#i’ve probably done a really bad job of answering this

[fingertipsmp3]

Sometimes you’ve just gotta get a migraine in order to have an epiphany

[alotofpockets]

The car chronicles | Leah Williamson

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Reader

Request: Leah and rich reader where reader gift her a Rolls Royce because Leah just keeps grabbing hers and sometimes annoys reader so bad like reader need to go out urgently and her car is out of sight.

Woso masterlist | Words: 900

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Leah had left the house early this morning, she had a photoshoot to get to on the other side of London. You on the other hand had worked from home in the morning, needing to be at an out of office meeting later in the morning. 

You were the CEO of your own finance company, a business that you had built from the ground up, and was now one of the biggest finance firms in the country. It was safe to say you were doing quite well for yourself. You owned a small manor in the outskirts of London, giving you and your girlfriend a home away from all of the busybess you faced with your jobs in the city.  

When you were done preparing for your meeting, you packed everything you needed and headed to the garage. You open the garage door, only to find your Rolls Royce missing, “Fucking Leah.” You say under your breath as you make your way back into your home. Leah had taken a liking in taking your car whenever she pleased, while she had a car of her own in the garage she just seemed to like yours more. 

Leah: 😘

You take her car keys from their spot in the hallway, and make your way back to the garage, taking a moment to send her a quick text.

Y/n: Enjoying my car?

After rolling your eyes you pocket your phone, and drive off in Leah’s car. It had been happening more and more lately that your girlfriend would take your car without asking you, and it was getting kind of annoying by now. It wasn’t that you minded her taking it, just that her car definitely didn’t drive as nice as yours. 

You loved cars, and often had a new car in your garage. Though you were a big believer in not needing more than one car per person, so you always donated the old car to a family in need of a car, taking care of the insurance and first year of gas. 

This sparked an idea, so after your meeting you drove to one of your favourite car dealerships and made it happen. Leah would be home first, so you had some time to set your plan into motion. You knew you should probably not give in to her behaviour, but this would be a win-win situation, so would it really matter?

You drove home in Leah’s car, while one of the dealership employees followed you out with a new Rolls Royce on the back of a truck. After he unloaded the car in the driveway, you give him a generous tip for the help, before you head inside. 

Leah was sitting on the couch with her headphones on, so she hadn’t even heard the car getting unloaded, you thanked Dyson for their noise cancelling headphones for that one. Once you make it into her peripheral vision, she takes her headphones off, “Hi baby, how was work?” She smiles innocently, like she doesn’t know damn well that you would ask her about the car again. “Work was fine, getting there was less comfortable. Care to explain?” You tried to look stern, but how could you not break when she was looking at you with pleading eyes. So, instead of making her answer, you hold out your hand for her to take. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

Leah was confused why you were leading her outside, but then she saw an all black version of your car in the driveway, “Wow, it's beautiful.” She walks towards it to admire it. “Why did you get a new one? I thought you liked the one you have.” You smile, realising she has no idea. “I do like it, but it seems like someone else likes it too, since it keeps not being in the garage when I need it. I thought I would get you your own, so you will stop stealing mine.” Leah’s head shoots up, “Come again.”

You hold up and dangle the car keys in the air, “It’s yours.” Leah walks up to you with confusion ridden all over her face. “You’re saying that after I’ve been stealing your car, you are now giving me my own?” You nod your head, “Do you want it or not? Cause I can just give it to someone else if you don’t want it.” You tease. “Yes, yes I want it.” She hugs you, “Thank you so much, but you know you didn’t have to do this right?” You hug her back. “I know.”

Before she takes the keys from your hands, you tell her. “One condition, we’re donating your old one.” She nods eagerly, wanting nothing more than to take the new car for a test drive. “Of course, we don’t need more cars than people, I listen.” You chuckle and hand her the keys.

Leah loved the way the car drove, after driving it around for half an hour. You were just happy that she was happy, and the smile on her face was enough for you to know that this had been a good move.

She was very grateful for your gift, and thanked you profusely over the next couple of days, in more ways than just with words. She was loving the car, and from that point on your car was in the garage every time you needed it.

-----

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[awritessomething]

Don’t know if you take requests but I really want a fic with Pierre where y/n is a presenter for Sky Sports or something and they start having an affair. Maybe they sleep together after his podium when his gf isn’t in the paddock and then it starts to become and regular occurrence

𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐬 | pierre gasly x fem!reader

requests

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Pierre’s girlfriend manages to not be in the paddock for his podium. Someone else steps in to do what she should’ve done.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut, cheating, swearing, protected sex, straight to the point, dom!pierre, sub!reader, doggystyle, slight degrading, missionary, oral m!receiving, hair pulling, no aftercare.

also yes I do take requests ty for leaving one 🫶

After a long and treacherous race in Zandvoort, Pierre managed to snag third place by 3 seconds. The Alpine team was going insane over his podium as it was the second Alpine podium of the season. He got out of the car as soon as he was free to do so and ran over to his team who were all there to congratulate him.

There wasnt much time between the moment he got out of his car and before the interview that he was about to have to do. There was a younger woman with Sky Sports who was there to work with him. Walking up to him with a smile on her face, she motioned for her cameraman to follow. Pierre turned to her and walked forwards to meet her halfway.

“Good afternoon, Pierre. It was a good race, right?” She asked with a smile. His eyes swept over her quickly, so quickly that it probably wasn’t even all that noticeable to anyone except for her.

“Yes, I mean third is always a good way to end so uh… I’m happy.” Pierre answered with a quick nod. Her eyes narrowed on him for a moment.

“That’s great. Can you tell us a bit about what you had to do?”

“Yeah.” Pierre licked his lips before telling her a bit about what had happened during the race and what he was thinking. She tilted her head slightly as she listened to him talking. Pierre stuttered for a second as he saw how she looked at him.

“Thank you. Congratulations by the way.” They finished up the interview. She glanced back at her cameraman to confirm that they weren’t filming anymore. He nodded and started to walk a bit away to give her some space.

“Did you like the race?” Pierre asked a bit more boldly now that the cameras were away.

“I did. You’re an impressive driver.” She whispered and swayed slightly.

“Thank you.” Pierre kept his voice quiet as well. They both had the same kind of idea as to what they might be doing.

“Of course. So, are you sticking around in Zandvoort for a while longer?”

“Ah, not too much longer. My girlfriend is waiting for me at home I believe.” Her brows raised, feigning surprise. She acted as if she didn’t know that Kika wasn’t there.

“She’s not here tonight?” She tried her best to sound shocked to try and fool Pierre into thinking that she didn’t arrive with these intentions.

“She is not.” He fell for what she was doing for just a moment but then he put it together.

“Too bad.” She tsked softly. “You know, if I was her, I wouldn’t miss a single race. I would want to be there for everything.” She said, shrugging. Pierre raised his brow and smirked.

“Would you be able to?” Pierre was a bit intrigued by this idea. She was a bit surprised that he was actually going along with what she was saying, but she surely wouldn’t be complaining.

“My job is to follow the races. I’m at almost all of them. It would be no problem.” She smiled up at him, a look in his eyes that he could recognize in pretty much any woman. He cleared his throat as someone called his name to go and do his other post-race duties.

“I’ve got to go.” Pierre turned to leave.

“Wait.” She called out. He turned to see her. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her card. “If you think of anything else that i might want to hear about… call me.” She handed it to him. He glanced down at it and then back at her.

“I will. See you.” Pierre held onto the card and then walked away. She watched him go before running off to go and do other interviews with other drivers.

Later that night, around nine at night or so, she was laying in her bed at her hotel. She was on her phone, just scrolling through her phone and occasionally texting a friend or two. There was a call that showed up on her screen from an unknown number. She picked up the phone and put it up to her ear.

“Hello?” She asked, a bit confused as to who would have her number.

“Room 321. Be there in five minutes.” Pierre spoke into the phone. She recognized his voice.

“Ill be there.” That was all she said and then hung up the phone. Everyone with Formula 1 was staying in one hotel. Every team, every media person, they were all in that hotel. Most of the drivers were out partying, but apparently Pierre wasn’t.

She got out of bed, slipped on her shoes and a jacket, and then walked out of her room. She put her hood over her head to hide her face and made her way to room 321. Five minutes later, she was there. Before she could even knock on the door, it was opening and she was being pulled inside.

“Anyone see you?” Pierre asked as he locked the door. She shook her head.

“No. No one.” She breathed out and looked up at Pierre with wide eyes.

“Good.” He muttered and then leaned forwards and kissed her. His stubble was rough against her face but she welcomed the sting. Her hands flew to his hair as he shoved her against the door, already reaching for the bottom of her shirt. “Jump.” He grumbled against her lips and tapped on her thighs. She did as he said and he caught her, holding her by her thighs. Her head fell back as he kissed her neck before tugging off her shirt and unclasping her bra.

“Pierre…” She moaned his name as he nibbled on the sensitive parts of her neck. Her back arched off of the door, chest pressing against his.

“Mhm..?” He hummed, not even pulling away from her for a moment as his lips moved to her breasts, taking one of her nipples into his mouth. She whined and her head fell to the side.

“Condom?”

“In my wallet. I’ll get it in a minute.” He sighed and then took her off of the door and carried her over to his bed. She laid on the bed and tugged off her pants and panties, watching as he took off his own shirt while getting the condom from his wallet.

“You were ready for this?” She teased him lightly. Pierre scoffed.

“You never know.” He smiled and went to take off his belt. She shook her head and moved forwards so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hands went to his belt and she removed it for him, throwing it aside as she pushed down his pants. He stepped out of them, along with his boxers. His breath hitched as he watched her take the condom from his hands and then set it aside.

“Think you can wait for a minute?” She asked, looking up at him. Pierre shrugged. One of her hands went to his cock, stroking him a few times experimentally. His head fell back as he groaned.

He stood in front of her, hands resting on the back of her head as she took him into her mouth. Her eyes met his as she swirled her tongue around his tip before beginning to suck him off. His brows knit together as he closed his eyes. Pierre hadn’t had another woman touch him ever since he started dating his girlfriend. He forgot how good foreign touch could feel.

His hips thrusted towards her mouth and she closed her eyes as tears pricked at the corners of them. He held her head still as he began to fuck her mouth, head falling back as he did. She listened to the sounds that came from the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat repeatedly. Her nose pressed against his abdomen as he pushed her head down as far as it could go.

With just a few more quick thrusts into her mouth, his cum spurted down her throat. She had her hands holding onto his thighs to stabilize herself as she swallowed around his cock, making him grunt from the odd sensation. Pierre pulled out of her mouth and looked down at her as she coughed.

“You swallow?” Pierre gripped her jaw and made her open her mouth. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. “That’s what I thought.” He gave her cheek a gentle smack as she smiled up at him. He reached down and picked up the condom from beside where she was sitting and ripped the package open. She watched with interest in her eyes as he slid the rubber onto his cock.

He pushed her back onto the bed and then positioned himself over her. He knew he couldn’t really just ram into her, so he reached between their bodies and circled his fingers over her clit for a moment to just make sure she was ready. She gasped as she felt his tip press up against her entrance. Pierre looked into her eyes for a moment but then just decided to watch as he bullied his cock into her hole. A choked moan left her lips as she was almost about to run her hands down his back. He shook his head and pinned her wrists to the bed.

“There can’t be any proof that we did this.” He hissed. She nodded and any other thoughts left her mind as he started to slowly thrust into her. Each drag of his cock inside of her was perfect. Her walls were tight around him, molding to fit his cock perfectly. She could feel each vein, each little part of him.

Pierre pulled his hips back so he was almost pulling out of her completely, and then ramming back into her with more force until he was sure that she was ready. His hands gripped onto her hips as he leaned back. He pulled her hips flush against his. She shuddered.

His thrusts were rough and there was absolutely no sort of romanticism or friendliness in their actions. Just pure lust. Pierre had obviously done this before. The kisses that he had left on her neck had been rough, but not enough to leave any marks whatsoever. The grip he had on her hips was tight, but it was just borderline bruising. He knew how to do it just right. Her eyes rolled back into her head.

Pierre grunted with almost every thrust as he watched it knock the air from her. Her moans were muffled with one of his hands moving to cover her mouth. He wasn’t leaving any chances of them being caught and she wasn’t complaining. If anyone found out that they were having sex, both of their reputations would be destroyed. She would probably lose her job too.

They both knew the risks, but neither seemed to care as they fucked like animals in the hotel room. It must’ve been around 10 at night before the other drivers began to even start returning to the hotel. They were still going at it. His eyes met hers as he fucked himself into her still. She had lost count of how many times he had pushed her over the edge at this point. The only thing that she could see anymore was his muscles flexing in the dark room. The lights were off so that if anyone did manage to come inside, they wouldn’t be able to see what was happening.

Somehow, Pierre hadn’t managed to cum once. His stamina was evident from the long time they were able to go at it. Her cheeks were damp from the tears that had spilled from her eyes. As she was able to notice his thrusts getting a bit messier, she realized that he was nearing his climax as well.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” He groaned out as his hips snapped into hers. Her legs were shaking uncontrollably around his waist. Her eyes met his again in the dark room. Pierre watched how her eyes seemed to widen slightly with each thrust, but then narrowed every time he was pulling back.

With a few more thrusts of his hips against hers, their skin met for the first time in a while. He came into the condom, she could feel the warmth inside of her. She fell over the edge for the final time that night. Pierre continued to buck forwards for a few seconds longer until they had both ridden out their orgasms.

Pierre pulled out of her and reached down, taking off the condom and tying it off before throwing it out. She watched as he did this and then walked across the room to put on a shirt and a pair of sweats. She sat up, catching her breath and running a hand through her hair. Standing up, she walked into the washroom to fix up her appearance. Pierre could be heard rummaging around in the room, opening the door to the balcony to let in some fresh air.

“See you at your next race, Pierre.” She said her goodbyes as she slipped on her clothes again. He nodded at her and then she left the room, heading back to her own.

That was how it all started.

After nearly every race for the rest of the season, they would end up in each others hotel rooms. If Kika wasn’t there, she was in his room. If she was there, he was in hers. It didn’t seem to matter anymore whether she was there or not, they were just always finding a way to be with each other.

After the final race in Abu Dhabi, Pierre found himself standing in front of her again. She had the microphone held up to him.

“Nice to see you again, Pierre. What did you think of the outcome of this last race?” She smiled at him as if their relationship was purely professional. They both hid what happened behind closed doors behind an innocent facade.

“Its not what I had hoped for, but it was a fine race. I’m excited for next season.” Pierre answered, leaning forwards slightly so he was a bit closer to the microphone.

“Of course. Are we expecting a great season from you, Mr. Gasly?” She asked, holding eye contact with him. He nodded.

“It will be a great season for all of us, yes.” He tried his best to sound humble. She laughed quietly at this.

“I’m looking forward to it.” She snickered. “I suppose I’ll see you next year. Congratulations.” The camera shut off and she turned to confirm it. The cameraman nodded as per usual and began to walk off. She raised a brow to silently confirm their plans for later on. He nodded. He walked away.

As expected, that night she found herself in his hotel room. She wasn’t too sure where Kika was, but that wasn’t her biggest worry. According to Pierre, she would be out for pretty much the whole night partying with the other WAGs.

Her face was pushed down into a pillow, muffling her screams as she gripped onto the sheets too. Pierre’s hands gripped onto her hips, pulling her to meet each thrust. He was not too happy with getting 13th on the final race of the season. She could feel that.

Pierre rammed into her from behind, gripping roughly onto her ass, watching how it moved as his hips snapped against it. One hand left her ass to move up her back and to her neck.

“Think you’re gonna be able to stay quiet?” He grunted into her ear as his hand moved into her hair, pulling it back. Her back arched and her eyes rolled back, lip trapped under her teeth. “I’m expecting an answer.” He growled.

“I- can stay quiet.” She choked out quietly. Her chest squeezed as she was fighting back her moans. Pierre nodded. His other hand also left her ass to clamp down over her mouth.

“Dont believe you.” He hummed against her neck. She was pulled back so she was pretty much sitting up straight as he fucked into her. His tip slammed up against her G-spot with nearly every thrust. Her clit throbbed and she sobbed into his hand.

