. His chin digging into your shoulder.

He's quickly ripping himself away from you. You jump when he begins clapping, hooting at their finished bow. Mingi lays on the floor spread out, and you laugh to ease the tension wracking your body. When did mingi even get on the floor? He pants and yells a jumble of words. Wooyoung pats his knee and walks back over. "I'm done," he says seriously, shaking his head. He takes his water off the table next to the couch on yeosangs' side.

He slips his muscular thighs onto your lap whilst he lays his whole body weight on yeosang. You stroke your fingers over the ever-growing patch of hair on his thigh, and wooyoung looks at you from the corner of his eyes. You can't distinguish the emotion on his handsome features. "Movie time?" Hongjoong asks, bringing your attention to him when he pats your arm.

For whatever reason, he's asking you specifically. "Yea, who's picking?" You ask, looking up at the taller alpha. His lip sticks out in thought. "You always have the best choices." You shake your head. "That's not true," you mumble, lips curling into a pout.

"Everyone here has good choices.. Oh! Let's all put a paper in a hat"

After coming out of his shared room, jongho won the draw, and because of it, he's pronounced as the winner of the night. He takes you with him on the couch, letting you curl into his side. His arm falls over your forearm, you have his hand in your own hands, his other arm props his head up on his fist. You lean almost completely into him, resting your head on his shoulder-chest zone.

You can see how his eyes grow distant with sleepiness. He's pushing through, though. You silently turn your head to him, "You can go sleep," you whisper. His eyes flutter to you, and he inhales gently, pulling his head off his palm to look at you straight. "No." He shakes his head. "It's okay if you're tired, I can just make an excuse-" "I want to be with you tonight." He's silent even as you stare. The TV flashes across his face when he takes your eyes with his. He means what he said.

His tired eyes shift down your face, landing on your lips. "Will you sleep in my bed?" He sighs out, staring with the heaviness in his eyes he usually saves for performances. His boba eyes shift from each of your own pupils. You inhale a breath, pulling your lips into a shy smile. "Yeah, do you want me to bring my stuffies too?" You say to make him laugh, his lip pulls up into a grin. He finally closes his eyes and rubs his fingers near the inner tear duct of his left eye.

"You can bring whatever, as long as you're there, I'm happy." He mumbles sleepily. You smile, standing up from the couch and stretching.

Whatever this situation you're currently in, you don't know what kind of friends do this or make it seem so romantic and domestic. Jongho just wants you to be comfortable, but you want him to be comfortable. So now, with your blanket and your childish stuffed whale(a fan gave you), you stand on the left side of jonghos' small bed. Arguing with him.

Jongho, just tired. Takes the floor with his blankets and bean bag in hand. "When you said sleep in my bed, I thought -.." You flush at your own assumptions. You can't see jongho on the other side. You can only hear him when he talks, shuffling to get comfortable. He stops abruptly at your words. Whispering in the dark. "You want to lay together?"

His roommates, hongjoong and wooyoung, are still currently watching the movie. They know you two have slipped off to bed. You didn't tell them exactly what you were doing, though. Secretly going to have a sleepover in the room where three alpha men sleep at night, the musk in the room is insanely drowning. You try not to dabble on the specifics of the scents.

"Yes, .. well- i did" you bite your own tongue. God, you sound so desperate right now. Begging jongho to share his bed with you and to actually lay with him in it. "Nevermind -" you take back, jongho stops you. Popping up from the right side of his bed. His hair is messy, eyes wide, but then reserved. He clears his throat. Smoothing his hand over the blanket and getting on it.

You stare for a few seconds. "Well?" He asks, his ears are beginning to turn red as each second passes. You bite your smile. Shuffling onto the bed next to him, you fall right into his side. But try to subtly shuffle yourself under the duvet. You wiggle to get comfortable. Jonghos bed is comfortable yes, but with him next to you. You're starting to think it's heavenly.

Jongho shuffles awkwardly, trying not to bump into you while he sits atop the comforter. You begin laughing into the blanket, watching him struggle to be polite in the tight spot that is his own bed. You sit up, letting the blankets pool around your waist. You reach over the left side of the bed where you dropped your own blanket. Jongho leans over to catch your arm.

"Careful," he clicks his tongue, and you swiftly reach up and let the blanket cascade down on jongho. A fuzzy royal purple blanket a fan also made for you. It smells exactly like your omega scent. Jonghos eyes widen for a split second. He clears his throat, throwing it around him until it reaches his neck.

"Thank you," he says shyly. You smile, digging yourself into his duvet once again. Jongho has a blanket that smells just like you, and you're under jonghos' blanket that smells like him. You don't forget he's right next to you, taking over your senses. You face him while he faces the ceiling.

"Jongho?" You call quietly, he hums, eyes shut. You bite your lip, withholding your question. Should you ask him now? When the question could make things awkward? But this back and forth thing with all of them, is it really something you'll be able to deal with when the time comes to not have them with you? You really want to know, though. Want to know what he's thinking and what they're all thinking. And now that he's at his sleepiest and most compliant, you want to ask more than anything.

"About my heat.. " You sigh and breathe deeply. "Would you have helped if you had known? in the practice room?" You whisper. Jongho shifts in his spot. You can see his hand clench over the blanket, it's silent for two minutes.

"Yea," he finally sighs out. "I would, of course, anything you'd need.. I'd get for you in an instance.. you wouldn't have to wait." You hear his breathing deepen.

"I'd take care of you." His sleepy voice says in the dark of the room. Your eyes fall over him again. His chest rises and breathes deep, slow, methodical breaths. Was he.. Asleep?

"Jjongie?" You lean up to look at him, squinting to adjust to the dark. He's completely passed out. The confession was from pure exhaustion. You wonder if he'll remember it in the morning. Your heart thumps loudly in your ears.

You have more questions than answers, Yet how are you gonna get real answers from everyone else without making it terribly hard?

"Hongjoong," you laugh, pulling away from his tight grip, his fingers once again grip your sides. Dragging you along with him to his laptop, left open on the couch. "Just one minute of your time! Please!" He laughs out, calling your name in a chant. You've been avoiding feeding into hongjoongs overworking attitude, even when you guys are due to comeback and everything has been set in stone. He's still working. You don't even want to look at another screen of beats and codes and orange, red, blue blocks that distinguish what sound is which.

"I'm not going to be in the demo! We're supposed to be relaxing!" You scold, trying to grab his hands from your sides. "Please, you have the perfect set of vocals for it," he whines, begging for you to just say yes. "At least listen to it first. You know I value your opinion most." He lays it on thick, coercing you to say yes, he still tries to tug you away from your marching towards the kitchen.

You click your tongue, pushing at his hands again. "What's in it for me, huh?" You want a bribe. Holding onto the counter and anchoring yourself there. "Anything! I'll do anything!" He says quickly, jumping on the balls of his feet. Hongjoongs grasp is strong. You doubt he knows how hard his fingers dig into your sides. You throw your head back, turning in his grasp to look him in his eyes. "You said anything! No take backs!" You huff, pushing past him and sitting in his spot on the couch.

He follows right on your tail. He snatches the laptop off the spot and sits in it. Hongjoong fumbles with the headphones, slipping them onto your ears for you. You look at him, amused. He's ever eager to show you what he's been working on. "Intro," he gulps, moving his finger to click play.

The ever familiar distinction of beats and hums meet your ears. It changes, heavier this time. You can feel the rhythm in your bones, bopping your head along. You hold the headphones closer to your ears. Watching hongjoongs face to see what he's thinking, he stares at the laptop. Pushing on his lip with his tongue.

The rest of the song isn't as different. The beats change and mix up, but not so much so it's a complete change. When it's finished, hongjoong pauses. Looking up at you through his lashes. "So?" He asks. You smile, shaking your head as you slip the headphones off. "I like it"

The look in his eyes is familiar, the distinctive look of not thinking its enough. You've seen it plenty of times before in his eyes. And every time, he never takes what you say seriously. "I was thinking of switching the chorus with -" he rambles on. You watch him do so, listening silently. You hope he knows you're always listening to what he says. Your hand reaches out to his wrist, his hand stops clawing at the laptop.

He looks up, sighing heavily. "It's really good, hongjoong. I like the difference it has, the way things switch up." You say. Humming the beat back to him.

The sudden nostalgic feeling hitting you like a train drags you back to the memory of meeting hongjoong for the first time. When you barely knew a lick of Korean and he was trying his best to communicate to you about something he was working on. The first two trainees at KQ Ent. Communication was the hardest thing for you.

Hongjoong speaks in riddles to you. You don't know anything about South Korean traditions or mannerisms. Being here was impulsive, and the only person who could talk to you was the manager named jongsik. You nod along as if you get it, hongjoong moves papers off the desk he's at. Making some room for you. Young, immature you helps him do so, stacking the papers.

