#sometimes I just gotta draw something quick and dumb

[itsphantasmagoria]

Absolutely can’t post this without the music that will be stuck in my head for the next two weeks

I love when I come across a prompt that speaks to me (thanks frotcott lol)

[kafkasgirlhood]

hello!!! first of all how are you? how was your sunday?

second of all, do you have any tips for like “opening” your mind in a way for more open deity communication?

hiyaa! unfortunately today wasn't really great , i'm emotionally exhausted sighh but I've been drawing in front of apollo's candle so i'm feeling better!

secondly! that is a very good question!

sadly , i fear my own mind isn't too open and i'm working on it myself , but i can tell you what i'm doing to try and help! really long post so i'm putting the cut

meditation

i know :(( meditation is really difficult for me too sigh hashtag neurodivergent , but i find that the more i do it , the easier it's getting to get into a receptive mindset ^_^ and sometimes, they'll communicate with you in this state!

just talking to them

this is a surprising answer that i didn't think really worked much but surprisingly , it works ! i'll explain. the more i've begun just ... sitting in front of something i associate with a god and yapping about my day and whatnot , the more i seem to be getting answers. this is usually through my own claircognizance ( which i've asked hermes and apollo to help me out with , also i'll talk about developing clairsenses in a bit ) but aside from that , i get a thought right after i talk about an issue of mine. and these thoughts are normally what the deity is trying to communicate. for example , i vented to apollo about how dumb i feel for being so sad today , and i immediately had a thought come to me. "you are human , you cannot fault yourself for feeling human emotions on human terms." and i think it's a bit clear that was him. sometimes these thoughts come to me in first person rather than second person, but that's also okay and still valid because it's still the deity planting that thought in your head. but isa , you say , how do i know if these thoughts are from the deity or they're just me gaslighting myself? i suggest you do a little exercise for this. think a thought real quick. do you recognise what your own "voice" sounds like? whenever you have these thoughts, does it sound like "your voice"? little something to pay attention to. at first, it'll be hard to tell ( i'm really new to this method of communication so it's hard for me too don't worry ) but with time and practice, you'll be able to spot which deity is giving you those messages! also i suggest researching the ways specific deities tend to communicate, because this method is very recurrent for apollo specifically. he tends to communicate internally, so like, his blessings will seem like your thoughts! other deities also communicate like this , so just check it out!

tarot

this is difficult if you don't have a tarot deck but i'll include it anyway. again, what you gotta do here is practice. it'll get easier to communicate with them if you keep doing it. with time, you'll learn to just spot which deity it is based on how they're picking the cards

other divination methods

there's many different types of divination! shufflemancy, aeromancy, candle divination, cartomancy ( similar to tarot but with playing cards! ) , divination with dice... etc etc etc! i suggest looking into them. try as many of them as you can! one common mistake i see newer pagans making is they stick to one type of divination, don't do that! it's always good to broaden your horizons, and to have access to divination whether or not you have tools on you!

automatic writing

i'll admit, i haven't tried this too much. i tried it with erebos a while ago, and all i basically got was that i was not yet ready to use this type of communication, at least not with him. but basically, it's when you enter a meditative / receptive state of mind , and write down anything that enters your mind. any images you see, any thoughts that occur to you, any random conversation tidbits that come back to you. anything you hear, anything you smell, anything you feel. do not try to make sense of it as you write, just write it and decipher it later. again, i tried this and was basically told "whoa buddy this is a no-go zone!" so i can't help much with this , but i suggest trying to research it yourself! one thing i should mention about automatic writing is you don't have to write with a paper and pen! you can type on a laptop or on your phone if it's easier, or you can even speak verbally! whatever's easier for you

clairsenses

i really point you to this post for some definitions on clairsenses and some exercises to develop / train them! for me i've really just asked hermes and apollo to help me out with it , been praying to them for it and giving offerings specifically for it ( while training ofc ) and it's been working really well!

dreams

now again, i can't help much here, because i haven't experienced many communications through dreams. the only communication i've had through a dream was when i asked aphrodite if she would accept my request to work with her and she decided to give me a sexual dream as a "yes" because i asked for an obvious sign ... sighs shakily ... anyway, i suggest inviting them to come into your dreams, explicitly give them permission, and let them know that you'd like them to communicate with you through dreams!

external signs

so everything i just mentioned is mostly internal ( save for divination and tarot ) but externally , you can also rely on signs! any birds that are associated with your deities, any food associated with them, songs you associate with them, etc etc etc. here's a really recent example with lucifer. but external signs are a bit finicky, in the sense that it's easy to mistake even mundane things for a sign. so i suggest the three times rule! if it's happened three times, it's a sign ( unless it's particularly obvious like my dream encounter with aphrodite and the lucifer example ).

honestly, to open your mind to communication more, i'm gonna hold your hand when i say this... you gotta practice. whatever method you decide to use ( i suggest more than one ), you gotta practice it until it becomes easier to do. gotta get your mind used to the divine!

i hope this helps , i always love your asks <33 good luck!!

[coral-melon]

Ohh could i get an obey me matchup if u have time? :D

Appearance: i’m afab, tall but skinny like a noodle, still have curves tho. i have light brown hair and dull blue eyes i’m pale af and have a slightly larger than average number of moles. i have had purple under-eyes since i was 12 they are never going away

Personality: professionally i’m doing well but every other area of my life is in shambles lmfao. still live with my parents can’t drive depressed as hell and barely any relationship experience💀i hate responsibility but i’m still responsible because i hate letting people down. i make a conscious effort to always meet deadlines and show up to meetings on time and it bothers me when other people don’t. but still i’m pretty lenient with others and give them the benefit of the doubt. i am fairly whimsical and quite unbothered by everything. not afraid to push boundaries and attempt things no one has done before, when ppl tell me my goals sound unrealistic it just motivates me more

Strengths/weaknesses: good at drawing and school, graduated college with a 4.0 gpa and a bunch of honors and stuff, and i am the creator of several viral posts and quizzes. good at taking advantage of opportunities that come my way. and i can see humor in everything i love to laugh. i’m kinda irony poisoned and struggle with sincerity, but i’m also an open book i don’t rly have anything to hide. i always talk pretty casually with people no matter who they are but i get away with it cuz i’m smart and good at my job or something. i may come across as impulsive but i do think through everything i do and say, i’m just a fast thinker. i’ve been told i’m too trusting but i haven’t been hurt yet sooo idc ^_^

Likes/dislikes: i am fan of any kind of creative hobby. i like being in nature and interacting with animals but i’m also a pwetty pwincess who hates getting dirty. i hate doing chores and paying for stuff too 💅🏻 i avoid drama and conflict like the plague, though i enjoy it as a spectator. and i hate office jobs, specifically because i work very efficiently then have to pretend to be productive for my dumbass boss when i finish everything early. i love to hang out with people even if it’s something boring like running errands. for some reason people think i don’t like hugs or texting but i do :( i constantly crave novelty i love new experiences

Other: when i really like someone i’ll take an interest in their interests and memorize every little thing i learn about them to the point where i gotta play dumb sometimes so i don’t sound overly invested. we would probably have to have a strong friendship as a foundation cuz u gotta be patient with my repressed ass. i don’t have a lot of preferences for dates so i’d be happy doing whatever they want, i’m v indecisive so it would be good for both of us if they like taking the lead

- 🦝

Hello -🦝! Thank you for taking the time to introduce yourself, it a pleasure to meet you! ^^

This felt really fun for me bc I already had a few silly hc in mind for you, so I hope you enjoy!

I match you with…~

꩜ Never a dull moment when your around him.

꩜ The two of you are a funny duo, to say the least. If it were possible, it would be like you taking care of a leash kid.

꩜ Not to worry, with this jackass over by your side, he will make you forget about your depression with his bullshit and shenanigans! That’s right, The Great Mammon himself! >;D👍✨ ((plz don’t take this too seriously..))

꩜ When it comes to you, he might as well not have any experience either. When others look at you, sometimes they think you’re the one who knows the ropes even if that’s not the case at all.