If he was to let go of her hair, she was sure to collapse. That was just what he did. He released his grip on her hair and watched as she fell back onto her face, burying her face into the pillow again. His hand slipped underneath her to rub at her clit.

During their second or third time meeting up at night, Pierre had discovered that he took more pleasure in fucking her than with Kika. He wasn’t sure if it was from the roughness of which they had sex or whether it was the adrenaline that pumped through his veins from the thought of being caught, but something made it better.

His mind when he was fucking his girlfriend often just drifted back to her. He wondered how she might act.

His eyes were locked on the small of her back, watching how it twitched occasionally as he hit her g-spot. Her knuckles were white from how hard she was holding onto the sheets. He was worried for a moment that she may rip them. He didn’t know what he would do about that.

Pierre knew that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer this time. His stamina had seemed to go down over the last while. He could hardly contain himself with her.

As per usual, his thrusts got sloppier and he lost his rhythm. She could feel as he came into the condom once again. She moaned in satisfaction as it pushed her over the edge once more. After a moment of both of them riding out their highs, he pulled out of her again.

“Ill see you in a few months?” She asked as she got off of the bed, stumbling for a moment. Pierre touched her waist to help stabilize her. He didn’t need her getting hurt right then.

“I sure hope so.” Pierre muttered and then passed her the shirt that was now on the ground. She took it from him and slipped it on.

“Bye, Pierre.” She gave him a quick pat on the arm and then pulled on her pants before walking out of the door.

How was he supposed to go months without that?

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Behind the Crime

Warren Lipka x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral male receiving, dominate warren, underage drinking, underage smoking, use of marijuana, rough sex, hint of choking, talk of robbery, um yeah i think that’s it

summary: from the moment you were brought into the heist, you knew working with warren was going to be hard…

word count: 3.4k

a/n: sorry for not posting guys i have not been on the grind lately. i watched this movie and omfg evan was so attractive i just needed to write. if you’re the real warren lipka just scroll this is about evan…

~~~

You sit back in your chair, the crew members adjusting your mic. You’re starting to regret doing this interview, but it’s too late to back out now. Everything’s already set up, the camera is about to be rolling. The interviewer is sitting a few feet away from you, notes in his hand. He waits for you to give him the signal that you’re ready. You nod, he begins.

“So, y/n, how did you become involved with the group?” He asks.

“I was first approached by Spencer when I was eating lunch outside one day...”

~~~

You were sitting alone, the cool fall breeze almost too cold to be comforting. You didn’t pay much mind to it though, you were more focussed on your studying. You were flipping through the pages of another history article when suddenly there was a presence beside you. Looking up at them as soon as you noticed, you recognized the boy as someone from your class.

“Can I help you?” You asked, your tone polite.

He looked nervous as if he were about to ask you out. “Hi, uh, I don’t know if you remember my name, I’m Spencer we have Art History together.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve seen you,” you replied. “Do you need help with the homework or something?”

“No, I actually wanted to talk to you about something else, if you’re not busy or anything,” he said, his voice quiet.

You look away for a second before replying. “Sure, sit down if you want I’m not busy.”

He smiled at you before quickly sitting at the spot across from you. He put his bag on the table, you could see him take a deep breath. Was he really going to ask you out? You thought he was cute, but definitely not your type. You started to pray he wouldn’t say anything along those lines.

“I started to ask around a week or two ago about people who are good with computers and stuff, a lot of people told me you were the best person to go to,” he started. He lacked confidence in his voice, you felt bad for the poor guy but paid close attention to his words. “I need some... help with cameras.”

“What kind of cameras?” You asked, intrigued.

What he was saying was true, you were decently good with computers. You mostly would hack into places and disable things you didn’t like, like the cameras on the public library computers. It wasn’t anything illegal, at least you didn’t think it was illegal. It probably was, but you didn’t care.

“Just you know cameras in... semipublic places...”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what kind though? Phone, laptop, desktop, security?”

“Security,” he answered quietly. “But before you say no listen, how does a couple hundred thousand dollars' worth of payment sound?

“What?”

“I won’t tell you the details till I know you’re on board but let's just say something is going down and we need help with the cameras. The pay would be huge and all you’d have to do is just mess with some cameras for like twenty minutes.”

You only stared at him; your mouth slightly hung open. Was he being serious? Was he really asking you to join him in a potential robbery that would pay hundreds of thousands of dollars? You never would’ve expected to be asked such a question on a cloudy Thursday at lunch. You shut your book completely and look around to make sure nobody is close.

“This money, it’s guaranteed?”

He nods. “As long as we get the job done, you’ll have it.”

You knew it was crazy, you knew whatever was going to happen would either result in you going to prison or having to run off into hiding. But the thought of being able to pay all your student loans off and have extra money to live off of was more appealing. Hacking into cameras wasn’t that hard, and it wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Unless it was.

“If you’re trying to get me to make sure a murder or rape isn’t on camera I’ll snitch,” you warned him.

“Oh no, nothing like that is happening at all. It’s just you know a robbery,” he replied, his expression genuine.

You nodded your head, convinced whatever he was asking couldn’t be that bad. “Okay, yeah, I’ll do it.”

~~~

“What was your first impression of the guys?

You smile. “They were really cool, funny, just overall really fun people to hang out with.”

“Do you remember the first time you met all of them?”

“Of course, like it was yesterday...”

~~~

The house you sat in front of didn’t look like a typical criminal's house. It looked like an average American’s family house actually. You were parked out on the road outside the house Spencer told you to go to, you were meeting the rest of the people involved with the robbery. It had been about ten minutes of you sitting out there debating whether or not to go in before you got a text from Spencer asking where you were. You sighed, praying to God this decision was the right one before getting out of your car.

You knocked on the front door with a shaky fist. You started to regret your decision, you thought about turning around and leaving, but the door was opened before you could act on it. An older woman stood in front of you, she looked to be in her 50s.

“Oh, you’re very pretty,” she said, making your cheeks turn red. “You’re here to see Warren, right?”

You had no idea who Warren was, but you nodded. The lady's smile grew, and she opened the door for you and ushered you inside. She directed you to the basement entrance, asking you a million questions you had no answers to. After those few but excruciating painful minutes though, you walked down the basement stairs and finally caught sight of Spencer.

There were three other guys in the room and all of their eyes were on you. Two, along with Spencer, were sitting on a couch. One of them was skinny with glasses, the other muscular with no glasses. They didn’t grasp your attention though. The last guy who was standing did. He had long dark curly hair, and eyes to match. His eyes met yours before you watched them slowly move up and down your body. You didn’t know how to react.

“Guys, this is y/n,” Spencer said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Hello, I’m Eric,” the guy with glasses introduced himself.

“Chas,” the muscular guy spoke, not paying much attention to you. “Are you sure this was a good idea, Spence? How much do we really know about this chick? No offense.”

“Shut up, we agreed,” Spencer hissed. He waved you over and you complied, walking to the couch and sitting on the end beside him.

The standing guy took a step forward and held out his hand to you. You looked up at him before accepting his handshake. His hand was rough, you liked the feeling of it in yours. “I’m Warren and you are our cameraman or woman I guess.”

You laughed. “I guess.”

“How much has Spencer told you?” Warren asked after letting go of your hand and stepping back. It was then you noticed the maps on the wall with drawings all over them, the layout looked familiar.

“Just that I need to hack some cameras and that it’ll pay me a lot,” you answered. “I don’t even know what you guys are stealing.”

“Well y/n, I’m sure you’ve been to your own school's library right?”

You nodded.

“Have you ever taken a tour of the library’s rare book collection?”

You nodded again.

Warren smirked. “Then you know exactly what we’re stealing.”

Your face fell and you immediately looked at Spencer and the rest of the guys. “Are you serious? You guys want to steal historic books?”

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Chas mumbled from his chair.

“Shut up Chas,” Warren quickly snapped. He looked back at you, his dark eyes engulfing yours completely. “We’ve been planning this out for months, and you are the last piece to our puzzle y/n. Think about how much you’ll be earning.”

You didn’t say anything. Maybe it was a bad idea.

~~~

“Chas eventually stopped being cold to me, I actually think in the end he became my closest friend in the group,” you say, finishing your story.

The interviewer gives you a look. “Well, besides Warren right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you reply, a confused look on your face.

“I have to ask if the stories are true, you know about you and him. The other guys say something changed between the two of you after a party you all attended. I mean, didn’t the police even question if your involvement had a deeper meaning than simply the money?”

You shake your head, giving your best performance. “Me and Warren were only ever best friends, there was never a deeper meaning behind anything.”

~~~

Music was pumping through your body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head you could feel it. It had been a few weeks since you met the guys, and they all wanted to do something fun before the heist. So, a frat party was naturally the easiest option. That’s where you were now, already two shots and half a joint in. You didn’t know where Spencer, Nick, and Warren were, but Chas was dancing with you.

Though the two of you got off on the wrong foot, you and Chas quickly learned how well you get along. He was a good friend, all of the guys were. You liked how easily they could make you laugh and brighten your mood. They were all good people who you enjoyed being around.

Warren was the only one that you felt different for. You didn’t know why, but from the first day you met you knew your feelings for him would be different than the other three. The way he looked at you alone was completely different than the others. There was always something darker in his eyes, something you knew wasn’t supposed to be there for simply a friend. Every time the two of you looked at each other, your stomach filled with butterflies. You wanted it too. But in those first few weeks, nothing had happened. No matter how much either of you wanted it.

After some minutes of you and Chas dancing, Warren and Spencer appeared. They asked if the two of you wanted to go out and smoke, you both agreed and followed them outside the back. Not too many people were in the backyard, but there were enough for there to be a bonfire going. The four of you found an empty spot near the fire and sat down. Warren took out a joint and lit it before passing it around.

“Where’s Nick?” You asked after taking a hit.

Spencer shrugged. “Probably with the weird kids doing weird stuff.”

“He’s not that weird,” Chas replied. “He’s just awkward.”

You watched as Warren took another long hit of the joint. Because of the weed and alcohol, you found yourself even more attracted to him than when you were sober. You wanted so desperately to run your fingers through his hair, you wanted to hear his voice as you touched him. He suddenly met your gaze, his lips curled up into a mesmerizing smile. You wanted to kiss him. It was too much for you to handle.

You swallowed and stood up, brushing the dirt off your shorts. “I need to um use the bathroom.”

You didn’t wait for any of their replies. Instead, you rushed back into the house straight to the kitchen. You poured yourself a shot, downing it before giving it a second thought. You needed these feelings to go away. How were you supposed to work with Warren if you couldn’t even look at him without thinking about having sex with him? It made you feel awful. A hookup couldn’t be the reason the robbery went bad, you refused to let that happen.

After another shot, you started to forget about your feelings. In fact, you started to forget about Warren completely. All you felt was the burning sensation of the alcohol in your stomach and chest, it felt good. You stumbled out of the kitchen and into the hallway, grabbing the railings of the staircase for support. Suddenly, you felt a presence next to you, their hand on your back.

“Y/N, are you good?” It was Warren.

You turned your head and looked at him, God how could he look even better? “No- I’m not okay.”

“You’re wasted, you need some water,” he said. He moved his hand around your waist and pulled you up straight. You felt like you were on fire. “Come on, back to the kitchen.”

“Why are you here? I just- I just wanna forget about you,” you mumbled.

He started helping you walk back to the kitchen. “What? Why would you want to forget about me?”

“Because... I want you but I can’t have you. I thought you- felt the same that’s why it’s been so hard to resist,” you spoke, stumbling over your words. “I can’t look at you without thinking about you fucking me.”

Even in your drunken state, you could still see the cockiness on Warren’s face. He lifted you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly before turning and getting you a cup of water. You leaned your head back against one of the cabinets, your head was spinning. You couldn’t think straight.

“Drink,” Warren’s voice filled your ears.

You lifted your head and grabbed the solo cup from his hand, downing the water faster than ever. When you finished, you threw the cup to the floor, your eyes meeting Warren’s once again. He was standing close enough that if you reached, you could touch him.

Perhaps it was because of the alcohol, or perhaps it was because of how long you’d felt the tension between you two, that gave you the courage to gently place your hand on the top of his head. His hair was soft, just like you’d expected it to be. You smiled and played with his curls. He didn’t object, you were glad. You needed this.

“Do you want me?” You asked, your voice barely audible against the loud music.

“What do you think?”

You shrugged. “I thought so, but I could always be wrong.”

“Maybe I should make it clearer,” he said. He grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand off his head before stepping closer to you. “If this house wasn’t crowded, I’d fuck you right here, right now.”

Your heart was racing, your cheeks bright red. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Warren was still holding your wrist, it sent electric shocks throughout your body. His eyes began to shift from your eyes to your lips and so on. You swallowed; a lump had formed in your throat.

“There’s probably an empty room somewhere,” you mentioned. “You could take me to one of them and show me you mean what you say.”

Warren raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, you’re pretty drunk.”

“I’m not- I swear. I consent, I’ll remember all of this in the morning,” you replied quickly.

“All right.”

Before you could say anything else, Warren scooped you into his arms and began to carry you through the house. You didn’t know whether to pretend you were drunk so it wouldn’t look suspicious or stay awake to also not make it look suspicious. You chose to stay awake and within minutes you and Warren were alone in a bedroom, your lips connected.

The kiss was fast and rough, everything you expected from him. His arms were wrapped around your waist, he towered over you. You wasted no time, immediately kicking off your shoes and pushing Warren back until he fell onto the bed. He pulled you on top of him, guiding your hips in slow motions over his clothed erection. You felt like you were on fire, you needed more.

You broke this kiss and leaned back so you were straddling him. You pulled off your shirt and bra, Warren followed your actions. Once your eyes fell upon his toned abdomen, you audibly moaned. You quickly leaned down again and kissed his chest, beginning a trail down his body. Each breath that left his mouth made your pussy drip even more. And when you reached his navel, his breaths turned into soft whispers.

“Keep going.”

“Please.”

“I’ll do anything.”

When you no longer had any skin left to kiss you looked back up at him, his eyes were already on you. He got your signal and instantly pulled his shorts and boxers off, leaving him completely naked. You weren’t surprised at his size; you had a feeling he’d be big. You started off by slowly stroking him with your hand, the expressions on his face already enough to make you cum.

After a minute or so of that, you bent down and pressed a small kiss to his tip. You loved the way his leg twitched. It made you proud. So, you took him into your mouth. He gasped, one of his hands finding its way to the back of your head. He didn’t push you; he only twirled your hair back into a ponytail-like style and gripped it tight. You moved your head up and down, taking as much of him in your mouth as you could. You were never a fan of giving head to guys, but with Warren, it was a different story.

Not much time passed before Warren pushed you gently, telling you he wasn’t going to last much longer. You didn’t care, you wanted him to finish in your mouth. But he told you he wanted to have sex, so you stopped. You peeled off your shorts and underwear before you climbed back onto him. His naked body against yours felt unreal, you were almost convinced this was all part of your drunken imagination.

However, when Warren pulled your head down and began to kiss your lips again, you knew it had to be real. His hands gripped your ass, kneading and playing with your skin. You positioned his tip at your entrance, you were so wet you didn’t need any lube. You broke the kiss and looked into his eyes, you wanted to know it was okay. He gave you a nod and so you began to push yourself down on him.

He filled you well, just the perfect amount. You had thrown your head back, a moan escaping your lips. You hadn’t had sex in months, and this was the perfect way to break that streak. You started to move your body forward and backward while simultaneously going up and down. Warren’s grip on your ass tightened with each movement you made.

“Fuck baby,” he moaned. “You do it so well.”

Your confidence was boosted; you began to move faster. This only lasted a few minutes though, much to your dismay. You weren’t too athletic; you didn’t have good stamina. Warren noticed this, and without saying anything he flipped your bodies. Once on top of you, he began violent thrusts. You almost screamed from the pleasure; you’d never felt anything remotely close to it in your life. He hit your cervix each time, it made your back arch off the mattress and your nails dig into his back.

“Warren,” you whimpered. “Oh, fuck Warren.”

