#and I think they would all feel so weird about it!

[fumiliar]

kento never understood satoru's antics. the way he'd cling to any of his friends, a literal koala. he could never wrap his head around this weird obsession with physical touch.

"you're so hypocritical nanamin," satoru joked, making kento look up from his phone.

"when have i been hypocritical?"

"when you have the most judgiest face known to man when im touchy, but you're the same!" satoru put his hands up in frustration.

"when have i ever been touchy?" kento's raised his eyebrow.

"with y/n, you're so clingy with her. it's kinda disgusting seeing you do that," satoru pretending to vomit as he ended the sentence.

"reall-"

"yeah! don't try to deny it!"

satoru's jokes usually don't affect him, but this one stuck. did he really become someone he despised? was he that clingy to you till satoru, out of all people, found a problem with it? this 'insult' was in the forefront of his mind as he entered your shared apartment.

"love, i'm home!" kento immediately took off his shoes, quickly searching for your figure.

"ken! i was just about to text you," you ran to the front door, quickly giving him a peck on his cheek. kento instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist, you swatting it away immediately. a touch

"you're dirty! i'm already clean, wash up first," you pinched your nose, pretending as if kento had smelled bad. kento quickly laughing at your antics. "let's get you cleaned up," you quickly took off his tie, putting it beside his briefcase. pushing him to your bathroom, so you could finally cuddle up with the blonde man.

kento took the fastest shower he could muster, trying to get into your arms as quickly as possible. as soon as he was done with his shower, he quickly walked to your bedroom with drenched hair and a towel in his hand.

"can you..." he nudged you with the towel, asking you to dry his hair. you simply patted the empty space beside you, kento quickly sitting.

you were on your knees on the bed, kento quickly wrapped his arms around your waist looking up at you. touch. he was content, a smile on his face as he watched you dry his hair.

"all done!" you ruffled his almost dry hair. you were about to get up to put it in the hamper, but kento's grip on you tightened.

"just put it aside...stay," and stay you did. you put the towel in your bedside table, kento's hand still touching your waist. touch

you quickly moved to get into your covers, tired out from the day you had experienced. as you finally laid down, you could feel a hand on your waist and a slight force nudging you to kento's side. you followed the force, letting it take you to kento's embrace. your head touching his chest, his arm right behind your head, his thumb making circles. touch

as you fell asleep in his arms, he was still awake...thinking. maybe he was too hypocritical, but for you, he would be the most hypocritical man in the world without any guilt.

[wcters]

𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗜𝗡 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 2k+

summary: your relationship with lando through the teenage years

warnings: pda, established relationship, mostly fluff, some angst | i know lando moved to glastonbury later in his life but 🤫 i also wrote this in 2 hours instead of doing because i got excited and had an idea

     You and Lando had first met when you were teenagers. Him being a lanky teenage boy with puffy cheeks and curly hair, and you being a young girl with frizzy hair and a youthful look in your eyes. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone when you first started dating, it’s like you both were on the same wavelength.

You still remember the day you met him ━━ how could you not? You two went to the same school so you knew who each other was, and you had heard of him from people around the town talking about his karting career. Your parents were family friends with the Norris’s, and they never failed to talk about how proud they were of their children.

It was the start of school after the 2013 summer break. You had quite a small friend group in school so when you had classes with no one you were friends with, you tended to be quiet and focus on your school work. That resulted in you being forced to sit next to the rowdy kids. Why? You didn’t know. It’s not like it changed them, and it just bothered you. It was one of those times, and it was Lando who was put next to you. Him and his friend group tended to be the disruptive bunch. They weren’t bad people or bad at school, just got a little too loud at times and forgot to pay attention.

You were sat in the middle row of your math class. The seat next to you was empty at the start of class, but at the end it wasn’t. Lando and his friends got a little too loud and he was “punished” by being put next to you so he couldn’t talk with his friends. You looked at him when he made his way over, but that was it. He was cute ━━ you could admit it. And it didn’t hurt that someone cute was being put next to you, but you shook your feelings off and forced yourself to focus. At them end of class when you were grabbing your things, a hand poked your shoulder. You turned around and came face-to-face with the Norris boy. He looked a little nervous, fidgety and a small smile on his face. You tilted your head. “Hey ━━ I uh ━━ didn’t have enough time to finish some of the notes. Do you mind if I borrow some of yours?”

You were a little surprised, you didn’t think he cared that much about school. Most kids wouldn’t bother getting down a little bit you missed ━━ not even you ━━ but he did. You smiled and nodded. “Sure,” you told him as you grabbed the paper out of your binder and gave it to him, “just return it once you’re done?” He nodded. The next day in class, he walked over to you and gave the paper pack, and you figured he would go back to his friends because the seat want permanent, but he didn’t. He put his bag on the ground and sat in the seat next to you. He did that, every day, for the rest of the year.

You two got to know each other well. You learned more about his competitive karting career and his family, while you told him about your family and friends. Nothing ever happened between you two, you were just friends. You had a crush on him, but you convinced yourself it was your mind tricking you because it was your first friend that was a boy. He thought the same, but he didn’t not believe his, he just didn’t act on it.

It was summer break, a year after you met him, when you realized you did like him. You were chatting with your grandma at her house as you were helping her sting stuff around the house. She had asked about your school semesters and how it was. You rambled on and on, not realizing that you mostly takes about Lando. It wasn’t until you were putting one of the last boxes down for her that it finally hit. “You must really like that boy, no?” You looked at her weird. “All you did was talk about him. You must like him.” It was when she said that that you had a moment of realization. After you finished helping her you went home to your mom and talked to her, confused on how to deal with this newfound information. She just laughed and gave you a hug, telling you that almost every teenage girl goes through this with someone in their life. That made you feel a bit better.

Your friendship turned into something more a couple weeks after that. The Norris family had invited your family to come watch one of Lando’s races at Buckmore Park. Your parents agreed as they wanted to catch up . . . You agreed because you wanted to see Lando. He did well, coming 5th place. You could tell he wasn’t happy about, but you were. You and your family met up with him at the end of the race. He wasn’t looking too happy, but when he saw you his face lit up. When you congratulated him he blushed. Your families talked for a bit ━━ mostly about how summer break was going ━━ and you were about to leave when Lando called out your name.

Your family continued to leave, saying they would meet up with you at the car with your mom winking at you. You blushed. At first there was some awkward silence, and then he asked “would you like to go on a date?” You were a bit shocked, not expecting it, and you were nervous. What did people do on dates anyway? You know adults went out to eat and drink but you were fifteen! You completely forgot that you had to answer his question, and he started sputtering out words saying that you didn’t have to, and he was sorry before you interrupted him with a “yes.” It was his turn to look surprise.

You went on a date the next week, both of you unknowingly doing the same thing and panicking to your parents beforehand. It went fine, a bit awkward ━━ obviously ━━ but you thought it was cute. You went out for icecream and walked around Bristol. Halfway through the date he slipped his hand into yours, and you accepted it, but didn’t dare to look him in the eye.

After that, you two were inseparable. You two were always together, and practically lived at each others houses. Sometimes ━━ for weeks on end ━━ your parents never saw you a lot because you were always at Lando’s house. His parents always updated yours on how you were, and they trusted you. During an interview for Drive to Survive, your parents swore during those times they only saw you in the morning and night, the rest of the time you were with Lando. This would switch between you staying at his and him staying at yours.

Though Lando wouldn’t admit it when he was a teenager, he would do anything for you. If you asked him to jump off a bridge, he wouldn’t even ask why, he’s just do it. There are so many pictures on your phone and Polaroids of him in “embarrassing” situations ━━ like one where he had a face mask on and his nails painted. You keep that one in the back of your phone case. He would let you braid his hair, practice makeup on him, help him with his skincare, and so many other things. This would always be in the secrecy of your room and when your families weren’t there because he dreaded the day his family saw him like that.

He had no idea that you had shown his sisters and parents almost every single one. They promised to keep it quiet, and they did. You also know they won’t tell him that they have some of those pictures on their phones. It’s a secret between you and them, a need to know thing.

Whenever you had sleepovers at his house, you would stay with his sisters because you weren’t allowed to be with him ━━ for good reason ━━ and because you loved his sisters. As you got older, you bonded more with them, helping them out with boy problems and girl problems, because everyone had those girls in high school who made your life a living hell. You broke down crying when you found out they were moving to Glastonbury. How would you survive without not being able to hug your boyfriend? How would you cope without the gossip sessions with his sisters? The talks about your life over helping Cisca with dinner and talking politics with Adam? Laughing at embarrassing moments of Lando with his brother?

Before that, you had put off getting your license. You walked or took buses to most places, and it saved you money. When you found out they were moving though, you made it your life’s mission it get your license and a car. You were on moving day, helping the family with setting things up and cleaning up the place. You still remember the dinner you had that night. It wasn’t fancy, just Chinese takeout on a table in the half put together living room, but it was one of the moments where you truly felt like family. It wasn’t that you hadn’t before, but it was the private ness of the situation that really hit your heart. You begged to stay over, not caring that it was a school night, but you couldn’t. You hugged everyone goodbye with teary eyes, kissing Lando, and promising to be back soon.

And you were. When you had that car, you spent an unbelievable amount of money on gas. You drove to his house almost every weekend. Sometimes he would come over to your house, but it was mostly you going over there out of convenience. If Lando wanted to go to yours, he’d probably have to pile all of his siblings in the car, while you didn’t have to do that. Besides driving to Glastonbury, your car was also used as a pick me up. Whenever something happened with his sisters, you’d be there in a heartbeat, telling them to get in ━━ telling Lando he can’t come with him grumbling something under his breath ━━ and you’d go and grab food. Whatever they needed, you were there ready to do it? Boy problems? Junk food and a sad playlist. School problems? Listening to them vent and giving them advice. Period problems? That depended on that they wanted. You even remember one time on March break Flo had an experience with a boy and you took her to a rage room . . . It was so fun, and you definitely did it again with Cisca.

While you were there for all the important events in Lando’s life, he was the same. He was there when your grandma died, and you swore he was one of the few things that kept you together. He was there when you graduated high school and got accepted into your dream school.

Your relationship stayed the same throughout his whole career, you to where you both were now, living in Monaco. You still acted like teenagers, jokingly fighting over little things and teasing each other. Your love baver wavered, it stayed the same for each other, maybe even became stronger. There were periods in your relationship like when he first started in Formula One and you moved to college that it was tricky, but you go through it. You always would.

As you sat on the sofa in your home and twirled the ring on your finger, you remembered the whole of your relationship and the future of it. You were broken out of your trance by a kiss on your head. You hummed, not turning to look at him. “She’s gone to bed. She’s been changed and given her bottle. You smiled and looked up at him, “thank you.” He kissed you on your lips, “of course. You ready to go to bed, Mrs. Norris?” You chuckled and got up, walking around to the couch to meet him in his arms.

“Always, Mr. Norris, always.”

[awwyeah107]

#I #HAVE HAD #MOOTS #IN #MY DREAMS #And I never remember to tell them the next day so it would be weird to do so now #But #I DREAM ABOUT Y'ALL

If you ever dream/have dreamed about me please do tell me, I would love to know! Maybe possibly I'd be slightly weirded out, if it was something extremely bizarre, *but* I am certain the level of my delightedness would be far above the weirdness, if there was any weird feeling at all, which I doubt.

Also I've had a few dreams that you've been in. Most of them I don't remember what you were doing, I just remember you were there, but I do remember the very first dream I had with you in it. We were in my bedroom sitting on my bed talking about Annaáuchiwee (Riser! Nikki! All the themes! This dream was during late Óhchikaape/very early COTC days, so I don't think we talked about Billie) and life stuff and then we went downstairs and I realized my parents were there so I introduced you. XD

Oh, actually, I realized just now that I do remember one other one. I was over at a friend's house with my family, and somehow it was near you, and I messaged you and we were making plans to meet up but I woke up before we could. There was a little more to it, but the details are fuzzy in my memory now.

Why does it feel weird and intimate to mention that someone was in even the most innocuous of your dreams? Sorry my subconscious decided to think about you for a second. You were a curator at an ice cream museum that was also my second grade classroom. If you even care.

[chrissv4mp]

Hiii so I thought of something that could maybe be good and thought I’d send a request for it. I was thinking something about what happens after the chicken shop date and how Amelia goes on her other date after and Billie is super jealous but the date sucks so she ends up texting Billie the whole time and Billie is still mad but Amelia begs her for another chance and talks her into meeting up after because she realizes she should have just stuck with Billie instead of going on another date and then they hook up. You could make it the reader instead of Amelia if you want I just love the storyline and how flirty and hot Billie was in that interview. For the sex I’d like dom Billie/strap/choking/orgasm denial/squirting if possible but just do your thing hahaha thank youuuh😘

𝜗𝜚 SHE CAN'T COMPARE

WARNINGS: SMUT, sorta angst(?), strap-on sex, choking, orgasm denial, degradation, squirting, dom/sub dynamics, meandom!billie, brattysub!reader.