Once cleared off, hongjoongs chair bumps yours so he can grab the stack of papers you just organized. You hold onto the sides to balance it. He picks out sheets and shows them to you. Musical notes and hangul you can hardly read is messily scribbled on the page. You look up to him expectedly. His eyes shine back at you, locking you in the darkness of them.

He hums a tune under his breath, hoping you'll get it and follow it. You hum back, the same tune he just made.

Hongjoong looks down at your lips. He must have remembered the same fond memory you hold dearly. He hums the tune, eyebrows pulled taunt under the bangs of his brown hair. You smile at him. "It's perfect joong," you shut his laptop, taking it from his lap. He let's you, finally listening to what you say.

"You'll sing it then?" He asks, turning towards you. You run a hand down your arm, hiding the laptop behind you. "Mhm," you nod. Hongjoong smiles, going to reach behind you for his laptop.

You fall against the arm of the couch, caging it between you and the couch. "No, you can't have your laptop back - because! You promised!" You struggle against hongjoong attempting to pull it out from under you. He knees over you, placing it between your hip and the couch. "Let me check it real quick!" He whines, trying to dig his hands between your sides.

Theres a few seconds of you laughing at hongjoongs struggle and hongjoong huffing and laughing as well. Finally, he takes a deep inhale and laughs, his lips pulling into a grin. His hands are placed on either side of your head now as he leans over. "Okay, What's your wish?" he asks, huffing. His breath fans your face. Close in proximity.

"Uhm.." You pretend to think about it, placing your hands on his shoulders. You make eye contact, then look away. "I have .. a question," You mumble, pulling your hands off his shoulders. Hongjoong doesn't move from above you. He doesn't even notice what he's doing. Pressing his knee on the inner part of your left thigh whilst his other presses against your left hip, practically straddling you. You shuffle, pulling your left knee up. You lightly graze your knee against his stomach, just above the button on his jeans.

Hongjoongs throat bobs when he swallows dryly. His beautiful dark eyes look between your own otherworldly eyes. your hands fall on his forearms, glancing up at him. How do you ask what you need to ask? How?

"Can i kiss you?"

Your jaw falls slack, taking in a sharp breath. He's slowly turning pink around the ears. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, looking between your eyes and your lips. "What?" You whisper. He takes a shuttered breath.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks again, more quietly this time, you hear the fabric scrunch next to your head from under his hard grip. You inhale slowly. Looking down at his own plump lips. Everything in this moment is real. You can feel the heartbeat in hongjoongs arm from your firm grip pounding against your fingertips. Your eyebrows scrunch.

How long have you both been waiting for this?

You quiet his racing thoughts, pulling him down into you. That should be a good enough answer, you think. Your lips smack dab into his, melding perfectly. Like they were designed to be there. You tilt your head up to hongjoong while he tilts his down into you. Meeting you halfway. His hand pulls you up into him. Placed gently at the base of your neck. It's odd. The taste on hongjoongs lips is heavy with vanilla. When you move in tandem, the blend of pear tingles your taste buds. Hongjoongs other hand holds him up, and yours fall around his neck, coddling him closer.

Hongjoong nostrils flare as he inhales, the sound bubbling in his throat. He softly prods your top lip with his tongue. You part for him. Letting him explore the cavern that's your mouth. The soft sound he lets out has you responding with your own. Eyebrows crease forward. This is suffocating in all the best ways, leaning into his touch and having him and only him consume you right now. The anxiety of the question completely lifts in hongjoongs embrace.

You pull back to breath, and he follows for one more. Just one, pulling your sticky lip with his own one final time. You heave in his presence. Eyes softly opening. Hongjoongs eyes are heavy, full of adoration, and unspoken words. He stares down at you. His breathing evens out softly. You take each other in. Both dazed.

"Is this real?" He asks, breathing softly. His eyes glance between yours, begging for the truth. You nod. "It's real, we're real." Your hand caresses the back of his neck, playing with the hair there. Hongjoong makes a noise, a somewhat strangled one. His hands curl into your waist, pulling you into him completely, gently. His head falls into your neck as he sinks down onto you. Falling onto your leg. Like you've just drained his soul. "Good," he murmurs, kissing your shoulder softly.

You pull him just as close. The silence doesn't hurt you, and neither does he say anything for a solid minute. "You didn't ask your question," he laughs into your shoulder, gently fanning his breath across your most sensitive spot. You smile. "You answered it already," you say, brushing the hair on the nape of his neck down. He sighs into you.

"What does this change?" You whisper. He pulls back, looking down at you. His hand once again brushes under your head as his elbow props him up. "Everything and nothing," he shifts between your eyes, honestly speaking. "This can be whatever you want it to be" he finishes.

You shake your head. "What do you want this to be?" You ask. He looks back down at your lips, then to your eyes. "I.." he tries to read your face. "I want this to be more," he whispers, putting his heart on the line.

"I want you. I want to be yours."

An alpha admitting such feelings, even when he's supposed to withhold them because its shunned. It's honest and completely true. When he wants to be taken in as a partner, your partner. The one seeking out instead of being sought out. He's the one asking you. Feelings the reversed roles. You nod, taking his words into your heart.

"I want you too. I want to be yours too." You whisper, leaning up to kiss the corner of his lip. "But.." You silently say, knowing you have to be true, he looks at you, worry in his frown. "I love you as much as I love all of our pack," you confess to the pack alpha.

"More than friends," your voice cracks, withholding the waterfall behind your eyes. They blur with unsheded tears. Hongjoongs face going blurring. His hand from behind your head comes up. Calling your name softly. you feel bad, like what you want can't be said. Like it's shameful. Hongjoong pulls away, grounding his knee back into the couch.

He's leaving, you think. He's doesn't think it's okay. Your lip trembles, and your eyes grow the most blurry.

Hongjoongs' hands come up to hold your face. His thumbs swipe under your eyes, pushing the tears out of your vision so you can see him clearer. "That doesn't matter to me," he frowns, and you inhale a sob. "I knew you did, I can tell. I don't mind sharing with them." he laughs towards the end, hoping to stop your silent tears.

"Don't cry," he shushes with a grin, pulling you back into him. You try to stop yourself. He kisses the side of your head multiple times.

He feels the same, and he's willing to involve the members into your very personal, very small, intimate pack dynamic beginning to blossom. God, are you special? You're so happy.

"They like you too, you know." he bites his lip, kissing your lips gently. "We all really like you. It's why we never say anything with the affection. Even if they don't know it, I can tell." He smiles. You don't believe him, the oblivious hongjoong. Cute, sweet, clumsy, captain hongjoong. "How can you tell?" You ask, rubbing your thumb down his cheek.

"Intuition," he hums.

For 3 days, you've been keeping things under wraps with joong. You love him lots. But it's too early to say so. And it's especially hard to hide the flushed looks and the loving glances. You both are trying to find a way to get a confession from the rest of the guys or to see if they feel the same way about the situation. It's odd, though. Having hongjoong, your.. boyfriend? Go out of his way to personally help you know if your other group members like you.

You truly wonder if he does like the idea of sharing you amongst your group, not in a possessive way, more so in a theres-more-than-enough-of-you-to-go-around way

The new feelings are strange and scary, one wrong move. One slip up, and you're ruining your friendship you've worked years to build. You highly doubt that will happen, though. You doubt you will ever want to leave hongjoong. You hope he feels the same.

Lately, San and wooyoung have hit the town, coming back tipsy. You make it obvious you're taking care of them, leaving hangover pills and water by their bedside table like some worried sick roommate. You struggle as you turn San on his side. Frowning at the scent of alcohol on his clothes. You slip his blanket over him, watching his sleepy and droopy eyes blink up at you.

"Omega," san whines, reaching his hand out to grab you. You sigh and sit back on your heels. "Yes, san," you answer, grabbing his hand from mid-air. You've got to be quiet due to the other roommates in the room, passed out, and completely tired from a long day. "Wait," he slurs, kicking the covers off of him. "San!" You go to stop him. He doesn't care. You grab his arms to steady him, watching his face shudder as nausea hits him.

He leans right into your chest, digging his face into you. "'mega, i'll take care of you." You could almost laugh. You're currently taking care of incompetent san, who's completely blackout drunk, who definitely doesn't know what he's saying or that he's squishing his face as close to your boobs as he can get. "I know," you reassure. "Me and woo will do it..." he mumbles the rest under his breath.

"You and woo will do what, sanie?" You try to ask, watching him droop down into you, San does weigh a good amount based on how much muscle he's packed on lately. You haven't been hitting the gym, so you're somewhat struggling to hold him up right now. You huff as you lean him back over into the bed, he wraps his arms around your back, dragging you onto the bed next to him.

You sigh, trying to lean away. "Me, you, woo, maybe yeosangie," he mumbles "everyone" he sighs into your stomach. You feel the heat of his head pressed there. San digs his face into you some more, rubbing his head back and forth across you. Nonsense spills from his lips, and you wonder why you even tried to distinguish it.