꩜ He’s supposed to keep an eye on you, but the fact of the matter is that it got twisted real quick and you ended up responsible for him instead. You keep him in check when it comes to his studies and duties he must finish. Oh what’s that? Sike! Even if you didn’t want to, he’ll beg you to help him out before Lucifer catches a whiff that he failed a test for the 1738929th time.

꩜ You’re motivated to want to improve yourself, so why would t you want the same for those you care about? No matter how hopeless someone is, surely there’s always a way!

꩜ Doesn’t matter how much he tries to hide something he did wrong though, Lucifer knows way before he himself does. So you’ll often see him upside down hanging from a ceiling. He temps you first before resorting to begging you to help him out again.

“Are ya takin’ me seriously, human?!”

— “Pfft- Yea yea of course!👌” nah, not really

꩜ As time passes by though, he starts catching your drift slowly without being told what to do. Simply wanting to get your attention and praise is enough to have him determined to want to do better. So in a way, both of you help each other out to get yourselves organized; May it be your actions or mental state. Thriving forward because of it.

꩜ He appreciates you never me giving up on him, thinking about it makes him soft and weak.. He’ll never admit it though! Not the Great Mammon himself! Not in a million years! Pretty obvious tho..

꩜ He, too, is an open book; not on purpose though. He tries to hide it but ultimately just reveals even more.

꩜ But It’s funny watching you two play dumb with each other when it comes to the other’s interests. He is just as invested in what you like — or perhaps even more — like you are with his.

“Oh, you like -insert hobby-? Ha, lame!” *Proceeds to look up everything there is to know about it*

꩜ Lovely to know you like to hang out, cuz best believe this guy is stuck to you like glue. He might try to come up with an excuse as to why he just barged into your room or sent you some random message, but it’s all bs. He just wants to be with you even if there’s no reason. He just really enjoys your company.

꩜ On days he gets paid, He’ll say he’s feeling generous and willing to spoil indulge you a bit. You better be grateful to the Great Mammon! Whenever you go shopping, he’ll keep an eye out for anything you might glance at, even if it was just for a brief moment.

꩜ And even if it’s rare coming from you, he’ll immediately sense if there’s greed coming from you. So he’ll buy you whatever it is that you want so badly! *cough* you just glanced at it.. *cough*

End

I hope I was able to make you smile

Take care -🦝!✨

[teamrocketmemes]

[ LUXIEM 1ST ANNIVERSARY ] PART 2 

In honor of Luxiem’s first anniversary, this is a sentence starter from this Vox Akuma VOD where they reminisce about old phrases they all have said in a game format. I’m taking both the phrases discussed specifically as well as other funny quips said during the stream. Content warning for mild language. Feel free to change pronouns if necessary.

“He’s preparing a feast for the eyes.”

“I just honk–”

“I turn into xQc when I’m drunk…”

“I just want a tiebreaker.”

“Farting in the Houses of Parliament should be allowed.”

“I’ve never heard this person say it but I know who it is.”

“I need to mega brain this.”

“I wanna give him an extra point just for that!!”

“He got style points.”

“Get in that chair, boy. I’m gonna start twerking.”

“It is a collab.”

“I’M TAKING THE BAIT!!!”

“All of the wise cracks and everything, [name] is giving us none of that because his raw concentration goes into his art.”

“Some letters are just impossible to draw with a mouse.”

“I keep on getting jebaited.”

“Half a sus.”

“Man, I hate being the host. I can’t draw amoguses.”

“Maybe I’ll treat you like my homework, slam you on the desk and do you all night.”

“How do you keep coming up with thess elaborate art pieces??”

“I think he’d make a great fun uncle one day.”

“Everyone knows about this. I regret it. I blame Hetalia and Tumblr. Let’s move on.”

“You may not repent for your sins. The internet is forever.”

“I definitely didn’t come up with this.”

“The slow fade in… Of the monkey…”

“I’m just a stupid boy and I’m learning.”

“I need the originator.”

“I don’t know if [name] is thinking or drawing or both at the same time.”

“I love that this implies he can’t do both.”

“He’s commissioning somebody to draw this for him.”

“There’s no way I could come up with something that hilarious on the fly.”

“Much to my dismay, I am cockless.”

“I had to restart my whole canvas. It was lagging.”

“This man is acting as though paint has layers.”

“This man needs to put his ambitions aside for the good of the game.”

“Oh yes, papi, skin me!”

“What does papi even mean??”

“It’s their equivalent of the word Daddy.”

“If this is me, I’m going to eat my own toes.”

“We pronounce it in the most dumb way you can imagine.”

“I reverted back to… My mind.”

“We gotta express ourselves through paint.”

“What we’re witnessing right now is [name]’s schizophrenia zone.”

“Wait— This is not what the Tactical Nuke icon looks like.”

“Is that a chair or is that a toilet??”

“If Santa isn’t real, who fucked my wife??”

“Aren’t you scared of some guy coming in your house??”

“No, because he was getting me a Nintendo.”

“He never gave me a loving family.”

“Do you need to have a conversation with somebody?? Are you ok??”

“I keep screaming but God won’t answer.”

“This sounds like Grade A dodging the question.”

“I mean, no one dodges better than [name].”

“I gotta fix my work real quick.”

“I literally found out recently why you can’t see Santa Claus.”

“He knows when you’re awake.”

“Is that your thought process??”

“Booba booba booba.”

“He’s forgetting his own history.”

“Burning hotter than YOUR MOM.”

“Is this a bait??”

“It’s always guys from Birmingham.”

“He’s very delicately flicking [name]’s hair.”

“It makes sense number-wise but in practicality not so much.”

“I mate sometimes. I’ll mate you.”

“OOOOOOH I thought it was talking about chess.”

“I’VE NEVER SEEN IT IN ENGLISH.”

“Lick me and let me explode inside your mouth.”

“I panicked and I gave you guys the answer.”

“READING A LINE FROM A GAME ISN’T MY QUOTE.”

“My people have a saying… Live laugh love.”

“Live laugh ligma.”

“You’re not doing the Krabby Patty thing.”

“WE’RE FROZEN!! THEY CAN’T SEE HOW DISAPPOINTED I AM!!”

“I’m so glad that I destroyed [name]’s mood.”

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

You Can Hear It In The Silence

Summary: Sneaking around can be fun, but sometimes the silence is just too quiet, or falling in love with your best friend. 

Pairing: Spencer x Fem Reader (SMUT) MINORS DNI 

Word Count: 3.7K 

Warnings: Smut Minors DNI (It’s smut, nothing kinky but very romantic and soft) oral (both receiving), kissing, lovebites and tame scratching, penetrative sex, unprotected sex in a committed relationship(like last time, let me know if I missed anything) 

Author’s Note: Minors please DNI, I have a lot of other fluff pieces that are totally acceptable for you guys to read. I hope that this isn’t too schmaltzy because that just gives me agita. This is based off You are In Love by Taylor Swift and maybe a little bit of Dress

You Can Hear It In The Silence 

It’s a blurry line, going from best friends to dating. There’s nothing like playing that dangerous game of stolen glances and surreptitious touches in a dark room. Eyes ranking over figures decked out in soft cardigans and tweed blazers or black dress pants and silk blouses, desperately wanting to see more, touch more, taste more. The senses could only sated for so long before the desire for more bubbles to the surface. 

Across the table, Spencer watches as Y/N sips the red wine JJ brought over. It’s hard to not watch her; to not completely hone in on the way her eyes are light with laughter, or the way her hair cascades down her shoulder, blending into the dark green color of her dress. Spencer kills himself trying to not look at her because he knows if he does, he’s done. Or rather, he knows that if he lets himself love her openly, he’ll only end up hurting themselves. So, he sits there, in Derek’s backyard trying to pretend that he’s not staring at Y/N. The only thought that comforts him is holding on to the idea that Y/N is doing the same thing. He supposes that’s what happens to relationships that blossom from the shadows of secrecy. In their attempts to not hurt others, they end up almost destroying themselves. 