NOTES: okay woah guys i actually finished this quite fast..

WORDS: 6.2k

SUMMARY: During your "date" with Billie, you accidently let it slip that you have another date after this. However, you can't get the argument out of your head, leading you right back to Billie.

TAGS: @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @cannibalsclass @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @meliciousmel13 @zayluvss @hrtsdollie

BILLIE EILISH × F!READER

"I'm actually going on a date after this." You blurt with a smile on your face as you take a sip of your drink. When you see Billie's face drop, you almost choke on the liquid, "Sorry."

Billie just crosses her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair as she stares at you with those intimidating eyes of hers, "What the hell?" She chuckles, glancing at the camera. She didn't look irritated, but you knew damn well that she was.

With all the playful flirting behind the scenes and the soft, quick touches, it wasn't hard to miss that she had at least some interest in you. And it wasn't weird because you've been friends for quite some time before you finally had the courage to ask her to be on the show.

For a few moments, all that consumed the room was silence. Tense silence, to be exact. Billie's gaze spoke to you like nobody's ever did, and somehow, you knew exactly how she was feeling. You bite your lip nervously, eyes moving away from hers as it becomes too much.

"That—it—I didn't mean to say that." You stutter awkwardly, a coy smile on your face for the camera. The whole crew was still here, and you really hoped they didn't notice what was going on between the two of you, "Just a thought I didn't mean to blurt out."

Billie nods her head, "Well, you sure did." She scoffs, sounding more as a laugh to distract the camera crew and the people who would see this when it came out. She tilted her head as you took another sip of your drink to wash away the dryness of your throat.

"Right—shit—Sorry?" You mutter in an apologetic tone, leaning back in your chair to make a little more distance between your bodies. The table didn't even seem to create distance at this point. Her eyes were trained on yours, but yours were nervously tracing the pattern on the tablecloth.

Billie rolls her eyes playfully at your response, fixing her posture and sitting up straight, "So—You're goin' on an actual date after this?" She asks, both literally and just for the cameras. More literally, but nobody has to know.

"No—Billie, it's—This is a real date." You smile, trying to lighten the mood as you giggle softly at her jealousy. She was intimidating, but God, was she childish when she got like this, "I meant like a friend... date. With my girlfriends." You mutter, watching as an amused smile comes to Billie's face.

"Oh, so now you have girlfriends?" She scoffs, tone playful, shaking her head softly as she licks her lips. She adjusts her hat, muttering something too quiet for the microphone to pick up as she reaches for a fry.

You just stay silent, thinking of anything you could say that would change the topic. She was only teasing you now, clearly, "I'm actually just going home right after this. Maybe with you, even." You smile, watching as Billie raises an eyebrow at your harmless flirting.

"But you don't wanna stand up the lucky girl, do ya?" Billie questions, seemingly a joke to the camera, but hitting you very hard in reality. She shifts in her seat again, eyes dragging along your body and silently praying that it wouldn't be caught on camera.

You shake your head as you hopelessly stutter your reply, "I—no—there's no date after this. It was a joke." You play it off terribly, mentally cursing yourself for even blurting the stupid words in the first place, "Y'know, you're really hitting me hard and soft with these replies."

Billie's lips part at your word play on her new album, nodding her head as she chuckles, "Well, maybe next time, don't bring up your other date." She teases. When you glance into her eyes, you can tell exactly what she's thinking. And it's anything but sweet.

"Billie, there's no—I don't have a date, forget I even said that!" You shush, rolling your eyes at her as you take the last sip of your drink. Billie just shrugs nonchalantly, hiding her true emotions as she bites her lip, "Okay."

The camera equipment is slowly getting put away and hauled into the back of some moving van. But, you and Billie are still sitting at the same table you were in the interview. It was getting dark, and you did, in fact, have a real date that you had to be at soon.

Billie stays quiet, finishing up her food and stealing glances at you every now and then. Her thoughts are all over the place, jealousy pumping through her veins as the hand in her lap grips her jeans roughly. Her eyes snap up to yours right when you decide to finally look at her.

"What's her name?" Billie mutters, face even more stern than before when you were both being recorded. Now, she could finally express herself with words that didn't sound light-hearted, "Your date, I mean." She states, taking the last fry into her mouth and waiting for your reply.

You stay silent, almost dumbfounded, that she was still stuck on that topic. It'd been almost an hour and a half since you had that conversation, and yet it was still lingering in the air. A forced chuckle emits from your throat as you sit up straight, "Ms. None-of-your-concern."

Billie perks up at your response, cocking an eyebrow at your words. She'd never seen this side of you, and you really should've known that right now was not the time nor place for you to show her it, "Don't gimme that shit right now. You're acting like a child."

"Yeah, well, were you not acting the same while the cameras were rolling?" You retort, furrowing your eyebrows as the smile on your face slowly fades. She just scoffs in response, rolling her eyes she breathes out some stupid argument.

Your leg bounces beneath the table, mind racing as you check the time. You only had about an hour before your real date, and God, did you want to get away from Billie sooner. You can still feel her eyes burning holes through you, but you pay her no mind, huffing quietly in exasperation.

Billie notices the way you check your phone every few minutes, and it only annoys her further each time she catches you, "Better hurry up. Bet she wants to take you home later tonight, maybe even fuck—"

"Fuck you." You scoff, moving back in the chair as the screeching noise reverberates around the small, empty restaurant. You swiftly grab your jacket before storming out, leaving Billie alone in her seat, fuming.

"But your date's already gonna do that!" She calls angrily, hands clenched into fists as she watches the door slam behind you loudly. Her eyes stay on the glass for a moment longer, almost waiting for you to come back. But, you never do, so she just sits in silence.

Her head lolls back as she closes her eyes, sucking in a deep breath before she huffs out in frustration. Sure, maybe she was in the wrong, but who's to say you weren't as well? You knew how jealous she got. Each time she had a crush, she'd always run to you to complain about their ex's, never hiding her jealousy. And she was sure you didn't forget, you just knew how to push her buttons.

Quiet footsteps caught her attention, head turning in the direction of the kitchen, only to find the owner of the small restaurant approaching her, "We're closing soon, ma'am." He says, the tiredness clear in his tone and eyes. Billie just nods, humming quietly as she grabs her stuff and throws it away on her way out.

The lights hanging above you dimly lit the table and the girl across the table from you, highlighting her ocean blue eyes, quite like Billie's mesmerizing ones—No.

You shift in your seat as you listen to her, nodding at almost each word she says in an effort to seem like you were really listening. But, in reality, all you could hear was the chatter of other people seated around you. All you could even think about was what happened earlier that evening, at the restaurant with Billie.

Maybe that was the one thing that was distracting you, the one thing that made you think this date was going horribly. The girl wasn't even boring or an asshole. She was sweet and genuinely interesting. You just didn't know what was wrong with yourself.

You smile softly as you notice she's stopped talking, toying with the food on your plate, your fork twirling the pasta around it but not exactly bringing it to your lips to eat it. You'd lost your appetite, and you knew it wasn't from the food you ate a few hours prior to this.

"You okay?" She asks, and that's the one thing that pulls you out of your thoughts, eyes snapping to hers. They were swelling with concern, and so was her facial expression. God, you were really blowing it. Maybe you were the asshole.

The fork leaves your hand, clattering against the plate softly as you nod in response, "Yeah, I'm sorry. I just—Need to use the restroom real quick." You mutter, an apologetic look in your eyes as you stare into hers. You knew yourself that you wouldn't come back, so you didn't even bother promising it, instead just smiling at her before quickly rushing to the restrooms.

When you're out of her sight, you grab your phone from your bag, unlocking it as you open the door to the women's bathroom, making your way down to the furthest stall from the door and locking yourself in.

You click the first pinned contact, not even needing to look at who it is before you begin typing, leaning against the tiles of the bathroom wall.

y/n: hey

You bite your lip as you patiently wait for her response, muttering something along the lines of, "Please don't be mad at me, please don't be mad at me, please—."

When the three little dots show up, you let out a breath you hadn't even known you were holding, gripping your phone tighter as your eyes dart all around the screen.

billie: thought u were at ur date?

y/n: bored

y/n: cant stop thinking about our fight

y/n: you keep distracting me. idiot

You can almost feel her own emotions through the device. That sexy chuckle of hers imprinted in your mind. She gives your last text a thumbs down, and then the three little dots begin to bounce again.

billie: good to know im still on your mind tho

billie: also thats not even my fault??? js stop thinking of me then youll be okay 🤷‍♀️

y/n: kinda hard when you teased me the entire fucking interview

y/n: even off camera dude like wtf

Billie shifts on her couch, your words making her heart swell with pride. Even if you did piss her off, she was still happy she was on your mind. But, really, when wasn't she floating around somewhere in there?

billie: sorry for being me, damn

billie: also wtf why are you skipping over that shit that you did at the restaurant?

billie: like ok tell me you have another date after i was clearly flirting with you fr the entire interview

Her lip was tucked between her teeth harshly, biting down almost hard enough to draw blood as she watched the dots begin to bounce in the small grey bubble again.

When you finally sent the text, her facial expression softened.

y/n: im really sorry billie. i didnt know it would hurt you, it wasnt my intention

billie: huh

billie: well it sure as hell seemed like it was

You sigh quietly as your eyes scan over her texts over and over again. Fuck, why did she have to be stubborn?

Your thumbs quickly begin to work on the screen, typing out an almost pathetic apology. No—It wasn't even an apology—It was more of a stupid text begging her to forgive you.

y/n: im really sorry bills

y/n: i dont want us to fight. please

y/n: i didnt even want to come here after it

y/n: you know i hate when ur mad at me

y/n: ill apologize to u a million times more if thats what u want

Her heart beats faster, and she swears it might pop out of her chest any moment now. Her thumbs quickly type out a response, a stupid smile coming onto her face.

billie: dont

y/n: well can you at least pick me up cus u were being an asshole too

y/n: pls can you pick me up i really dont wanna see the look on the poor girls face when she finds me in this bathroom stall texting u

billie: idk i might js make you wait 30 mins so she can find u in there

Your eyes roll at her texts, scoffing at her responses. She was so difficult, and you hated her for it.

billie: hurry to the front im omw dummy

A smile quickly comes onto your face as you read the last text, almost squealing until you remember that she wouldn't be easy when you got in the car. Fuck, this was gonna be a long night.

The car pulls up slowly in the front of the restaurant, and you glance back one final time at the windows before scurrying off the sidewalk and jumping into the passenger seat of Billie's car.

She doesn't even wait for you to put your seatbelt on, quickly driving forward to exit the parking lot of the place. Her eyes trace your side profile as she waits for cars to pass, her gaze going unnoticed as you buckle your seatbelt.

"Have fun?" She mutters quietly, jealousy bubbling underneath her skin and seeping through in her tone as her eyes avert back to the road. You turn your head at her words, sighing in annoyance. She was still going on about it.

Your cross your arms over your chest as you look out of the windshield at the cars passing by, feeling her car jolt forward as she gets onto the main road, "If I did, I wouldn't have texted you, idiot."

Billie scoffs at your name-calling, rolling her eyes as she presses on the breaks at a red light. She takes the chance to look at you again, eyes traveling lower this time and catching onto your change of clothes.

You were wearing a short black dress, the neck cutting low and exposing some of your cleavage. She would've pounced on you right then and there if it wasn't for the traffic behind her. And also if she wasn't still so fucking furious at you.

Her own choice of clothing was the complete opposite of whatever slutty piece of cloth you were wearing, her sweatpants hanging low on her waist and exposing the waistband of her 'HIT ME HARD AND SOFT' boxers.

When the light turned green, it was your turn to admire stare. On her top half, she was wearing a little white tank, the straps thin and almost slipping off her shoulders each time she moved her arms to turn the wheel.

Her nipples were poking through the thin tank, and it felt almost impossible to look away. Until she spoke and you got too nervous to keep staring, "Well, I still wanna know how it went."

Liar. She was only talking about it so that you wouldn't forget the deep shit you were in when you got to your house. Or maybe her house? You didn't know, and you honestly didn't want to. You wouldn't bother asking, either, not wanting to hear the whole, 'why did you change the topic?' rant.

"It was good, actually." You murmur, an idea sparking in your head as you glance at her face again. You can practically see the way her eyes twitches in annoyance, and it only spurs you on to say your next words, "She was so sweet, and she cared a lot. I could tell just by her pretty eyes."

Billie has to stop herself from slamming on the breaks in the middle of the road, instead deciding to breathe in deeply and bite her lip. Her grip on the steering wheel increases in tightness, tilting her head to the side like she always did when she was infuriated.

"Yeah?" She seethes, cocking an eyebrow as she takes another quick glance at you. She catches a glimpse of that stupid smile on your face, and it only makes her angrier. You hum in response.