"Don't go," he whines as he feels you attempt to pull away. "San, we both have to sleep," you explain the best you can. He shakes his head into your shirt, pulling back to look at you. "Stay," he says earnestly.

"Fine, fine," you grumble, slipping into the bed next to him. Your head leans up against his pillows, whilst his lays on your stomach, clenching into your side. At least he's not on his back where he could choke. But you don't want to think about him throwing up on you either. Your hand strums through his red hair, separating knots gently. Sans breathing evens.

You can hear him mumble every once in a while. His hand clutches your thigh, holding it to him as if you'll escape. Using it to ground himself from the world spinning. He calls your name softly, shifting his head further up to look you in the eyes. "Yes?" You answer back.

"I saw your papers," he sighs. "The heat assessment ones, with hongjoongs name on it" san sounds sober as he says it. Your eyes widen. You know you left that paper in your room. You know you hadn't properly hid it, and when hongjoong saw it in your room. He signed to with your permission. A growing flush to his cheeks as he did so, his beautiful signature locked into your paperwork.

"san, I -" he cuts you off. "Put our names down," he ushers, squeezing your thigh as he says it. He looks up, squinting his eyes. "I talked with Woo and Yeosang about it. They don't want to say it, so I will." he sits up, swaying. The bed dips under him.

His hands land softly on either side of you when he sits on your left. "You can put our names down, i want you to, they want you to, i- if you want to," he emphasizes every word.

"No one else, no other alphas, betas, whatever, no one other than our pack should touch you during your heat. You're off limits to everyone else. You're ours. And I'll bite their heads off for even thinking about it."

You don't think san can bite anyone's head off. But the way he says it is as if he's trying to be as scary as possible. Instead, he's whining through his words, and it almost sounds as if he's scolding you. His eyes squint at you, tapping your leg before he falls back over your stomach.

"If you want to." He says, making sure you know he's not taking the option away. He's just jealous it's even an option. "If you remember this in the morning, you can write your name on the paper, all of you," you make a deal, hoping this will stay and if it doesn't then you know san didn't mean it.

"I give you my full permission to write your names if you remember." You bite your lip. Is this right? You trust these guys more than anyone. More than any hookup, more than any alpha, you know. You know they will not break your trust. Because they're your pack. They're your members. If they don't want it, they don't have to sign it. They don't have to agree if they don't want to.

And you know if san remembers, he can have the choice to pretend he didn't or to go through with it.

You won't know until they sign it tomorrow.

A/n; omg... leaving it on a cliffhanger again(I'm terrible)pls don't hate me this isn't proof read either ;"c next update will take more than a few days so I can gather the storyline and get everything ready before the big heat.(stay tuned)

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather @hyukssunflower (if I forgot to tag you (I'm sorry I'm new to this) :( please lmk!!)

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon (Part II)

(read Part I here!)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Ler!Vaggie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

First: MAJOR thank you for all the sweet notes and feedback on Part 1 of this fic! I was not expecting such an enthusiastic response, and it really made my week! So grateful to be part of this lovely community 💕

As promised, here is part 2... This one gets a little more intense than the last, but it's still all for fun (and Al can handle it 🤭) So excited to share it with you all!

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Vaggie is never quite sure what she's going to find when she hears a commotion elsewhere in the hotel - especially when it's coming from the direction of Alastor's room.

But nothing could have prepared her for the sight of her girlfriend pinning the most powerful overlord in Hell to the floor, tickling him to hysterics.

"Uhhhh..... Sweetie?"

"He won't tell me where he hid it!"

Vaggie just takes it in for a second. "So you're tickling him?"

"How else am I supposed to get it outta him?!"

"That's an... unconventional method, babe."

Charlie pauses her assault to shoot her girlfriend a deadpan look over her victim (who merely remains sprawled out on the floor beneath her, using his reprieve to take in as much precious oxygen as possible).

"You think I'm stupid enough to threaten real harm on The Radio Demon?"

That remark draws a maniacal little chuckle from the crumpled heap.

"Doesn't sound very effective," Vaggie observes.

But Charlie is too busy growling taunts at her victim again, tazing him in the sides. "Sorry, did I say something funny, giggles? Huh?! Did I?"

Vaggie can't help but smile herself at how hard it is for her girlfriend to keep a straight face during her "interrogation." She pokes and prods and scribbles all over the poor man, until his distinctive cackle echoes from the ceiling. And then she sits back on her heels, practically beaming with delight as he continues to shake with residual giggles.

At one point Charlie flashes her girlfriend a goofy grin. "I really think I'm wearing him down."

"Oh yeah. Absolutely, babe." Vaggie leans back against the doorframe with a smirk. "He really looks like he hates this, doesn't he."

As Charlie goes after his ribs again, Vaggie tilts her head. "He's lost his weird radio buzz."

"Oh!" Charlie abruptly clasps her hands to her chest, eyes wide with sudden worry. "Are you okay, Al?"

"Heh - yes, yes, of course..." While he is indeed too drunk on laughter maintain his usual tinny radio filter, the tiniest hint of a wheeze still edges his voice - which surprises Alastor himself more than anyone. His evil cackle is, after all, one of his signature intimidation techniques, and it's never affected his voice before.

But the uncontrolled, helpless hysterics Charlie's had him clutched in is very different from what he's used to. For all his practice intimidating his victims with a well-timed chortle, it appears his genuine laughter is rather rusty.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"

Still breathless, Alastor can't help but chuckle at that too. "...Y-you are aware of what an 'interrogation' is, right?"

Charlie's look of concern drops to a mild glare.

"Alright, babe. Step aside." Vaggie curls a dangerous little grin of her own. "I'll handle this."

As he sees Vaggie striding toward him, Alastor scrambles to sit up. "Wait, wait- Vaggie, dear, can't we-" He presses backward, only to find himself cornered between the couch and the coffee table. "Er- can't we talk this over?"

Vaggie crouches down. "You wanna tell me where Angel's speaker is?"

"No."

Fingernails are crawling up both sides before he even registers movement. Poor Alastor is clutched over cackling within seconds.

Charlie may be a surprisingly effective ler, but it quickly becomes clear who taught her: Vaggie is ruthless.

"Get his tummy, that's his weak spot!" Charlie chirps, not even bothering to hide her delight any longer.

"Chahaharlie!!"

Alastor actually feels a spark of legitimate panic as Vaggie's nails find their way to his upper belly, tracing along the lower edge of his ribcage, sending his laughter silent for a moment.

"Hey, if you really want me to stop, you can just tell me what I wanna know."

"YOou cahan-" (gasp) "-PRY it from my-" (brief giggle fit) "-cold, dead-" (wheeze) "-fingers!!"

"Yeah? I'll show you cold, dead fingers..."

Alastor feels a hand slip under his shirt.

"AaaaAAAHH! No, no, Vaggie don't!"

"Oooh, this is a good spot, isn't it?"

"NO don't do that- please please please..."

"What? You don't want me to do this?" Her fingernails skitter across his bare tummy. The poor man can't remember the last time he laughed this hard at anything - which, for someone who literally hasn't dropped his smile for decades, is a pretty high bar to clear. And he's gotta admit, it's the best he's felt in weeks.

"Don't kill him," Charlie pipes up, "I still need him to help run the hotel after this."

"I'm not gonna kill him." Vaggie leans in close. "I'm just gonna keep tickling this sensitive, vulnerable, unbearably ticklish little belly, up and down, over and over, on and on..."

The surge of radio static induced by this one sentence is so intense that it leaves Alastor's own voice virtually incomprehensible for several seconds. He tries to summon a shadow creature, a tentacle, anything, but he's so disoriented the shadows dissipate before they can be directed anywhere.

And that's finally what breaks his resistance. Being rendered helpless under Charlie's fingers is one thing, but being unable to use his powers at Vaggie's mercy is considerably more unnerving.

"OKAY, OKAHAY! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

Vaggie lifts her hands off him, though they remain hovering just a few inches over his torso.

It takes a solid minute for Alastor to catch his breath. "For heaven's sake, you could've just asked me..."

Vaggie scrunches her fingers in the air a couple times, causing the radio demon to fold up like a lawn chair.

"Ack! Nonono I'm kidding!! I'm kidding!" He fights back a fit of nervous giggles.

"Ten seconds to spit it out before I go borrow Nifty's feather duster."

Alastor rolls his eyes. "Oh please. You think you can threaten me with cleaning tools? Don't be ridiculous..."

"Five seconds." Vaggie turns to Charlie. "Hey babe, have you tried his ears?"

A little squeak of microphone feedback. "13th floor hall closet, second-to-top shelf, under a dead rat."

Charlie recoils. "Ew! Al!"

"Pardon, two dead rats." As Vaggie withdraws her hands Alastor sits up, brushes himself off, and reaches for his microphone. "Second one came along as I was arranging the first, and... offered to help."