One of his hands wrapped around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, he just rested it there. You felt the knot in your stomach form at this. It felt so good to be dominated by him. It had been your dream for weeks, and it had finally come true. You closed your eyes and let the feeling of Warren fucking you fill your senses.

When you came, you practically screamed his name. You swore you could see stars. You’d never experienced an orgasm so hard in your life. Warren came a few seconds after you, you felt his dick pulsing inside you. He collapsed on you. You didn’t care about how his weight crushed you, you still held him as the two of you began to come down from your highs.

~~~

As the crew packs up, you remain in your chair, staring blankly out one of your windows. The interviewer is still across from you, but you don’t notice until he speaks.

“Just tell me one thing, off the record,” he says, grabbing your attention. “Did you love him?”

A small smile grows on your lips. “With all my heart.”

[cookie-crumblr]

I miss professor reichsgraf

GN! Bad Student Reader x Professor OC!

Minors DNI

CW: GN! Reader, reader referred to as they/them, no body descriptions for reader, lots of swearing tbh lol, reader is RUDE (just because they’re sleepy! we still stan🥰) spanking, pet names for reader(good kitten, darling), Sub!Reader, reader has hair(not described just enough to grab), fingering (not specified which hole dw), nipple play, crying reader, tetro?, overstim, dubcon(no proper safeword), sado maso, p in hole, not proofread.

(IDK i hope it turned out okay, it doesn’t seem the way i want it, but i can’t tell rn if it’s just me T.T)

“You are, quite possibly the worst student i’ve ever had the misfortune of teaching.”

You mock him on the phone with your bestie.

“Stupid ass over qualified teacher.”

“Fur reaaaalll. my gods, what an asshole!” they respond.

“It’s too bad he’s so hot. What a waste.” You resume what you were doing and hold the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“I would tap, i wonder if he’s into that like teacher/student play…” they trail off.

“Ew. please don’t fantasize about my dickwad professor. At least with me around,” You feign gagging.

The next day in class you’re slouching, hoping to the gods that he just forgets you exist so that you can try and catch up on your assignments… But Fuck it’s so hard! You don’t have time for school work when you’re home, because you’re usually sleeping, after your two jobs. And all these pompous professors do is give homework!!! ALL OF THEM.

It’s the end of the ninety minute mark and you, along with everyone else, starts packing your things.

“Y/L/N. Stay behind a minute.” Professor Reichsgraf sighs, and tosses an empty cup into the trash can.

“Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhg!” You groan, thankfully the room is loud enough that he might not of even—

“Gods, you’d swear I told you that you’re going to jail,” He laughs. He’s sat behind the desk a little slouched like normal, head in a hand, elbow on a stack of papers (probably so it’s more comfortable) you tsk out loud at your thoughts, before pretending to yawn.

What a class A assho-

“Have a seat,” he asks.

“This will take that long??” You sigh out frustratedly.

“Gods, you young peop—”

“Oh don’t you ‘young people these days’ Me, mister!”

“It’s Doctor.”

“Oooo big dif. Fuck off” You cross your arms and roll your eyes.

He rolls his own, “Just sit.”

With a *plop*! into the seat, you do.

The professor stands, his hand lazily traces a knot in his desk as he rounds the table and approaches you slowly. “I don’t usually do this…”

“Woah, Um isn’t there like a rule against—”

“What!?” He furrows his brow then massages it quickly between his finger and thumb. “No, i’m offering to tutor you,” He sighs in annoyance.

“Oh really?” You would still really like to at least pass… “Okay fine.”

“What? really? no deals needed?” He looks you over.

shrugging, you say, “I mean what are you offering?”

“Nope, it’s a done deal, you already signed the dotted line crossed your t’s and all that.” He steps ever closer, and leans on the table you’re sat at.

“When do we start?”

~

You’ve had a few sessions with your professor but nothing seems to be working, the information just isn’t sticking until…

“Bend over.” Reichsgraf growls, head in his hand in frustration.

“Excuse me?” Your brows raise in shock.

“Bend over my knee, right now. You aren’t learning this way.”

You think at first he’s lying. Just trying to make you uncomfortable or something, maybe a bee flew into his coffee this morning so he’s taking it out on you. You don’t know. But you do it. You get down, lay over his lap and wait.

His hand massages your rump, “Now what’s the answer to number five?”

“A?”

A hand comes down onto your flesh with a *Smack!*

“Ow!” You yelp! “What the fuck!?”

“What is the answer to number five? Don’t just guess.”

“Is it not A?” You ask, it looks right… Right?

*SMACK!”

“OW!!” You yelp again, louder this time, it stings so much more the second time!

“You know the answer.”

“C!” You suddenly remember something he said about it yesterday, and he’s right, you did know the answer!

“Good job, I’m impressed.” He isn’t lying, he really is. Only two spanks on the first time? Maybe he had been hoping for more though, to be honest.

It’s a unique way to have to learn like this, but with you, he’s happy to oblige. All the time spent being frustrated that you couldn’t commit even the simplest knowledge to memory, he can finally get rid of…

“Okay now six.”

“Do we have to do the whole assignment like this?”

“Yes. Six.”

You shout, “A!”

*Smack!*

“Shit! I mean B!” You wince.

“You guessed again. Read the answer, and tell me why it’s correct.”

“Do i have to? I got it right that time.”

Suddenly the hand on your rear moves to your clothed sex, he presses down hard and trails along the divide. A gnawing heat starts to grow in your lower half quickly.

“Hey! wait-!”

“We don’t have the time. what is the answer to seven?”

“D!”

“Good Kitten,” His baritone seems even deeper somehow, as he rubs you harder, your jeans are getting too hot to bare. “We need these off.” He tugs on your back belt loop.

“Yeah…” You shock yourself when you agree so readily. You stand to unbutton them and get them off, but he slaps your hands away and takes your pants off for you.

Your body gets thrown around until your bent over the desk and the wood’s digging into your hip bones.

“Professor-!”

A growl escapes his throat. his hair is messier than usual when you turn back to look, before he grabs yours and steers you forward.

His fingers enter you first, already setting a fast pace, he curls them and scissors them; all while pistoning so fast you feel like you’re already teetering on the edge. “Such a good kitten, you’re doing so good for me,” He hums deeply in his throat.

You whine and wriggle, until he tenses his grip in your hair and on your hip. His hand fans out over your skin and gropes you the entire way up to your chest, pressing a traveling dent into your stomach and over your ribs. Your brows peak, and your mouth hangs open.

“Seven.”

“SERIOUSLY???” You stomp, way to take you out of it.

*SLAP!* Your ass was sore from the earlier abuse, to be slapped now stings so brutally!!!

“F-fuck!!” You shake.

“Seven. Now.” His hand is raised and prepped to hit you again.

You shimmy and jump, “No, no more please!!”

*SLAP!*

“AHH!” You screech! “ummm,” You read the question rapidly through bleary eyes, “D! D! It’s D!!!” You shout and writhe in his grasp.

“I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do this,” He rubs something cooling on your ass cheek and it feels so much better!

“Oh thank you thank you oh my gods.” you let out so much air you feel dizzy. His cock starts to rub against you, making your dizzy spell last longer. it’s so hot and hard and.. LONG! Holy shit it’s so long! You’re gonna be speared to death on that thing! You drool at the anticipation! “Fuck me.” You say it in a long groan as an expression but also mean it very much.

“You deserve it, you’ve been doing so good,” Holy shit, his words strike some heavenly chord that opens your pearly gates wide for him, and he enters without resistance, taking his time to really appreciate your interior.

“Holy shit!” You can’t help the obscenities, they just fall from your lips naturally, you’re so surprised at all of this, at yourself for willingly doing it, at your hot teacher for wanting you in the first place, at so many things…. Most of all at how HOT his dick is like molten lava inside you and it feels fucking DIVINE.

“You’re such a good kitten,” He rubs you as you take his length.

His movements are calculated, every single one. No matter how fast they hit your spots like a master martial artist targeting pressure points. You aren’t getting a break from his assaults every strike is a critical blow. Even when he slows down his spongey head sweetly kisses those spots igniting obscene fires that don’t have time to burn out before being reignited fully.

You’re getting close, so painfully close to a volcanic eruption, your bubbling!

“Cum for me, darling” He leans down over your back, to whisper into your ear, his voice gravely and so low.

“AHH!!!” You scream out and your whole body goes rigid and convulses, his own cum shoots inside you and you take all of it.

“So good for me, you took me so well, darling…” His eyes practically have hearts in them.

[orangelionfurandtaxidermy]

Hi, I have some fur farm questions if you don't mind answering.

I've seen you mention that Sapphire is questionable. Why is that? Is it bc of the bleeding and CHS? If so, is Mansfield's Pearl also questionable to breed? And can CHS or bleeding issues be bred out or are they inherently part of the color?

On that note, do you have information on other color mutations that are linked to health issues?

Lastly, how does one get into fur farming? It seems really expensive to set up and buy all the foxes, and I struggle to find fur farms to follow online bc of how taboo it is let alone finding farms to buy live stock from, especially of rare mutations. Is finding farms to buy from more of a word of mouth + trust thing? And is mentorship of new farmers a thing or is fur farming too competitive for established farmers to want to do that?

Bonus: feel free to talk about your favorite mutations or anything else you wanna share.

Hi!

Yes Sapphires seem to all carry genetic illnesses. Some look to be only mildly affected, I’ve been following a few foxes friends of me carefully bred after they discovered some of their Pearls are Mansfield Pearls. So far the animals look to be doing ok, so it’s surely not a death sentence.

However I fear not all farms will be so careful about their breeding or using unhealthy animals because they want to get that special color. You’ve probably seen or heard about Mouse, the Sapphire fox Save a Fox bought from Northern Fox and Fur (a fur farm) several years ago.

Sadly Mouse did have severe CHS and had to be euthanised. There are very strong suspicions the farm bred “special needs” animals so the rescue could profit from the sob stories. Eventually Save a Fox bought out the whole farm. As of today it’s still about half filled with foxes because they can’t place the animals anywhere. Every rescue is full.

Mansfield Pearl alters the way in which blood behaves, foxes of this color seem very prone to excessive bleeding. I acquired this female Pearl Cross (suspected Mansfield Pearl Cross) “secondhand” a few years ago from the US. From what I see in the picture, it’s not a place I want to support. However this girl had already been culled for killing her whole litter of pups. When my tanner skinned the fox, they found that the bones were super weak and easy to snap. The skin had an unusual amount of bloodvessels and also the gums and teeth were quite funky. I’m still waiting for the cleaned skull.

In red foxes there’s not that many bad mutations luckily. Pale eyed foxes do experience sensitivity to the sun, we’ve seen them squint in direct sunlight. Mixing Whitemark/Ringneck/Platinum/Georgian (Snow) creates a lethal effect in homozygous form. Platinums can be anemic but it does seem to be worse in certain breeding lines than others. There’s probably others I’m forgetting but sadly there’s not much research being done anymore.

Finding a farm to work with is very hard nowadays. I somehow got myself a contact 5-6 years ago and it’s snowballed from there. The number of farms is very low now though, many of my own contacts have decided to stop farming because it’s essentially two full time jobs for the pay of half a job.

At least here in Europe it’s pretty much impossible to start up your own farm unless you have serious cash. No bank will want to provide you a loan because there’s little money to be made in the industry. Mutation foxes are very rare, most of what is produced is mink fur, arctic fox fur (‘bluefox’) and some raccoondog fur. You’ll find some Silver and Gold fox, but even those pelts are currently being sold in bulk at rock bottom prices to overseas buyers.

A picture of a Smokey Platinum pup for those who read this whole thing lol. This is a newer mutation for us, last year we had one male and this pup is one of his. Can you see the differences between this cage vs the one the female Pearl Cross lived in (she could barely turn around)? The cage in the background gives a better view of the size. There is also a nest box attached.

[cripplecharacters]

hello! do you have any advice on writing disabled characters in historical setting? specifically characters, whose diagnosis hadn't been discovered yet (for example I have a character with pots but they live before 1982)

Hi,

I love historical fiction, and know this can be a little tricky, because of course disability of various kinds has always existed and conditions are real before they’re named.

But you have options!

The most important thing, I would say, is describing the aspects of the condition and your character’s feelings and behavior around it (how they manage it, what they notice about it). You can also describe other people’s responses to how they feel and act.

You should definitely describe how your character feels about their condition. Do they wish there were others like them to talk to, do they actually already have a community of people similar to them, or do they wish no one else has what they have? Do they wonder if anyone they know is like them, or think they must be alone? Maybe they feel like their condition not a big deal at all and just an inconvenience, or maybe they feel really hindered by it and it greatly upsets them, or maybe they’re somewhere in between and sometimes get really frustrated and sometimes they feel it’s just a thing that happens.

And of course the answers to all of these will be different depending on your time period—someone with POTS in 1795 will manage their symptoms differently than someone with POTS in 1968, and the same goes for all conditions. But for POTS specifically, without naming it:

For the symptoms you can describe your character noticing that whenever they stand or sit up they feel their heart race and they feel dizzy or faint. They might not know why, but they’ll know how their body reacts.

You can describe what they avoid doing because they’ve noticed it makes them feel worse—maybe they take showers that are less hot, or go out as little as possible when it’s very hot/humid out, or maybe they don’t drink alcohol or coffee. Maybe it’s bad enough they can’t do some sort of work that is expected of them at their home, or their job, or school.

You can describe what they do because it makes them feel better—maybe they drink a lot of water, maybe they buy socks a size smaller because they noticed it makes them feel a little better, maybe they always give themselves an extra half hour to get anything done so they can stand or sit up more slowly. Maybe they take over someone else’s specific work because they can manage that better and trade with them.

As to other character’s reactions, some characters may be positive and always offer your character their arm when they’re standing so they can worry less about fainting. Some might be pretty neutral and just ask them why they never go grab a beer with them. Some might be negative and roll their eyes whenever your character needs extra time or to sit down for a bit.

People with POTS and similar conditions will recognize themselves in your character’s actions and reactions, and it’s very possible that people who have friends or family or people they know with POTS or anything similar will think “oh that’s kind of like what John Doe has.” And even if they don’t, they’ll still have read a realistic and respectful story about someone with a disability.

This goes for any disability, not just POTS. Just swap out the symptoms and ways to manage it and characters’ reactions accordingly.

Something you can choose to do, but you don’t have to do, is add a note at some point (but probably either at the end or the beginning of the story) that your character has what today we would know as POTS.

For an example I’ve seen in real life (not POTS related but about disability in general), I read a book set in the early 20th century in an institution, The Degenerates by J. Albert Mann. Since it’s a different time period, characters are referred to by terms we don’t use anymore at all or not in the same way, and many characters have conditions that we know about today but were not known at all at that time. What the author did was describe the characters’ actions (and thoughts, if they were the POV character), as well as how others reacted to them. At the end there was an appendix describing what each character might have been diagnosed with today, if anything at all (since not all people ended up at asylums because of an actual condition and some were just poor or Othered in some other way).

Thank you for your thoughtful question! I feel like I rarely see characters in historical fiction who have basically any disabilities, but thank you for wanting to create some :)

Good luck!

— Mod Sparrow

[deansapplepie]

Dr. Dixon | Chapter 1

Summary: You just moved to a new city, with a job in Alexandria Hospital on the Pediatric team. You were happy and anxious to work with friends and finally meet your mentor’s former pupil who he talked fondly about. You just didn’t expect he was going to be your last night’s one nightstand and that he was nothing like your mentor had described.

Pairing: Doctor! Daryl Dixon x Doctor! Reader

Warnings: smut, sex, casual sex, protected sex, p-in-v, bathroom sex, alcoholic beverages, Daryl. 18 + MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

A/N: Not really sure if it all went the way I wanted, but I quite proud of this first chapter. I hope you enjoy it. 🩷 Not proof read.

Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 1 - Doctor Dixon

You entered the bar not really knowing what you were looking there. Maybe an escape, a way to not be so anxious about the upcoming day or maybe you just wanted to feel less bad for being at your friends’ house till you find a place for yourself. You hated disturbing people, even if they said you weren’t.