"Yeah." You reply, giggling quietly as you watch her knuckles turn white from the grip she has on the wheel. She presses down on the gas harder, and the car only accelerates faster down the route to her house, "Flirted with me the entire time, asked me if I needed anything. She even pulled out my chair for me."

Billie nods almost robotically, like she's being forced to listen to you brag about the girl. Because she is. She can't just jump out of the car into the road, even if she really did want to in that moment.

"That's—Yeah, that's nice." She mutters, jaw clenched. Even if you had only said a few sentences about no-name-girl, she was tired of it already. She only started the conversation to maybe undermine you? She didn't even know anymore, all she knew was that she was going to die if you kept talking about this girl.

"And—" Billie couldn't turn onto the street to her house fast enough, speeding down the road as she tried to drown you out. Her eyes burned holes through you, specifically your chest. She didn't understand why you chose to wear that revealing dress for that stupid girl and not for her.

She pulled into the driveway quickly, turning her key and pulling it out after putting the car in park. Her hands rested in her lap as she threw her head back against the headrest, eyes shutting softly as she breathed out.

"Stay there." She whispered, getting out of the car and slamming it with a loud thud. Your eyes followed her as she rounded the car, gaze coming down to see her sweatpants falling down only a little further.

She opened your own door before you could. It made her crazy when you even tried to open it by yourself, so even if she was pissed, she'd never forget to open it for you. When you exited her car, she slammed your door and locked the car, following behind you to the front door.

You type in her code proudly, reaching for the door handle but quickly being swatted away by her own ring-clad hand. You laugh at her gestures, watching as she opens the door for you and lets you go in first.

She's silent the whole time. Even as she closes and locks the door behind her, no words slip from between her lips, only gentle breaths as she rubs her temples. Her eyes basically undress you as you walk down the hall and throw your bag onto her couch, heart beating faster and faster as the seconds pass by.

Her vision is blurred as she follows after your footsteps, time seeming to slow as she looks around at the pictures hanging on the walls. When she finally makes it into the living room, you're sitting down on the couch, legs spread like you owned the place.

And, honestly, it seemed like it after being here 24/7. You even convinced Billie into giving you a key with no hesitation on her part. She grips onto the wall harshly, holding herself up as her eyes take in all that was you. Your scent already fills the room, making her head spin and blurring her vision further.

Her other hand rests inside of her pants, the action normal because of how abnormally cold she always was. But, this time, you see her hand moving beneath the fabric in a repeated motion. Like she's stroking something.

Your lips curve into a smirk at the sides, sitting up taller as you realize. She only comes closer, now leaning against the far end of the couch across from you.

"Thought you were mad." You hum, tilting your head in imitation. You cross your legs, hands running along your thighs through the fabric and making your dress ride up. Billie groans quietly, gaze fixed sternly on you.

A few more steps, and now her hand is holding herself up on the couch cushion you were sitting on. Her lips almost touch your earlobe, breathing on your neck as her small smirk fades. She scoffs, her other hand slowly creeping onto your thigh and squeezing, "I'm fucking furious."

You smile at her words, gasping softly as she squeezes your thigh tighter. She leans back, lips level to yours as her eyes flit down to them, then back up to your beautiful eyes. You're the first one to close the gap, grabbing her face and practically pulling her onto your lap, your lips fitting onto hers so perfectly.

Her hands moved to your hips, quickly flipping your positions so that you were on top of her. As you sat on her lap, you could feel the bulge beneath her sweatpants poking at your thigh, causing an amused smile to creep onto your face, "Predicted this, huh?"

"Shut up." She grumbles, ring-clad fingers wrapping around your neck and smashing your lips onto hers. Your hips slowly grind on her sweatpants, moaning quietly against her mouth as your hands grip at her shoulders, nails digging into her skin.

Billie groans at the subtle pain, pushing her hips up when she feels you begin to rock back and forth on her lap. Her free hand moves down to undo the tie of her sweatpants, finding it difficult with only one hand and her eyes closed, "Ma, take 'em off f'me, would you?"

You don't hesitate, the need to tease her thrown out of the window. For now, at least. Your hands leave her shoulders quickly, pulling away from her lips with hesitancy as you look down to see what you're doing. Billie's eyes are on you the whole time, biting her lip as she feels you tug down her sweatpants and let them pool at her ankles.

Billie bucks her hips against you, and this time, it's like you can feel everything. Your lips part in surprise at her sudden movement, a quiet squeak emitting from your throat at how big her dick feels.

"Gonna sit and stare, or are you gonna take it off?" Billie sighs, her patience wearing thinner than before. It didn't help that you were still fully clothed, either. Her hands leave your neck and hip, moving behind and messing with the zipper of the skimpy black dress that adorns your beautiful body, pulling it down until you could easily slip out of it.

You crawl off her lap, eyes hooded and full of desire as you slowly strip for her. Her hands grip the couch cushions tightly, holding herself back from even saying anything that would elicit a snarky response from your part.

The dress falls to the floor, revealing your naked figure to her. She wanted so bad to call you a slut for not wearing any undergarments, to degrade you until you broke beneath her and finally gave in. But she stayed silent, instead taking in your mind-consuming presence.

When you came closer and dropped to your knees in front of her, she bit her lip. Her hands and thighs trembled as you rested your cheek on the inner part of her thigh, leaving a wet kiss on the bulge in her boxers before you grabbed the waistband of the constricting fabric with your teeth. Her breaths were short and ragged, eyes wide as she watched the silicone cock spring free.

Once her boxers were at her ankles, your eyes found hers again, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you came closer. Your lips hovered over the tip of her dick, spitting on it before your hand came up to stroke it softly, thumb rubbing at the tip as if she could actually feel it.

"Get up." She breathed, eyes locked on yours as you continued to stroke your hand up and down her dick, listening carefully to each quiet sound that she made, whether it be a whimper or a real moan, "Y/N, fuckin' listen." It was a clear warning, the way her tone changed just an octave lower, a very prominent warning that she wasn't gonna be easy if you disobeyed her again.

But, still, you stayed on your knees in front of her, your hand rubbing the silicone quicker. And, as much as she liked the way you looked on your knees, her hand quickly came down to grab a handful of your hair, tugging at it harshly in yet another warning.

This time, you listened, nodding softly as your hand left her cock, rising to your feet in front of her. Her hand left your hair as you moved up, standing up and stepping out of her sweatpants and boxers, kicking off her shoes and leaving her in only socks and that thin tank top barely covering anything.

"Want you on the bed, Y/N." She demands softly, eyes hooded and irises swirling with lust and anger. You nod, biting your lip as your eyes fall lower on her body, chuckling quietly as you see the fake dick standing tall between her thighs, "And don't make me fucking tell you again." She snarls.

You nod again once her words register in your head, your feet taking you down the hallway and into her room at the end of it. You shut the door behind you softly, scurrying onto the bed and seating yourself in the middle of it, back against the headboard and legs spread just for when she came back.

The time seems to pass way slower as you shift on her dark sheets, your lower back leaning against the pillows that she slept on each night. The room smelled heavily of Billie, her perfume filling all your senses and going straight to your core. This wasn't where you expected to end up tonight at all, but you weren't against it.

The creaking sound of the door is what catches your attention, finding yourself sitting up taller and gripping at the sheets. Billie pushes the door open slowly, hair up in a low ponytail, her tank top gone and revealing her tits.

You're unable to suppress a whine as she comes closer, locking the door behind her and only making you squeeze your thighs together, bucking your hips against nothing but the cool air in the room.

She moves so quickly that it should've been considered inhumane, her hands touching you everywhere all at once. Her hair tickles your shoulder as she tilts her head, lips pressing against your neck so softly as her hands grip at your tits so roughly. Her knee is slotted between your thighs, pressed harshly against your wet pussy and feeling every movement you make.

"She wouldn't kiss you like this," Billie whispers, biting at the sensitive spot just behind your ear, feeling as your body tenses beneath her, throat dry, and lips agape to let out all the pretty noises she was the cause of, "Only me." She finishes her sentence, moving to another part of your neck to scatter kisses and marks anywhere she possibly could.

Her thumbs circle your nipples, nails leaving soft indentations as she tries her hardest not to go absolutely insane on you. Just the thought of that girl fired her up, urging her to just ruin you first and then take it slow. But the bratty attitude you had all day only encouraged her to tease you, break you slowly, and then fuck you hard and rough until you were unable to say anything but her name, "I'm right?" She breathes, kissing your collarbone as she descends your body.

Her teeth nibble at the skin just above your tits, leaving hickeys in the shape of a heart slowly but surely. All you can do is nod in response, body reacting so eagerly to her teasing touches and kisses. She was driving you insane, but if you said anything, she'd only take it slower. It was torture.

"Answer me." Billie demands, biting down particularly hard just above your nipple, smirking against your skin as she hears you yelp softly. It's almost like she can feel your heartbeat on her lips, her head spinning with every idea of what she wanted to do with you tonight, "You were very keen to the idea of fuckin' smart-mouthing me during that interview. In front of people, too?"

"God, you just can't stand being good for more than 5 minutes, can you?" She scoffs softly, voice teasing and playful, but her words were real. She meant everything, and you knew that very well. Her lips wrapped around your nipple when she felt your fingers in her hair, tangling in the dark strands and pulling weakly. You whined at her degrading words, her knee hitting your clit perfectly as you rocked your hips sloppily.

"Bills—Only you, j-jus' you," you confirm, your voice merely a mewl in her ears, but to you, it was using all of the strength you currently had, trembling beneath Billie even though she's barely even touched you yet, "Please..." You beg, eyes fluttering shut as you find the perfect spot on her knee to grind on, hips moving faster.

Billie moves to your other nipple, sucking harshly and nibbling at the erect bud as her hands caress your thighs, nails scratching up and down your skin and making your thighs tremble just that little bit more. She releases your nipple from between her lips with a pop, now hovering over your face, removing her knee from between your legs, guessing knowing that you were close, "Please, what?"

"F-fuck me, Billie—Please—Jus'.. mm." You stumble over your words, mind scattered and unable to say anything to form a real sentence. Billie understands, though, a cocky smirk on her face as she moves her hand to one side of your body, holding herself up as her other hand pulls your thighs apart, lining her cock up with your entrance before she pushes it all in at once.

Your quiet cries are music to her ears, your trembling body cute and meek. Her hand leaves the silicone dick, traveling up your body and leaving a trail of fire up to your neck where she wraps her fingers around your throat, applying more pressure than you thought she would. You gasp quietly, the action only making the whole situation hotter and more intimate. She tilts her head, "You like that, don't you?"

You nod the best you can, whimpering softly as she slowly thrusts her hips, eyes examining your every movement from the way your chest rose and fell with the ragged breaths you took to the way your eyes fluttered each time her dick rubbed you in just the right way. Pathetic pleas for her to go faster slip from your lips, toes curling at her torturously slow pace, hands fisting at the sheets messily.

"Pleasepleaseplease—faster.." Billie's grip on your throat tightens at your words, eyebrows furrowing as she watches your eyes roll back, "Want me deeper, yeah?" She mocks, the fire in her lower abdomen growing as she sees you nod frantically, her hips already slamming into you almost twice as fast than she was fucking you before.

She leans closer to your neck, inhaling your scent and smelling her own perfume on your skin. A chuckle fills your ear, only making you moan louder, the whiny sound reverberating off the walls. Your back arches, chest coming up to brush against hers as you writhe beneath her relentless pace. Grunts fill your ears as she finds the perfect rhythm, muttering the dirtiest things in your ear imaginable. The words she was spitting should've cut deep, but they didn't, only adding to your pleasure and making you physically react.

As you squeeze your eyes shut, you see stars flash behind your eyelids, her strap hitting that sweet spot each time she thrusts into you. Your knuckles are white from the animalistic grip you have on her sheets, your orgasm approaching quicker than you could've imagined. Billie doesn't miss the way your breathing pattern changes, feeling it on her chest and hearing it 10x louder now that your head was turned slightly to the side, "Bill—Baby, fuuckk... plea—!"

"Hm?—Tell me, Mama, tell me." She mutters, almost begging you as her hips slap against yours each time she fully bottoms out. An evil smile is plastered on her face, but you don't know that. You don't even know what she'll say in response to your pleas to cum. But, you honestly don't think you'd be able to hold it either way, "Too fucked out to speak, s'that it? Can't even think, can ya? My dumb girl."

"Cum—Wanna cum, please, need t'cum!" You warn, your voice a mere squeak as you pull at the sheets. Tears streak down your face now, her silence making it impossible for you to keep whatever composure you had left. Billie breathes softly into your neck, kissing your shoulder before coming up to press a sweet kiss to your neck. Much sweeter than the words that fall from between her lips, "I think you can wait, hm? Since you made me wait so fuckin' long for this." She shakes her head in faux disappoint, scoffing.