Charlie just stares at him in horror as he stands and twirls his mic with his usual classy flair, the very picture of eccentric elegance - as if he hadn't just spent the last twenty minutes being reduced to a hysterical mess on the floor.

"Is there any point in warning you not to pull something like this again?" Vaggie mutters, more to herself than the demon.

"No. But you can if it makes you feel better." Alastor grins and offers a hand to Charlie as she gets to her feet. "That was a lovely chat, my dears. Next time I need a good laugh I'll be sure to commit another petty theft."

Charlie rolls her eyes as he turns on his heel and strolls off.

"And let me know if you need help finding the batteries for that speaker," he tosses over his shoulder.

"OH you little piece of-"

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This was such a fun fic to write! Hope you had fun reading it too.... let me know what you think!

💜 - Cozy

[suzukiblu]

excerpt from the one where Tim Drake goes to an alternate reality and decides to get his other self laid via the local Kon's bisexual awakening:

"Hey, remember when you saved my life earlier?" Tim asks. 

"Yeah, kinda," Kon replies in amusement. "Seeing as it was about two point five seconds after you rigged the evil alien robot army to self-destruct and helped save our entire literal reality's life, so I was definitely paying attention." 

"Flatterer," Tim says with a smirk even as he waves him off. The self-destruct function wasn't even that hard to hack, comparatively. That time he'd downloaded Lex Luthor's active IP files from his personal office while the asshole had been on his damn computer–now that'd been tricky. Interdimensional alien invaders barely compare. And the Brainiac incident still gives him stress migraines when he thinks about it for too long. 

Metropolis sucks and Tim frankly has no idea how his own Kon can stand the place.

But like, getting off-topic here. 

"Well, I was gonna say you should let me pay you back for that," he continues. "But since you bring it up I'll also accept a show of gratitude on behalf of your reality, whichever gets you off harder.” 

Kon laughs, because he is apparently adorable enough to have assumed that was a joke. Precious little moron, Tim thinks fondly. 

"You know, you're a lot less uptight than our version of you is," Kon says, grinning down at Tim before flashing Tim's other self a smirk. "No offense, Rob. Dude's clearly just doing more yoga than you or something. Maybe drinking more tea? Taking the occasional bubble bath?" 

"Silly me, if only I'd invested in more bath bombs in my life," Tim's other self says dryly. 

"It's probably my sex life, actually," Tim himself puts in with an easy shrug. Turns out when you stop pretending you don't have a ridiculously high libido and actually just indulge the thing, a lot of life's little annoyances become a lot easier to handle. Go figure. "Plus my boyfriend Bernard is really great, just his entire existence does wonders for my mood in general and he also makes me eat real food on occasion and monitors my caffeine intake much more reliably than I'm capable of doing on my own. The man is a living antidepressant and I don't even mean that in a fucked-up way, he's just that good." 

"Boyfriend?" Kon blinks at him, then puts on another grin. It takes, Tim cannot help but notice, exactly two beats longer than his real grin would've. "Ohhhhh, okay, so the problem is just that you're not getting laid hard enough?" 

"It is not," Tim's other self says dubiously, watching Kon just a little bit warily and obviously worried about his potential reaction to the word "boyfriend". Well, Tim never claimed to be emotionally intelligent about Kon, so no surprise his other self is also a dumbass there. 

"It kinda is, actually," he tells his other self. "I was tracking my cortisol levels the last time I went on a solo away mission and let's just say they were . . . concerning? Like really concerning. Like by the time I got back I was kiiiiind of convinced I was going to need to go on anti-anxiety meds again. But then I jumped my Kon in the Titans Tower med bay instead and that pretty much solved the problem." 

Kon . . . pauses, sort of. Tilts his head. Tim's other self looks a lot warier.

"'Jumped'," Kon repeats carefully. "Like . . . what, you dragged him to the gym to spar or something?" 

"Like I blew his back out so hard that when he came his TTK fritzed out and disassembled my recovery bed," Tim clarifies helpfully. "It really helped with the cortisol levels issue." 

Kon blinks. Tim's other self looks pained, but also desperately envious. Tim would also be desperately envious if their situations were reversed and so does not blame him for said envy in the slightest. 

"I thought you said you had a boyfriend?" Kon says after a moment, sounding a little odd in a very telling way. Or at least very telling to Tim, anyway. 

As is the way that he's not looking at Tim's other self at all anymore. 

"Open relationship," Tim says. "Also Bernard thinks you're stupidly hot and really likes hearing about the kind of stuff you let me do to you. I've actually been debating inviting you over for his birthday so he can watch us live for once but I haven't asked you yet." 

"What, so your Kon is the side chick?" Kon jokes, awkwardly putting on another just barely belated grin. 

"More like my kept boy, functionally speaking, but he's having a 'weird about commitment' phase right now so I've just been making a lot of sugar baby jokes to soften him up," Tim replies with a shrug. It's only sort of been working, but it has been working, and he's willing to take his time on it. It's not fair to expect Kon to only be easy, after all. "Long-term goal is to marry Bernard and ideally get Kon to 'live-in boyfriend' status somewhere in there, but that would also require him not being weird about commitment and also figuring out how well he and Bernard get along in the same space, so we'll just have to see how that one goes." 

"Uh," Kon says. "Why?" 

"Because you are incredibly important to me and also look like a very horny Renaissance sculptor made you out of calacatta marble," Tim tells him matter-of-factly, gesturing meaningfully at him. "Frankly it's criminal that you ever put clothes on."

[brianwashere]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the spiderverse characters (Miguel, Hobbie, Noir) meeting and reacting to male spider reader who abnormal tall (like 7 foot kinda abnormal) and morally grey for instance will kill if it means that it could be beneficial rather than having the villain go to jail???

(Also who would end up falling for reader?)

FIRST ATSV REQ LETS GO

I made Miguel so submissive and breedable real lmfaooo. Also ignore how many HCs are in Noir’s, I’ve actually never written for him before lol. Oh and since it’s not extremely clear, Hobie’s is platonic

**I do not own any characters or part of the franchise from marvel or sony**

Summary: go to req

Tw: cussing, death, discussion of murder, stuff like that

~Miguel~

Color Miguel intimidated bcc oh my god

You’re taller than him. With his same morals. He’s fucking reeling

When you stand next to him he’ll cross his arms and puff out his chest

You’ll notice and be like “What’re you doing…?” And he’ll act all ignorant like “hm? What? No I’m not doing anything…”

Once he gets over your sheer largeness he’ll become more comfortable and relaxed around you

He falls HARD and QUICK

Even doing missions with you becomes difficult for him, the first time he got choked up or distracted he immediately stopped doing any missions with you

It was like whiplash for you because you were doing all these high risk missions with Miguel regularly then he suddenly drops you with no explanation

You corner him one day and demand to know why he’s acting so weird

You literally corner him…

Standing over him and all angry

He’s feeling 5 different conflicting emotions all at once

He tried to web away from you and without thinking about it you grab him by his neck and shove him back against the wall

He whimpered. WHIMPERED.

You immediately know what’s up and laugh at him some then tell him you feel the same

And that’s how Miguel O’Hara got a shredded gigantic boyfriend

~Noir~

When he first glanced at you he couldn’t help but stare a bit.

I mean. DAMN. What’re they feeding you?

He couldn’t help but say something

“They make them big in your universe?”

The joke surprised you bcc a Spider-Man dressed in all black and a sick hat and coat just teased you.

You laugh some and respond.

“And they make ‘em cute in yours?”

He chokes some.

You smirk at him and introduce yourself

He collects himself quickly and introduces himself too

When you find out he’s from an older timeline

You can’t help but flirt a bit more

“Oh so I should take you to dinner first?” You say with a grin.

You came on so heavy he stayed silent for a bit, just blinking at you

He avoids you for a bit, not because he doesn’t like you or is weirded out. He’s just trying to learn how to respond to your flirting in a way that isn’t staring owlishly

You two are on a mission together and long story short the villain didn’t need to go back to his universe to restore the timeline and was beyond the standard villain evil

while he was fleeing from you two he flung a child into the air and let them drop, expecting them to distract the both of you

“Noir!” You yelled

“On it.” He immediately responded and caught the kid, taking them to safety and comforting them

When you caught the villain you couldn’t hold yourself back.

Needless to say Noir came back to find you covered in blood and dangerously quiet.

It was a sight to see and not one he’ll forget.

“If you’re gunna give me the whole ‘killing makes you as bad as them’ lecture you can save it. I don’t regret it now and I wont regret it ever.” You said firmly, still not meeting his gaze

He just walked over to you and rested a hand on your shoulder. “Good. You shouldn’t.” Was all he said. The return to the spider society was silent

There was a silent agreement between the two of you not to discuss that mission with anyone else. That it was something too personal, somehow.

A few weeks later he asks you out

“Do you want to go out for egg creams sometime?” He asked

“What the hell is an egg cream.”

It’s like the olive theory but with egg creams

He loves your size and secretly loves it when you rest your arm on his head/shoulder.