Going out alone wasn’t really your thing, but from time to time it was a good thing to do. The bar wasn’t exactly full, but it wasn’t empty either. You went for a stool near to the counter, where it seemed to have less strange people.

“A piña colada, please.” You asked the bartender.

“Yer not expecting to get boozed by this, are ya?” A stranger sitting by your side said.

You looked at him and couldn’t feel annoyed or anything, you also felt his comment wasn’t mean at any rate. He was a handsome especimen, shoulder length brown wavy hair, bright blue eyes, a smirk on his lips and his tall and well buit frame made an impression.

“I don’t need a booze, I just want a drink.” You said while analyzing him, at his hand he had a glass of what you presumed was Whysky. “Can’t say the same about you, apparently you go for the strong things.”

“Hmm…” he hummed, didn’t say anything.

“Not my business, but Did you have a rough day?” The bartender brought your drink and you started sipping from it.

“Kinda.” He clearly didn’t want to talk about it , but you didn’t want to listen too. It was just something that made you want to talk to him.

“Hmm” This time you were the one that hummed.

“Ya ain’t from here, are ya?” He asked, nit that the city was small, it was a big city. Impossible to know everyone. But just by looking at you, he knew you were new.

“No, but you aren’t from here too.” You could see it all over him, his body language, his accent and the way he spoke.

“Nah, but I’ve probably been here longer than ya.” He answered.

“Indeed.” You said and went back to your drink.

By some strange reason that you couldn’t pin point why, you felt like you needed to continue talking to him. Not just because he was attractive, but mainly because he was having a simple, casual conversation with you without being a jerk or trying to hit on you. And because of all this a sentence that you never expected coming out of your mouth was released before you could even stop your thoughts. “Wanna release the stress?”

His eyes that were studying his glass so attentively went back to your figure and he tried to read in you if you were implying what he thought you were implying. You looked back at him and tried to not avert your eyes from his, the words had already left your mouth. Now you needed to be bold.

“I’m giving you 2 minutes, if you don’t come I’ll leave, pretend this never happened and never come back to this bar.” You took a last portion of your drink and left the stool going in the bathrooms direction.

Once inside the bathroom you leaned against the cold wall right beside the entrance door while reality hit you of what you had just done. Did you really make that offer to a complete stranger that you didn’t even knew the name? Yes, you did and despite feeling this was a little bit crazy, you couldn’t feel anything else besides of the adreline, of your moment of boldness, running through your vains.

For a moment Daryl thought that should be a joke, he meant… you were beautiful, cute and probably younger than him. You looked as if you were on your 30s, maybe even on your later 20s. He couldn’t know for sure. You were so direct and casual about it, also he felt comfortable throughout all of your little chit chat. He decided he would go after you, he would accept your proposal. What could possibly go wrong? He’d never see you again.

Had 2 minutea already passed? You thought so. You didn’t had a Watch and you weren’t really looking at your phone for the ours. It was time to live, you thought. You turnes around to live and was face to face with the man, or better face to chest since you look up if you wanted to see his face.

“Thought… you weren’t coming.” You said, your cheeks ligerally blushed at being caught about to leave.

“I thought I wasn’t coming…” he honestly answered. “D’ya really want this?”

“Yea.” That was the only word that left your mouth before you pressed your chest against his and crashed your lips.

He tasted o whisky, peppermint and tobacco, and strangely you liked it. You yanked him by his shirt and without breaking the heated kiss your feet guided you to the farthest toilet inside the bathroom and he charged himself with the duty of closing the door to give both of you as much privacy as you could get.

You were so sweet and smelled so well that he was sure he had never had someone like you before. He held your left thigh and brought it up his was waist pressing his crotch against yours. You broke the kiss seeking for air and he took the opportunity to descend his mouth from your jaw to your neckbone. Eliciting little sighs and moans from you. Was he really having something like you?

Your hand grasped his hair pressing his face more against you, while your hips rubbed against his. His hand came to the cleavage of your dress and pulled it down exposing your breast, you gasped surprised with the sudden act. He brought your other leg up, making your legs embrace his waist.

You went for his mouth again, your bodies impossibly pressed against each other and the wall. His hand now hovered your clothed pussy and she pulsed for him, he pressed his hand against you exercing some presure where you needed. Your hands descended to his pants undoing his belt and opening it to touch him.

His mouth softly but also harshly mouthed your breasts each at a time giving the attention that such beautiful pieces like yours deserved. You took his cock out of his boxers pumping it, caressing it… in your mind you thouched him frantically, despaired and firmly. On his skin he felt it, oh, so tender and delicately like nobody had ever touched him and at the same time it felt like you were sending him to heaven.

One of your hands started going up from his groin to his stomach and that was when his hand held yours before you could go any further and touch what you weren’t supposed to, see what you shouldn’t. Before you could notice anything he took both your hands up your head and held them against the wall using only one of his hands and suffering with the loss of contact from your hand on his length.

He reached his backpocket for a condom while you aimlessly trusted your hips against him. He teared the package with his teeth before putting the protection. You could have complained about him restraining your hands from touch him, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t like the way he was being imposing at the moment.

He put your panties aside and rubbed the tip of his cock on your heat and that was enough to make your eyes roll and a moan scape your lips. You trusted your hips against him in hopes of sinking down on his cock and he understood the message, too damn well. Going deep inside of you in one swift movement. He groaned and you gasped, you had never felt so full like this. What was this man!? He gave you some seconds before he started to move, trusting steady and hard in you. Each trust a groan and moan escaping both of your lips, the possibility of other people entering the bathroom long gone from your worries. There was only pleasure and the chasing for the bliss that would fog your minds for the rest of the night or at least you hoped for it.

Your lips battling each other while you vigorously bucked your hips against one another, that so familiar and delicious turmoil building at your lower stomach. Your walls contracting around him threatening to send him to the edge. But he couldn’t let it go without you, no not you that offered this moment to him. You deserved it, you owned it, he refused to let the beautiful stranger he met on the bar down. His free hand went down encountering your clit and stimulating, caressing and working it while he trusted inside of you right at that spot making you see stars when you convulsed in pleasure against and around him. His own pleasure coming afterwards. Your moans, whimpers and groans muffled by your attached lips.

The other day you woke up early, you had to show up at the Hospital at 8am. You got yourself ready and went downstairs for breakfast. You were staying at your friends’ house while you looked for a nice place to rent. Michonne and Rick Grimes were being too gentle to you and you didn’t want to take too much advantage from their hospitality. You started preparing breakfast when Mich came to the kitchen.

“Good morning! What time did you get home yesterday? I didn’t hear you arriving.” She asked opening the fridge to take more ingredients to prepare the food the children liked.

“Good, that was the intention, arrive and don’t disturb anyone.” You answered while you added some salt to the scrambled eggs you were preparing. “It was around 2.”

“Two???” Michonne inquired and looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “What were you doing missy?”

“I met a guy.” You answered. Simply.

“So you did get laid!” She teased you. It wasn’t that you didn’t get laid often… well you didn’t, but that was your kore reserved nature.

“Who got laid?” Rick asked entering the kitchen and Michonne said your name.

“Thank you Mich, now I’m really embarrassed. That’s the price for the rent in this house?” Your cheeks were red. One thing was talking about sex with you bestie from university, the other was involving her husband in the talk.

“I’m taking as it was good, since you arrived that late.” She ignored you.

“Aren’t you afraid the children will listen?” You questioned.

“Jude and RJ are knocked out at this time, they’ll only wake up with their babysitter.” Rick said casually, the couple had 3 children, Judith and RJ the youngest ones, and Carl, the oldest, that was at college. “So I guess we can tease you the whole breakfast.”

“I hate you. Both of you.” You told them.

“Nah, you don’t.” Michonne told you and nudged you with the side of her hips.

You felt like a kid going to a new school at the first time, and Rick and Michonne were your parents. You arrived all together at the Hospital and they took you to Hershel Greene’s office, the Medical Chief of the Hospital. You had already talked before, for the interview, it was online and you had to use an app for that.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person Dr. Greene.” You shook his hand.

“The pleasure is mine! Dr. Dixon is coming in a bit, I already beeped him. I believe you already know him, his mentor in specialization was the same as yours.” He said. Oh, Daryl Dixon… your mentor had talked so much and fondly about him that sometimes you were even jealous. “He’s the Chief of the Pediatric Department.”

“Oh, I heard about him. Dr. Foster talked a lot about him, but unfortunately we didn’t have the chance to meet each other.” You replied.

“Well, I see that you are already good friends with Dr. Greene, so I’m going to let you in his hands. I have to see a patient before a surgery.” Michonne said before turning to leave the office and encounter with no other person than Dr. Dixon himself. “Look, here he is!”

You turned yourself to greet and introduce yourself to your new boss and was shocked to say the least, you almost choked on your spit. Dr. Dixon gave a small jump with the sight of you, which could go unnoticed for anyone, but it wasn’t for Michonne. Also, she saw how your eyes popped when you saw him. The man from the bar. The kind stranger that fucked you so good against a wall that you thought no one else would do it so good like him.

You breathed deeply before speaking. You said your name and last name and hold your hand to him. “It’s pleasure to meet you, Dr. Foster talked a lot about you.” You offered a shy small smile to the very serious man.

He looked at your hand and completely ignored it, then he looked at your eyes and it seemed as his blue orbs would make a hole on your soul. “Didn’t know now he was taking mediocre people as his apprentices. Maybe, ‘cause you were there to entertain him instead of learning.”

That was painful, it stabbed like a knife. You didn’t know why he was being like this. Before you could say anything, Hershel intervened. He knew how Daryl could be, but he was just being too much. “That’s not how you welcome a new co-worker, Dr. Dixon.” And then the old man turned to you. “Don’t care too much about it, he’s just in a bad mood today.”

He shouldn’t. He had no reason to be on a bad mood. You mean, you woke up as if the world was light, sweet and sunny. The only reason for him to be acting like this is that he was probably afraid of you telling every. Which you wouldn’t.

“Dr. Dixon, you’re responsible for our new doctor today. Show her around the hospital, the offices of the clinic and of course the room of the team where you’re working together.” Hershel commanded the younger man. “Please, try to behave.”

Daryl grunted and left the room, you took a quick look at the others and noticed Hershel wanted you to follow the other Doctor and Michonne had that look of “we’ll talk later about this.”.

You walked behind him trying to accompany his fast and long steps. You passed in front of places and he just shouted the names of it, without looking at you or explaining things correctly.

“Can you stop?!” You fastened your pace and stopped in front of him.

“Nah, I can’t. Now, move!” He tried putting you aside but you planted your feet strongly on the ground.

“Why are you acting like this? Are you afraid I’m telling someone? I won’t, ok?” You tried to mend things with him. “Now can you stop being an asshole?”

“Can ya stop trying to get yerself fired?” He threw it back at you, not that he really had the power to get you fired. Maybe just from his department.

“I’m not going to jump on your dick.” You said it low enough for only the two of you to hear. “Can you just be professional like any other normal human being?”

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325 @hayley1998 @shadowcitrine

DIvider and mdni banner by @cafekitsune

[raineandsky]

#115

The villain slips out of sight, and civilians crowd the hero before they can think to follow. Several microphones materialise half an inch from their face.

“What does it mean for the city when villains get away like this?”

“Why is this villain so difficult to catch?”

“[Hero], this way!”

“[Hero]!”

They can see one reporter elbowing his way to the front of the crowd. He nudges his glasses up his nose awkwardly, a clipboard in one hand and a voice recorder in the other. He looks like an old school nerd, in a way.

He manages to wrestle his way to the front of the mob, miraculously. The hero isn’t convinced even they could do that. He clears his throat, adjusts his shirt against his neck, and presses a button on his recorder.

“What are your relations to [Villain]?”

The hero could’ve not spotted him and it would’ve been the loudest question of them all. Their gaze snaps to him traitorously before they can stop themself. He stands there expectantly, his voice recorder raised slightly towards them.

“My relation to them is that they’re a criminal,” they say carefully, a response well-practised, “and I am the person who will put them behind bars.”

That prompts a flurry of more questions, but the hero can only watch this one reporter. He nods, and they’re not sure if he’s trained to stay neutral or if he doesn’t believe them. Their stomach flips uncertainly.

“Can you really be the one to put them away if they keep evading you?”

The hero wants to smite him where he stands. They try to force a confident smile that probably looks more pained. “Then the victory will be all the sweeter when I finally catch them.”

“Are you helping them?”

There it is. The other reporters go quiet, curious. The hero’s aware they probably look like a cornered animal, but they can explain that away later. They were worried that the masses are losing faith in them, perhaps. They can throw a speech together tonight.

“Why would I be helping a criminal, sorry?”

“I’ve done some of my own research.” The reporter pushes his glasses up again as he looks down at his clipboard. “The villain’s getaway car looks alarmingly similar to yours.”

Another flip. Would it be bad to claim they have somewhere to be? They don’t have any answers prepared for this. The reporter’s watching them with an intensity that’s making them feel sick. Avoiding the question is worse, surely.

“It’s not my fault if [Villain] has impeccable taste.” They glance out over the sea of people, trying to seem distracted. Fuck it. Time to go. “Look, guys, I’ll answer everyone’s questions when I’m not actively chasing a criminal. Job first, interviews second.”

The hero flees like the fury of god is chasing them. They can feel eyes on them as they go, that little pain in the ass watching them the most intently.

They practically throw themself into their car, slamming the door like it’ll hide them from the outside. “Took you long enough,” the villain says from the backseat.

“Reporters,” the hero explains shortly. The villain hums thoughtfully.

“Always is.” The villain sighs, tearing their gaze from their phone and up to the hero. “What’s this week’s conspiracy?”

The hero turns the car on to ignore the question for a moment. “They think I’m working with you.”

The villain barks a laugh at that. “Can you imagine?” Their eyes turn back down to their phone amusedly. “A’ight, let’s get outta here.”

Gladly. The hero pulls out of the little alleyway, checking the streets for reporters, unexpectedly nervous, and onto the road. They always take the back roads like this. They don’t need any more reason for people to get suspicious. One reporter putting the thought in people’s heads is enough.

“Don’t get any ideas, by the way,” the villain pipes up after a bout of silence. The hero was quite content to listen to the rumble of the engine all the way back. “You work for me, not with me. Let’s keep it that way.”

The hero nods. The less they have at stake in this stupid little charade, the easier it’ll be to get the hell out at the first opportunity anyway.

[agaypanic]

Benny x female reader where he puts a love potion spell on her to make her fall in love with him but to his shock it doesn't work and take effect because she already loves him

A Faulty Love Potion (Benny Weir X Reader)

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Summary: Deeply in love with you, Benny uses a temporary love spell on you to feel what it would be like if you loved him back. But for some reason, you don’t act any different.

A/N: tbh i was gonna just link a benny x reader i already wrote that involves a love potion, but i figured this was different enough for me to write 

***

“Benny, are you sure you should be doing this?” Ethan asked as he watched his best friend cook up his latest concoction.

“E, it’s fine,” Benny responded, not taking his eyes off the bubbly mixture. “It’s a way toned-down version of the last love potion we tried, and this is only for twenty-four hours. Just enough for me to bask in the experience of Y/n loving me. Plus, once the twenty-four hours are up, she won’t remember any of it, so it won’t ruin our friendship.”

“Why not just ask her on a date or something? That would be way less trouble.”

“Sure, but this is way more fun,” Benny said, bottling the potion and holding it up proudly to Ethan’s view. “Ta-da!”