"Hold it." She snarls, eyes narrow, lips parted and swollen, hips relentless. The headboard hit the wall in time with her hips, bedframe creaking beneath your bodies as she fucks you wildly, making it impossible to obey her commands. You try to squeeze your thighs together, but she doesn't let them close, sighing in annoyance as she gives your throat a warning squeeze, having you gasp for air, "Just a little longer." She groans, almost like she can feel the way your pussy clenches around her dick, walls fluttering from the immense pleasure.

Cries and whines are the only things that can leave your throat, dry from the screaming and moaning you've been doing for almost—Fuck, you didn't even know at this point. All you did know was the size of her dick, the sounds of her groans, and the look on her face as she fucked you recklessly. The bed shook, and you were sure her neighbors would be here in the morning to complain about the noises, but neither of you cared. The only thing either of you cared about was that you finally had each other.

Your vision blurs from the tears in your eyes, trying your best to keep them open but failing in the end as she pushes her body closer to yours—if that was even possible—and hits you at a different angle, the silicone cock sliding deeper between your walls. She's almost surprised at how well you're holding up, a smirk on her face as she tries her hardest to break you, free hand pulling and twisting at your nipple as her other squeezes your throat from time to time.

"Cum." She finally allows. It takes you a moment to register, but once you see her head nod in your blurred vision, you let go. The light, wet ring around the base of the dick only gets whiter as your juices flow onto her, squirting onto your thighs and parts of hers as your body shakes uncontrollably beneath hers. Your back arches further, chest pressing harsher against hers as you cry out her name, lower lip trembling, "Thankyouthankyouthankyou—Mm.." Your words come out in a hurry, thoughts messy and incapable of forming any other words.

Her hips slow, helping you ride out your high before she stops completely. She leans over you, fingers unraveling around your neck and coming up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your tear-stained cheek with a look of adoration in her ocean blue irises, "Y'think she'd be able to do that?" She teases, giggling softly at your mumbled words, your eyelids fluttering open and closed, clearly sleepy.

"Shh.." You giggle stupidly, pushing her face away weakly. You gasp quietly when you feel her pull out slowly, wincing at the slightly overstimulating feeling. The emptiness makes you frown, whining like a baby as she pulls away from your body completely, "No, no, Ma, m'right here." She coos as she comes back into your blurry vision, strap discarded somewhere on the floor. Her hands wrap around your body, enveloping you in warmth as she cuddles close to you, "She can't compare." Billie whispers, knowing damn well she won the stupid challenge that she made up.

[endearng]

Doomed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: If you and Spencer had a nickel every time someone teased you after witnessing your interactions, you'd have two nickels, which isn't much — but it's weird that it happened twice. WC: 4.4k Warnings: Mentions of abandonment and I think that's it. Let me know if I missed anything. A/N: HI!!! I'm so obsessed with them... in a normal amount of course. I'm thinking about writing casually for them, who knows... Also,,,, who am I if not a morcia truther….. I hope you enjoy it! Feedbacks are always appreciated <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

You were doomed from the moment he bid you goodbye.

"So, who's he?" Victoria inquired, a sly smirk on her face and a bashful expression on yours.

"Who's who?" You asked, trying to feign nonchalance.

She groaned playfully, "You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't." You winked, sitting on your couch again, between the two women. Sex and the City was playing on the TV across from the three of you.

"You're acting like us as freshmen when the seniors looked at us—" she retorted.

"I thought we didn't talk about that," Jude deadpanned.

"You're 'I don't know what you're talking about' me? I thought we were friends!" Victoria poked you in the rib.

"Ouch! He's just a friendly neighbor, that's it." You said, trying to cut the subject. Jude looked at you suspiciously. "White wine time."

From Spencer's apartment, he could hear the sound of chatter, joyful laughter and opening bottles for the rest of the night. He didn't know how to feel by your invitation, now that he had calmed down after looking you in the eye for a moment, technically, all by yourselves. He would definitely feel inappropriate at a kid's birthday where he barely knew the people who invited him, but he thought that Olivia's gesture was amazingly endearing. What could possibly be more childishly adorable than an infant trying to help and making a 'mistake'? And what could possibly be more devastatingly endearing than a mother taking advantage of said mistake to make it right?

Spencer studied the card for a moment. It fit the palm of his hand, tiny and delicate. It had a different address from yours and the time of the party, all of it lovely handwritten, just like the letters from calligraphy practice notebooks. It seemed like Olivia put a lot of effort in trying to perfect her handiwork. It read:

Hey, it's Oli!

I'm turning six and I want to celebrate it with you!

The contents of the slip of paper were adorned by dainty drawings related to birthdays: party hats, cake, gifts, some decoration and so on. It suddenly dawned on him that he was actually becoming closer to the people he always thought lived a perfect life. His mind had a tendency to wander and, for a fleeting moment, he thought about what it would be like to be part of that perfect life.

Olivia was a perfectionist child. He saw the expected behavior of the age in her manners, but the care with her work almost made him think someone else had done it for her. Something told him it wasn't the case, though.

Secured by two magnets, he placed Olivia's birthday party invitation on his fridge. You know, just so he wouldn't forget it — he tried to convince himself.

Everybody knew about his otherworldly memory, but he decided to forget it purposefully.

"Good morning, good ghost. I didn't see you anymore." Olivia greeted as she saw Spencer in front of the elevator. You were just locking your door closed, hyping yourself up for the week ahead of you when you heard it and a shiver ran down your spine. This, whatever it was, was getting out of hand.

"Good morning, Miss Olivia!" He said, a sweet tone of voice. You melted. "It's true. It's been a while. I was here on the weekend, but it seemed like you had other plans." He stuck his hand out for her to shake. She did it in a heartbeat.

"I was with my grandma and grandpa. They took me to the movies and grandpa made me lasagna." She explained as you approached them, adjusting your bag and Olivia's backpack in each of your arms. "Did'ya get my birthday party invitation?"

"Yes, I did! Thank you for inviting me. But, you know, your mother probably needed the rest of them for the other guests." He said as the elevator opened. He gestured for you to enter it first, so you did it with a grateful nod.

"Sorry, mommy. I didn't mean it." Olivia looked at you briefly, ashamed that you would call her out.

"I know, baby, 's okay. Everyone has one now." You assured her with a light tone. Breathe. "Hi, Spencer. Good morning." You said as he joined you in the elevator.

He breathed out, "Good morning. Hi." He had a big smile on his face, standing right next to you, you both facing the door and Olivia in front of you. Internally, he felt like a puppy who had his owners’ undivided attention.

Olivia pressed the button to the lobby. You noticed a book in his hands. Courage. "So, what are you reading, Spencer?"

He gulped. Were you talking to him? It took him a moment to get a grip and realize that he hadn't answered you. Struggling to find the words and suddenly unable to remember what he was actually reading. "Me? I'm just re-reading one of Dostoievski's books. Notes from Underground."

"Dosto-what?" Olivia chipped in.

You looked at her, ready to tell her to not interrupt someone, but couldn't stop yourself from giggling. Spencer watched it fondly. "It's Dostoievski, baby. D'you remember that one book with the 'ugly' cover that mommy was reading the other day?" You asked her, air quoting the word 'ugly'. “It wasn’t ugly. It just wasn’t pink.” You explained it, looking at Spencer. He grinned.

"Yeah. You didn't read to me because it was work." She said, getting distracted with one of her braids.

"Are you a teacher?" He asked, intrigued.

"No. I actually work for a publishing company. Sometimes I have interesting content to revise." You said, a tinge of irony in your voice. He smiled at you, feeling comfortable enough to joke around him without the awkwardness of that first encounter.

The elevator door opened. Olivia jumped out. "I bet it's interesting," was the best he could come up with. Tongue tied.

“Yeah. It’s a good book.”

Like a fucking teenager, he watched as you left with your daughter. Your mixed laughter echoing in the lobby as Olivia spinned around while you carried the weight all by yourself.

He scolded himself for not remembering to offer you help.

Two days later, a few states over, Spencer sat on a chair at the conference room of the precinct they were working with. The case was exhausting and he just wanted it to be over, but it wasn't that simple. He waited for Derek Morgan — he was his ride that night back to the hotel they were crashing on. He was in front of Derek as he and Penelope talked, her image on the computer screen. The man's nonchalant tone was a riddle for her to unsolve — everyone else was aware that there was definitely something between them (an unspoken dictionary worth of words), even if their interactions were deemed as jokes. Penelope, feeling very shy, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her lap after a particular comment about her smile. As she did so, her eyes caught a glance of her watch. "Oh, shoot. I have to go," she murmured, relieved to have a way out of the exchange that had high chances of turning her into a nervous wreck. "I'm so sorry, handsome! Tomorrow is one of my friend's daughter's birthday."

A flash of disappointment crossed Derek's features. Not that she'd noticed. Instead of pressing her, he chose to say, "Need extra energy to keep up with the kids, babygirl?" Ah, there was it. The teasing tone. She was definitely imagining things.

"Not as much as I need to keep up with you, tiger," she replied with a wink, the dynamic between them quickly shifting back to the usual playful banter. Both of them wanted more than playful and far more than banter, but none of them had the courage to admit it, to be straightforward about it. Spencer understood it, really. Speaking made things too real. "But, seriously. I totally forgot to pick up her gift. Olivia loves reading, so I'll go to the mall. I'm glad I already bought it, so I won't get home late."

If he was a dog, Spencer's ears would have definitely perked up from how quickly he associated one thing to another. Could it be the same Olivia? Your Olivia? "Okay, mama. Be safe." Derek said.

"I will," she smiled as she hung up.

Idiots.

Maybe Derek was too serious about the "no profiling each other" rule they set.

"Let’s go, pretty boy," The dark-skinned agent stated. Spencer got up, grabbed his bag and made his way to the elevator with her.

As they chatted about nothing in particular, walking out of the precinct, he desperately wanted to ask him if she truly didn't see past Penelope's sudden shyness. It wasn't in his nature to do that, of course, but as Derek and Penelope were two of the most important people in his life, he wondered why wouldn't they be a thing by now, since they enjoyed themselves so much and were so open about their affections towards one another.

He was quickly ripped away from his thoughts when the man suddenly spoke up, “So, what's your deal lately, Reid? What's she like?"

The doctor choked on his own saliva, which made him cough like crazy. Derek laughed, but tried to help his panicked friend. "What was that, man?" he asked worriedly, once he saw Spencer had finally inhaled a gulp of air.

Face as red as a tomato, cough dying in his throat, "what was what?" Derek returned to his normal self once he noticed his friend was able to finally form a coherent sentence.

"You're gonna act dumb now that you almost died when I talked about her?" Derek questioned, teasing tone, "it was just a lucky guess, but I see you, Reid. You're daydreaming far too often for what's acceptable for the boy genius who's as focused as a laser beam."

Spencer looked straight ahead as they got to the exit. He should have cornered Derek first. "Why would you think it has anything to do with a 'her'?" He chuckled, nervous to be caught red-handed — even if he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Was it wrong to want? He felt like it was. All his life, really. Had no chance to want anything because either was a far too distant reality, person, happiness for him to grasp it or it was ripped away from him too soon, before he could even acknowledge what was happening inside him. That's why want was almost a foreign sensation for Spencer. He had been deprived of it for as long as he could remember.

"Because people get a little dumb when they're in love. At least, ordinary people do. Apparently, so do geniuses," he snickered, his mind also set on teasing Spencer.

Maybe it was dumb to reveal his secret, jaw dropping crush on his cute neighbor, but he wanted some sort of relief to that mess of tangled thoughts inside his head and the strange, to say the least, feelings brewing on his chest whenever he saw you. You barely knew each other. But he supposed it was yet another part of the want he wasn’t familiar with: it didn't need much and it took all consciousness out the door. It wasn't uncommon for him to feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest whenever he was on the field, especially since he was often facing danger. The way the events were unfolding were scarily similar to his cases: he noticed you, made up theories based on your behavior and routine, and slowly, oh, so slowly, started to approach you. Not to put you away, but for more personal reasons.

What was different was the feeling in his heart, instead of the sensation of being squeezed painfully inside his ribcage, often leading to ragged breathing, now felt like it was being held delicately by a pair of caring, dainty hands. Either way, his heart was fighting in the frontline and relied on the other part to be calmed and saved. The least he could do was try to be careful, finally opting not saying anything to Derek.

"Just a lot on my mind lately," he chose to say, instead. Derek dropped the subject, too tired to press it further.

Olivia's party had come to an end an hour ago. You got to see old friends and talked until they got every single ounce of information about your life lately and so did you about theirs. Your daughter had enjoyed her party greatly, and hugged every. single. person. who came to wish her happy birthday and thanked them for being there. She paid little attention to the gifts, too focused on spending time with her friends, playing with them until the sugar rush wore off — all of them had a massive candy intake that day. You didn't spend much time with her, but she promised you that she would unwrap her gifts the next morning with you, the most adorable toothless grin on her face.