~Hobie~

He laughs when he sees you

“You been drinking your milk, mate?” He chuckled

You rolled your eyes at him.

You talk with him when you next see hi ma few days later

He just sort of appears around you and you don’t question it once so ever

Someone asks why you two are always seen together in a rude tone and Hobie just throws an arm around your shoulder and says “see this lad right here, he’s my best friend. We actually sleep in the same bed—“

You scoff at him and push his arm off

You know he’s being sarcastic and just trying to get the person to fuck off but calling you his best friend made something in your heart flutter

Protectiveness? Loyalty? Endearment? Who the hell knew.

All you know is from then on you started seeking him out more

You sort of became a older brother figure to him

You started checking in on him semi regularly

But one time he stopped responding and you hadn’t seen him for over a week

Obviously, you got worried

You decided to go visit his universe to see if something happened

When you got there your eyes were immediately violently assaulted with flashing images and constantly changing scenery

It threw you off mid-swing and you crashed to the ground

You had to shut your eyes so you wouldn’t get nauseous

Then you felt a hand on your shoulder and squint up to see Hobie who looked confused and concerned

He helps you back to his place and basically tosses you down on his beat up couch then asks why you’re there

You just grumble something about him not responding and not seeing anyone for over a week

He flops down next to you and lays his legs on your lap

“Aw you big bloke, you were worried ‘bout me.” He says smirking

You shove his legs off and stand up

“Don’t get used to it” you say with a grin

[eightball-chronicles]

Deadpool + Wolverine tk headcanons !!!

a/n : i love these 2 so much …. ever since findin out theyre both canonically ticklish in the comics ive been EXPLIDINF . this movie reawakened my obsession so lets goooo ^-^

words : (4649 under cut)

Deadpool

As a ler :

ohmygod . he is RUTHLESS

so mean yet so silly when he tickles

yk in the beginning of xmen origins wolverine ?? how he was usin his katanas to block all those bullets ???? hes so fast w his arms n he would be able to pin anyone in an INSTANT

like he could wrap his arms around you n trap you in a tickly bear hug so easily

SUCH a tease; both verbally n physically

he would slowly lower his hands on his victim while wriggling his fingers n when hes about to touch you he'll quickly shoot his hands back up n keep on doin that

n the baby talk OH LORD THE BABY TALK

this man will leave anyone redder than his suit

"awwww whos a tickwish wittle baby ?? you are !! yes you areeeee !!"

"coochiecoochiecoochiecoochiecoo"

"whats got you laughin so much huh ?? sounds like you got a tickle in your throat"

like SHUT UPPPPDKDJKFJHDJ

points out any noises made

if you snort or wheeze or squeal or anything similar he WILL tease you more

aware when you want him to stop but also aware that he doesnt wanna stop

"did you say stop ?? do you mean it ?? do you ?? huh , huh , huh ?? hmmmm alright alright i'll stop"

n if you actually LIKE being tickled ?? oh god hes never letting you live free of tickles ever again

will use every excuse possible to try n tickle you

you had a bad day ? tickles . youre being stubborn ? tickles .

you need to wake up, need to go to sleep, need to be convinced, need to relax, wade just gets bored,

everything . t i c k l e s

overall : be scared but not worried (if that makes sense)

As a lee :

ohh how the turns have tabled

talks so much shit beforehand but the SECOND he gets it hes all like "WAITWAITWAIT LETS TALK PLS"

absolute gigglefest . when you first strike a bad spot he does this squealwheeze combo

THE MOST TICKLISH THIGHS IN THE WORLD EVER

more sensitive to light touch there but squeezing still gets him CACKLIN

like if you just . lightly drag your fingertips or nails anywhere on his thighs …

oh hes dead . youve officially killed mr immortal .

ticklish palms too DONT ASK I JUST KNOW IT

again, light touch here n hes a puddle

if you try to tease him while ticklin hes gonna somehow turn it around ?????

if you try to fluster him or just point anything out he will get so SNIDEEEE

"yohohou have NO rihight to tahahalk peanuhuht, we AHALL know how bahahad it ihis for you whehehen i WAITWAITWAHAHAHAIT IM SOHORRY NO -"

lil shit deserves it lol (still love him)

Wolverine

As a ler :

isn't as evil as wade, but you dont wanna test him

like he wouldnt go as rough or tease as much but HE STILL WILL

wont do any anticipation tricks, hes just gonna do it

he will chase you, however, but only if you run

more on the playful side; accidently teases you by pointing out the obvious

"wow its real bad for ya here, huh bub ??"

"jesus kid stop kicking so much, oh wait … you cant, can ya ??"

hes always got this cheeky grin on his face too

super analyzes how much certain pressure n techniques works best on all your spots bc hes a BIG BULLY

if he wanted to, youd be dead in a minute ♡ (not really)

if you were being a brat then hes gonna use his facial hair

n GOD it tickles so bad

like if hes getting you from behind he might just decide to . nuzzle into your neck n its amazing HORRIBLE

in short : dont be annoying n youre good !

As a lee :

where do i even begin …

hes got such a precious smile its like how could you NOT tickle him to pieces

its pretty well known how he already has his wheezy snort laughs

catching him off guard will get the best wheezes

like if you sneak attack or switch to a bad spot suddenly

tbh hes gonna snort no matter what you do … its what n where you do it that might give you more muehehehe

pinch his sides ?? 1 snort every 20 seconds

scratch his ribs ?? 1 snort every 10 - 15

do anthing on his tummy / underarms ?? youre getting that 1 per 5 wolvie special !!!

1 SQUEEZE ON THE KNEE N ITS GAME OVER FOR HIM . if you rapid squeeze them it becomes a damn piggie pen

wade definitely abuses this

PLEASEEEE HEAR ME OUT ON HIS BACK

yall know in the first xmen when hes shirtless w his hand on the fence of a fighting ring n you can see his BACKKKK please give me a chance

light tickles there makes him MELT

youll get the sweetest giggles w an occasional wheeze

lightly scratching or tracing his shoulder blades will lead to slightly louder giggles

n rubbing your knuckles into his back dimples gets the absolute bestest snorts

TICKLISH COLLARBONES . THERE I SAID IT

im a sucker for lee wolverine idk if you can tell (its obvious)

oke doke thats it for now !! AAAAAAA im sorry these took so long TwT im just happy i got em done ehehe

sending love to everyone who reads these :D i hope you enjoyed - make sure yall stay healthy n happy ^-^ ♡

[ghcstao3]

been on a hunger games kick lately so. ghoapifying time!! yippee yahoo

(edit: extra because i felt a little silly)

-

Simon isn’t much when his name is reaped, just days after he’d turned 18. He’s scrawny, starved, scarred—being from District 10, the only thing he’s ever known is butchery, so maybe he’s of use with knives, but it really means nothing to him. Not when his older brother Tommy had gotten killed by Peacekeepers, not when his mother had died of illness, not when his father couldn’t give less of a shit when his youngest son is sent to die.

So all he can do is accept his fate. All he can do is listen to his mentor, train in the fleeting days he has left, and try to survive. No matter if the odds would never, ever be in his favour.

Simon doesn’t remember much from the days leading to the games. All he can really recall is the absurd pageantry and the lack of privacy, though it had been nice to be freed from the stench of blood, if only for a few days. It was nice, not having grime beneath his fingernails.

If he’s honest, he doesn’t remember much from the Games, either. Simon hadn’t made allies, didn’t need to—even his necessary loyalty to the girl from his district was tentative at best. She would still come down to being another competitor, in the end. Simon didn’t want to die, he couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

And he doesn’t. He wins, somehow—maybe out of spite. Maybe out of fear, or out of vengeance. Simon doesn’t know.

All he knows is that he hates the man he’d become in that arena.

* * *

Johnny was born and raised in the Capitol. Maybe not in a family that was the richest of the rich, but still much better off than anyone found in the districts. He’s only ever known some sense of luxury, has never encountered the cruelty of the real world, and continues to stand to benefit from the pain of others.

But even then, he does eventually recognize the faults and evilness of the system.

Eventually.

Because as a boy, he had loved the Games. Before having any sense of consequence or the realness of these people and their deaths, Johnny had been just as enraptured by it all as everyone else. He watched with interest, just as entertained as he was meant to be. The Games had been awe-inspiring to him as they are to most other Capitol children.

He still remembers Simon’s game. Ghost, as the boy from District 10 had been called, having earned the nickname from an uncanny ability to seemingly appear out of nowhere and make that cannon fire one more time. Johnny had been 15, then, still an avid watcher of this slaughter-show—but he’ll always recall that game the most, because of Simon.

Simon was shy, and awkward—but the Capitol had loved it. Loved him. And Johnny had just as well, albeit for some different reasons. Because along with everything the Capitol admired about Simon (which was mostly superficial), Johnny admired his resilience. His persistence, his triumph. He had thought, back then, that he could only ever wish to be like the boy from District 10. He’d never been so enamoured with a tribute, a victor like that before.