He decides to pretend to find Garica’s cuckoo clock fascinating. He stares at the wacky colored birds and swinging arms entirely too long. In the corner of his eye Spencer watches the next couple of moments unfold. JJ and Garcia drunkenly bounce over to Y/N; they put their arms around her in a fit of giggles and smiles. Garcia’s arm extends around JJ’s neck and she lets out a loud announcement for a “Selfie” or rather what Spencer can only assume is a photograph of the three of them. The phone, even though Spencer does have some disdain for the invention, sure does serve its purpose. In all the light rays bouncing around and the blinding flash, pure magic happens. Spencer is aware that it makes him sound like a total sap, but he’s jealous of the phone. He’s jealous that his eidetic memory may only allow him to remember the Y/N’s notes in the margins of her case file or the annual “Happy Birthday, Genius” on a Hallmark card once a year. What he would give to just be able to capture her in the light of company, not hanging on to fleeting memories in the shadows.

Lost in his thoughts, Spencer does not notice an unusually drunk Unit Chief wandering over to the empty chair next to him. All of his awkwardness, Spencer is not sure if he should acknowledge his drunken boss or stop staring at his secret girlfriend. It’s at time like these that Spencer resorts to reciting Crime and Punishment or 100 Years of Solitude either seem ironically appropriate. 

“Reid,” Hotch says, leans in close, far too close for the usual uptight and business-like Aaron Hotchner that Spencer has grown to know. 

“Hotch?” Spencer answers, his voice laced with trepidation and anxiety. 

“You gotta stop staring at Y/L/N. You’re gonna rat on yourselves if you don’t stop staring at her like that,” Hotch tells him, his breath might smell like whiskey, but his eyes tell Spencer that he’s a lot more sober than he seems. 

“Like what?” Spencer counters, choosing to play dumb at best as he could, or at least just slightly clueless. 

“That doesn’t work on me, Reid. You should stop looking at her like you love her,” 

Spencer looks at his boss, at Y/N, and back at his drink. Was he seriously that transparent? 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hotch. Y/N and I are-” 

“Spence! Spencer!,” Y/N shouts as she practically runs over to where Spencer sits with Hotch, watching the rest of the team. 

It’s like Hotch isn’t even there anymore, it’s like no one is even there. God, it might sound sappy, but Spencer doesn’t care anymore. It’s going to kill him playing it like he doesn’t care about Y/N, especially considering he’s doing a mediocre job. 

“I have a really bad headache, Spence. And I need you to take me home,” Y/N asks him, and Spencer notices an eager glint in her eyes that tells him all he needs to know. 

“Keep this between us please, Hotch? Just until we figure it out,” Spencer almost pleads to Hotch who answers with a dismissive wave. He leaves them there to figure out their plans to sneak out of Garcia’s undetected. 

“Hotch knows? Of course you know,” Y/N says with a roll of her eyes and a quick wink at Spencer, whose growing embarrassment from the situation is only second to his excitement at the night to come. 

“Spence, go say goodbye for me? I’m going to head to your car. You really gotta sell that I’m feeling sick,” Y/N tells him, standing a little too close and dipping her hand a little too low on Spencer’s waist for this to be a friendly gesture to any of their friends that might pass by. She takes a peak around the room and reaches her hand into Spencer’s pocket. He gives her a startled glance, but they both know that the thrill of sneaking around like this is kind of worth it. 

As Y/N ducks out of the room, Spencer makes his way to where Emily, JJ, Garcia, and Derek sit at the kitchen table taking shots of a clear liquid Spencer thinks is tequila. Great, Spencer thinks. Him and his secret girlfriend, who as far as the team knows is his best friend, have to sneak out of Garica’s place in front of a pile of loud drunks. Spencer feels his phone buzz, altering him that there is a very impatient Y/N waiting in the car for him  

“Uh, Garcia, Y/N’s got a really bad headache. I think it’s an onset of one of her migraines that she gets from red wine,” Spencer lies through his teeth, completely terrified from the way Emily glares at him. It’s like she can see right through him.

“So you’re taking her home?” Derek asks, speeding along the process and for that Spencer considers himself forever grateful. 

“Yeah, you know we are neighbors after all,” Spencer reasons. 

The awkward silence in the kitchen is only interrupted by JJ’s quiet humming to the song that plays in the background. Derek and Emily share a knowing glance as Penelope starts pouring the next round of shots. 

“I’ll see you guys on Monday, Y/N is waiting for me in the car,” Spencer says without a further glance to his very perceptive colleagues. 

“You go take care of Y/N, Pretty Boy!” Derek yells as Spencer walks out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him, perhaps a little too eagerly. 

When Spencer gets to his car, he stops himself before opening the door. In the light from the lamppost, Spencer can see his reflection in the back window of his car. He runs a hand through his hair and attempts to fix the crookedness of his tie. Smiling to himself, Spencer gets into the driver’s seat of his car and is greeted by Y/N, who even in the dark makes him feel alive. 

“Hey,” he offers nervously. Even though they’ve been together loads of times, there is a tingle of intimidation that settles in his heart everytime she looks at him. 

Never the one to shy down from a confrontation, Y/N leans in and places her hand gracefully on Spencer’s neck and her face looms close to his ear. Her voice is low and seductive and Spencer swears he can feel himself melt at the feeling of her being this close and him able to touch her. He brings his hands up to rest, one on her upper thigh, placed bravely under the slip of her silk dress, and the other draws circles around her elbow.. 

“Spencer, I need you to drive us home,” Y/N tells him a voice that Spencer knows he could never deny. 

He doesn’t answer her, because the silence speaks for itself. They can hear all they need to know in the silence. The quiet way that their bodies seem to just gravitate to each other. Spencer’s hand cups Y/N’s thigh and her fingers graze the back of Spencer’s neck. It’s those quiet touches that tell the other what they are too afraid to say aloud. 

The quietness settles between them even as they pull into the parking spot. It’s like they’re dance partners, completely a routine of sneaking in the shadows effortlessly. Or like they’re actors in a play, pretending that they’re not dying to play the role in reality. It’s a dangerous game that they play. But all of that is forgotten, pushed to the side as Spencer opens the door and the curtain rises. 

Y/N initiates the kiss, pushing Spencer down on the couch. She straddles his waist, her silky green dress spills over her thighs and Spencer is in awe of how the color contrasts against her bare skin. He’s not an artist, but looking at her he’s sure he has laid his eyes on the most beautiful being he’s ever seen. He might not believe in magic, it’s all just science and mind tricks, but he’s nothing but transfixed at the women sitting in his lap. 

“Spencer, please get these clothes off,” Y/N commands in a voice that gives away how badly she wants him. 

“Wait your turn, Y/N” Spencer says in a teasing tone that brings out Y/N’s sly smile. 

“Then do something!” Y/N shouts, getting even more impatient than she was in the car. 

“You’re so beautiful like this, I-I mean you’re always so beautiful, but you’re just so-” Spencer stammers over his words, and the only thing he’s sure of is that his insecurity is the biggest turn off. But Y/N continues to surprise him each and everyday, and tonight is no less. 

“Slow down, baby. It’s just me. There’s no need to go so fast right now. We have all night,” Y/N soothes, craning down her neck to plant wet kisses down Spencer’s neck. She’s probably leaving marks, Spencer thinks, but his desire to be seen as her’s outweighs the teasing from Morgan on Monday. 

The fact that it’s Y/N perched in his lap, kissing down his neck and wiggling around in a way that she can feel everything does nothing to fend off the adrenaline that Spencer’s high off of. 

“I need to see your face,” Spencer says holding her by the shoulders. He reaches around her as she leans back to unzip her dress. She stands so it falls to the ground in a pool of dark green fabric. Her body is out in the open to him and Spencer’s flushed face must be on fire by now. 

“I need to see your face, Spencer,” Y/N says in a way that Spencer knows that he can’t disobey. 