Despite everything flowing accordingly, all day long, your stomach churned with anticipation. You wondered if Olivia's dad would show up, since the day she was born was, quote, the happiest of his life. His parents did, and when you looked at them anxiously, his mother shot you a neutral glance. Not a word from his end was its meaning. Your daughter never asked anything about him during the day, which made you even more jittery. You feared she would have a breakdown at any time, so you paid extra attention to her.

It never came.

You had missed the deadline of a book chapter that you had to revise, too caught up on trying to balance everything in your life, so your parents told you they'd stay with her so you could go home to work and take her in the morning. Normally, you wouldn't accept it, but your father had decided you were too tired to wake her to go home, so you complied. Right after the guests left, you did all the steps of her night routine, except for the bedtime story — she was that tired of all the running around in the backyard. You were sure she would sleep all night long.

Once she dozed off, you stood for a moment in her grand-bedroom (she had come up with that and it kind of stuck with you). Your parents had decorated it while you were still pregnant. She needs to feel at home, was what your mother said when you walked in on them assembling her crib. You almost cried, overwhelmed with joy. Your fiancé, then, had rolled up his sleeves to help out. Oh, the irony.

Her room was full of photographs that held many memories of her six years of life. You could never imagine that you could love this much, let alone dedicate yourself so entirely to someone like you did for her. Even though it was hard and you often didn't feel like you were enough to raise her on your own, Olivia was a wonderful child and her gestures and overall behavior assured you you were doing a good job. The reflection brought tears to your eyes. You drove home by yourself.

Currently, in your apartment, it felt a little too big without Olivia in there — too many books, too many chairs, too much space on your sofa, too many toys scattered around with nobody to play with them. You sighed, deciding on going to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea — you felt like your brain was hammering inside your skull and you still needed to spend time in front of a computer screen. Going back to your small office to wallow in self pity and second guess yourself even as you read whatever material it was, you heard a knock on the door.

You checked your watch. 9p.m. On a Saturday.

Weird.

Through the peephole, you saw someone you truly weren't expecting. "Spencer?" You asked as you opened the door, surprise filling your being. "I didn't think you'd come, I supposed you were at work. I mean, sometimes it feels like you barely have a routine, heh. But, um, thanks for dropping by." You said, a little unfiltered. Not even five seconds in his presence and you were already making a fool of yourself in front of him.

He held a small bouquet of flowers in one of his hands and a gift in the other. To a stranger's eye, it seemed like he had missed your birthday and was trying to apologize for it. You blushed at the thought. He shut his eyes, sorry crossing his features. "I know. I'm sorry I missed it, even though I really didn't want to. You were right, I was away on a case." You smiled, dismissing his apologies and soothing his worries once you did so.

"It's alright with me. She was totally expecting you, though. Kept asking where you were for the first hour. Then she got distracted with candy," you told him, "so she's the one you're gonna need to apologize to." You joked.

"T—that's why I'm here."

"I'm just not sure if Olivia is old enough to get flowers," you said, face serious. His eyes went wide and it took him a moment to understand, but once he looked at your serious expression cracking, his shoulders shook with laughter, with you. If you had more attention, you'd seen the moment his ears turned red.

Your laughter died down. A beat of silence. "These are actually for you." He revealed.

You were stunned. "Oh," you said, suddenly at a loss of words. "Thank you so much."

He gave you the flowers and you gracefully accepted. You were mesmerized by them; colors swimming in harmony before your eyes and the scent making you feel dizzy. Maybe not the scent, but the emotions you were feeling with the surprise. He went out of his way to get you those flowers — it's safe to say that it had been a while since you felt that way. "I—I have no words, Spencer. Really. Thank you so much," your voice choked.

You looked at each other for a brief moment. You tried to show how much you appreciated his gesture. You grinned, trying to get out of that haze, "Do you want to come in? Oli's with my parents, so you won't be able to apologize today," you quipped, making room for him to enter.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"You can place the giftbox on the coffee table." He went inside, toeing off his shoes in the small space you had before the living room. Once he was there, he saw you enter the kitchen to find a vase. He could see you from where he stood. "Make yourself at home. Do you want some tea? I have Earl Gray."

Your voice was distant as he took in his surroundings. "Yeah, I'd like it." He murmured as he looked around. Your walls were a light gray, adorned with pictures of you and Olivia, some people he assumed were some of your friends. The wall behind the sofa was entirely covered by a big bookshelf that went from one end to the other, filled with books and souvenirs from basically everywhere. The dark wood of the furniture complemented the light walls in a cozy way, some toys and kids books scattered around the floor. The apartment smelled like fresh printed sheets of paper and earl gray tea. You had a few indoor plants that looked well taken care of. Spencer was admiring your degree from Stanford, which hung on the wall beside the TV, almost close to the door.

"One of my biggest achievements. Besides Olivia, of course," you approached him with his mug of tea. Turning to you, he noticed through his peripheral vision that you had placed the flowers inside a vase and in your coffee table.

"Thanks," he said.

"So... are you okay?"

The question caught him off guard. What?

You smiled a little. "You always look kinda tired when I see you," you said, not thinking about how your words might be interpreted. Your eyes widened, realizing it. "I mean, no! Sorry! You're still pretty, don't worry. It's just— I asked because you might be going through something. Forget I said anything about your looks."

He would definitely never forget.

Spencer laughed, flustered, eyes softly gazing at you while you rambled like a madman. "I'm fine, thanks for asking. Sometimes my job is a little demanding and I'm forced to see some things that usually people don't even think exist," he confessed.

You bit your lip. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be," he retorted, "I have a great team to work with."

"I'm glad to hear that. Sorry I brought it up, you probably don't want to talk about work right now." You said, sipping on your tea.

"Yeah, you're right, again," he chuckled. "How was Olivia's birthday?" He tried a change of subject.

"That was actually the reason I was moping when you got here," you said, trying to force a chuckle. "It was nice, I guess. I was just on edge all day trying to anticipate her emotions regarding her dad, but I guess they never came. At least, not today." You beckoned him to sit with you on the couch, now facing each other directly.

"May I ask why?" He asked, tentatively.

"Why what?"

More hesitance. "Why wasn't he there?"

"From what I know, he moved away." You said, tone unreadable.

He worried that he was overstepping and wasn't sure that he would like to hear more about it. He was scared to find out unpleasant news, such as you still had feelings for him. "I'm sorry." Was all he could muster.

"Don't be. I have a great team," you repeated his words from earlier and he smiled at you.

His brain and tongue didn't seem to be working together that night, he was so avid to know more. "Did you always have support?"

"My parents didn't like the idea of having a single mother when they first heard it. It hit me hard back then, but then I realized it was better to be alone than to stay in an unhappy relationship, especially since Olivia was already in the picture." You said, setting your own mug on the coffee table.

"What happened?" Stop it.

He couldn't help it, he was too curious. It was his first opportunity to truly know the novel sort of family that you had. Apparently, not so much.

"He was distant before leaving. Someone else, maybe?" You asked, rhetorically, a crease between your eyebrows. "I never found out, but I don't want or need to, either. His parents absolutely love Olivia and they were there today, 's all that matters."

"You’re a very strong person."

"I have to be," you said, softly. "You’re a very good listener."

A rush of courage running through his veins. Deciding on not taking the road of unsaid things, like his friends were earlier. Don’t dance around the subject, take the opportunity. Dare. "And you're just as pretty."

The world stopped. You looked at him in disbelief. It didn't last much. A knock on your door. Scratch that: someone banging on your door.

You pinched your eyebrows together. Spencer stood up, almost as if he was doing something wrong. You looked at him, apologizing, "I'm not expecting anyone."

You walked to the door and he stood behind you, telling you he was going to let you be. You didn't want to and you were already chastising yourself from not trying to talk to him and focusing on your problems instead. You opened the door and in the threshold stood Penelope Garcia, gift basket in hands. Before you could speak, both of your guests spoke at the same time.

A mortified "Garcia?" from Spencer.

A surprised "Spencer?" from Penelope.

Finally, a confused "Do you know each other?" from you.

"Yeah. We work together." Spencer replied. "What are you doing here, Penelope?"

"What are you doing here, boygenius?" Her tone now was teasing, a cheshire grin on her face. You were acting confused, but you were loving to see Spencer so out of place.

"I... I was..." He trailed off.

Poor thing. "He came to drop Olivia's gift. We're neighbors." You explained, trying to save him from further embarrassment.

She glanced between you two, eyes full of mirth behind her glasses. "I'm here to do the same." She said, smiling as she handed you the basket, which you took carefully and thanked her with a side hug. "There's her present, sweetcheeks. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there, you know how much I miss you and Olivia. But I'm sure our genius told you all about it." Her sentimental words truly held emotion, but she turned her attention to Spencer once again. The opportunity was too good to let go.

Spencer looked like a fish out of water. You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. "Garcia, can we talk?" He asked abruptly. "I'm sorry, I have to go." He murmured in a much more soft tone to you.

He could never resume whatever was going on in there because he felt like he had been caught with his pants down.

You were so surprised you didn't even process what was your answer, forgetting to ask if Penelope wanted to come in or anything. "I—Okay. I'll see you, then." With a small smile and slight disappointment in your voice. He all but dashed out of your apartment and took Garcia, who had a mischievous expression on her face, with him. You closed your door and looked at the mix of flowers. A sigh escaped you. Damn, Garcia.

Spencer was escorting Penelope back to her car, ready to bury himself alive because he knew she would run her mouth and knew precisely to whom she would tell about it. And, of course, the endless jokes he would hear during the next few days. "Sooooo..." She trailed off, suggestively.

"I—don't want to talk." She opened her mouth, but had no success in talking. "Not. A. Word."

She entered her car and started the engine as he waited for her to go. But before she started driving, she yelled, "I knew you had it in you, Reid."

From your balcony, work long forgotten, you watched Spencer hide his face in his hands in utter embarrassment.

You were doomed.

[sashayed]

I haven't said as much about electoral politics this year as I have in previous cycles, because I am exhausted like everyone else and have nothing new or helpful to add. That is still true, so caveat lector I guess lmao!!! Happy American Election Day Fellow Sufferers!!

I have been experiencing an internal backlash the last few years to my extremely Sorkinpilled D.C. private school upbringing -- my childhood spent as a kind of convent schoolgirl in the faith of The System Is Good If We All Participate, which of course has a uhhh let's say generously a minimal engagement with the ways in which many of us are by design shut out of participating. I don't think idealism is necessarily childish, but I think MY idealism certainly has childish qualities, an undergirding of 90s feel-goodism, of civic participation as a subtle ego stroke and of voting -- although I would never have consciously put it this way -- as a way to feel superior to people who don't vote.

Lately there has bubbled up in me a sludgy, adolescent fury at this whole stupid country that has made it very very hard to feel like I should do even the bare minimum. For these people? AMERICANS? The ones that not only want Donald Trump to be president but saw what happened the first time and were like, We love this, do it again but worse? Whatever, fuckos. "I hope you people get your dearest wish and it chews you to death slowly," I may have thought.

I have also thought: why is it so controversial to ask elected officials to stop funding a genocide? Why are we treating people who make that ask, who are watching the current administration directly fund death on a mass scale and objecting to that choice, as if they are being babies and just need to get over it? How are they supposed to get over it? Why is anybody over it?

Anyway all this means that I, a known chipper door-knocker and caller of congresspeople, have been pretty low-key this current cycle. I think that is OK. I don't want to make this a big dramatic confessional about how I didn't write enough postcards or whatever. We all get exhausted and this was my turn.

But it has also been an illuminating cycle in that it's made it clear to me how much at my big age I still want politics to make me feel good, and when they don't, I still have the urge to throw a lil tantrum about it! I can get very superior and intellectual about how right-wing operatives manipulate their voters emotionally WITHOUT EVEN NOTICING that I too have been manipulated, in my case into the feeling that nonparticipation is a kind of revolutionary act.* Just absolute "I threw it on the GROUND" logic happening inside my head. "Maybe if I don't vote I will be doing Quiet Quitting, which is uhhhhh anticapitalist." I'm not a part of your system!!!

Anyway, I am trying to have self-compassion about it, and one way for me to do that is to project my internal experience onto a theoretical reader. That would be you, my imaginary friend who clicked on this post for some reason even though you have already decided not to vote! I just want to tell you that I am more sympathetic to your point of view than I have ever been in my whole life, and I'm sorry I have historically been a glib, holier-than-thou asshole about it in ways that may actually have made you MORE resistant to civic participation.

And you're right: it doesn't make that big a difference whether I personally vote or not, or whether you do. But if there are hundreds of us, and I think there are, then each of those people individually do starts to matter.

I guess I would humbly request that you and I both pay attention to what people who need help are actually asking for. I would ask that we both notice who wins when we abdicate this single responsibility. I would remind us both that participating in the electoral process is not some kind of weird either-or with participating in decentralized community building and mutual aid, and the best people we know do both. Isn't it interesting that somehow, insidiously, without even consciously becoming aware of this belief, we have started to think that you can only do one or the other? Who is telling us that story? Who does it serve?