At school the next day, you found Benny hanging around your locker. It seemed like he was trying not to look suspicious, immediately making you suspicious of him.

“Hey Benny…” You greeted, wondering what he was up to. 

“Hey, Y/n!” He responded excitedly. You raised a brow before looking away to open your locker. 

“What did you do this time?” You asked, earning an offended and dramatic gasp.

“Why do you assume I’ve done something?” You gave Benny a knowing look, and he dropped the act, fishing around for something in his bag. “Okay, okay. But it’s nothing bad this time. Look!”

You glanced over to see a vial of glittery liquid in Benny’s hand. He handed it over for you to inspect.

“It’s perfume,” Benny answered your question before you could ask it. “It’s for science class. Wanna try it?”

“I don’t know. Does it smell rancid?” You joked, laughing at Benny’s adorable eye roll. “You’re lucky I love ya.” You laughed, taking the cap off of the vial. Benny’s heart skipped a beat at the statement, wishing you meant it the way he wanted. But soon you would, because you took a small testing sniff of the contents. Deeming it okay, you took a deeper inhale.

Benny waited for some kind of change in behavior; he thought he’d be able to notice the light love potion take effect. But instead, he watched you nod and put the cap back on.

“I like it. Good job.” You handed the vial back to Benny, who reveled in the contact of your hand touching his as you returned the perfume. “Kinda smells like you.”

“Me?” Benny asked curiously. Of course, the potion would make you think of him, considering it was made so you would fall in love with him. But he didn’t think that it would smell like him, or that you would recognize his scent. Benny wasn’t even aware he had much of a scent.

“Yeah.” You nodded, giving him a small smile. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s really good.” The bell rang, unfortunately cutting your conversation short. “I gotta go. See you later, Bens.” 

You shut your locker and walked off, leaving Benny confused.

***

Benny spent the rest of the day wondering why you were acting the same you did any other day. The potion should’ve worked. Even if it was toned down, he thought you would have at least had a noticeable change in behavior, whether it was small or not.

When he talked to Ethan about this, he was just told that he probably made the potion wrong. But Benny was sure that he did it right. 

The following day, Benny decided to tell you about his little magic attempt. After all, you’d forget about it once the twenty-four hours were up. He could confess, and then you’d forget it even happened, saving your friendship even though it meant Benny would have to suffer in silence again.

“Hey, Y/n.” Benny greeted you at your locker once again. He looked at his watch, seeing that he had five minutes to do what he wanted to do.

“Hey, Benny.” You responded, smiling at him brightly. “How’d your little science experiment go?”

“Fine.” He said, albeit a bit disappointedly. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Um… I kinda lied when I told you that was for science class.”

“Oh?” You looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

“That perfume was actually… a love potion.”

“What?” You didn’t sound mad, thankfully, just a bit confused. “Why would you lie to me about that?”

“Because I really like you… Maybe even love.” Benny looked at his watch again. Three minutes left. “And I wanted to know what it would feel like if you felt the same, even if it was just for a little while. But nothing happened; you acted just like you normally do.”

You should’ve been mad at Benny. He tried to make you fall in love with him, even though it was temporary. But instead, you laughed.

“Well, of course it didn’t work, Benny.”

“What do you mean?”

“I already love you, doofus.” Benny looked stunned by your casual tone. You set your hands on his shoulders and stepped closer, hoping to ground him. “Of course, I’d act the same.”

“You love me?” Benny asked, seemingly in some kind of daze. You nodded, and his hands found their way to your hips and pulled you closer to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t wanna ruin our friendship.” You answered simply, face heating up from being chest to chest with Benny. Benny’s lips gravitated to yours, kissing you somewhat shyly. You kissed back eagerly, although you tried to keep the affection tame as you remembered where you were. 

Suddenly, Benny pulled away, making you frown.

“You’re gonna forget all of this.” He whispered, tone saddened with the realization. You furrowed your brow, about to ask him what he was talking about, but he continued. “The potion will make you forget this happened once the twenty-four hours are up.” You must’ve been out of time based on how urgent he sounded.

“Then make me remember.” You said, and before Benny could ask for more clarification, you pulled him back in for another kiss.

When the potion’s effects had worn off, you pulled away from Benny confusedly. You were about to ask him what had just happened, but he interrupted you.

“I love you, Y/n.”

“What?”

“I love you.” Caught up in the moment, Benny kissed you once more. Although you were wondering why you couldn’t remember what had been going on, you reciprocated the contact.

“I love you too, Bens.” You muttered against his lips, your little display of affection soon being interrupted by the ringing of the school bell.

[morurui]

CHAOS THEORY SPOILER REVIEW

Cause I just finished it and I have thoughts!

Sooooo I honestly have mixed feelings about Chaos Theory if I’m going to be honest I feel like there are some things that worked in my opinion and some things that didn’t really work for me so I’ll be separating this review into three parts: Things I liked, Things I wasn’t a fan of, and General thoughts.

Things I liked:

-The animation was absolutely gorgeous, it was such a step up from Camp Cretaceous that it’s weird to think that they’re apart of the same series. The team behind it did an absolutely amazing job!

-The last two episodes. Oh my god were those last two episodes so good, they had me at the edge of my seat as well as episode 10 finally giving us interactions between the entirety of the nublar 5

-YASAMMY. I think yasammy was done so well this season. Their fight was so real, nobody was totally in the wrong, but they both weren’t communicating their feelings to each other well and they resolved it in the end. It was just perfect

-Yasmina Fadoula. She was written so well I loved how they didn’t just completely forget she has PTSD and anxiety and included that in her character arc for this season. I also loved how they used her to address how bad it is to infantilize those with mental disorders. (Yaz and I are anxiety twins 🧘‍♀️)

-Mateo. The GOAT. I am the number one Mateo fan, dont ever forget it. I love that man and I will stand by him, I was stressing for his life during episode 10.

-Microbang villain girl was such a menacing villain at the end and I honestly love her. It’s clear that while she is using the atrociraptors for evil deeds she does clearly care for them. I desperately need to know more about her…

-Kenji and Brooklynn’s new voice actors do such a good job with the characters and while I’ll miss Jenna and Ryan, their new voices were casted very well!

Things I wasn’t a big fan of:

-Now to address the elephant in the room…Darius being in love with Brooklynn. (I’m going to try to look at this through an objective pov, but since I don’t ship dinostar obviously there’ll be a slight bias)(nothing wrong if you do ship Dinostar I’m happy for you, but these are just my feelings) Im not a big fan of this. To me I’ve never really read Darius and Brooklynn as being romantic together and their friendship is something I truly cherished about JWCC. I do see why they probably decided to make the decision to have Darius be in love with Brooklynn, but to me it’s kind of upsetting in a way to have Darius’s extreme grief response not be just because they were best friends. It feels like the writers were saying “Well, he’s not experiencing this grief so hard because she was his best friend, but it’s actually because he loves her!”. We’ve seen loss be something Darius takes extremely hard (His dad’s death and Ben’s death) and so I don’t really see why they made it so he was in love with her to justify his response when it’s in character without it. Idk man…

-Brooklynn being alive….HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT. THIS IS NOT BECAUSE I HATE BROOKLYNN SHES ACTUALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS. But idk these fake out deaths are starting getting to wear me down. Even Bumpy had a fake out death 😭. I get why they kept her alive being as she is a beloved character, but I just think it would’ve been better for her to be a character that somewhat haunts the narrative. It adds more onto the mystery, not only that but it allows the nublar five to explore “Hey our friend was hiding things from us and we’ll never truly get answers, but we’re going to find out what lead to her death and put a stop to it”. Which was what the nublar five are on a path to, until Brooklynn inevitably shows back up and explains everything. Also why did they give her the 2017 Katy Perry haircut…

-Kenji and Darius’s dynamic. I loved how they used their dynamic at the beginning of the show with Kenji blaming Darius for Brooklynn’s death, but beyond that moment their dynamic felt off to me. It was not helped by the whole Darius being in love with Brooklynn thing, but it just felt like they toned down their brotherly bond in this show (ironic since this is the first time we see them call themselves brothers)

General thoughts

-Jesus Christ was Kenji this shows punching bag 😭. He literally does not get a break, it just keeps on coming, breaking up with his girlfriend because she’s not invested in their relationship anymore, living in a trailer with a failing rock climbing business, his girlfriend kept secrets from him all while working with his estranged dad behind his back, his dad trying to use him again and then dying saving him, AND his brother was in love with his ex girlfriend. All in the span of ten episodes. If I was him I would have a mental breakdown every single day.

-Do yall think Ben actually has a girlfriend? I’m like at a 70/40 split, because he only talks about her two times and the first time he brings her up she totally sounds fake. “She’s from…Europe” Why did you have to think so much Benjamin? Also he fully just said she’s from the continent of Europe rather than a specific country in Europe. Also also it’s implied he hasn’t had a phone on him for a while so how does a long distance relationship work if he doesn’t have any means to contact her??? And he doesn’t even have a picture of her in his van. That man is hiding something I need to know…

-Ben and Darius had like 30-40 minutes of screen time shared between them, which is weird because like most of the show was marketed with them being the main protags and they barely interact beyond episode 4. (Their dynamic was too strong for people to handle “do you talk to your mother with that mouth” broke the world)

-Bumpy having a baby is something I predicted and I’m happy I was right!

Anyway that’s really it, sorry this was pretty long and excuse any typos or grammatical errors, but these were just some of my thoughts!

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Out Of Depth (But We’ll Be Okay)

Summary: Clint Barton x Fe!Reader -> You and Clint have been having an intimate relationship and it’s been hidden from the rest of the team. But, what happens when Fate throws you both a curve ball and it can no longer remain a secret?

Disclaimer: Fluff, swearing, feelings of being completely terrified of life, Sam and Bucky being idiots. Ignoring Endgame and CW. Clint has never been married or has kids in this fic. Friends/Co-workers to lovers. FwB SMUT (description is brief in the beginning, so feel free to skip), mentions of unprotected sex (be safe, wrap it up) MDNI. IF YOU CONTINUE READING THIS, YOU ARE CONSENTING TO READING 18+ THEMES. THIS IS YOUR WARNING.

Clint was good at his job. 

He had to be. He had no other choice. If he wasn’t good, that meant he was bad and that could result in one of two things. Either, he’d get fired. Or, he’d die. If he was bad at his job, he’d prefer his exit to be the former of the two options, but when it came down to it, he wouldn’t really have a choice. 

But, he was good at his job. So, it didn’t matter. 

What he wasn’t good at, however, was being a dad. Or, at least, being told he was about to become one and not freak out about it. 

You had told him three days after you had found out yourself. 

You could remember it. Being stood in your bathroom until you saw the very pink double lines appear on the centre of the stick, which made you back up until you sat on the toilet seat and placed a hand to your mouth. 

At first, you didn’t know how to react. 

You and Clint weren’t exactly…together. 

It had started just over a year ago when, after some strange happenings on missions, you found comfort in one another. It was just simple and casual. No strings. Just sex. But you were friends. And co-workers. So, you were both incredibly careful. 

But then you remembered the night in the hospital. Well, medical bay. 

10 weeks prior, you’d both been on a mission that left you more than worse for wear. Stage 4 concussion, three broken ribs, the rest severely bruised, cuts and scrapes to the rest of your body and loss of memory for the first 24 hours. 

But, on your final check-up, you were left by the doctors, alone, in your room. 

During your stay, Clint had come almost every night to sit with you. Even helped you get to and from the bathroom when the lights were too bright and your entire body felt like it had just been hit by a 1000 tonne truck. 

Other nights, when he wasn’t helping you to and from the bathroom, he’d lie with you and you’d both sit and watch some crappy old movies that Clint had managed to find. Some were better than others, but even then, you’d both fall asleep half way through. 

But, after 10 weeks, you had your final check up and Clint came to see you. 

You both talked for a while, about what was to come. What missions would be given, when you were going to be put back into the field, what he had done to Natasha to make her so mad that she came to you to ask for help in getting back at him. 

And then he sat beside you and asked how you were feeling. 

“Like I want to get out of here.” you had answered honestly. “I just want to get back to normal.”

“And your head? You took quite the hit.” Clint pushed a strand of hair from your face so he could see you more clearly. 

“The concussion has gone but I still have a small headache.”

“You know, there are ways to get rid of that.”

You smirked, already having an idea on where Clint was going with this. “So, I’ve heard.”

“Maybe I could help you out?”

“Really? How so?”

Slowly, Clint moved closer to you before you continued to lie back until he was flush against you and the mattress where he slowly kissed your neck. 

“Well, there is the usual. Yoga,” a kiss, “Sleep,” another, “some weird tea that probably tastes like nail polish remover,” another kiss. “And then there's my idea. And, it technically hits two of the three.”

“Oh, really?” you laughed as he continued to press his lips against your skin. “And what is that?”

“I think you already know, baby.”

You smiled before his lips met yours. From there, your bodies took over. Your hands came up his side before pushing their way through his hair. His knee pressed between your thighs, teasing you ever so slightly. Meanwhile, his hands gripped at your hips pulling you closer as a moan emptied itself into his mouth. 

“Let me take care of you,” you heard him tell you before his lips moved back down your neck, leaving a trail of, come by morning, love bites in their wake. 

Usually, you were both so careful. But that night…that night you just wanted each other. Needed each other, even. You let him take care of you; his fingers pressing into your skin just hard enough to make you want more, his lips and tongue leaving marks across your body that only made it yearn for more, his knee pressing against you before he replaced it with his hand, his fingers curling up inside of you. All the while, he watched you curse underneath him, swear to God, swear to anyone who would hear your cries of pleasure. He felt your hands roam his body until he finally moved himself to your core where he felt your fingers and nails run themselves down the back of his head and neck, begging him for more. 

You climaxed twice before he entered you, and even then, you came again. 

He was the only man who had done this to you. Others, they had come close, but it was never like this. Clint took his time, teasing your body in ways you didn’t know would have you begging for him to the point where you felt as if it was going to last forever. 

And afterwards, he’d take care of you then, too. He’d wipe away any wetness from you before handing you a glass of water and helping you stand despite wanting to fall asleep in his arms there and then. By the time you’d get back from the bathroom, he’d hand you a t-shirt of his that just covered you - but still, if you weren’t both so relaxed, he’d take you there and then…again. 

And you’d let him. 

But that night, rather than using any safe measurements, it all remained unprotected. Something that would only come to your mind after being sat in the bathroom for an hour and half, staring at the two very pink lines on the white stick. 

It took you three days to initially come to terms with what was about to happen. Even then, you hadn’t fully accepted it. You were pregnant with Clint’s baby. And in 9 to 10 months, that baby will be born, hopefully healthy, and soon enough would be an exact share of your and Clint’s DNA.

On the fourth day, you went in search of Clint. And, you found him in his bedroom at the compound. 

After giving your knock, he called for you to come in. 

“It’s unlocked!”

The moment you entered, you locked the door behind you. 

“Clint?”

“In here.”

Tony had created a connecting room for him to practise against targets so when you entered he had his arrow drawn and released it on bullseye. 

“Hey,”

“Hey.”

“We need to talk.”

“I’m all ears.” 

You nodded. Mostly, his focus was on the targets so at least that made it easier not having to look him in the eye. 

“Okay, I’ll just get to it,” you took a breath, clasping your hands together. “I’m pregnant.”

The arrow that Clint had drawn and intended to go through bullseye once more…landed in the wall. 

“You’re…”

“Pregnant,” you nodded. “9 weeks, I think, at least.”

“When did…”

“Three days ago. I know, I’m freaking out, too.”

Clint looked back to the targets, not knowing where else to look. 

“I just thought you should know.”

Clint nodded before backing up and sitting down on one of the chairs beside the wall. 

“You’re pregnant?”

You nodded. “Yep.”

“And I’m gonna be…”

“Yep.”

“Huh.”

You moved to sit beside him. “I know. Believe me, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.”

“Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“You’re really pregnant?”