That was seven years ago, and things have since… changed. Not enough to be different, but enough for Johnny to notice. Enough for him to finally understand that these Games are far more than he had ever been led to believe. He just didn’t know to what extent.

Johnny is freshly 22 when he meets Simon. A friend of Johnny’s (in the loosest of terms), Philip Graves, tells him that he’d gotten a special birthday gift for Johnny that year—and while usually Johnny might be skeptical or uncaring, given Graves’ track record, it’s what he says about this gift that has Johnny… panicking?

“Remember that victor you used to have a crush on? Well, I finally managed to get in a request.”

Before Johnny can ask what he means, two Peacekeepers—escorts—are entering the room with Simon in tow.

Graves grins almost predatorily before standing and patting Johnny on the shoulder like he means to be friendly. Like he thinks he’s given Johnny all he could ask for.

And in maybe some sense he has, but not like this. Not like this.

“Enjoy the next few days, Johnny,” Graves is saying. “He’s all yours.”

Johnny thinks he might be sick. The threat of bile in his throat only grows more intense one he’s left alone with Simon.

The victor looks… different, since his time in the public eye. Bulkier, likely from a steady supply of food for the first time in his life; objectively healthier. Skin smooth, porcelain, like he hadn’t seen a day of suffering in his life. Every aspect of him perfectly tailored, manicured, prim, like a clean slate for his current proprietor.

He still has that rugged kind of handsomeness to him, though. The Capitol could change many things, but they could never take that look of fierce determination from his dark, knowing eyes.

“How do you want me?” Simon asks softly. Johnny can tell there’s still fight thrumming beneath his skin, but they both could guess what would happen if that were to be let free.

“I… don’t,” Johnny says before he can help himself. At the shift in Simon’s expression he feels his heart drop, so he adds quickly, “Sorry, that’s not—I don’t mean it like that. I just never realized…”

Simon tilts his head, curious, assessing. “Never realized what?”

“That you…” Johnny swallows hard. He takes a shuddering breath, nervous, like he isn’t the one with more power here. Like he’s the prey—and maybe he is. “Could be bought.”

Simon shrugs a shoulder, nonchalant like the idea of being bought and sold like an object is hardly a bother to him. There’s hurt in those eyes, but it doesn’t live anywhere else on his face. “There’s a lot of things you might not know outside of your world of luxury.”

Johnny’s gaze falls the floor. “Yes,” he sighs. “I’m sure there is.”

A tense silence falls over them, for just a moment, before Simon is shuffling across the room to join Johnny on the sofa. He sits close, but doesn’t touch.

“So,” Simon’s insisting, “how do you want me?”

Johnny doesn’t know if he’ll survive these next few days.

Perhaps he should at least be grateful that the transaction is on Graves’ hands.

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

While I’d love to hear six hours of discussion, perhaps we can hear your top 10 reasons you like Ironwood? Don’t want you to lose your voice after all my fellow Dadmiral friendo

Look I stream for 6 hours straight some days but that’s beside the point lolz. Also sorry this took so long. Life has been a thing.

1. James feels…human. I know the point of characters in stories is to make them feel alive and to immerse you into the world I know. But stay with me there are just little details like James adjusting his tie and little laughs at R/WBY’s antics that just make him feel more real.

2. James is strong. And not just in the physical sense but the emotional one. Between him in volume 3 holding it together despite the world falling apart around him and him taking on all of Atlas and Mantles hatred and vitriol while trying to protect them is incredible. Everyone hates him despite him trying his best and it’s both incredible and heartbreaking to see.

3. James is compassionate. I am not even slightly referring to volume 8 that bullshit is not canon at all just no. After watching Yang with his own eyes break (who he thought) was an innocent students leg unprovoked after the match ended and his aura was down, he believed her when she said she saw him attack first. He assumed the best of her even when all evidence showed that she was being malicious. Or in volume 4 when Weiss accidentally summoned a Grimm that attacked someone, he stood up for her or after Ruby failed to stop Cinder in volume 3 (? Or 2 can’t remember for sure) and he told her she did well and she took action which is what huntresses do. He is strict but he shows kindness to people.

4. He’s kind of silly sometimes. He’s normally very strict so it makes his funny moments stand out more. Like when he laughs when the girls admit they stole an airship or when he grins at Winters comment about how he couldn’t pay her to smile for the cameras.

5. He’s not a good public speaker. Now I can hear you say “but wait, he speaks publically all the time and while yes he does, he also does the equivalent of error 404 when things don’t go exactly as he mentally prepared beforehand and we see this in volume 7.

When the girls don’t react at all to his announcement that they’re all huntresses now he just freezes because this man needs to preplan everything and he did not have a plan b prepared and panics and it’s so relatable I adore it so much.

6. He’s awkward. While similar to the last point, people can suck at public speaking and still be able to converse well with people in a smaller setting but sometimes James seems to even be a little awkward even in less formal moments.

7. In early volumes he was allowed to make mistakes and still be a good person. I like it when characters are allowed to make a mistake and still be seen as a good guy. People make mistakes and screw up but that doesn’t make said person evil. Sometimes we can’t fix something or stop a bad thing from happening or even make a decision that winds up causing more problems. But the intention of the decision is the important thing. James wanted to protect people in volumes 2 and 3 so he brought his army because he had a feeling Salem was up to something. Cinder used said army to cause even more chaos but at the time the narrative refused to demonize him for this and allowed people to understand what his intentions were. That’s way more compelling than the narrative twisting itself to try and somehow prove the mains are always correct and never make mistakes. Learning and growing make stories interesting.

8. James is willing to make the tough decisions. Time and time again we see James making really difficult calls to try and navigate a war that most people don’t even know they’re fighting. He makes the plans to transfer Ambers Aura to keep it from Cinder. He pulled his armies from the other kingdoms to try and maintain peace, he decided to focus on Amity instead of the wall to try and restore global communication, he decided to try and save who he could when he was put between a rock and a hard place. He made the tough calls and stuck by his decision and that is admirable.

9. James trusts people. After James’s talk with Glynda she took his advice to heart and was more open and honest with people. When Winter tells him something is going on at Haven, he takes her word for it. When Ruby and co lie to his face he trusts their word. He trusts Yang when she says she saw Mercury attack her first during the Vytal Festival. (Despite what the narrative tries to tell us) James gives people the benefit of the doubt and is willing to trust people.

10. James is an incredible fighter even without a typical offensive Aura. Pretty self explanatory but James is able to go toe to toe with some dangerous adversaries and hold his own despite not having a special “super power” like everyone else does. Or even a special weapon really he kicks ass with just a pair of guns and that is so badass of him lolz.

And a bonus more meta point because I want to talk about this so there. But one thing I loved about Ruby and James’s volume 7 fallout is that we can see exactly how and why each of them made the decision they did during that breakdown. On one had we have Ruby who is full of hope still and sees the best in the world. She lost her friends and is still dealing with the trauma of that and doesn’t want to ever lose anyone else again or let people suffer a loss like she did during the fall of Beacon. On the other we have James who is equally traumatized from Beacon but in a very different way. He did his best to fight back against Salem and it was in the end used against him and caused even more pain and suffering. He’s terrified of going toe to toe against Salem again and wants to protect what he knows he can until he knows they are able to take on Salem. It’s realistic and painful and neither side is really a perfect option. It’s a bad situation and we can see how the characters respond to it and it feels in character and real and I wish that we got to see that writing continue into volume 9.

Sorry again for how long this one took! As I said life’s been all over the place and chaotic and it still is but I got a burst of motivation so I decided to finally type this out.

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝔻𝕚𝕕 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕂𝕟𝕠𝕨?

— — —

Benny touched a cursed Mirror that makes an evil Mirror Image of the person and it came down to where they both stood in front of me, Ethan and Sarah. They looked exactly the same and were both trying to convince us that they were the real one so we’d send the other one into the mirror.

“Tell us something-“ Ethan began but I cut him off.

“That won’t work, the Mirror image knows everything the real Benny knows.”

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own MBAV, all credit goes to the creators and actors

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

Benny touched a cursed Mirror that makes an evil Mirror Image of the person and it came down to where they both stood in front of me, Ethan and Sarah. They looked exactly the same and were both trying to convince us that they were the real one so we’d send the other one into the mirror.

“Tell us something-“ Ethan began but I cut him off.

“That won’t work, the Mirror image knows everything the real Benny knows.” I shook my head but an idea popped into my head. “But he’s the perfect mirror image of him!” I shouted.

“Yes, we’ve established that! That’s why we can’t tell them apart!” Sarah shouted, frustrated.

“You can’t, but I can.” I stated with a grin, stepping up to ask a question.

“Hey, Benny, where were you last night?” I asked, knowing he had lied to my brother about where he was so he could sneak into my room so he couldn’t come clean about it without exposing our relationship.