Anyway. I took the stupid 90 minute round trip to my polling place which was VERY hot for some reason and I stood in the stupid line and some babies waved at me and I cast my vote for Kamala Harris and I'm glad I did it in the same way I'm glad after I do the dishes or take a stupid shower. Doing work doesn't always feel like anything. I also saw a really wonderful small black and white dog that I thought was a cat on a leash. I would not have seen that dog if I hadn't gone to vote. So politics can still make you feel good!!!

*I mean all this analysis is cute and everything BUT ALSO i did switch antidepressants twice in the last year, an astonishingly grueling process that almost made me [affect the trout population]. Could these things be related? hmmmmmmm, don't understand the question, won't respond to it.

[quodo-brainrot]

I did an interesting thought exercise with this. Several people in the notes have already pointed out that Odo would have been super OP if he could flawlessly shapeshift into other people like the other Changelings can. (And in the course of the series, we see exactly why it's so OP.)

But! There is one interesting and hilariously simple weakness they could have introduced if they decided that Odo was that good.

Quark is on to something when he starts licking objects to try to figure out if one of them is Odo. You know why? Because Odo doesn't have a sense of smell or taste. I doubt he could replicate something that he can't even sense, so an Odo shot glass would almost certainly taste weird compared to a normal one.

The fact that Quark uses this strategy repeatedly suggests that it has worked at some point, even if we never see it on camera.

I believe that lacking a sense of smell would be surprisingly devastating to any attempts to masquerade as someone else.

Science and speculation under the cut.

As kids, most of us were taught that animals (especially canines) can smell a kajillion billion times better than humans can, but that's a pretty broad statement that has a bit of an 'apples vs. oranges' bent to it.

Humans are actually quite good at smelling the things that are important for us to smell... like each other.

I'm sure you've heard of how blind people are sometimes known to develop a much more keen sense of smell to compensate. Some become capable of identifying people based on scent alone.

Well, it turns out that we don't actually need to go blind to be really good at smelling each other, it's just that a lot of our scent processing is done subconsciously.

With all that in mind, I'm now envisioning a hilarious episode where Odo tries to mimic Rom and Quark just fucking instantly shuts him down because not only has Odo failed to mimic Rom's specific scent, but Quark can also hear that his heartbeat and breathing patterns aren't anywhere near accurate.

Figuring that maybe Ferengi are just an edge case due to their natural hypervigilance, Odo tries to mimic a human and finds that even the humans are suddenly suspicious of him - even if most of them can't put their finger on why.

To the humans, it's very much a classic example of being in the presence of an 'Alternate' - there's something uncanny about this person, but the explanation for why is juuust out of conscious reach.

I think it would be especially funny if humans and maybe Bajorans are the only races who can't really articulate why they feel suspicious. Almost every other race just immediately nails it with 'he doesn't smell right.' I feel like Cardassians would be especially good at it.

Even with this weakness, the storylines with the other Changelings mimicking people wouldn't necessarily need to be altered or removed. You could just write that they isolated themselves enough to avoid too much suspicion, or they simply used their authority to quickly shut down anyone who doubted them.

But poor Odo is absolutely no match for DS9's found family - they all know each other too well, to such a degree that the Station-Wide Polycule is a widely accepted headcanon. They're all so accustomed to the thick fog of pheromones hanging over Ops that they're going to immediately be suspicious when Bashir shows up smelling mostly of nothing (but also faintly of Quark for some weird reason).

Absolutely transcendent move from Star Trek to write a shapeshifter character who's kind of bad at it. You're like, "oh so he can impersonate other characters?" and they're like no he's not very good at faces :(

[magniloquent-raven]

"Oh, good, you are alive." Eddie says as soon as Tommy opens his front door. He pushes his way into the house without waiting for a response, and leaves Tommy blinking at empty space.

"...Sure, come on in," he mutters.

"Would it kill you to answer your phone some time?" Eddie's standing in the living room, hands on his hips, looking at Tommy like he's expecting something.

And Tommy's still lingering in his own doorway, suddenly very aware of how ripe his PJs have gotten. "It's my day off." It's a lame excuse and he knows it. He turns away to shut the door so he won't have to look Eddie in the eye.

"It's been, like, three weeks, man."

Tommy sighs quietly. "Yeah, look, it's just..."

"Is this the part where you tell me you both love me equally and it isn't my fault mommy and daddy are getting divorced." He's being flippant, but there's anger there. Tension in his voice. Tommy's not sure if it's on his own behalf or Evan's. Either would be fair, probably.

No. No, it isn't. It's not fair. He doesn't get to storm in here and judge Tommy's life choices. It's not like he's happy with himself about this, he didn't want to break things off. It just. Didn't work out.

"We don't, Eddie."

"What?"

Tommy folds his arms across his chest. "Love you equally. He needs you more than I do."

"What happened to me being allowed to have more than one friend?"

You know what happened, Tommy wants to snap, wants to be the kind of person who gets so angry he breaks, bleeds the tension out. He wants to untangle the knot that's been tightening in his chest for weeks.

Instead he hunches his shoulders. "Nothing, you have plenty of friends. A whole station of them." Tommy bites the inside of his lip so hard he tastes iron, and his eyes fall shut for a moment while he collects himself. "I was trying to make things easier for you."

Eddie narrows his eyes. "Yeah, nothing easier than getting ghosted. In fact, I love it when people I care about suddenly stop talking to me."

"You know what I meant. You have to take his side."

"Oh, I am. Breaking up with him like that was stupid, and he's really hurt."

Tommy barely contains his wince.

"But you were my friend before you were his boyfriend." Eddie's expression shifts, not quite softening. "I'm not here to defend Buck's honour, I'm here because my friend isn't making good choices and I'm worried about him."

He cried that night three weeks ago. Held off until he'd made it home and then bawled like a child, curled up in the dark and not bothering to wipe the snot from his nose. He hasn't cried since. Not when he found one of Evan's sweaters shoved between the cushions on his couch. Not when a date night reminder he forgot to delete from his phone dinged three days ago. Every time he wakes up to nothing but empty lock-screen he feels a little more hollow thinking about all the texts he used to get in the middle of the night.

But he hasn't been crying about it. Until now.

He's not sure what it is exactly. Something about Eddie refusing to let Tommy stonewall him. Something about all the things he's gone through alone never mattering to anyone. Not enough to warrant more than courtesy comfort.

"Woah, hey, was it something I said?"

Tommy shakes his head, and wipes his cheek with the heel of his hand. "It's been a weird few weeks."

It has, is the thing. He used to be good at being alone. But six months of borrowed time was enough for him to be in a lot deeper than he thought. He doesn't just miss Evan he misses being invited to his family dinners, and hearing about life with the 118.

"How 'bout I drink your beer while you tell me about it."

"...Okay."

[wonderjanga]

Marvel’s Mind

When J’onn first met Captain Marvel, the man distinctly reminded him of the sun. They’d met a battle against some extremely tough aliens. Soon, after the Justice League was formed with the both of them being founding members. The Captain was an eccentric yet wise person, always willing to lend a helping hand to others. Safe to say, J’onn had a favorable impression of the man.

So, this happened early during the days of the Justice League, when J’onn was still getting used to the fact humans like their privacy. It was an accident, he swears. It’s just that Marvel thinks really intensely.

Marvel and Martian Manhunter(MM): *meeting for the first time*

Marvel: *shakes hand with J’onn with a big smile*”Its nice to meet you Mr. Martian Manhunter.”

MM: *about to speak but is then flashbanged by the memory of Marvel meeting another Martian*

Marvel: *is called over by another hero* “It was nice meeting you, Mister!” *flies over to talk to said hero*

So yeah, that was their first interaction. Then there was the second something like this happened.

Marvel: *making a sandwich, spreading peanut butter on one of the slices with a butter knife*

MM: *floats by eating Oreos and is flashbanged by the memory of someone being tortured*

Yeah… Billy hasn’t realized J’onn has seen these memories. They aren’t even his memories. The previous champions really went through it. He feels bad for them. As for J’onn? He’s wondering if the sunny Cap is doing alright.

MM: “Captain?”

Marvel: “Yeah?”

MM: “Are you perhaps doing alright?” *saw another traumatic memory*

Marvel: “Of course? What would make you think I’m not?”

MM: “Well, every now and then I’ll see a rather disturbing memory from your mind. The other week I saw something rather grotesque when you and Aquaman were assigned to work together on a mission.”

Marvel: “Wait, you’re seeing…? Huh. Well, don’t worry about it, J’onn! It’s all in the past.”

MM: “Are you sure? Memories like that, I don’t believe you can just bury them.”

Marvel: “I’m not burying them. Not exactly. Look, I was just a different person back then. I’m better now. Promise.” *bright ahh smile*

J’onn is just happy Cap didn’t seem angry at him for looking at his memories.

So in summary, the two’s early interactions were basically Martian Manhunter seeing either a super traumatic memory or a super weird one, and on account of ‘I ain’t a snitch’ he won’t be snitch.

There was also the one time, MM and the JL went into Marvel’s mind and were met with the weirdest mind bending adventure. Half his memories don’t make sense for gods sake. At one point went he was twelve, he was a slave in a foreign kingdom and then at another point he was royalty? He’s been both a general and a bandit? How many lives has he lived??? Why do all of them start up from when he’s a child? Isn’t he supposed to be a demigod? There’s also like six different people yelling at them to get banned so there’s that too?

[kitzenvoncatzen]

It was very obviously not meant to be a shrine. It just happened to be mostly symmetrical and with an offering of one Chicken Strip Combo Meal from the chicken place.

I should describe the actual requirements for the shrine that I made.

It needs 2 crystals, one on either side of the offering, and a collection of glass pillars behind the offering, and a bunch of other tiny less important things that I happened to have a bunch of. Like bottle caps and wrappers that just happened to fit the requirements.

I was sitting down at my computer with a good meal I just bought with my own money and I was about to watch the newest episode of the stupid game show.

The rest of my floor isn't actually better than the table that only had room for the "offering".

The "crystals" were literally just rocks that I thought looked cool and stole them because I like having rocks for some reason. They apparently have crystals inside of them. Both of them. The glass pillars are empty soda bottles. (I like glass bottled soda a lot more.)

There are other gods that might answer to their own offering rituals, but this one was the only one that would actually answer to a Chicken Strip Combo Meal. The rest want much more to actually be contacted.

I'm a full 5 minutes into the show before I actually reach for my food. Which is gone.

I look around and immediately find some guy in full bright face paint and cool jagged symbols in my room, standing behind me, watching the show with me.

My first instinct is to punch him in the face. (I definitely would have recognized any of the other gods.)

It feels like hitting a rock wall.

"So I assume this wasn't intentional. About what I expected, actually." He speaks, the voice doesn't really match the figure standing before me.

"WHAT??" I shout. I look at my hand. Punching was actually a horrible idea because of the small scrape on my finger that got slightly more scraped.

"I can explain more later but right now I need your help. There are some things only mortals can do." He grabs my arm, and light surrounds us. A similar thing happens when other gods return to wherever they come from, but I was experiencing it from inside, in person, and it was slightly different. I couldn't tell if that's just how it is when you're inside it, or if the shade of the light was actually slightly different to the videos I've seen, but it seemed a bit weird compared to them.

"WHAT? WHERE ARE WE?" I shout again. He immediately covers my mouth with his equally cold, stony hands. (Which isn't actually as good at muffling speech as flesh is. I think. I can't bite through it like flesh though.)

"Gods fight all the time, but only mortals can actually kill gods." He whispers. The trees around us are completely still, and even the strong wind does not move a single leaf on them. They all appear to be made of some kind of stone, like he was.

"What does this have to do with me?" I whisper, still muffled by the hand. I had already accepted my most likely fate, death, which is usually the fate of people who get this involved with the gods without any good preparation. "No, wait, you're not saying..."

"I need you to kill a god."

[ Yeah

I did another one.

It's been a while. ]

{Check out my other things at this site please I need feedback.}

You are a person who covers your counter space in clutter and inadvertently makes a shrine to a long forgotten god who shows up to thank you.

[7squidgy7]

✧.*100 follower celebration type thing*.✧

So, to celebrate 100 followers on tumblr, I decided to draw some fanart for people. This community is so sweet. Every one of these artists has inspired me in some way.

I'm really sorry for those I haven't made art for. I may make a part 2 one day for those I missed. Who knows.

This was a really nice way to try out different art styles while mixing them with my own.

Apologies for all the link later on. Want to explain the creative process a bit for those interested cause I put way too much effort into it to not mention.

Close ups below cut:

@donutfloats

Your arts so cute and soft, I love it. You have a great way of just expressing love through your art.

I was inspired by 2 of your pieces for this, the main one being the 3rd image for this post. The lambs dress is so pretty, I just knew I wanted to draw it flowy and dancing, and the second image I used is this post for the rendering style.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@aniimoni

I really like your artstyle. The monochrome colours are delightful, as with the way you do lineart. while making this, I was thinking this is the perfect style to meld with mine.