There’s that silence again. That loud silence, filled with lines of unsaid love poems and quiet love songs. The silence that says the perfect things that Y/N deserves to hear, but Spencer is too scared to say. Three months too soon to say, I love you, Spencer tells himself. His mind spins so fast that he feels guilty for neglecting the naked woman standing before him. 

“If you’re gonna fuck me Spence, we’re gonna do it in a bed. I love you and all but this couch is not going to handle me when I get a hold of you,” Y/N says as she runs off into his bedroom, leaving Spencer dumbfounded in her wake. 

Spencer swallows down his fears and anxieties. He sheds his clothes off during his walk to the bedroom. Y/N lies down on his bed and Spencer won’t let the silence speak for him this time. 

“How are you this perfect, Y/N?” Spencer asks as he crawls in between Y/N’s legs. He rests his hands on her upper thighs and looks at her like expects her to answer his question. Spencer dips his fingers down to the place Y/N wants him the most. In the low light from Spencer’s lamp he can see how his fingers glisten. 

“You took too long at Penny’s Spence, I had to start without you,” Y/N explains, a slight flush to her cheeks reminds Spencer that she too is just as affected by him as he is by her. 

“You touched yourself in my car?” Spencer asks pressing a firm kiss on each side of Y/N hip bones. He dances his long fingers up to her stomach, where her own hands sit as if she’s shielding this part from him. 

“Yeah,” Y/N tells him, slightly breathless from the small kisses Spencer places on her stomach and back down to the softest part of her inner thighs. He tells himself that he’s got to slow himself down before he loses it at the site Y/N wriggling and moaning at his smallest touches. 

“I left you a present in your glove compartment, Spence,” 

“Huh, who knew I had such a naughty girl,” Spencer says with an unfamiliar bravery in his voice. Unsurprisingly, Y/N picks up on this and decides to see how far she can take it. 

“I have needs, Spencer. Do you think you can take care of them?” 

Spencer doesn’t respond, but ducks his head down to drag his tongue across her clit, feeling how wet she is. He refuses to break eye contact and realizes how obsessed he would get if she’d let him do this for the rest of his life. Spencer’s eyes carefully watch how Y/N’s facial expressions morph in intense pleasure. It’s like a science experiment. When he plunges his tongue into her, she closes her eyes. But when he blows softly on her inner thighs then leaves hot, wet kisses her fingers come up to latch onto his scalp. He peers at her and waits for the way she moans when he slips one, then two fingers in her. He curls them up in such a way that he knows drives her crazy. 

“Oh my God, Spencer! Please,” Y/N cries, twisting in the sheets. He continues at the pace he’s set, chasing the blissful feeling of her coming undone because of him. The moments leading up to her release, Y/N tears her hand away from Spencer’s head and connects her palm into his. Holding her hand, Spencer whispers praises and presses small kisses into her pussy. 

“Come here and kiss me now, baby. I need you,” Y/N whispers, grasping onto whatever parts of Spencer she could touch. Her fingers move to cup his face and she holds him like he’s made of glass. In between the soft sheets and even softer touches, Spencer knows what it’s like to feel precious. Y/N cranes her head forward to attack Spencer’s neck with kisses. She relishes in the soft and supple skin of his neck. Once again, Spencer finds himself not caring that she’s going to leave marks. 

“How are you this perfect, Spencer?” Y/N asks Spencer, who for the first time in his life does not have an answer for a question. 

He closes his and lets himself float around in the fuzzy feeling in his brain. All he can focus on is Y/N’s mouth. The way her praises make him believe in forever and the way her kisses litter his cheeks, eyes, chest. 

“You’re the perfect one, Y/N. I don’t even compare,” Spencer says as he watches Y/N twist underneath him and somehow maneuver herself so he lies beneath her. 

“None of that, Spencer” She tells him sharply. Y/N drags her nails down Spencer’s chest, not leaving scratches, just light discoloration. Her head and mouth is dangerously close to where his hardened cock lays leaking between his legs. 

She grasps around the base and just gingerly touches him that Spencer is sure he’s going to be blinded from the pleasure. Suddenly he feels almost self conscious. His anxiety is not unknown to Y/N, who lays a comforting hand in his, mirroring her earlier motion. 

“You don’t have to Y/N. I mean if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to think just because I’m your boyfriend and I did it for you-” Spencer rushes out, terrified of what Y/N’s reaction will be. 

“Look at me, Spencer. Do you want me to suck your cock, baby? Look at me,” Y/N says in a voice that Spencer doesn’t recognize and doesn’t dare ignore. 

“Yes,” he breathes out, his voice shakes as he feels Y/N’s mouth take in his tip. He hisses at the sensation. The smallest movements set him on fire. Spencer’s large hands come up to hover over Y/N’s shoulder blades.

“Don’t be quiet, baby. I want to hear you,” Y/N says before she deepens her hold of. She releases him to glide her younger down the side, sending shockwaves of pure pleasure in Spencer’s entire being. 

“You like that, Spencer. You like my mouth on your cock, baby?” Y/N eggs him on. 

Even though he’s lost the ability to speak, Spencer’s moans bounce around the room. He knows he’s a whimpering mess below Y/N, but he’s chasing the feeling of release shamelessly. 

“Y/N, Y/N. Baby, you gotta stop. Or I’m gonna cum right now,” Spencer chants, tightening his grip on Y/N’s hand. He forces himself to calm down to focus on Y/N, but it’s a little difficult when all Y/N is focusing on him. 

Spencer sat up, his back against the headboard, and he pulled Y/N forward so she rested in his lap. She grins up at him, and Spencer can feel his heart squeeze at the look. She’s going to be the death of him, but at least he’ll die a happy man. 

Much to Y/N’s pleasure, Spencer lets out a lewd moan as she grinds down, pressing her wet pussy to his throbbing cock. He feels a little ridiculous getting so worked up and she’s not even inside him yet. 

“Please, Y/N. I need you, I’m not going to last long,” Spencer utters. He says her name like a prayer, it’s a hymn to her ears. 

“I got you, Spence,” she tells him, sheathing his length into her. 

Spencer pulls Y/N in closer so that their chests are flush together. Among the chorus of moans and mumbles of praise, Spencer reaches down to hold Y/N’s hand. He’s not a believer in soulmates. He was sure that he’d never find his match. Never find the one person who’d share his dreams and become his dream. But sitting there, Spencer cannot deny that he’s tethered to Y/N. Their hands link together and mouths refuse to let go, searching for any exposed skin. 

“Spencer,” Y/N groans, leaning her forehead into his. She looks into his eyes and Spencer dares to wonder if her eyes are glassy because of him. It’s magic how someone like her can make a believer, a dreamer out of a man afraid of living. 

Spencer closes his eyes in pure ecstasy. Y/N sucks along the tender skin of his chest, causing him to flush at her ministrations. He can feel her tighten inside him, so he snakes his fingers down to stroke her clit, exciting moans and more fervent kisses along his chest and up to his ear. 

“Just like that, Spence. You’re so perfect my sweet boy,” 

“Y/N, cum on me, cum on me baby,” Spencer cries, finally able to let go as he feels himself come undone underneath Y/N.

Spencer’s whimpers and constant moans set Y/N over the edge. She mewled into Spencer’s shoulder, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin. As her orgasm rakes over her body, Y/N tugs on Spencer’s hair, suddenly quite happy he’s keeping it almost shoulder length. 

Both of them feel their bodies come back to life, their breathing steadies and their hearts seem to beat a little bit slower. Gone were the array of moans. Gone was the burning desire to chase their release. Gone was the sound of praise. All that stands between Spencer and Y/N is the silence. The silence that says quite enough for them. 

The silence that’s braver than Spencer. 

He’s quiet as Y/N flops to his side, entirely spent and tired from the company of friends and strenuous activities that just transpired. 

“I know what you’re thinking, Spence” She offers, turning to her side to look at him. He gives her a straight faced smile, unsure of how to approach the subject. He knows that she knows what he’s thinking about, sometimes even before he’s thinking about it. 

“I meant it, Spencer. I really do love you,” Y/N professes, finally breaking the silence. Spencer swallows as his eyes scan the girl before him. 