“What? Why are you asking? He told us both that he was cat sitting for Grandma’s friend.” Ethan pointed out, to which I nodded at him with a smirk and looked back at the Benny’s.

“Yea, I was cat sitting.” Both Benny’s confirmed, though the real one chewed on the left side of his bottom lip while the doppelgänger chewed on the right side.

“That one! That’s the fake! Send him back!” I pointed at the one on my right side, smirking at the panic of being found out before it turned to an evil smirk.

“Congrats, little girlie, you figured it out. But I’ll be back. You can’t get rid of me forever!” He tried to threaten before my brother sent him back into the mirror. I smiled and let out a relieved sigh that it was over and ran to the real Benny. I wrapped my arms around him in a hug and inhaled his comforting scent as he hugged me back.

“How’d you know it was me? The real me?” He whispered into me hair as we hugged. I pulled back and smiled up at him.

“Yea, how did you know, sis?” Ethan came up behind us, clapping Benny on the back as Sarah pat his shoulder.

“You bite the left side of your lip when you lie.” I smiled at him and quickly tapped his lip.

“Wait- when he lies? And how did you know he wasn’t actually cat sitting last night?” Ethan asked me suspiciously. Benny and I froze, I hadn’t thought this through.

“Uh.. because...” I sighed, not being able to think of anything, “because he was with me.” I subconsciously got closer to Benny and he wrapped his arm around my back.

“What? Why didn’t you just tell me? We could’ve all just hung out together.” He looked at us before realizing we were specifically “hanging out” without him. “You guys... didn’t want me around..?” He asked, more than a little hurt that his best friend and sister didn’t want to hang out with him.

“E, it’s not what you think. We.. weren’t just hanging out.” Benny came clean as I pressing the side of my body against him, leaning into him a bit.

“What? What are you trying to say? Were you like.. practicing magic or something?” Ethan didn’t quite get it.

“Oh my god...” I rubbed my face from the exhaustion that my brother was causing with his obliviousness. “Ethan!”

“What?!” He asked, not getting what we were trying to tell him. I grabbed Benny’s face and brought him down to me, smashing my lips against my boyfriend’s.

“Now do you get it?!” I yelled at my older brother, looking at him with my boyfriend’s face still in one of my hands.

“Oh.” He blinked, entirely stunned. “Wait- you two are dating?! For How long?!” Ethan demanded, looking incredulously between us.

“Yea, our 6 months in coming up next week.” Benny said, nervous about his best friend’s reaction to dating his sister.

“You’re dating my sister. You are dating my sister! And you kept it from me!” He was clearly a bit upset.

“Because we knew you’d react like this. Why can’t you just be happy for us? We love each other. You know him, you know he won’t hurt me.” I defended, wrapping my arm tighter around Benny, standing my ground.

Sighing, he gave in, “You’re right. But I swear to god, if you do hurt her, I will help Grandma embarrass you in every way possible specifically in front of the popular girls at school.” I rolled my eyes but Benny stood at attention and saluted him, knowing full well he was dead serious. “I am happy for you guys, though.” He gave us a fond smile and put his arm around Sarah and the four of us made our way back to our house to watch movies and cuddle with our respective partners.

”Thanks, E. I know I don’t really need your approval but it’s nice to have it anyways.” I smiled at my big brother and leaned into Benny as we walked.

”If you hurt her, I will also not hesitate to drain you dry.” Sarah added nonchalantly and Benny just tightened his arm around me.

“Yea.. I know..” I giggled at his response and quickly leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“It won’t come to that, though. I know it won’t.” He grinned down at me and stole a kiss before we made it back onto the sidewalk in front of the line of houses.

[smokersbaby]

Hii!! Can i request some headcanons for doffy , croco and smoker with a s/o Who leaves them a visibile hickey

Thx❤️

Thank you for your request! I was replying to your other message but something happened while I was writing so I'm answering here. I'm sorry that you had to wait a little bit but, lately, I've been busy with Uni and other things.

Characters: Doflamingo, Sir Crocodile, Smoker CW: hickey, making out, slightly NFSW, more explicit NFSW (Smoker part) Notes: that was so fun and exciting to write, I'm feeling like I'm improving my English writing, let me know which part you liked the most!

Doflamingo

You like to defy death.

For real, you are playing with fire if you deliberately decide to leave a visible hickey on him. 

As soon as he realizes that there's a red bruise on his neck panics, he should be a Celestial Dragon, not a human, so why is his skin reacting to such a thing?

He looks at you, even though you are his s/o you're just a human, he stares at you with a grin and licks his lips

"I have to punish you, now." he states as his gaze pierces you, his smile seems so evil, but yet you know that he won't hurt you since you're his s/o, even though he's a demon with everyone else. He licks your neck from your collarbone to your lips and whispers: "Did you really think you could get away with it…?". Be prepared. He's going to fuck the life out of you.

Eventually, he'd wear a patch to cover his hickey, nobody should see it.

Crocodile

he doesn't realize you made a hickey on his neck until he looks at himself in the mirror

he touches his bruise, probably last night was too involved with you in bed that he can't even remember when you made that hickey

he's not upset, he likes how you show him all your love in that way, but now that he sees it is turned on again

suddenly he grabs your arm as his eyes are fixed on you

"What's this?" he says pointing at his hickey. You try to answer but he closes your mouth with a sudden kiss, his mouth craving yours as his hands are all over your body. You respond to his kiss as your tongues meet. "Guess someone is asking for more, didn't I satisfy you last night?" a soft grin appears on his face. You can't help but blush hearing such lewd things.

In less than a minute he's carrying you to the bedroom.

Smoker

he becomes a blushing mess as he feels you making a hickey on his neck, he didn't expect you to do such a thing

Smoker feels goosebumps all over his body as you do that, even though he seems such a strong and impassive marine he loses his mind when is with you

he doesn't care (for now) if you leave hickeys all over his body, he's too involved when you two are in bed to care

he can't control himself as he starts to kiss your neck so wildly

"Mhh love you taste so good…" he says as he starts to slightly bite your neck while licking it. His hands hold your body tight against his, as you tremble in excitement. You feel him leaving hickeys all over your body while fucking you so good that makes you lose your mind. "I'm not gonna hold back, love" he whispers, you grab his back almost digging your nails into his skin to keep up with his wild pace.

After that, he'd cover his hickey in every way possible, he's such a serious marine, nobody should see what his lover did to him in bed.

[mommycity]

hi hungry anon back again! i present to thee... DOUBLE CHIN SUGU ‼️‼️

its just a tiny eensy weensy thing hanging from the bottom of his chin but the way you laser in on it after a few days of sharing your food with him is a little freaky (but he doesnt mind it that much because of all the kisses you give him right there)

for fanart reference i highly suggest monosrojo's art of chubby sugu its like the only jjk art they have other than a drawing of yuuta + rika BUT VERY GOOD

when suguru starts visibly gaining weight you smother him in kisses, giving him the same treatment he gives you.

squeezing his love handles, nuzzling into his tummy, smacking his FAT ass when he walks by, and saying how much you love him, of course ♥️.

and he quickly takes it all in stride. backed by his own assurance in himself and affirmations from his supportive partner!!

and your reply about him making you feel better...actually so real.

you probably send him a text about how bad your day was, or venting about an incident at work and the second hes off the clock, hes heading to a wonderful bakery that he frequently splurges at.

the box he brings home is huge and heavy, but packed to the brim with one of every pastry they offer while in his head hes thinking about making a sandwich thats layered with tons of different fillings. all together, his plan for dinner is incredibly calorie dense, but as long as youre happy he doesnt mind.

when he gets home, he gives you a kiss from where youre laying in a sad heap on the couch, but you perk up at the pretty box he set down on the coffee table.

if you ask what it is, a sly grin is plastered on his face, 'something to make you feel better.' is all he says before tucking you under his chin and letting you vent about your day.

as you start talking, hes going to hold up macarons, donuts stuffed with whipped cream and strawberries, custard hand pies, whatever is handheld and easy to bring to your mouth.

then once youre more distracted by eating than talking, hell start handing you huge croissants stuffed with cream and fruits, different flavors of cale slices, mini fruit parfaits.

and then, unexpectedly, you turn around from where youre sitting in his lap. 'try some su!' you cajole as he denies over and over.

'theyre for you to feel better, not me.' he argues, but you whine.

'you wanna know what would make me feel better? if you ate something.'

that finally convinces him to open his mouth and eat a macaron that was left over from the many flavors he bought, and your reply stopped him in his tracks.

'good boy!' you kissed his neck as he swallowed and turned back around like nothing happened.

underneath you, his dick probably twitched and you covered up your evil smile with a spoonful of the two thick slices of triple chocolate cake on the flimsy paper plate in your hands.

'come down here guru, try some of this,'

this time, hes obedient and leans over your shoulder for a bite out of the other rich slice you hadnt touched yet.