I was inspired a lot by the axe and hammer drawings in this post. As a hammer lover, I decided to combine the 2 together.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@teruuu

Something about your style is mischevios. Your rendering and lineart are just wonderful as well. You have a very distinctive style that matches mine quite well, i think.

I feel compulsion of the flesh Lamb and Narinder would give each other kisses on the hand but take a bite at the same time. They freaky like that. Based my rendering around this post and the previous draw you character here, I did. These are fun designs to draw.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@poopylumpkins

I really like your vampire au something about it really spoke to me as a afab non-binary.

Lamb deserves to wear their own clothes and something about narinder helping with their makeup convinces me he'll help out.

if you're curious, i colour picked the background and shading from this post

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@olrinarts

This was a really fun style to draw. Something about how you draw these 2 is delightful. Love yuri narinder's eyes in particular.

Rock god yuri. What more can I say these are really good designs. Showed them to my friend, and they loved them.

Decided to have them dueting, while Narinder can't sing lamb can always pick up that role.

Used this post for the background and shading colours, and this is a kinda basis for the pose.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@redcrowncafe

Really love you fic and art. I like to see the fic brought to reality through all the comics and art, which has a very pleasing look to the eye.

I have never struggled so much with an art style, fun challenge, but very different to my own.

Wanted to draw their Halloween costumes from this post. Lambert would definitely get too into the vampire costume and bite Nari at some point probably.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

@joffyworld

Just wanna say thank you so much for the reblogs and kind words. It gives me a lot of confidence in my work and is a genuine brightness in my day.

I wasn't sure what to draw you, so I thought I'd just show you a pic of my new one who waits figurine, that arrived recently. Its a little weird, I think an earlier design but cool none the less.

✧.*-----------------------------------------------------------------------*.✧

[vaguely-concerned]

having seen at least the rough outlines of all the romances now I have to say that I think emmrich's is probably objectively the best in terms of coherence and completeness of story arc (with the understanding that ultimately the 'best' romance is whichever one makes YOUR heart sing anyway so objectivity is a silly thing to claim that way, it just felt like it's the arc with the most well-paced focused content and the least dangling threads)... but lucanis' is my favourite haha. just. the whole kneeling before your beloved full of reverence but without any of the distance that usually implies??? his complete undramatic certainty and calm in every scene with rook after this, having spent the whole game caught between fear and longing???? mr. lives in a pantry but it says nothing about my psyche don't worry about it it's purely for tactical reasons that I keep myself contained in a small dark room not entirely unlike a cell, love among the parsnips -- finally coming to rook in their room and it's so comfortable and comforting???? after all the times rook supports and comforts him through the game he's finally able to return the same to them when they need it while being so calm and steady and it's so fucking sweet and feels so effortless and with no price attached?????? he basically assigns himself the role of your bodyguard and he WILL stab a god over it??????????????? the turn to protector (which was in his heart all along longing to get out and find a place) of it all????? he sounds like he's found himself unexpectedly stumbling into such a soul-lightening state of revelatory existential relief, full on 'you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves' mary oliver style, and he goes and he shares that with rook and protectively envelops them in it when they're hurting??????????????????????????? hello for the maker's sake hello can anyone hear me?????

[yanmuffins]

the way I screamed when you said you were going to write a fanfic about Phineas and Ferb reader-

giggling, kicking my feet, twirling my hair, squealing like a highschooler who just got their first crush-

aniway, more about the reader and Damian! think about the crazy adventures that the reader would drag Damian into, they way he would keep insisting that it was just so he could collect enough evidence about the crazy things reader did so he could get them busted, but deep down, they both know he was having just as much fun as reader was while blowing shit up, going into the space to steal back the moon, going into the past to see real life dinosaurs and etc

and when Batfam finds out everything, he can't deny that he misses when it was just the two of them and a new gadget Reader created to entertain them all day long

sad, sad ending... AND THEN THE SECRET OF THE PLATYPUS IS REVEALED

even the reader is shocked, but they are supportive and understanding immediately

In the corner, Batman is about to faint because seriously, how many more secrets will this family discover in the space of a week? First the only child he thought was normal in this crazy ass vigilante family turns out to be an engineering genius bordering on Bob the Builder crime lord version, and then he discovers that he has given that same child permission to build insane shit in his backyard and now, the goddamn platypus is an goverment agent and is an active member of the JL, and also, CLARK KNEW!

dear lord, i have a lot of free time (also, same anon from the previous ask, hi!)

context &. context.

hi, anon! ヾ(>ω<○)

damian and phineas! reader's relationship has so much potential!

tbh as upset as he initially is no longer being the only blood child, i don't think he would straight up bully reader. rather, he brushes them off after deciding they are, indeed, just an unworthy illegitimate child with no remarkable skills (stellar perfomance at school doesn't count. neither do all those medals, trophies and awards they won in science fairs and international competitions that they proudly display in their bedroom). he limits himself to passive-aggressive quips that go over reader's head, scowling, unwillingness to engage and be friendly.

they're not a threat to him – his position in the family is unperturbed, he still gets undivided attention from father and his other siblings while they apparently couldn't care less about the newest addition to the waynes.

until reader's first summer vacation in gotham rolls in. one day they're back at their old neighborhood in metropolis helping their friend sell lemonade and the other they're creating something called s'winter in bruce wayne's backyard. it's preposterous, dangerou, reckless, and he needs to tell his father. but then it disappears, it keeps disappearing, the family keeps missing those insane gadgets that are so obvious and he can barely stand it!

that's when he becomes glued at the hip with their sibling: the goal is to expose them to the rest of the family, obviously. he's dedicated to busting reader's summer fun at first, he still very much dislikes his sibling, the deluxe treehouse they built him is totally not cool at all, but... well. maybe they're not so bad. he won't admit it out loud, but it's impressive that they can come up with so many creative schemes and bring them to life in a day. and he's got some cool memories out of it too.

so when reader is busted, it feels... weird. now he has to share their attention with everyone else (as if sharing it with jon and your stupid friends wasn't bad enough), and the family wants to keep them cooped up at home when there's plenty of mischief the two of them could be getting up to outside!

also, yup yup yup!! this is a visual representation of bruce finding out everything, from reader to platypus. i think clark knowing everything might make him want to just go bluescreen mode.

[sleepymirko]

Bluelock boys reaction to s/o liking winter but (ironically) being very chilly (part 1)

..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..

Featuring Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi

Fluff, nothing weird here except Kaiser being slightly suggestive

Let me know if there's errors! Enjoy!

..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..

You and Kaiser have been together for quite a while so it was obvious that he knew about it.

But he just couldn’t help being fascinated every time you got chilly, even in the mildest weather.

"It's not funny" you said narrowing your eyes at Kaiser, who had a shit eating grin on his face.

"It isn't?" He said cocking an eyebrow. "You're wrapped up with two wool blankets and on top of that a duvet. You look like a burrito." He said as he sat closer to you, the sofa feeling strangely smaller now that Michael was awfully close.

"I can't control my body temperature and if I could I wouldn't be in such a state, don't you think?" You said rolling your eyes but smiling faintly, knowing that he was just teasing you.

“Maybe we can change that...” he murmured, locking eyes with you. His grin widened as he saw the flush on your cheeks. “Looks like someone is in the mood,” the cocky soccer player said, lifting you effortlessly.

“Wait, I didn’t say anything...!” you protested, struggling against him, but the blankets wrapped around you acted as an unintentional shield, much to his advantage. The irony.

“Silence is consent, Meine Liebe." he said with a mischievous smirk.

..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..

It was snowing outside. The snowflakes were slowly falling, covering everything in white. Rin swore he never experienced a colder winter than this, and as a soccer player, it spoke volumes.

When you first met, he discovered how much you loved the season, and as time passed, he found himself loving it more than he had anticipated. He knew how easily you got chilly during this time of year, and, deep down, he liked it.

It was a good excuse for him to gatekeep you in the Itoshi household. Call him possessive, but he just couldn't help it.

The only footsteps heard in the house were his, going up and down the kitchen to prepare a hot chocolate for the two of you. You guys agreed on a horror film marathon, and choose various titles, with the majority chosen by you.

When he finally finished preparing the mugs, he walked towards your shared bedroom, where he found you already covered up to your ears, looking out of the window from the bed you were sitting on.

"Here" he said, laying on your hands the hot mug.

"You didn't have to.. thank you" you spoke softly, looking at him sitting next to you, the remote in his hand, ready for the movie marathon to start. In the first few minutes he noticed you shivering slightly and put your head on his shoulder, taking you by surprise.

Neither of you talked; the silent yet genuine gesture was enough to warm up the both of you, as you sank in a comfortable silence.

..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..•°•..

The storm was in full swing and you were looking at the snow outside, a warm oversized hoodie enveloping your body and a closed book in your hands that kept you occupied just a few moments ago. Sae watched you from across the room, the fire of the fireplace casting shadows over his stoic features. He had just gotten home from practice, and the warmth was enough to remind him that he was where he belonged, even if he would never admit it.

Because the source of it was the same person that was looking at the snow storm with eyes full of wonder.

One would say that he cared only about football and himself, but it wasn't the truth as without a word he walked over, your shivering not going unnoticed as his brows furrowed slightly.

Wordlessly, he draped his own coat over your shoulders, the familiar scent and warmth of him enveloping you. You looked up surprised, meeting his steady gaze.

"You're going to catch a cold even with all these clothes." He simply said, his tone uneven but the glimmer of his eyes betraying him as you spotted a hint of concern in his gaze.

"Thank you.."

"Still cold?"

You looked up surprised and nodded, not able to hide your small smile as Sae sighed.

"Let's go to the fireplace then. If you're still cold even there I'll take you to the hospital." He said, and you rolled your eyes but took his hand as he led you to the couch that was perfectly placed in front of the fireplace.

The heat of the flames warmed your body, but your heart was already warmed by the coldest man you had ever loved.

Let me know if there's some errors! Thank you for reading!

[1d1195]

Made to Be - Extra IV

Read Made to Be here | ~1.8k words

From me: I was just thinking about them (probs because I'm always thinking about school. This take place sometime between January and the second extra (pre-baby stuff). This is just a really quick little thing until I can write something of merit. I believe I'm almost caught up at work. I think I might be able to write something more substantial this week 💕 Thank you for being patient and kind.

Warnings: none, fluffy cute stuff.

Summary: Harry's not the only one who thinks she was made to be a teacher.

May

“I think we should outlaw field trips,” she mumbled sitting beside Harry in the front seat of the bus.

He chuckled. “It will be fun, kitten,” he assured her.

“Fun for you maybe. You got the good group of kids to chaperone.”

“I’ll give y’group a lecture before we split up, angel,” he promised. Harry snagged her hand from her lap and gave it a gentle squeeze. They tried not to be overly affectionate in front of the students because they didn’t want it to be weird...not that it was weird. But it was definitely something in their eyes. “Y’know they only gave y’a tough group because y’can handle it and they love you.”

She sighed. “I know, I know.”

They were dressed comfortably for the history museum trip. Business casual that made Harry think she was modeling for teachers in textbooks. She was so pretty it made his heart skip a beat.

She had been telling Harry how excited she was to go on the trip up until she got the names of the group she was chaperoning. She was especially excited because schools always got great discounts for museums that she generally hated to pay for. But not even the group rate was enough to make her enthusiasm spike. She fiddled nervously with her engagement ring dangling on her necklace. Harry truly outdid himself and wearing the ring on her finger in the city made her nervous so she opted for the necklace so she could tuck it away safely. (But she assured Harry the thought of taking it off made her feel naked.) Until it was tucked away, Harry smiled, self-satisfied as she twisted it on the silver chain. That pretty diamond glittering in the sun coming through the window of the bus made him so happy. The little symbol that they’d be together forever. She was made for him. He was certain.

He almost forgot he was supposed to be comforting her. It was loud behind them. Not excessive, but when forty something students chattered in an enclosed area, it always got a bit loud and also didn’t help his train of thought. “They’ll pull it together for you,” he draped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. The kids would have to deal.

“Aw!” Someone droned. Her cheeks heated briefly but Harry turned in his seat and glared so that the sound was cut off quickly.

“Jus’ show them all y’favorite things,” he shrugged.

“My nightmare is losing a student on a trip,” she sighed. “This is so stressful.”

“They’re not little ones, m’love,” he reminded her. “They can wander a bit and they’ll be okay. S’not like they don’t all go to the mall on their own and whatnot. Plus, I’d never let y’take the fall for losing one of them. We’d find them. M’sure a lot of parents wouldn’t either. But s’not going t’happen.”

She nodded. Then she sighed heavily and squeezed his hand back. “You’re right.”

“Mm, music t’my ears,” he grinned.

“Don’t push it.”

*

But Harry was right. Her group of students who were usually a rough and tumble kind of bunch really got into the trip. At first they were quiet, almost shy. But she acted as if she didn’t notice and told them all about the exhibits they encountered and explained as much as she could. She did her best to connect the displays to their own lives so they would care more.