“You’re my best friend, Y/N,” Spencer says quietly, and suddenly realizes that it’s probably not what a girl who just confessed her love for you wants to hear. But he knows that Y/N understands-- she understands him. 

“What I mean is, I want midnight coffee nights with you. I want small talk and deep conversations and everything in between,” Spencer says quickly. “I want you in secret Y/N, but I want you in public too,” 

Spencer watches his confession settle into Y/N’s face. He’s scared for the rejection, for the daylight to break on his dream.

“I’ve waited for you to say that for so long, Spence,” She says, leaning in to close the gap between their naked bodies. Spencer pulls her in to rest his chin on top of Y/N’s head. It’s comforting being there, feeling her heartbeat in the tune of his own. He feels safe, wrapped up around in Y/N.

They’re sweaty and smell like sex, but Spencer doesn’t care. His hair is messy and he’s exhausted, but Spencer doesn’t care. His neck and chest are littered with lovebites and marks, but Spencer doesn’t care. After months of running around in the shadows, months of letting the unsaid say what he desperately wants to say, months of being patient but dying with anticipation, Spencer doesn’t care. Spencer doesn’t care because on Monday morning, Y/N won’t drop his hand when they walk into the bullpen. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!!

Taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ 

Comment or send in an ask if you’d like to be tagged (please specify if you don’t want to be tagged in NSFW, but make sure your age is in your bio)

[wildernessuntothemselves]

All my kitty!lino AUs

Warnings: prostitution, slavery. 

AU 1:

minho is a prized breeding kitty that you're hired to guard as he is a very rare and pure breed and having him breed other pure kitties makes for very profitable offspring

as a result of being treated like royalty all his life, he's super rude to you, a common guard dog

he's always snarky with you and he never listens and you have enough of it one day

you push him down to the floor, your teeth grazing against his delicate neck, showing him that you were not someone to be trampled on

"that's right. you have nothing to say now, brat." you growl, sitting up to look at the frightened kitty

but as you sit back, your ass comes into contact with his boner

arching an eyebrow, you smirk and roll your hips over his clothed dick "now what do we have here?"

minho stays silent, frowning but not making any attempt to push you off

"don't tell me you like this." you tease him, grinding against him harder and pulling breathy little moans from his pouty lips "kitty likes it when I'm mean to him?"

"Yeah you like that pretty kitty? Are you gonna make a mess in your pants for me? Good boy."

you make him cum like that without even touching his dick

minho is shameless after that brazenly getting on your nerves so you'd punish him

he gets so needy that now you're getting him off on the daily, letting him hump your thighs to get off while you degrade him

his insatiable need would be bad enough but now he's outright refusing to breed the cat hybrids anymore

no matter how many times you try to convince the stubborn idiot that he's going to draw attention and ruin you both, he still refuses

until finally you make a deal with him that you'll have sex with him if he continues breeding the cats

he's not fully convinced. why would he waste his seed on other women when you were right there?

"because I'm not your kind, you stupid cat."

but minho doesn't care. all he cares about is getting to breed you

"Fuck you're burning up. Are you going into heat over this? Dumb little kitten thinks he can put babies in my belly."

your words only make him fuck you harder as if he could do it if he tried hard enough

AU 2:

he's the prince's very picky kitty, rarely is a cat good enough for him. he rarely mates at all and the prince doesn't understand it one bit

one day they're walking around shopping in the bazaar when lino catches a whiff of your scent. he follows it to a shady part of the market that he never saw before

that's when he sees you standing there with a heavy chair around your neck and a cheap transparent dress over your body

out of nowhere a short disgusting man appear and he asks him if he wants to see your tits. it's only for a couple of coins

minho shouldn’t say yes. He has a whole harem of much better bred pussies for him to pick and choose from. He didn’t need to pay a disgusting man to see the body of some nameless mongrel

yet here he was hanging the slimey man the coins

the man all but rips your bodice open, eager to please the rich hybrid.

Minho feels an uncomfortable tightness in his pants. His mouth waters at the sight of your full breasts on display for him and he finds himself moving forward to touch, but the man steps in.

“The silver was to see not to touch. Three if you want to touch.”

Minho grunts and gives him what he wants. you don't seem impressed by him.

He cradles your breasts in his hands and leans down to pluck a pert nipple into his mouth, ear perked to the sound of your restrained gasp.

but then he hears the prince calling for him and he rips himself away from you and wipes his mouth harshly, panting as if he was under a spell.

Gulping, he spares your half naked form one last glance before he’s retreating towards his owner. As he slips back into the main room he hears the vendor call after him smugly, “We’ll be waiting for you, my lord.”

He does come back, this time more worked up than last time as he couldn't go to sleep thinking about you and he was reduced to getting himself off multiple time throughout the night just to cool down

his owner catches him this time though. "So this is why you were so eager to come back even though you hate the market. I gotta say I'm surprised by your taste." The prince grins. "Did you mount her yet?"

Minho blanches, feeling humiliated at being caught "of course not. I would never defile myself with such a mongrel."

The prince arches an eyebrow. "It's okay minho. Sometimes you need to slum it down a little. I get that urge too. Cheap prostitutes like her have their draw."

The prince grabs you and pushes her over a table, pulling your skirt up. "Come on kitty. Take her. I know you're dying to."

minho's hesitation evaporate when he sees your pussy exposed and waiting for him. he quickly comes up beind you, pushing his length into you even though you weren't wet. it's uncomfortable but it's not the first time a man shoves his dick into your pussy without bothering to get you wet

it's over soon anyway, the spoiled cat getting overwhelmed by your tight walls and ends up cumming embarrassingly fast. He stumbles away, watching his cum drip from your fucked out hole.

"We'll take her."

Minho looks at him shocked. "I finally have something for my precious pet to fuck. You're so picky."

AU 3:

You were standing outside the gymnasium for a quick smoke when a voice slurs behind you. "Where is your little boyfriend?"

You roll your eyes, already fed up with the boy that is talking to you.

"What, he couldn't stand the thought of fucking you tonight so he ran away?"

You narrow your eyes at him. How did he know you were planning to give your virginity to your Hyunjin tonight? If he had shown up that is.

You don't even know what minho's deal is. He wasn't always like this. You remember a time long, long ago when the two of you were friends. He was so nice and sweet to you when you first met as kids. But then suddenly out of nowhere he turned on you for absolutely no reason.

"Tell me, mutt. What was he gonna give you so he could get between your legs? A pack of cigarettes?" Oh yeah, that’s why. He looks down on you for not being a purebred like him.

You huff the smoke in his face in agitation, still ignoring him.

"Aw, don't be sad. If he won't do it, I can rise to the occasion. Just tell me how much." He goads you. You throw the cigarette to the ground, violently snuffing it out with your heels when an idea pops into your head.

Looking up at him, you reply simply. "50k."

"W-what?"

"You're so fucking obsessed with my sex life so you must really want me. So yeah I'll give it to you for 50k."

"You're a crazy bitch."

you were just messing with him. and he worked. he left you alone

what you never expected was for him to show up the next day at your door, shoving a heavy suitcase into your arms

"what's this?"

"50k." He mumbles.

“Is this a joke?”

“You said you’d give it to me for 50k.” He explains flatly, looking everywhere except at you.

you walk towards him. "You really are a sick pervert, aren't you? Buying my virginity?"

He stays silent, looking at the ground so you grab his jaw and force him to look at you.

"You're not in control. I am. Got it?" You sneer, and he stares for a second, processing that you’re actually agreeing to go through with this, then he nods enthusiastically.

AU 4:

you're a dog hybrid and he's a cat hybrid. He's been kissing you secretly since long ago

You know it's wrong but you like it so you keep it a secret. and you always get so jealous when his heat comes and he goes away to fuck someone else.

When he comes back he's apologetic and spends days trying to make you forgive him. He shouldn't have to. He's not yours.