Sighing, you lifted your hips from the chair to pull the fresh pregnancy test from your back pocket. “Pretty positive.”

You handed him the test where he let out a small gasp, covering his mouth as he looked down at the two pink lines. 

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing.” you said. “And…if you don’t want to be involved, I’ll figure it out. But, I want you. I want you to be involved.”

“No, no, no,” Clint cut you off. Despite the fact he was in complete shock, something he was certain of was…”I wanna…I wanna be involved. If we’re in this, we’re in this together.”

You nodded after a moment. It was nice to have some support and know you’re not alone in your fear. 

Clint soon looked back to the stick before reaching over and taking your hand in his. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

You could see a small smile growing on his face, which mirrored itself on yours. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

A small laugh came from Clint’s lips before he pulled you closer into a hug, the pair of you looking at the double lines before he turned and looked to your stomach. You weren’t showing yet, but you would be soon. 

Gently, Clint lay his hand over your stomach before you placed both of your hands over his. 

“We can do this, right?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

It took a while to figure out how to tell people since they didn’t know you and Clint were together in the first place. But, one morning when Sam had woken up and found you in the kitchen, reading, whilst Clint cooked breakfast, he offered you a cup of coffee. 

Usually, you’d never turn one down. And always had it at full strength. 

Only, for the last couple of weeks, Sam hadn’t seen you with a coffee or even a beer on a Friday night. He also hadn’t seen you in the sparring ring for a while. Typically, you’d usually be against him or Clint and within seconds, you had them on the ground. That was a tactic neither of them could figure out. 

“Are you on a cleanse or something?”

“Why?” 

Clint looked over his shoulder to you, only to see your eyes focused on Sam. 

“Because you haven’t been drinking coffee or any kind of alcohol or caffeine.” Sam said before letting out a chuckle to himself as he poured himself a coffee. “Either that or you’re pregnant.”

Silence settled over the room and the moment you and Clint locked eyes, having a telepathic 

conversation between one another…Sam noticed. 

Confusion was the first thing he felt. Why on earth would you and Clint look at one another like you had a secret? 

“What? What is it?”

Clint tilted his head quickly. It was up to you. 

You nodded and turned back to Sam. 

“Actually…”

Sam put his coffee down and stepped back. “Wait, you’re…?”

“Pregnant.”

“Holy- Oh my - Holy shit.” Sam broke out in a smile before rounding the kitchen island and hugging you. “Holy shit, you’re actually- wow. Wait, who’s the-”

Then when Clint came behind you, laying a plate of food in front of you, and you looked at him, Sam took another step back. “Oh my God.”

“No-one else knows so, please, can you keep this to yourself for now?” You asked. “We’re still trying to figure out how to tell people.”

“I didn’t even know you two were, like, a thing.”

“Technically, we weren’t.”

“But you’re having a kid together?”

You nodded. “But, please, Sam, keep this to yourself for now.”

“Keep what to himself?” Bucky entered the kitchen. 

“Nothing.” Sam answered walking back to his coffee. 

Bucky, with narrowed eyes, made his way around the kitchen. His eyes barely left Sam. “Oh, come on, you can’t keep a secret to save your life.”

“I can.”

“Not with me. Took you all of five minutes to tell me that Jessica from accounting is having twins.” Bucky said before he saw a bead of sweat drip down the back of Sam’s neck as his eyes widened for a split second before looking at you. “Oh, my God. You’re pregnant.”

“How did you-”

“Told you. He can’t keep a secret from me. Also, you haven’t drunk a single ounce of coffee in, like, four weeks. So, it’s either that or you’re on a cleanse. And you would never give up coffee voluntarily.”

“Well, if you know everything, Einstein,” Sam turned to Bucky. “Who’s the dad?”

“Barton.”

You dropped your fork, finishing your mouthful before looking to Bucky with the expression of Oh, for God’s sake. How? Meanwhile, Sam seemed slightly offended and confused at the fact Bucky seemed to have the whole thing figured out. 

“What? She’s wearing his shirt.” 

You looked down and realised it was true. How had you not even noticed?

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. But, you should tell people soon or else they’re gonna figure it out. Also, you might want to add more ginger to your meals.” Bucky added. “It’ll help with the morning sickness.”

“How the hell do you know all of this?” 

Bucky shrugged, sipping his own coffee. “I had to help a woman give birth in a small town in Germany. When I came back, I figured it was more likely to happen so I read a couple books. I can lend them to you, if you want.”

It was safe to say you, Clint and Sam were more confused over Bucky’s hidden history as a midwife than your and Clint’s relationship and baby. 

“So, when’s your first scan?”

“Okay, this conversation’s too weird for me. Can we please change the subject?”

“Can we see the pictures when you do?” Sam asked. “I wanna see a picture of my nephew or niece. I call ‘favourite uncle’.”

“Who says you get it?” 

“I do.” Sam told Bucky. “We all know Nat’s gonna have first dibs at Aunt. I call Uncle.”

“What about me? Or Steve?”

“Steve’s everyone’s Grandpa. He gets that title.”

Whilst the two idiots in front of you argued over the title of ‘favourite uncle’ before eventually coming to the decision that the kid will decide, Clint had come behind you, taking your empty plate from you. 

“What do you say we make a run for it? Someone will find them and ask them what they’re arguing about. Let them tell the rest of the team.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Slipping yourself from the stand, you felt Clint take your hand in his before you both made a run for it out of the kitchen, down the hall and into Clint’s bedroom. 

Miraculously, you both managed to shower and get dressed, packing a small bag before making a run for it and not being stopped or called by anyone. 

Clint drove you both out of town for a couple of hours to a small town clinic. They were small enough to know that they were away from Shield’s radar as well as the Avengers. And, with barely any people in the waiting room, there were no people trying to report news over why you and Hawkeye were in a maternity ward. 

The doctor called your name and you and Clint headed inside where you lay on the bed and began asking questions about your health and when you think you got pregnant before covering the lower half of your stomach in cold gel and began the ultrasound. 

“One thing I will say is that you have to be careful. I understand the professions you two are in, but where you can, rest. Try not to lift anything heavy over your head as it can strain your lower back,” the doctor gave you both some more advice before they moved to find the baby’s heartbeat. 

“See this, right here?” you and Clint looked at the monitor. “That’s your baby and this…” a small galloping sound from the speakers. “is your baby’s heartbeat.”

As one hand lay below your head, your other was in Clint’s hand. Swiftly, he brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckle as you both watched the monitor and listened to the sound of your baby’s heartbeat. 

“Oh, my God.” It brought tears to both of your eyes. 

“I’ll get you some pictures printed off.”

“Thank you, Doc.”

“Clint,” his eyes didn’t leave the monitor until you looked at him. “That’s our baby.”

“That’s our baby.” Clint smiled back before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips before laying his arm around you, both of you looking at the monitor. 

The doctor handed you some paper towels to wipe the gel from your stomach before leaving the room for a moment to grab a couple of information pamphlets and other small things that would help you and Clint on your journey. 

By the time you got back into the car, you and Clint simply looked at the photos you had been given. From the pile, Clint tore one away and placed it in his sun visor.

The rest of the day, you and Clint drove around the small town, taking in a couple of the sights, eating at their ‘Number One Diner’ before hitting a couple of smaller stores, buying a couple of baby things. Thankfully, anyone that you ran into didn’t seem to have a clue who you or Clint were. Either that, or they simply didn’t care. That made it a lot easier to buy baby clothes and books. 

And, by the time the sun was setting over the horizon, you and Clint sat on the hood of his car, your laps covered by a checked blanket and a soda in your lap, Clint’s phone rang. 

“Who is it?”

“Nat.”

The moment Clint answered, Natasha was already speaking. 

“You’re having a baby and you left the members of Sesame Street to tell me?”

Clint turned to you, “They’ve blabbed.”

“Wow. Took longer than I thought.” You said, looking at your watch. 

“Is she with you?” Natasha asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Good, tell her I’m mad at her, too.” 

“Nat said she’s mad at you.”

“She’s mad at you, too.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find someone else to be this kid’s favourite Aunt.”

“Whoa, hey-”

“Guess we could ask Wanda?” you suggested. “Or maybe your Rookie?”

“Kate? Really?” Clint asked. “She is the closest in age to the kid. What about-”

“Hey, hey! Do not give my title away! I did not fight to save your life to have my title of favourite Aunt thrown to some Rookie.”

“You like Kate.”

“Besides the point.” Natasha brushed off. “That title stays with me.”

“What do you think? Should we let her?”

“Is she still mad at us?”

“I don’t think she can be if we give her the title.”

“Okay then,” you smiled before taking a sip of your soda. “You only get the title if you’re not mad at us.”

“Fine, hold on a sec,” in the background you heard Nat shout for Steve. “Rogers, be mad at Barton for me.”

“He threatened to take away your title?” you and Clint heard Steve laugh before the phone was passed to him. 

“Maybe.”

“Hey Clint.” Steve said. “Congrats, man. We’re all really happy for the two of you.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.”

“Just a word of warning, though.” Steve began. “Tony’s already started clearing a space out in the compound for a nursery so if you two thought you’d be moving out, I don’t think Tony will let you leave.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“What is it?” you asked Clint. 

“You know how we talked about finding a house?” you nodded. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Tony?”

“Yep.”

You smiled with a small chuckle. “Figures.”

Steve hung up soon after that, leaving you and Clint in your own little world for a while to watch the stars and moon settle over the land.

Over the next couple of weeks, time was spent between telling Shield and HR about what was going on and getting ready for what was to come. Hill gave you both a grilling but, off the record, she was happy for the both of you. Fury had done the same thing, fully expecting an invite to the baby shower. You had also been assigned to desk duty and advising from over Skype. 

Clint could see you were getting agitated so he pulled a couple strings to get you into teaching the new recruits. It wouldn’t be a job that would put you into danger and it would keep you busy just enough for you not to be completely bored. 

The nights you spent by Clint’s side. Each night you’d both ready a couple of the parenting books you’d bought from the small town outside the city or what Bucky had gifted. 

Neither of you had really talked about what your status was together. The nurses at the hospital had referred to Clint as your husband, something neither of you had corrected. Not that you had noticed initially. 

Even the team had questioned it at certain points, but never when you were together. 

So, as you sat beside one another, reading over the books that spoke about ‘mom’ and ‘dad’, Clint turned to you. 

“What are we?”

“I don’t know.”

“Me either.”

“Are we even meant to be something?”

“Well, we’re co-parents, right?”

“Yeah.”

A silence settled over you both for a moment before you placed a hand on your belly and spoke before looking at Clint. “We can do this, right? Be parents together?”

“Of course we can.”

“Then why do I feel so out of my depth?” you asked. 

Clint sat up, pulling you with him. “Hey, look at me. We can do this.”

“What if we screw up, Clint?”

Wiping away the small tears from your eyes, Clint gave you a smile. “Then it means we’re parents. They all screw up, right? But, if we can’t do something, we’ll just send the kid to one of their aunts or uncles. This kid has got a big family. At least we can give the jobs of Birds and the Bees to someone else.”

You laughed. “Like Nat?”

“I love her, but probably not.”

You laughed again, wiping away the tears from your eyes, your emotions coming back into check. “Yeah, probably not. We should keep Bucky off that list, too.”

“Agreed.” Clint nodded. “What about Pepper?”

“We should probably tag team her with someone. She’s a strong woman but this kid is half you, half me. If it’s not awkward to begin with, it will be eventually.”

“That’s true.”

You and Clint shared a laugh as he took your hands in his, keeping his eyes on you before he moved closer and kissed your lips. He brushed the hair from your face, your hand coming to his wrist. For a moment, he thought you were about to push him away, but instead you brought him closer. 

The months passed with pain and pleasure. 

The further you got into your pregnancy, the more the nights became restless and the pain spread across your body. However, the only thing that seemed to remain pleasurable was being able to make a start on the nursery and the fact that your morning sickness had worn off. But also, having Clint by your side, knowing you weren’t alone in your fear or excitement…that made it all a little easier. 

Natasha, with the aid of Bucky and Sam - who she sent on errands to keep them out of her way - planned the baby shower where you and Clint found out the gender of your baby and learned that Fury, Clint, Sam (by default as he and Bucky flipped a coin for which gender they guessed), Wanda and Yelena were the only ones to guess correctly. 

A baby girl. 

The moment the pink powder released from the target as Clint shot a single arrow to its centre, everyone erupted in cheers and shouts of enjoyment. 

Yelena and Sam rubbed their success in Kate and Bucky’s face, respectfully, whilst Hill handed Fury 20 bucks and Clint came to find you, hugging you tightly from behind and you looked with joy to the pink powder. 

“We’re having a girl.”

“We’re having a girl,” you confirmed with a smile. 

Eventually, your due date came…and passed. 

You were already on maternity leave, so your days passed slower than usual. Clint would come in and check on you at lunch and on his breaks. 

Your days were spent in uncomfortable pain, watching crappy movies and tv shows. Sometimes, someone from the team would come and sit with you and Sam and Bucky had taken a liking to Bake Off - it led to them sitting in the kitchen, baking sweet treats for you to try until you declared a winner. 

But, one afternoon, sitting outside with a book resting on your pregnant belly, watching the trainees run their drills on the ground, Steve came and joined you outside. 

“How are you doing, Momma?” 

You smiled as Steve stepped from the sliding door and sat at the end of where your feet were propped up on the sofa. 

“Eh,”

“That bad?”

You sighed, sitting up a little higher. “I love this kid, but I just want her out already. Come out, please.”

Steve chuckled as you held your belly and yelled in the hopes she’d hear you. 

She just kicked back. 

“As stubborn as her dad.”

“She’ll be here soon,” Steve smiled. “And you and Clint will have your hands full.”

“Can’t wait.” you said. “I like being busy. This,” you motioned around you, “I don’t like it.”

You and Steve sat and chatted for a while longer, mostly about the missions coming up and the books you had been reading. He’d leant you a couple which you had managed to finish in four days. 

But then…

You hissed in pain, holding your belly. 

“Whoa, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, just uncomfortable.”

Then the pain came again. “Ow, okay, no. That hurt. Ow!”

Steve sat up quickly, helping you as carefully as he could. “Come on, you need to get to the hospital.”

“I guess she heard me.” 

Steve laughed, and so did you - which only brought some more pain. 

“Clint, I need to call him.”

“I’ll call him on the way to the hospital.”

“He’s on the other side of town-”

Steve helped you inside, “He’ll get there. I promise.”

Then Bucky and Sam came around the corner. “Hey, are you okay?”

“She’s going into labour. Do you know where Clint put your hospital bag?”

“Bedroom, under the bed.” you told Steve who then gave the instructions to Sam and Bucky. 

“I’ll get the bag,” Sam shouted, running right before Bucky ran left. 

“I’ll bring the car around.”

“Steve, I’m scared.”

“I know, but you’re gonna be okay.”

Steve gave you a kind smile that reassured you of his promise. 

By the time you got downstairs, Sam and Bucky were rushing around like two headless chickens. Bucky hopped out of the driver’s seat and ran to the otherside, pulling the door open. Steve helped you inside before taking the keys from Bucky. 

“One of you needs to go and pick Clint up. Buck, take the bike.”

“On it.”

“Sam, go and find Natasha.” Steve commanded. “Let her and the others know what’s happening.”

“Steve!” 

“Okay, go.”

Steve jumped into the driver's seat before pulling out of the driveway and towards the hospital. On the way, he pressed a couple of buttons on the monitor inside the car, calling Clint. 

“Clint, listen to me, Bucky’s on his way to you.” Steve explained. 

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m going into labour! Ow, crap.”

“Oh, shit.”

“We’re on our way to the hospital now, just meet us there.”

“Okay,”

In the background, you heard the roaring of Bucky’s motorbike. He had to have driven through multiple red lights. 

“He’s here now. Honey? It’s gonna be okay.”

“Just get here, please. I’m not doing this without you. Argh, fuck.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Clint!” Bucky shouted. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” you replied. “Just get here.”

“Clint we’re pulling in now,”

“Okay, I’m on my way.”

“Barton!”

As you were rolled into the labour suite, Steve kept watch for Clint before he came barrelling around the corner, not fully aware of where he was going. 

“Barton!”

Clint followed Steve’s voice in a circle until he finally spotted him and ran down the hall to your room. 

“How is she? Is she okay? Is the baby okay? What did the nurses say? Is everything-”