As such, they walked right along with her and forgot their shyness. They asked intelligent follow up questions after she explained what they were looking at. They followed all her directions and even asked her for more information about the information she told them as they walked through the rooms. She was going to boost their grades when they got back to school with bonus points for being so good and learning at the same time.

The relief was exhilarating.

About part way through the morning, her group of eight needed a bathroom break. She waited outside the bathrooms and checked her phone for any kind of emergency. Harry texted to check in on her, so she answered to let him know how good her group was and how happy she was to be on the trip again.

“School trip?”

She looked up instinctively, the lanyard around her neck was the only thing that marked her as an adult in comparison to her students. Her slightly shorter frame didn’t compare to the boys she taught who often towered over her. She thought she usually looked the part of being a teacher. She felt it was written on her face (or maybe it was the headband with the Treaty of Versailles printed on the fabric and her pencil earrings that gave it away). The man before wasn’t one of her coworkers but he had a lanyard around his neck from a school she hadn’t heard of before.

She nodded. “Oh yeah, drove an hour in,” she cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Same here. About an hour and a half. You’re a history teacher as well?” He asked.

Her students were still in the restroom, so she cleared her throat again and nodded. “Yes, World History.”

“Same here, where are you in the curriculum right now?”

“We just finished up the Industrial Revolution. About to start Imperialism.”

“Fun stuff! You know, one of my students heard you talking about the Enigma exhibit. Said I left out a ton of information that you seemed to know a lot more about.”

She chuckled. “I see, sorry about that,” she smiled politely. “I get a little too into Bletchley Park.”

“Don’t we all.”

“Miss,” one of her students said suddenly appearing from the bathroom with two others. She glanced toward the men’s bathroom but didn’t see any of them just yet. “Can we pop into the giftshop?”

She glanced at her watch. “I think we have time for that, scope it out before everyone else at the end of the day. We have lunch in about an hour.”

“Are you all eating here, in the food court?”

“I think we’re eating outside,” she said. “Nice day and all... I think the boys are coming out now,” she smiled at her student. “Nice meeting you. Enjoy the museum,” she ushered her students toward the men’s room and sighed.

“Was he hitting on you, Miss?” She whispered.

“Shh.”

“Okay, queen,” she giggled. “Are you going to tell Mr. Styles?”

“He wasn’t hitting on me.”

“Miss,” she laughed. “He was so hitting on you.”

“I didn’t—”

“Who was hitting on her?” One of the boys asked.

“No one—”

“That guy.”

“Oooh, he’s cute. Wait until Mr. Styles finds out he has competition.”

“Miss, I think we have to intimidate him,” another one of the boys explained knowingly. “It’s what Mr. Styles would want.”

“Oh, my word,” she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we go to the giftshop?”

*

“Everyone please look in the seat next to you and check if the person you travelled with on the way here is still here! We’re doing a final headcount as soon as we’re all seated.”

“Mr. Styles!” One of her group members sang. She glared at him briefly with her best teacher stare before she sat facing forward in her seat. Harry squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

“Yes? Didn’t y’torture m’fiancée enough today?”

“I would never torture her! But your fiancée got hit on by a guy by the bathroom!” He shouted.

The resounding oohs from the entire bus made her blush. She looked straight forward at the seatback in front of her. “Really?” He smiled and glanced down at the pretty girl beside him.

She shook her head. “He was not flirting.”

“Course he was, Miss! You’re a total catch!” The girl in her group called back.

“She’s right, y’know,” he winked at her knowingly, his voice was low. Maybe only one or two students heard Harry say it and they were kind enough to giggle and not make a scene of it or embarrass her further. “Alright, alright, head count!”

She stayed put while Harry walked up and down the aisle. When he returned to the front, he told the bus driver that everyone was accounted for and they could go on their way.

“Hiding your affair from me?” He winked.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled and grabbed her hand from her lap and brought her fingers to his lips briefly. “S’no surprise, really.”

“It’s probably because my ring was inside my shirt.”

“Lucky ring,” he hummed.

“Harry,” she hissed.

“The man has good taste, kitten,” he shrugged. “M’not surprised at all.”

She sighed. “I wasn’t hiding it from you. I just didn’t want to make you jealous. I don’t want you to think you have anything to be jealous of, you know?”

“I know, I know,” his voice was so kind and soft. The way he sounded when they were falling asleep. It was quiet and warm. If they weren’t in front of forty something students, he probably would have held her cheek and kissed her the way he did every night. Would have traced her features and told her how much he loved her. “You’re jus’ so pretty, so nice, so lovely that anyone with half a brain cell can see it from across the room,” he assured her. Her relief was massive. The idea of hurting Harry’s feelings or betraying his trust was one of her worst fears. She pulled the necklace from its spot and twisted it again and Harry’s smile grew. “God,” he shook his head. Then he squeezed her hand three quick times. She squeezed it back four times in succession. Both knew what it meant. A not quite secret that they loved each other.

She was always grateful for Harry coming into her life. The day she left her old school and got her new job was so scary and sad. In hindsight, she would have told herself in her first year of teaching that a new school was in her future, and she was going to meet a man that was everything she wanted and more.

Someone who was made for her.

“What?” He smirked. The sun was setting and bathing the bus in a soft golden light that only highlighted how handsome Harry was.

“Just thinking about how jealous I would be if a girl flirted with you on a field trip. You have way more kindness than I do.”

“Oh, don’t worry, kitten,” he mumbled and brought his mouth to her ear. “M’going t’show you how crazy the thought of another guy chatting y’up makes me later. Remind you that y’don’t need anyone else. Ever,” he promised and pressed a chaste kiss that did not match the intensity of his words.

Her cheeks warmed once more but she smiled. Shaking her head she squeezed his hand three more times.

--

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[daydreams-after-dark]

This is a weird one but you asked for weird lmao

Werewolf Chan (or anyone) where he turns while inside of you?

I feel like if it’s going to be a werewolf it has to be Chan, right?

This one actually flowed out of me, which hasn’t happened in a while. No overthinking with this one. Just pure, unhinged filth!!!

MDNI // MDNI // MDNI

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Cw: bf werewolf chan, size kink, bulge kink, very rough unprotected p in v sex, so much cum, cream pie, bleeding, biting, scratching, aftercare (he tries, it’s endearing)

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You knew Channie was a werewolf for a while now. You’d seen him change form often. He’d go from cute, lovable boyfriend to wild and primitive wolf.

Usually when he’d turn, he’d have a plan in place. You had to shackle him to the bed so he couldn’t escape. Then you’d keep your distance, save for checking up on him to ensure he hadn’t broken free.

He was truly scary when he turned. From the pained look on his face as he transformed, to the animalistic growl that resounded through your house that had your heart racing. The claws that would grow that looked like they could rip you to shreds.

Then there was his cock. It would go from thick, delicious and veiny to horrifyingly enormous, heinous and brutal looking. It would still be veiny, only the veins were a lot more prominent, and the thickness made it look so so ugly so hideous. It looked like it could tear your cunt to pieces. And it made your mouth water.

This was when you realized you might be sick. Because sometimes you’d fantasize about what it might be like to be impaled on his huge werewolf cock.

You’d think about it rearranging your insides, fucking you so good. You wondered if it’d hurt, and loved the idea that it probably would. And the cum? Fuck, how much cum would there be bursting out of the purple, angry tip?

You thought about what it might be like for him too. How tight your tiny, little human pussy would feel around his cock. How long would he last? Would you hurt him because you’d be so tight for him? Would it be a struggle to stuff it inside you? Would it fit at all?

>>>>

The time has come again for you to restrain him to the bed, and you go about it as per usual, helping him undress (because he’d ruin his clothes otherwise). But you can’t get the image of his werewolf cock out of your head.

He lays naked on the mattress for you while you handcuff his wrists to the bed frame. You do the same with his ankles to the frame at the foot of the bed, and you lean over and kiss his mouth, one last kiss before he turns. He kisses you back, warm and passionately, then you pull away.

But instead of getting up to leave, you straddle him, and the more you think about your boyfriend turning, the wetter you become.

“Babygirl, what are you doing? You have to go!” He says worriedly with a confused expression.

But all you do is grind against him and whimper. He moans beneath you, and you feel him rapidly growing hard, and you lean down and kiss him again whilst continuing to seek friction against your clothed core.

“Fuck! Please… you can’t… you have to… fuck you’re making me so horny, babygirl.”

It makes you smirk against his lips. “Channie, I’m so wet right now. Wanna feel me?” You purr.

He shakes his head “You have to go! Please, it’s not safe.” He whispers desperately.

But you don’t care about your safety. You sit up and remove your top, leaving you exposed from the waist up. Chan whines and tries to grind up against you.

Your little panties have quickly turned translucent from how wet you’ve become as you drag your pussy over the length of his cock.

You can tell Chan’s resisting, the way he’s squeezing his eyes closed and turning his head away.

“I want you inside me, Channie. Don’t ya wanna feel me before you turn?” You sigh.

“God! Fuck! Yes!” He cries. “B-but—“

But you pull your panties to the side and sink down over his length. He’s already throbbing and hard, so very hard. It’s a stretch already, and he’s still human.

“S’deep, Channie.” You choke, resting your hands on his chest to find purchase.

“Yeah, babygirl? You like it when Channie fucks you good, even when he’s tied up.” He grunts as he thrusts his hips up into you hard, like he’s forgotten he’s trying to get you to leave.

“Fuck yes, feels so good.” Your eyes roll back into your head when he hits that spot.

“So horny, so needy for my cock… even when you know it’s dangerous, hmm?” He bites his bottom lip.

“Yes.” You roll your hips slowly. “So fucking horny. For your werewolf cock.”

You see him start to turn. The thrashing of the head against the pillow, the change in his eyes, the clawed hands in their restraints.

His body thrashes about too, and you are flung forward onto his chest. You have to hang on to his shoulders for dear life or you’d be thrown across the room.

A flicker of fear washes over you and you wonder if you’ll survive this.

A loud, feral growl fills the room, and then you feel it - his cock rapidly expanding inside you, stretching you obscenely wide and lifting you off his hips because it’s too long. The hideous veins feeling like hard ridges against your walls. Your cunt is stretched taut around him.

“F-fuck!” You wail, as with every thrash of his body causes the tip to ram into your cervix.

You look up just in time to see the handcuffs rip from the bed frame, his legs freeing only moments after.

It all happens so fast. His clawed hands grip your ass cheeks, digging into the fresh and piercing the skin, drawing blood. He spreads your ass and then violently slams you down further onto his cock.

The air is jolted from your lungs as he flips you so you’re on your back and he’s on top of you, caging you in. He pins you down and pushes your legs wide and plunges into you brutally.

“Too deep, too much!” You cry out and peer down to see a bulge in your lower belly. You come just from the sight of what he’s doing to you and your body shudders underneath him.

He notices when your orgasm hits, and he growls in approval before doubling down and fucking you harder.

He pulls out suddenly, and the emptiness is almost to much to bare, your cunt settles down to it’s usual state, but you are still too empty.

You need your werewolf Channie to fuck you within an inch of your life.

He flips you back over, like a ragdoll, forcing your face into the pillow, and lifting your hips to meet the tip of his cock.

He’s back inside you, chasing his own orgasm, leaning over your back and biting at your shoulder. You’re bleeding there now too.

You scrunch your eyes up tight and fist the sheets in your hand. How much more can your body take? Yet you don’t want it to end. Your mouth hangs open and drool is pooling on your pillow.

It feels like he’s fucking you for hours before he loses all control, lifting you so your back is flush to his chest.

He bounces you on his length while he gropes a breast. His other hand finds your clit. Just like your Channie to bring you to the precipice one more time before he cums. You practically scream the house down as your entire body shakes and tremors and tears stream down your cheeks.

With a loud, animalistic growl, he fills you to the brim. There’s so much cum you think it’s going to burst your insides open, and when he pulls out it gushes out of your gaping cunt.

You collapse on the bed, panting, sweating, dribbling, leaking and bleeding. But werewolf Chan has calmed down and he starts to lick your wounds, calming and soothing them.

You catch him eyes and he looks worried. He thinks he’s hurt you. Bravely, you reach out and stroke his furry muzzle.

“It’s okay, Channie. Felt so good.” You smile wearily. You’re exhausted. Too exhausted to go clean yourself up, so you just curl up where you are, avoiding all the wet patches.

Channie curls up behind you, snuggling in and wagging his tail.

>>>>

You found that werewolf Chan was rather calm after fucking you like that, and you learned that given the chance to get all that pent up wild energy out of him, he would just curl up with while you watched tv, or while you worked on your laptop.

So from then on, everytime Chan would turn into a werewolf, you’d have sex and just hang out at home.

You didn’t need your restrain him anymore (except for when you wanted to of course).

>>>>

A/n: if you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment and reblogging 😘

And… feel free to send an ask, my ask box is open for hard thoughts.

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