You touch yourself while you're sleeping next to him a lot. He pretends he doesn't know but it drives him insane

He's waits till you have your first heat. You're supposed to be given to chan but he convinces you not to let your owner know telling you he'll take care of you

You know this is forbidden but you let him fuck you because you're in love with him.

"Oppa this is too much."

"Shh baby take it. You've teased me long enough."

He cums in you but doesn't pull out so he can fuck you more. He's been training himself for this in order to satisfy you.

You get overwhelmed and he laughs at how cute you are. ask him to kiss you so he does

"What a cutie. All mine."

"Open your mouth." He lets a trail of spit fall from his mouth and you obediently open up and take it like you've been taught. He groans and kisses you softly. You whine in his mouth as he fucks you again.

"Not gonna go to that mutt right baby? Only I get to do this to you."

AU 5:

he's the queens pet and you're the leader of a mercenary group the queen has hired to fight a battle for her

he immediately takes an interest in you and follows you around thinking that he's slick

In the beginning, his infatuation was merely amusing to you as you took to teasing him whenever you got the chance--cornering him when the princess wasn't looking and whispering filthy things in his ear. It was both easy and fun to work up the needy kitten.

What you hadn’t expected was for him to walk in on you while you were fucking one of your own hybrids, Chan. The big wolf tended to get rowdy so you were often rough with him to keep him under control, and well that's how the masochistic hybrid liked it too.

You expected him to be terrified of you after that, he certainly looked the part, but he surprised you by coming to you teary eyes and whimpering pleas so moving that you couldn’t resist giving him whatever he asked for, which was badly worded and clueless seeing as he had never been in any kind of physical relationship before.

He’s never done something like this before. His owner, the queen, kept him on a tight leash, untouched and forever pure. He had been taking suppressants ever since his very first heat and, before he met you, he had barely remembered what it was like to feel that painfully delicious pang of pleasure in his belly.

He holds onto you as you pleasure him, one hand fisted in your clothes and the other wrapped around your wrist as if he was afraid you were going to hurt him. If you were to look at his expression, you would think that you were hurting him, a small frown on his face as he whines and whimpers.

You stroke his cheek softly with the back of your fingers, finding it hot to the touch. “What is it, kitten?”

“It hurts.” He sobs.

“I know, baby. I’ll make it go away.” You almost feel guilty for purposefully prolonging his pain, the stimulation you give his cock designed to make him reach the edge at the slowest possible pace, but the truth is you weren’t sorry at all.

“You know, kitten, you should come with me when I leave. I’ll hide you until we’re out of the castle walls. Your princess won’t even realize you’re missing until it’s too late, and when you’re with me, every moment will be filled with pleasure. I’ll take care of you like she never did. I’ll show you a whole world of pleasure. How does that sound, kitty?” You seduce as your thumb flits over his weeping slit, distracting him and seducing him. “Hmm, you wanna come with me?”

“I--I’m not--I don’t know.” He answers nervously, his brain too hazy especially as you finally speed up your strokes, jumbling up all his thought process.

“Don’t think too much, kitten. Don’t you want to feel good?” You purr, tightening your fist around his cock to give him more pleasure.

“Yes, but--”

“No buts, darling. Don’t you wanna be a good kitten for Master?” You ask, referring to yourself and he gasps, his cock jumps in your hand. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? You’re a dirty little kitten, aren’t you?”

“No!” He cries, shaking his head from side to side, but there is no denying the way his stomach tightens and his hips buck off the bed as his orgasm approaches and his primal senses take over. “I can’t take it! Please, help me. I can’t--”

His seed splatters across his abdomen as he cums, and you talk him through it. “That’s it, baby. Let go for me. Let it all out. Good kitten.”

you ruin him so thoroughly that he gives into her and lets her fuck him in front of the queen herself

"Lino stop that! You sound like a common whore."

"I can't help it. Mistress… is making me burn up." "Ah fuck." He keens

"Your precious kitten is getting fucked regularly, that’s why he sounds like that. He’s nothing but a loose slut right now. I fucking ruined him. Isn’t that right, kitten?"

"Hah... touch my cock." He drools on the sheets under him and you laugh, grabbing his cock from underneath and starting to milk him. “See? Just a dumb slut.”

___________

A/N: one of these will most likely get a proper fic but I couldn’t keep these to myself

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

bakugou thoughts pt 2001847471 :)))

- if u go to the park, and somebody is like, walking their dog n the animal barks at y’all??? bakugou is barking back. mans full on squares up, n barks at the dog until it backs off

- he rarely gets into shows/series, but when he finds one he likes, he’ll only watch the first few episodes and then make u watch the rest with him. he’ll always say sum “if i dont watch with you, then i gotta make extra time for your needy ass. ‘m prioritizing my fuckin’ time. it doesn’t mean anything, shut up.” ...... he’s lying. it does mean something. it means he wants to share the things he likes with u

- pls he’s so smart, and generally pretty aware, but sometimes he’ll just do something so duMb. like, u kno that thing that happens sometimes with hair?? like, when it sticks to ur fingers and no matter what u do, u can’t get it off?? bakugou is literally breaking his wrist a foot away from u, shaking his hand back and forth and cursing soooo loudly. u just gotta go up to him and gently remove the hair from him like “oh honey- no.”

- peanut gallery comments. lots of them. mans will sit fully dead silent, not talking for the whOle day, but the second u do something embarrassing?? like trip??? suddenly he has a LOT to say ..... smh men

- animals just always like him. its absolutely unexplainable bc he’s so loud n moves super suddenly,,, but the amount of street animals that follow him home is ridiculous. srsly. sometkmes he even has other people’s pets trying to follow him home

- respects absolutely no one n that somehow strangely makes him the most respectful u’ve ever seen??? like- he hates everyone the exact same so u won’t ever catch bakugou in an act of discrimmination

- he can’t draw at all but if u asked him to draw something, it’ll be the same skull every single time. it’s a good skull, but it’s soooo obvious he learned how to draw it from a tutorial in the midst of his emo phase

- will fully make fun of others for baby-talking around their s/o, n then just fully go home n look at you like “tired.” “hungry.” “kiss.”...... like okay baby man, maybe try putting a full sentence together before u start trying to run your mouth. hypocrite.

- probably sleeps like the dead. contrary to popular belief, i absolutely do not believe he’s up at every single noise. man’s could sleep thru an explosion, im sure of it. that being said tho, it’s probably actually hard for him to turn his brain off n fall asleep. he prob goes to bed so “early” bc he has to wind down for a good hr or two until he’s ready to actually sleep

- he’s got a vendetta against salespeople. like, if his phone rings with some bullshit about a product? if somebody, god forbid, tries to walk up to your door? fully frothing at the mouth annoyed. will chew out any employee who’s too underpaid not to listen to him

- eats like an absolute animal. no rlly, its bad. holds his spoon with a fist and digs at his meal like its the gold rush. the worst table manners you’ve ever seen rlly

- he gets sorts antsy if he sits for too long, so he’s always off doing random shit. like, u’ll look out the window n he’s just like, raking the .3 leaves from ur driveway, probably trying to guess where the wind will be so they wont blow back

- ik this with my heart and soul okay,,, bakugou has never had a conversation with u that wasnt from exactly .2 meters away. like,, if he’s comfortable, then he’s just close all the time. like he’s waving his hands around and yelling and you just have to take his face in ur hands and go “im literally right here. ily but pls tone it down for the sake of my hearing.”