Steve took Clint by his shoulders. “Everything’s okay. They’ve just broken her waters so she’ll be giving birth soon enough. I’ll keep the others out here.”

“Thanks, and thank you, Steve.”

“No need,” Steve smiled. “Now go to her.”

Clint gave a final smile before entering the room and rushing over to you. And you couldn’t have held him tighter. 

“I’m scared, Clint.” you told him as the midwife came in and told you you were ready to give birth. 

“I know, baby. So am I, but you’ve got this, okay? Hey, look at me.” you looked at him as he held onto your hand. “You’ve got this. I love you,”

“I love you, too.”

It was only now that you realised today, of all days, was the first time you’d both told one another the truth of your feelings towards each other. 

Clint pressed a kiss to your lips. “Stay with me?”

He nodded. “Always.”

“Okay, dad, help her up.” the midwife called your name. “When I tell you to push, give me all the strength you can muster, okay?”

You hummed nervously. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you wanted her to stay inside, for a little while longer. 

Clint held your hand the whole way through, pushing the stray hairs from your face and holding his arm across your back for support as you pushed and pushed and pushed until finally a cry rang out throughout the room. 

“You did it, mom. A beautiful baby girl.”

“You hear that?” Clint looked at you, smiling as he pushed the last couple of hairs from your face. “You did it, momma. She’s here.”

“She’s here? Is she okay?”

Clint looked over to the nurses and midwives measuring, cleaning and weighing your baby girl. “Yeah, yeah. They’re just cleaning her off.”

Clint had tears in his eyes as he looked back at you, pressing a kiss to your head and your lips. “You did it.”

Moments later, you were handed your baby girl wrapped in the blanket you and Clint had bought her all the way back when you had your first scan. 

Feeling her skin against yours, you felt your heart explode. 

Clint didn’t leave either of your sides once, looking down to his baby girl and the love of his life. 

“I love you, and I love her.”

“She’s so small.” 

A few hours later, you and Clint were sitting in a clean hospital bed, your baby girl in his arms as she slept. 

Wanda was the first to enter, Sam and Kate quickly followed behind before Bucky, Natasha and Steve followed suit. 

“Hey, can we come in?”

“Yeah, come on in, guys.”

“Hey, honey, how you feeling?” Wanda asked you, walking over. 

“Tired.”

“Can I see her?”

Clint carefully handed your daughter over to Wanda where Sam and Bucky stood around her. “She’s beautiful.” was the main repeated comment between the three of them. “And strong, too.”

“She gets that from her mom,” Clint smiled at you before looking towards Kate. 

“I brought you a couple things,” Kate told both you and Clint. “Figured everyone will be thinking about the baby, they’ll forget about you - and you’d probably forget about yourselves. So, your usual from Benny’s.” You praised Kate as a saint as she handed you the familiar paper bag. “Plus, a bag filled with every post-birth thing you could possibly need. Wendy has a Nurse-friend who has had, like, a gazillion kids, so she knows all the tricks of the trade.”

You smiled, hugging Kate. “Thank you.”

“Oh, and, Clint,” Kate handed him. “This is more for the baby, but I figured you could hold onto it for her until she grows up.”

Inside was a kid’s bow and arrow with an old, small carving in the top. 

K.B

And then underneath it, 

E.B

“Figured it should be passed down to the next generation of Hawkeyes,” 

Clint tried his best to keep his emotions in check as he smiled at the meaning of this gift. 

The bow and arrow that had once belonged to Kate now belonged to his daughter and when she was old enough, she could learn to shoot just like her dad. 

“Thank you, Kate. Really. This means…a lot.”

You rubbed your hand over his forearm before taking his hand in yours. 

After an hour, and lots of pictures, everyone else headed home and you and Clint were left with you baby girl, fast asleep in the hospital cot. 

“Our very own baby Hawkeye.” you smiled, leaning on Clint’s chest as his hand rested on the side of the cot, his eyes only leaving his daughter to look at you. 

“I never thought I could be this scared and happy at the same time.”

“Ditto.”

“We can do this, right?” Clint asked you. 

“She’s here now, we don’t have much of a choice.”

Clint chuckled and looked back at his daughter. “True. God, I can’t believe she’s here.”

“I know,” you smiled. 

Clint kissed the top of your head, holding you closer before looking at you. “I love you.”

You looked up to him and nodded. “I love you, too.”

Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before leaning his head against yours. 

“I know this is nearly 2 years, too late, but…do you want to get dinner with me tomorrow?”

You chuckled, smiling. “I’d love to.”

“Great, I’ll meet you here, 6 o’clock, Benny’s included? I’ll be the one sitting beside you.” 

Laying your arm over his stomach and leaning in closer, still smiling, you replied; “I can’t wait.”

Smiling, you could hear the thrill come from Clint’s heart inside his chest before he placed another kiss on your head and you both kept your eyes on your daughter. 

Your baby Hawkeye, Evelyn Natasha Barton.

[eeveleon]

something like inemuri

and so it starts hehe this event rlly is so motivating ShikatemaMonth24 - Daydream + Family Bonds

Read here on AO3

Temari turned the lights on to her room and immediately groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re still sleeping.” 

Her husband didn’t even bother opening his eyes. “Maybe I’m still tired.”

She sat down heavily next to him. “That doesn’t matter. You’re always tired. If I waited around for you to not be tired, I would literally be wasting my life here.”

“Tch.” Shikamaru scoffed. “You’re getting dramatic - spending too much time with Ino.” He blindly reached a hand out, trying to pull her closer. 

“You’re getting dramatic.” Temari retorted half-heartedly. 

Though there wasn’t really anything else for her to do until dinner time, so she let him drag her onto the bed and push her down on a pillow. Temari draped an arm around his chest, settling in. 

For a few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing resonating in the room.

Temari played with some hair that had gotten loose from his ponytail. “How was your week?” 

She was answered with a low, drawn-out groan.

“Troublesome.”

Shikamaru reached up to rub his eyes, moving his fists in slow circles. He took a deep breath as he began to recount his week. “The office is always behind on paperwork, but it went from bad to worse when some idiot submitted an unfinished draft for our trade policy with the Land of Calm Seas. Meetings delayed, discussions interrupted, all to track down and replace it with the real thing. But that was still shit, so I had to rewrite the entire damn thing, and then apologize to the Nagi officials for the inconvenience.” 

He let out a long-suffering sigh, as if even thinking about work on the weekend was exhausting - which for him, it probably was. “And this was on top of all the usual rubbish that goes on in the Tower.”

Temari hummed in response, using her fingernails to scratch lightly at his scalp, a favored act of his, from his frequent naps on her lap. Though, thinking about it, they hadn’t lounged on their back porch for a while now. She was busy with their family, home, and special jounin trainees, and his work days had long since bled into nights.

“Sounds like you need a real vacation then, huh.” Temari said as she got up, resting on her elbow. 

“Yeah, but with Naruto’s never-ending drama, I’m going to have to leave the village if I want a break.” He only half-joked.

“I’ve always thought that, once you retire from being the advisor, we’d move to Suna.”

“Retire?” Shikamaru snorted, a little sadly, folding an arm behind his head on his pillow. “Who's gonna let me retire?” He muttered bitterly.

Temari leaned closer to him. “I am.” 

Shikamaru gave her an odd look. Why would she be the one letting him retire? Temari was the last person on earth who would let him laze his life away - she wouldn’t even let him do it for a weekend. 

She covered his eyes with her hand and sighed dramatically. “Close your eyes, and imagine this.” She started, her voice lowering almost seductively. 

“We wake up in our room in Suna, around eight, eight-thirty-”

Eyes dutifully closed, Shikamaru made a noise of complaint. 

“- we have sex -”

He hummed, satisfied. 

“- and you go back to sleep.”

Cue a much more pleased sound. 

Temari tapped her fingers on his chest. “Meanwhile, I go back to work at my old job at the political diplomacy training office, yelling at and bossing around my subordinates. Once I’m done giving them a good scare, it’s twelve o’ clock and I come back to wake you up for lunch.” 

Shikamaru’s brow furrowed at the thought of getting up in Suna’s midday heat, but stayed silent. He’d gotten more than his usual amount of sleep. 

But Temari wasn’t done. She dug her nails into him lightly, scratching circles in his skin through his shirt. “First, we have more sex, then you make me lunch as I shower.” 

And Shikamaru couldn’t see anything wrong with that. Sleep and sex was a very enticing combination, and he could definitely make his wife some food after that. “Temari,” he mumbled. “That sounds really good.”

“Quiet, I’m not done.” She shushed him. “After lunch, I go back to work and you let Gaara pick your brain for solutions to the problem of the day. Don’t make a face,” she scolded. “It’s how we live for free - and you like having discussions with Gaara.”

That was true, he did like talking to his younger brother-in-law, as Gaara was harder to rile up than his sister yet more serious than his brother. They had had many thoughtful conversations over the years, both for work and just for their own entertainment. And Gaara was certainly a more reasonable Kage than Naruto. 

Also, living for free? That was a perk on its own. 

“Besides,” Temari continued. “I can’t let your intelligence rust away like that. Or do you think I’m with you for your body?”

“Definitely my body.” Shikamaru chuckled, followed by a laugh from Temari. 

“Yeah, maybe twenty years ago.” She punctuated her tease with a light slap to his stomach.

“Hey!”

She didn’t give him any more time to complain about that comment. “Shut up now, this is only half our day. Once work is over, I go and train with Kankuro for a few hours, maybe bully him and beat him up while I’m at it, the usual.” 

Shikamaru nodded, waiting for her to tell him what he would be doing during that time. He wasn’t at all surprised with her choice of activity. It seemed like the older she and Kankuro got, the more childishly competitive they got with each other. 

“Meanwhile, you go to that little park near the Council’s hall - you know, the one with the training ground? They have these tables set up for old people like you to play shogi on, so you camp out there and play a few games against your fellow elderly men as they leave their musty offices.”

“All this talk about my age.” He groaned, though there was no real aggravation in it, he’s still too pleased with the idea of spending half his day in bed followed by a late afternoon full of shogi. “Which one of us is older here?”

Temari pinches the side of his stomach, jiggling it a bit. “Remember when there was no fat here?” She retorted.

“Hey!”

“Anyways,” She went on without a care. “I come pick you up at around six. We take a nice walk through the town market - I can’t have you get too out of shape - and then go out for dinner at a different place than the day before.”

After a minute, when Temari didn’t say anything else, Shikamaru peeked an eye open. His wife was staring off into space, an unusually soft look on her face. 

“Temari,” he called quietly. “What next?”

She blinked and turned to look at him, the small smile growing into his favorite toothy grin. “Next? We take a much slower, long walk through the dunes on the east side of the village.” She laced her fingers through his. “We hold hands, talk about our day, make fun of each other, reminisce about when we were younger... then go home.”

“And then we sleep?” Shikamaru asked, closing his eyes again as he imagined this perfect scenario. 

All the day-dreaming was lulling him to sleep, and wife’s soothingly husky voice wasn’t helping for that matter. 

He felt Temari settle closer to him. “Well. First we have great sex again, and then we sleep.”

Shikamaru laughed, his eyes shooting open. Sleep, shogi, and sex. His wife really did love him.

Temari was smiling down at him, her loose hair obscuring some of his sight. “And the next day we do it all over again.” She finished, and closed the distance between them with a kiss. 

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body half on his. He sighed happily, murmuring in her ear. “It would be... amazing, to live like that. With you.” 

“It will be.” Temari corrected him, leaning above him again. “That’s going to be our future; I’ll make sure of it.” 

He loved the determination and commitment in her words. While he was more than happy with how their life was now, it felt good to know that she was planning for the rest of their lives already. 

“Of course, it’s going to be a looong while before it becomes a reality. And not just because of your duty to our dear Hokage.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Wanna know why?” 

Shikamaru blinked at her. He wasn’t sure if he liked that look in her eyes. In fact, he was hoping she would join him for the nap he was about to take - all the thinking and imagining had really tired him out. Still, he played along a little longer. “...Why?”

Temari pressed a finger to his lips. “Just wait and listen.” She rested her head next to his, and they lay in silence for 3, 2, 1...

“Mom! Ayuna is being a little brat again!”

“No I’m not! Dad!”

Temari shook her head at their children’s yells. “That’s why.” The fondness in her voice gave away her true feelings on the interruption, though. 

Shikamaru groaned, trying to sink deeper into his pillow. He should have known. His life had been going peacefully for far too long. 

His wife noticed his discomfort and just laughed. She patted his arm. “And who wanted to be a father?” She said mockingly.

“Temari, I love our kids. Very much.” He sighed loudly. “But you practically had me in a genjutsu for the past half hour, so I’m going to need a minute.” 

Temari threw her head back and laughed, obviously pleased with herself. She sat up and started to slide off the bed. 

“Take your time. I know I’m pretty powerful.” She shot over her shoulder, her hand trailing on the doorframe as she disappeared down the hall. 

Shikamaru stayed where he was sinking into the mattress, just listening to the distant sounds of his family’s chatter. He heard the back door to the porch slide open and closed as the laughter faded. 

All of a sudden, the urge to sleep for the next couple days wasn’t that strong anymore. 

Those dreams of a simple life weren’t so far away - they were just outside.

Shikamaru set his feet on the floor and got out of bed.

[writingwithfolklore]

Taking Notes from Editors

I did a post on giving and receiving feedback, but now that I’ve been an editor for a little longer, I’d like to do a follow up on taking feedback specifically from professional editors.

                While ultimately writers are the rulers of their work and can make the final decisions on it, there's a lot of growth in your manuscript to be found by trusting your editor and taking their notes. As an editor, it’s my job to make your work as good as it can possibly be. It’s also my job to maintain your style and voice and make sure everything you do best shines the brightest.

                We’ve studied and practiced this goal. So the biggest thing I want to impart on you is:

1. Trust your editor

Go into the process with the mindset that you'll accept at least 85% of the edits your editor suggests. When another editor works on my writing, I accept about 95% of it, sometimes %100 (for shorter pieces).

Writers sometimes get hung up on the smallest changes an editor tries to make. Be careful not to be too precious, allow your work to be explored from a different perspective and lens.

You can always keep a separate doc that has your original piece, it doesn’t go away or get ruined when an editor works on it. While it's your work in the end, it's helpful to go into it with an open mind. Often feedback you may have never considered is the key to really elevating your piece. Make some room for your editor's opinion and expertise, trust your editor.

2. Choose your battles

If you are going to reject a suggestion, I recommend it be something really worth going to bat for. Choose your battles, and choose only the biggest ones. You ultimately know your work best, so fight only for the stuff you believe is integral to keeping the same.

This will be an easier battle to win if you’ve already accepted the vast majority of other suggestions. Does it really matter if your main character’s name is Jolene or Veronica? Maybe not, so take that suggestion so you can afford to keep her queerness, or the subplot about her mother, etc.

But going back to the trust your editor idea, don’t think about it as a battle. We are not on opposite sides, we’re both fighting for the same thing—to make your work the best it can be. Respectfully acknowledge a suggestion you don’t like, give it a day or two to think on it, and then decide if that’s something you’d really like to advocate for.

As an editor, when a writer has a solid justification for rejecting a suggestion it helps me understand their work better, and builds trust between us.

3. It’s okay you’re not perfect

Sometimes as a writer receiving feedback, my impulse is to be embarrassed I’ve done something ‘wrong’. Then, of course, I go to defend myself or justify it or attack. We don’t like feeling threatened, and it can cause some high tempers and nasty disagreements in the editing world.

It’s really important that you recognize that impulse to defend yourself, and choose not to react to it.

By that I mean, if you feel yourself getting defensive over a piece of feedback—take a deep breath, don’t answer it right away. You don’t need to explain yourself. Think on it for a bit, just try it out. See what happens when you make that change. If you still hate it, think about why. If you’re just rejecting it on impulse, you’re probably in that “defend” state.

                You’re not being attacked, and you’re not a bad writer. It’s okay if you’ve made a decision that didn’t land, or a mistake that’s kind of embarrassing.

                As an editor, I can assure you that I don’t judge my writers. Ever. When I make suggestions, it’s from a pure ‘just trying to help’ standpoint, and I really appreciate when my writers are open to my suggestions and ideas and accept or reject my suggestions with friendliness and grace.

                I’m not a super experienced editor in any way, but if anyone has any questions about the editing process, the job, or anything else about it, I will do my best to answer!