'here, some more.' another forkful and suddenly youre putting bite after bite of cake in front of his mouth and hes willingly taking it into his mouth and swallowing.

eventually the two of you are tearing apart the rest of the box.

hed hold a huge glazed donut to your lips that youd finish in two bites, suguru would get four or five pieces of fudge popped into his mouth one after the other.

finally, he moans around a huge frosted cookie being shoved in his mouth and buries his flushed face in your neck.

sugurus breathing hard with crumbs around his mouth while youre swallowing down your last slice of strawberry shortcake that had a thick white glaze across the top of it.

'does your tummy hurt?' you asked, hands already moving down to his distended torso. from personal experience, something as intense as what the two of you just did would always result in you whining for gentle tummy rubs.

'yeah, yeah.' you laid him back on the couch and moved his shirt up for better access.

once you get your hands on the tight skin of his tummy, he moans at first contact and arches his back.

you stop and let him settle before going back to caressing from the bottom of his taut and heavy belly to the top and back down again.

he keeps moaning and writhing, but combined with the way his round tummy poked up definitely added to your little fantasy of getting him pregnant. maybe you could get him to have twins somehow...

i think suguru would cum just from having his full tummy kneaded and massaged, especially with some lotion.

when you notice he moans particularly loud and thrusts his hips up, your eyes are drawn to the wet patch against his jeans.

youd tease him a bit, then order takeout (the sandwich could be saved for another day). its probably something meant for a full family that the two of you devour, then migrate to the bed to lazily fuck and cuddle.

thats my little soapbox spiel heehee, i hope you enjoyed it ^_^ and feel free to add on!!

It's been 4 billion years oh my gosh...hungry anon save me hungry anon

[nevermorgue]

Hello Hayley! I've been binge reading your Nevermore headcanons and I LOVE every single one. If you're taking requests, may I ask for some Montresor and Morella friendship headcanons please? I feel like they would tease each other, but be able to bond over a shared love of food. Thank you for all of your work :D

YES!!! I was so inspired by pluto’s morella and monty platonic art in the server. i love the idea of them getting along. but to start, i’m gonna be evil

- Obviously things wouldn’t go so great. Morella doesn’t like him and actively stands up against his nonsense. Montresor probably only sees her spectre, really. He understands that her defense skills are necessary. Probably thinks she’s too kind hearted. Probably also thinks she’s stupid to some degree, but not entirely because of how she stood up to him.

- I can only imagine their relationship changing if Morella just kinda forced herself to tolerate him to keep the peace as much as possible. She doesn’t want unnecessary problems to arise (like the wall thing) nor does she want to feed into what he wants (her to snap/react)

- So her method is to attempt to treat him the way she treats everyone else. Montresor finds it amusing, using her kindness against her and purposely being worse to get her to break.

- That backfires. He’s trying to put her on a Will/Ada level, but Morella is too headstrong to be fooled. She’s kind to be kind, and his pleasantries don’t work on her. If anything, she’s more responsive when he drops the whole charisma thing- because he’s being REAL.

- With this dynamic established. Imagine. She’s a great cook. She ends up making a big meal for the misfits and is oh so kind enough to save a bowl for him. She knows damn well he doesn’t deserve it, but her continuing to be nice to him despite how horrible he is…it’s kinda like a game between them now. She’s trying to say she’s better than him with every kind act. And he’s not only entertained/mildly pissed, but he’s stubborn and wants her to snap and drop the act so he plays along.

- “Lemme guess, doll. Poison’s in here. Naw…maybe dirt.”

“Just spices and care, Montresor. Try it!”

And of course, it tastes fantastic. He says it tastes like shit and slams the door in her face. He eats the entire bowl.

- As time goes on, Montresor doesn’t realize it but he’s starting to see her as less of a game like his lackeys and more of a neutral company that he doesn’t really necessarily hate. And he can tell that their ‘game’ goes more and more stagnant as Morella becomes less faux-kind, allowing herself to pout or scold him. It’s become less of a “try to get the other to back off” and more of a natural sort of interaction.

- She genuinely asks him if he’s ever brushed his hair in his life. He proceeds to answer by running his fingers through his hair, only to cuss when he hits a particularly nasty knot.

- She just kinda tosses a spare hair brush at him. She’s not willing enough to touch him/comb his greasy ass hair for him, but at least gives him the means to do it himself.

- I do agree that they bond over food. They have big stomachs and Morella is just so good at cooking.

- Ada invites Morella to sit with her and Monty in the common area once. She was hesitant, but agrees after she’s encouraged by the misfits to go for some strange reason.

- But once the interaction starts, Morella can tell that Ada doesn’t really want her there. She keeps glaring and tugging Montresor’s sleeve, as she always does.

- It doesn’t dawn on her why she was invited until Ada spills it.

“Why did you want her here so bad, dear? I wanted my alone time with you…” Ada would whine. Ada doesn’t HATE Morella, but she’s still not very happy about their argument in the cellar.

Morella can’t believe what she’s hearing. It wasn’t Ada that wanted her here- but Montresor

- She grins. She has no idea what their relationship really is or if it can be anything other than a okayish neutral, but perhaps this moment right here is proof that Monty can feel something that isn’t cruel or unnecessary.

- And Montresor? Refuses to look her in the eye. She’s not terrible. But don’t get him wrong, it’s only because she’s in the middle. Not smart enough to be on Annabel or Prospero’s strategy levels, but not pushover-y enough to be of any use to him. That’s it.

[telleroftime]

I think I covered Vampire!Sukuna that's forced to respect the innate rules of a vampire before -- such as the one where they must be invited into ones home -- but I just had a few more ideas regarding it.

Well, in this case it would also be Fae!Reader, which is once again a pairing I'm pretty sure I mentioned before. Anyways, yes! Vampire!Sukuna that camps outside of Fae!Reader's bungalow. That or human!Reader that grew up with the fae and is much more aware of how the forest works than the mighty and evil Sukuna. Featuring Uraume in certain places.

When the Reader first notices Sukuna they aren't too worried. He may be a vampire now but he was born a human mortal so they know that the same tricks would work on him too. They set up precautions and change their presence around their territory. Namely a lot more fairy rings appear in key locations. The mythology surrounding fairy rings states that if humans dance on them they would be punished by the fairies and made to dance in the ring until they pass out. Reader knows that and very quickly shuts down Sukuna's game of cat and mouse by tricking him into walking on one.

And they would proceed to exploit such tricks. Not only the natural rules of fae but also the bodily limitations of a vampire. They'd be cosied up in their little cottage at night knowing well that Sukuna cannot enter without an invitation, and during the day they would traverse through patches of light whilst grinning in the directions of the shadows.

You'd think that Sukuna could use Uraume's human nature to get to Reader but that wouldn't work either. If the fae don't want to be found by a human then the human will never find them.

Now, the Reader wouldn't be too interested in tricking Sukuna into something much more malicious than simple tricks, especially not after growing familiar with his vampiric presence, so one way or another they would need to stop him from accidentally falling into a fae-bound deal. By that I mean they would have to interrupt him and Uraume whenever it sounded like they were about to say "thank you." Sukuna would never but Uraume might. Same with apologies.

I love the idea of Uraume thinking that Reader is simply being humble when they say "don't thank me" and "don't apologise to me" when in reality Reader is getting a headache from controlling the impulse to form a contract with them.

I also love the visual of Reader slapping a hand around Uraume's mouth when they are about to thank another fae.

When it comes to names, the first time Sukuna introduces himself to Reader they instantly know that's not his real name. Names hold power especially in the hands of the fae, though since it also wasn't a lie they wouldn't press him about it. Uraume on the other hand makes the mistake of handing them their name which to Reader means there's on less threat. A human whose name is revealed is of no power in the eyes of the forest.

And speaking of lies, Reader would be able to catch Sukuna out on every like he speaks. Not like he himself would lie (seeing as he never seemed to lie in the anime). Uraume too. But if he ever did Reader would know... Though that aspect of fae nature would easily backfire on the Reader since they themself wouldn't be able to speak a lie. Only finely chosen words. So you know, plot.

And since I spoke more about Fae!Reader...

The fae are weak to iron so Reader would avoid any metals and alloys containing it. It'd leave them using pure silver which Sukuna, as a vampire, would be weak to. He would stay away from silver alloys and would instead opt for, you guessed it, iron. His weapons would be made of iron.

Imagine Sukuna making fun of Reader's weakness to iron so they just throw a silver fork at him, or better yet some random log as they comment how a "wooden stake" could finish him off.

Outside of vampires being unable to enter a home without first being invited, another thing vampires cannot do is cross running water. So, imagine finally Sukuna gets to chase the Reader. Finally everything is in line for him to drink their blood. It's the middle of the night and the Reader is far away from the nearest fairy ring and he's about to grasp them... when they suddenly cross a river and Sukuna is stranded on the opposite side to them. He'd be so unhappy.

And yeah. I think that's it for now.