- very much guard dog behavior when y’all go out. absolutely will not leave ur side for even a second, like, at a bar or during a concert. even if u go to the bathroom he’s like, leaning against the wall and waiting right outside the door

- gets absolutely bitchy about your phone blowing up while you’re hanging out. its not that he’s suspicious that ur, like, cheating on him, it’s just that he doesnt understand why u’d even leave ur phone on in the first place since he always has his turned off when ur around. if he gets annoyed enough he’ll fully take the phone out of ur hands, say sum “yeah, you don’t fuckin’ need this anymore. you’re done with this.” n toss it across the room while he kisses u senseless

- tbh his ultimate love language is 100% playfighting. v much would go heart eyes if u even seemed like u might try n wrestle him. obvi u dont win, but his favorite is how u laugh while he pins ur hands above ur head

- he sneers at other angry people. will fully, fully sit there like “jesus christ, they need to calm the hell down. annoying as shit- fuckin’ loud too.” ....... -i. who’s gonna tell him

- silent conversations with ur eyes. no rlly. if y’all are with friends and somebody says something questionable, bakugou is immeadiately turning to u, eyes hardly even shifting but u just know he’s hurling insults in his head

- he doesnt realize his own strength sometimes. like- he knows he’s strong, but if u ever open a door n ur like “woah, careful, this is heavier than it looks” bakugou is .2 steps behind u practically ripping the damn thing off it’s hinges. he’ll look at it, huffing like he doesn’f even understand the issue

- he rlly likes when u call him by his name. pet names are fine, but he srsly is super soft for the simple stuff. like when u look over at him, all excited, smile wide like “hey katsuki, u gotta see this! c’mere!”

- his road rage is severe. no rlly. bakugou drives like every day is a race n he’s one win away from going formula one. you’re pretty sure that the only reason he passed his license test is bc the instuctor was too terrified to tell him no

- bakugou probably does that thing where if you’re sitting on the counter top, watching him cook, he’ll stand between ur legs. hands on ur thighs or resting on ur hips while you tell him about your day

- can’t explain this one, but he doesnt kill spiders. he takes them outside. says sum “they eat ticks, idiot. what- you actually want a fuckin’ blood disease? Hah? ‘m not gonna kill it. motherfucker’s gotta earn his keep before dyin’ just like the rest of us.” while he v gently picks the spider up into his hand and walks it outside

- ik that his one cheat food is sugary cereal. like, he’s a health freak, but the one thing he can’t help but make a concession for is sugary cereal on the weekends

- he’ll sometimes get in this over-stimulated mood where everything pisses him off, n the only thing u can do is leave him alone. u learn this quick bc his anger doesn’t discrimminate and if u push him even after he tells u what’s up?? pls bakugou will lash tf out. at u. like, ik y’all like to write it but that whole “it’s okay- it’s just me. just look at me.” thing does not work with him,,, u literally gonna get merc’d if u try

- he’s probably a guy who’s gonna be super big on passing touches. like he drops his hand on ur head when he passes, or bumps his shoulder into urs when he laughs. no footsies tho. too sappy even for him- pls if u tried to initate that he’d crush ur toes under the table aHAHAHA

- feeds every street cat he comes across. is probably super fond of the ones with a bunch of scratches/scars on them. he’d die if u knew, but one time u caught him feeding a scratched up calico n going “bet u beat his stupid ass, right? that’s my girl. we always win, huh?”

—/—

surprise suprise,, my brain rlly never shuts the hell up about this man

[thishintoflove]

“I Think He Knows” - A Kingsman Fanfic

TSwift Songfic Week Day 5

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x M!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Explicit (Pining, dirty talk, hand jobs, oral sex)

A/N: I feel like there’s a lack of M/M in the Pedro cinematic universe fandom, so here’s some bisexual Whiskey having a good time with a fellow male agent.

Summary: You and Agent Whiskey are paired together for an out-of-state mission. On your last night, your pining and his flirting finally come to a head.

I think he knows his hands around

A cold glass

Make me wanna know that body

Like it's mine

The mission was long but you were finally finished with it. Three weeks in Dallas were more than enough for you, and you were looking forward to getting home to your own bed and your own office in Kentucky. You were aching for the privacy it offered, after spending almost a month sharing a hotel room with your fellow agent. This time you’d been paired up with Agent Whiskey, and because of that you were glad the trip was almost over.

It’s not because Agent Whiskey- Jack - was incapable. Quite the opposite. He was extremely efficient and good at his job but he was also… extremely attractive. Which was a huge distraction.

You took pride in being a capable agent but Jack and his pretty face compromised that. You’ve never been in a situation like this before. Lusting over your coworker felt extremely unprofessional, but it was impossible to ignore him. He was an in-your-face kind of guy, always butting in with a comment or joke, always using his body as a weapon. He’d lounge around your shared hotel room in nothing but a thin towel, his wet hair draped across his forehead, and you swear he did it on purpose. The man knew how attractive he was and he obviously loved flaunting it.

He was tall and tan, with soft brown hair, a pair of beautiful round eyes that seemed to sparkle with amusement, and a smile that made your knees weak. The downside was that his smile made just about everyone weak. You were living in your own personal hell. Every single day having to watch Jack be attractive without even trying, and then watch as everyone in his vicinity tried to flirt with him. Tonight he was wearing a black leather jacket and extremely tight jeans, looking more like a movie star than an undercover agent. The man could pull off anything. It’s actually unfair.

You were out at some dive bar, celebrating the end to a successful mission before flying home tomorrow. It was Jack’s idea of course, but you’d agreed because you needed a stiff drink after these three long weeks and honestly you couldn’t say no to him.

“Another round, kid?”

You glanced up and saw him staring at you, a twinkle in his bright eyes. His hand gripped his empty whiskey glass and you eyed your own half-full drink. You couldn’t throw it back like him.

“I’m good for now,” you answered.

He nodded and slapped you on the shoulder as he stood up, “I’ll get you another one anyway. You better finish that by the time I get back.”

You sighed as you watched him walk away. His ass looked fantastic in those jeans. All the training and harsh exercise routines that Champ put the team through really worked for him. No wonder he could get any pretty thing he wanted.

Speaking of which, he seemed to have turned his affections on someone else. You groaned, your eyes never wavering from where Jack stood. He was currently making small talk with the pretty brunette bartender. He was giving her the full Whiskey treatment- gazing at her with those soft, mocha-colored puppy dog eyes and giving her a charming half-grin. Watching him flirt was simultaneously entertaining and torturous. He threw his head back, laughing at some dumb joke the bartender must have said, and you almost growled out loud as you hungrily stared at his neck.

Stupid horny bastard.

He got that boyish look that I like in a man

I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans

It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands

No one understands

You were getting really sick of hiding your partial hard-ons and jacking off in the cold shower, but everything the man did was hot. The deep voice and accent alone were enough to get you going on most days. God, you hadn’t felt like this since high school.

If Jack noticed you staring or caught on to the fact that you took extra long showers, he didn’t say anything. You were openly out at the agency and your sexuality wasn’t a secret. When you first joined the Statesmen, you felt you had something to prove at work, as if you had to demonstrate your masculinity by keeping up with the largest members of the team. But you’ve excelled in your role for years now and you were beyond proving yourself at this point. You were just glad that Agent Whiskey wasn’t one of the people who cared that you liked men.

In fact, he treated you just like he treated everyone-- this meant he wasn’t shy about flirting and teasing you. Sometimes it seemed like he was coming onto you, but you had to remind yourself that he was like that with everyone-- you weren’t special and there was no way he was actually interested.

Before falling asleep each night, you’d listen to Jack’s soft snores and run scenarios through your head of every possible way that you could share your feelings. You thought about all of the things you could say, and all of the ways Jack could react. It was agonizing but your analytical mind couldn’t stop. You wished you had the courage to just ask him out. The worst that could happen is he’d say ‘no’ and maybe request to never work with you again, but then at least you’d be free of him.

Wanna see what's under that attitude

Like, I want you, bless my soul

And I ain't gotta tell him

I think he knows

A loud laugh suddenly interrupted your thoughts and you looked over to the bar again. The bartender was giggling and grasping at Jack’s arm. The sight made your stomach turn, and you made a quick decision to get out of there before you had to watch them start making out over the bar.

You stepped up next to Jack and finally drew his attention away from the girl.

“Hey, hold off on my drink. I’m gonna head out,” you told him.

“What? Come on now, it’s so early!”

“Yeah. I just don’t really feel like hanging out anymore. I’ll see you back there.”

Before Jack could respond, you threw down some cash on the bar and turned away. You were already across the floor and on your way out the door when a hand on your arm stopped you.

“Hey. Are you pissed at me or something?”