Next post we're going to talk about when to reject a suggestion or feedback because the editor/reader isn't always right. Follow to catch that when it's out!

[the-20something-cat-lady]

An Open Letter to the Man Who Will Never Read It

I’m not sure what I’m trying to accomplish by writing this. And I have that sinking feeling that I still won’t know after everything has been said and done. Maybe this won’t accomplish anything, and it’ll turn my own life upside down. Regardless of the outcome, I know it really doesn’t matter at this point because my life has clearly gone down a road where we might not meet again. As of writing this, this is a truth I still need to come to terms with whether I like it or not. I can’t say that I haven’t had my eye on you. Granted, I had eyes almost everywhere, so people were keeping tabs on you whether I wanted it or not. And of course, I didn’t want that to be the case as time went on. I genuinely want to forget about everything that’s happened, but obviously I can’t because the purpose of this memoir is solely on our story during that point of our lives. I can safely say why I’m writing this, but I’ll probably never be able to answer the “what am I trying to accomplish with this?” because nothing really matters in the end. It happened, we can’t change how it turned out, and now we’re just living with the consequences of our actions. I’m sure you’re living your best life wherever you are, but as I write this, I’m just now starting to dig my way up from the hole I dug myself into. I’ve only recently started “living” my life, and that’s all because I decided to change jobs. Now, I have all this time to myself but with no clue on what to do about it. I have a few ideas on what to do, but so far, I’m at the “humble beginnings” stage of this new life I’ve carved for myself. It’s not so bad thankfully, but I know I could be doing better with myself. It’ll take some time, but I’m confident that I can navigate through this. I know I’m not alone in this life, and I’m fortunate for that. But this is one of those instances where I have to traverse alone because frankly, the ones that initially knew about our story have a genuine disdain for you. And rightfully so since your ass still owes me an apology. I’m still living life without it though so it’s not like I desperately need it to live. I’m not stating all this solely for the possibility that you’ll eventually find this and read it for yourself. This has been something I’ve been meaning to get off my chest and process it, and this just so happens to be the medium I decided upon to finally process this part of my life. Art has been ruined for me, and I can’t seem to pick it back up like I once did in high school. But writing seems to be my only safe haven that’s been untouched by expectations from an overbearing father. And if writing is eventually ruined for me, I know I’ll find another mode of expressing how I feel. It’s just time-consuming since I’d have to go through the trouble of seeing what works, cutting out what doesn’t work, and so on.

I guess this is just the long version of “this is my truth, whether everyone likes it or not.”

[mmjmmj]

Huskerdust ticklesss!!!! Lee husk if possible ;) please and thank you

(No pressure my darling!)

Ohohoho don’t worry my friend, Lee husk is DEFIANTLY possible!

Keep a note this is my first fic that I’ve wrote in 8 years so I hope he succeeded in making this the best fic I could possibly write so thank you! <3

Your fuckin’ ticklish?:

Hazbin hotel | tickle fic|

Lee!husk

Ler!Angel

Husk had seemed more moody than usual, mumbling under his breath as he worked, that negativity didn’t go unnoticed, especially to Angel dust.

Angel dust watched Husk work as the rest of the Hazbin hotel group spoke with one another, until the others began to conclude to do their own things such as Charlie and Vaggie going to their room to nap, Alastor manifested into the shadows and disappeared into thin air to go god knows where, Nifty running off to go clean the hotel some more and finally Sir Pentious slithered away to go work on some wacky invention. This left the spider sinner and the miserable looking bartender to themselves though the two were barely interacting.

Angel decided to break the silence between the two, walking over to the bar and sitting on a bar stool, resting two arms on the bar and resting his head on his hands.

"What’s gotten in you today?" Angel asked, he couldn’t help but feel a little concern for Husk as he usually wasn’t this groggy at all.

Husk had his back turned, cleaning a bottle with a cloth that he uses to clean everything with.

"What do you mean?" Husk grumbled, that response was very clear enough that something was wrong with Husk today.

"I don’t know, you seem.. how do I put this..? More grouchy than usual,you know? Is there somethin’ up" Angel asked, it was a surprise to Husk that Angel wasn’t trying to dish out little flirty remarks to the bartender.

Husk turned to Angel, reaching under the bar and pulling out a bottle that he had near by, taking a big swig before his black and yellow eyes met Angel’s.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Yeah bullshit, something was defiantly up and Husk just didn’t want to admit it.

"Is it because you been missing me Husky?~ cmon! You can admit it, you know." Angel grinned leaning over the bar a little.

Husk scoffed before turning away, he thought too soon about Angel not flirting with him.

"Oh fuck you." Husk hissed.

Angel’s grin faded a little, deciding now probably wasn’t the right time to be trying to flirt with Husk, seeing as he did not want to hear it.

"Are you sure you don’t need a break or anythin’? You’ve been on your feet for hours. Cmon, come have a seat." Angel offered, patting his hand on the empty barstool next to him.

Husk thought for a second, he was getting tired, mentally and physically, bartending is not a very easy job when you’ve been working without a break for a good few hours. Husk took the offer, putting his bottle down, making his way around the bar to sit next to the taller sinner.

"Fine but not for too long, I still have things that need to be done before I can finish work." Husk told Angel, having a break kind of felt wrong to him, he never really took breaks, he’d only usually take one if Charlie would pretty much force him too, seeing him work for too long wasn’t a nice sight for Charlie either, In this case it was Angel to made him take a break.

".. hey, are you not gonna pour me a drink before you take your break?" Angel asked, Husk immediately went to get up but was stopped by Angel, placing his hand on Husk’s lap and pushing him back into his seat.

"I was jokin" Angel assured Husk. Husk sighed and relaxed into his seat, this kind of felt very comfortable.

Angel’s next move was try and get in to the bottom of this case to see why his alcoholic friend was in such a bad mood today.

"So, are you gonna tell me what’s up? Bad day, or are you just not in the mood today?"Angel asked, crossing his four set of arms as he waited for an answer.

Husk’s eyes narrowed a little, he didn’t really like talking about things that was stressing him out or putting him down, but seeing Angel this concerned for him made him gave in to speak.

"I just.. didn’t really feel like working today.. that’s all.." Husk mumbled reaching for his bottle to take a few swigs before finishing his drink, practically slamming it back down on the bar.

Angel frowned a little, he didn’t like that, Angel knew how stressful it was not wanting to work but having to anyway, though the two’s line of work was completly different but still work is mentally DRAINING.

"Maybe you should start taking more breaks, your overworking yourself a little, I mean your up awake before anyone else is just to work, you deserve more then one break, you know." Angel gave Husk some reassurance.

"Works the only thing I know.. there’s nothing better to do anyway." Husk grumbled, that negativity quickly coming back, oh Angel did not like this at all.

"Ohhhh bullshit! There’s more to this afterlife then workin’ even I have days off, so should you!" Angel reached over and lightly scratched his fingers under Husk’s chin.

Husk suddenly pulled away, a soft little chuckle escaping his lips which he couldn’t hold back, fuck. The room went silent, Angel’s eyes winded as he pulled his arm back.

"What was that?"

Husk immediately tried to cover up, stuttering over his words as he spoke.

"T-that was nothing! You should really keep your fucking hands to yourself." Husk muttered, his fur stood a little out of embarrassment.

Angel didn’t know what to make of it, he never would have expected that reaction from Husk, he was expecting more a low like purr then a chuckle, then the realisation struck him, no there’s no way, is Husk ticklish?

"… are you fuckin’ ticklish?" Angel asked in a surprised tone, this made Husk panic and tried to cover it up, there was no way he’d live that down, nevermind the group knowing he’s ticklish but one person? That was enough for him.

"F-fuck no! I’m not fucking ticklish! I don’t know where you would get that assumption from!" Husk trembled over his words, the stuttering only made things worse for him.

Angel couldn’t hide that grin that was now growing on his face, standing up as he looked down on Husk.

"That assumption is coming from that little chuckle that came from you when I scratched that little furry chin of yours’ whiskers! I was expecting some purrin’ not some fuckin’ chucklin’." Angel purred, Husky stood up backing away a little from Angel.

"You know.. i really should be getting back to work thanks for the break but you can go n-" Husk was cut off when two long arms grabbed the bartenders wrists and pulled him to close to Angel, pulling them up and holding both hands above his head.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Husk hissed, tugging at his hands that were now stuck above his head.

"Well I’m trying to help you lighten up! And I think I found just the way to do that, Whiskers~" Angel cooed, Husk had felt his nervousness hit the roof.

"A-And how are you going to do that? Come on, Angel this is fucking stupid, let me go!" Husk begged, he could feel his fur puffing and standing up when Angel said he was trying to lighten him up, knowing damm well what was going to coming his way next.

"Well I’m gonna tickle the moodiness out of ya of course! Now let’s see a smile!" Angel rose his voice, his lower set of arms reaching out for Husk’s sides, starting off the tickle attack with some quick paced ticklish squeezes to them, this made Husk jump immediately feeling his knees go jelly as he tried to wiggle his torso away from the tickles hitting his body.

Husk tried to hold in those giggles that were building up in his throat, threatening to escape through his lips once they opened, shaking his head at what Angel said about seeing his smile.

"Ohoho? Not breakin’ yet? Not to worry! This tickle monster is gonna eat you all up!~" Angel playfully growled, drilling his fingers into the little pressure points in Husk’s sides. The teasing and drilling was the right technique to make the grouchy, old bartender break and let those giggles slip through the passage that was now his open mouth.

Husk squealed out, beginning to giggle away at the ticklish sensations that were refused to leave his sides.

"A-Ahahahahahangel! You fuhuhuhuhuhuhucking bahahahahastard! Stohohohohop this!" Husk giggled away, his laughter sounded so different to his normal voice, Husk’s voice was low and raspy, his giggles were way more high pitched.

"Awww look at that! Looks like you’re just not some old boring bastard after all! Your a adorable little kitty!" Angel continued with the pet names, this actually made Husk feel his face burn up from embarrassment, Angel was tickling him and teasing him?! This was fucking heaven torture

"Dohohohohohohohont fuhuhuhuhuhucking cahahahahall me thahahahhat! Quhuhuhuhuhuit it!" Husk tried to sound serious but the tickling was preventing that, making the former overlord sound all silly and giggly.

"Quit it?" Angel asked

"We’ve only gotten started how c- oooooooh I see what the problem is, you want me to tickle somewhere else, don’t ya? Make my little whiskers laugh till all his problems have faded, that’s what you want, don’t ya?" Angel cooed, his fingers began to move up to scribble into Husk’s armpits, earning a now sharp squeal from the shorter sinner.

"EHEHHEEHEK! T-Thahahahahhaahahats n-nohohohhoot whahahahhat I fuhuhuhucking meant!" Husk whined; Husk was actually fucking whined! Seeing Husk like this warmed Angel’s heart up to the touch, circling his fingers on Husk’s armpits with enjoyment, Angel was definitely gonna have to do this to husk more often.

"Then what did you mean hmmm? It seems like to me you’re already enjoying this too much! Listen to that handsome laugh and how big that smile is! You’re adorable!" Angel teased, succeeding in making Husk get more flustered by the second he spoke, already aiming for a new spot, his wiggly fingers traveled down from Husk’s armpits to that soft, white furry tummy of his.

This made Husk shriek, immediately falling weak to the tickles. "FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK AHAHAHAHAHANGEL NAHAHAHHAHAT THEHEHEHRE!" Husk begged, Angel went down with Husk, pinning the overlord to the ground, seating himself on his waist, letting his fingers do the work as they squeezed, scribbled and prodded away at Husk’s tummy like there was no tomorrow!

"Awww did I find a sweet spot? I think I diiiiiiid~ coochie coochie coo, Husky!~" Angel couldn’t help but laugh along with Husk, finding Husk go from the grumpy old bartender, to a now happy little ticklish kitten at his mercy to his wiggling fingers was adorable to him.

"IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAHHAD! CUHUHUHUHUT IT OHOHOHOHOUT!" Husk shrieked out, cackling away to the tummy tickles.

Angel wasn’t that evil as a tickle monster, so he decided to give Husk a break, not wanting to completely destroy him… yet.

"There I stopped, now catch ya breath before I resort to let my claws tickle away at that tummy again" Angel purred, letting the bartender catch his breath.

"Ohohoho f-fuhuhuck.. t-that was ruthless.." Husk panted out, though husk was exhausted already a little sound could be heard rising from the back of his throat, Husk was purring!

Angel’s eyes widened, not expecting this at all from Husk, this to him was fucking adorable. "Are you fuckin’ purring?!" Angel exclaimed, Husk’s fur stood proud as his face now burned up with blush as he panicked to try and cover it up.

"N-no I’m fucking not purring, your hearing things!" Husk claimed, uh huh, his purring was still very loud and could be heard.

"You like this don’t you?" Angel purred, Husk became a lost for words, the room quiet, the only thing to be heard was Husk purring uncontrollably and loudly.

"Awww, don’t be embarrassed! That’s adorable!" Angel teased, giving a few pokes to Husk’s tummy. Husk giggled through purrs, trying to suck in his tummy.

"Shuhuhuhut up!" Husk whined, finding this all very overwhelming to comprehend. Angel retreated his fingers, a big playful looking grin on his face as he stared into the bartender’s eyes.

"Alright your break is over! Let’s get back to tickling this very ticklish tummy of yours, shall we~? alright imma count to 10 and when I finish countin’ I’m gonna make you shriek!" Angel cooed, his fingers twitching in anticipation.

Husk could not argue with any of this, feeling unable to get the words out, if he tried to speak he would just be a flustered, stuttering mess.

"Ten… nine… eight.. Seven.." Angel began to countdown, lowering his now wiggling fingers to Husk’s tummy, slowly, threatening to tickle him with every inch of his life.

"Six… five… four… three two one!" Angel counted down to end his counting, his hands’s shoot down and squeezing all over Husk’s tummy, making him shriek loud enough to possibly shatter a window.

"NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHNGEL! EHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!" Husk screamed out, cackling away once more, kicking his little legs under Angel desperately, trying to get free, though he was actually enjoying this, but there would be no way he would admit that.

"Awwww listen to that laugh! Such a handsome little kitty I have here, don’t I?" Angel teased, his wiggling fingers scribbling up and down Husk’s tummy, making it quiver and suck in, trying to get away from those evil fingers that were attacking it with tickles.

"EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEK! THIHIHIHIHIHIHIS IS FUHUHUHUHUHUCKING EHEHEHEHEVIL!" Husk whined, his face burning up with blush, squeezing his eyes shut hoping this would make the tickles more bearable, which didn’t work at all.

"We’re in hell! Course this is evil! You’re my little victim who can’t escape out of my web! Meeeeow~" Angel cooed, now laughing along with Husk once again, having too much fun with all of this.

Angel’s fingers scribbled all over Husk’s tummy with pleasure, making Husk wheeze out and cackle away under the wiggling fingers that were attacking him, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, unable to take this anymore.

"EHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHHAA OHOHOHHOHO PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! MEHEHEHEHEHEHERCY! MERCY! NOHOHOHOHHOHO MOHOHOHORE STAHAHAHAHAHAP!" Husk begged, Angel immediately stopped, not wanting to push any boundaries, letting go of Husk’s wrists.

Husk was a messy, flustered pile of giggles, giggling away as the purring came back straight away. "Ohohohohoho f-fuhuhuhuck.. t-that was brutal." Husk huffed out, Angel reached out and rubbed his hand on Husk’s tummy, helping him get rid of the phantom tickles that was still attacking his tummy.

"I’m glad you had fun too." Angel winked, knowing damn well Husk enjoyed all of this.

"O-oh s-shut the fuck up.." Husk whined, his purring rising louder from the tummy rubs, Angel was being very caring for Husk and you know what? This was actually cheering him up.

"Do you plan on going to work or are you gonna call it a day?" Angel asked, cocking a brow in question.

Husk calmed down a little, feeling capable to speak properly without stuttering now. "I’m.. probably gonna finish my jobs tomorrow now" Husk told Angel, Angel nodding in approval to that answer.

"Good… hey, since you’re not working now, would you wanna.. maybe go back to my room and watch a movie or somethin’?" Angel asked, standing up off of the bartender and reaching out to help him up.

Husk took Angel’s hand and stood up, he couldn’t help but smile, feeling very much cheered up, all thanks to that spider.

"I… I would love that.." Husk told Angel, which earned a big smile back from Angel.

"That’s great, cmon! Let’s go, I have a good taste in movies!" Angel claimed as he grabbed Husk’s hand and began to drag him to his room.

"Only if you’re not talking about your movies." Husk joked, earning a snort from Angel.

"Nah of course not!" Angel giggled, feeling very happy that he cheered up Husk, he was defiantly going to do this again if he catches his favourite bartender down in the dumps again.