“No,” you muttered, trying to ignore the shot of arousal you felt when he grabbed you, “I just don’t feel like sitting in the corner, watching you flirt with some chick.”

You tried to turn away from him, but Jack let out a quiet “ohhh” of understanding. His grip on your arm tightened.

“We’ve been on this mission for weeks now, and on our last night you finally decide to say something?” Jack laughed, turning you around so you were facing him again. He invaded your personal space, ducking his head and trailing his nose along your neck and jaw.

“What?” you asked, confused because he couldn’t possibly mean...

“You're so slow, that’s what,” Jack mumbled, his lips tracing along your neck. It felt amazing, but... was Jack- your fellow agent and known womanizer- really nuzzling your neck right now?

“I'm confused, are you really into this?” you asked again, trying to hold back a moan. Jack pulled away and looked at you with huge eyes.

“God, you’re an idiot. I've been sending you obvious signs, makin’ eyes at you and showing off what I got, and now I'm literally biting your neck, and you're still asking?” Jack said incredulously. You searched his face and saw eyes that were filled with desperation and lust.

“I just assumed…”

“I like it both ways, kid. Is that clear enough for you?”

He then took one step forward and kissed you fully on the lips. There was only a moment of shock before you melted into the kiss, pressing your bodies closer and running your hands over Jack’s shoulders and back. All of your worries disappeared then. You didn't feel the terrible anxiety that constantly filled you with dread. Your mind stopped frantically thinking about every possible worst case scenario. Everything stopped. There was only Jack.

“Oh ohhhh right. Yeah I’m an idiot,” you quietly mumbled against his lips, “Want to go back to the hotel?”

“Fuckin’ finally,” he replied with a grin.

Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh

We can follow the sparks, I'll drive

So where we gonna go?

I whisper in the dark

You weren’t sure how you made it back to the hotel so quickly, but as soon as you tumbled through the door, Jack had you pinned to the bed underneath him. His hands roamed all over your torso, and he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside before quickly doing the same to his own. The room was filled with your little whimpers every time Jack ground his hips against yours. You stared up at him, his lips swollen and red bitten and eyes blown with lust, and you were positive that you looked just as debauched. He looked just as beautiful hovering over you as you’d always imagined, and you wanted to feel him everywhere.

“More,” you whined, canting your hips up into Jack’s.

He groaned and trailed his hands down your chest, his fingers brushing against your nipples, causing a moan to slip from your mouth. He continued his journey down until he reached the fly of your jeans.

“Lift up,” Jack mumbled, leaning in to kiss your neck as he tried to tug your pants down. You obeyed and soon your pants and your boxers were off, leaving you completely exposed.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he moaned, his fingers barely brushing over your erection, “You’re even prettier than I thought, darlin’.”

You groaned, pushing your body closer to Jack’s. As his hand slowly learned the feel of your cock, your own hands wandered all over his body. From his strong shoulders to his muscular back, to his waist, his hips, his thick thighs. You slipped one hand into his jeans to grab his ass, finally getting the chance to touch the part of Jack’s body you’d fantasized about the most. You could feel his clothed erection rubbing against your thigh as Jack continued steadily stroking your cock.

“Jack,” you whimpered, gazing into his dark, lust-filled eyes. You were barely able to control your thoughts properly since Jack’s pace was getting quicker and way too distracting. He grinned down at you.

“This good, baby? You want it a little rougher?” he asked, a groan slipping from his lips as you squeezed his ass in response.

Jack pushed forward and kissed you harder this time, moving his hand faster along your cock. Then he kissed his way down your neck, sucking and nipping all your sensitive spots. Suddenly he bit down hard on the skin between your neck and shoulder, following it up with a long lick with his wide tongue. That show of possessiveness was enough to push you right to the edge. You cried out as pleasure tore through you, coming in ropes all over Jack’s large hand. You gasped for breath, your chest rising and falling as your head lolled against the pillows.

Jack hovered over you, continuing to kiss your neck and upper chest as you came down from your high. “I’ve been told I’m good with my hands, can I get a confirmation on that, darlin'?“ he asked with a cocky grin.

Your eyes blinked open and you smirked at him. “You’ve got the confirmation all over your hand.”

“Ooooh, so he’s mouthy all of a sudden. Guess I just had to get you in bed to see the sassy side of you, huh?” Jack tutted.

“I’ll show you mouthy,” you muttered, blushing at the stupid euphemism even as you trailed a line of kisses down Jack’s sternum and belly.

When you reached the top of his jeans, you surprised your fellow agent by flipping him over and yanking his pants down in one fluid motion. Jack growled at the switch, but when you took his cock into your mouth, he gasped and surged forward. You enjoyed the desperate moan he made as you swallowed him completely, his hips bucking into your mouth. But you wanted to take your time with this. You grasped his hip bone with one hand and held him down, before pulling off his cock and moving to lightly lick his balls. Jack was making beautiful, desperate noises and you loved the idea that this strong, confident agent was falling apart because of you. You smiled against him and swiped your tongue along the bottom of his shaft before taking him fully into your mouth again.

“Holy hell, you’re fuckin’ amazing,“ Jack groaned as you bobbed up and down on his cock, “I’m so close-”

You sucked harder and reached your other hand down to fondle his balls again as Jack thrust into your mouth. Soon he was arching forward and shouting your name. You let him come in your mouth, swallowing his seed down like it was another shot at the bar.

When you looked up at Jack from between his legs, you grinned. He had his head tilted back, one hand thrown across his mouth as he stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. When he felt your eyes on him, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile.

“Damn, that was…”

“Amazing,” you cut him off, “Even better than I imagined.”

“So you imagined it, huh?”

Unable to control the urge any longer, you leaned forward and pulled Jack into a sweet, affectionate kiss. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and you could feel him grinning the whole time. When you finally pulled back, he was still smiling but he also looked a bit confused.

“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” he asked.

“I was convinced you were straight. I’ve been a fucking mess trying to decide if I should say something or not,” you replied.

Jack hummed and reached for you, but you chuckled and pulled away.

“You need a shower,” you said, “Then we can talk some more.”

“Only if you join me, sugar...”

I want you, bless my soul

I ain't gotta tell him

I think he knows

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”

[fumingspice]

andante

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Reader

Prompt: oK so how about like?? Delia x reader and they're both in love af but they think the other has no feelings for them so they're both tripping over themselves to make the other love them and then madison comes in and she's just like 'stop being dumb' and they finally realise how much the other loves them.

I’m sorry but my ed crept back in and im not horny enough to put more thought into writing so just ignore the massive time skip at “---”. enjoy, you strange people xo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*(*❦ω❦)*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It's crazy. Falling. You see? We don't say "rising into love". There is in it, the idea of the fall. And it goes back to extremely fundamental things. That there is always a curious tie at some point between the fall and the creation. Taking this ghastly risk is the condition of there being life. You see, for all life is an act of faith and an act of gamble...

Between Cordelia Goode's ears were pretty brown eyes and a mind full of thoughts. Brown eyes were never really your favourite until you saw them on her. You knew yourself that somehow, over the years you got to know Cordelia; working with her, befriending her, carrying her home from the bar one night when she got far too drunk, letting her cry into your shoulder when her job became too real and she could feel her mother's words hanging over her head.

When you started falling for the woman with those beautiful brown eyes.

Somehow, her eyes were now your favourite colour.

Not brown- brown wasn't simply the word for the colour. Cordelia's eyes were the colour of aged whiskey. Sometimes they were the only two safe shots of tequila that you could see. Sometimes they were a beautiful milk chocolate dotted with exposed honeycomb. Once when she had asked you to help her decorate the garden for the Summer Equinox- she had given Zoe enough money to take the girls on a field trip for the day so she could give the girls a little party. You stood watching her in her denim shorts and her white button up. When she had stepped back and put her arm around you to admire both of your handy work you could have sworn her eyes were glowing like fresh magma.

Her hand lay on your waist a split second too long.

You had fallen in love with the Supreme.

"Yo, bitch!" Madison Montgomery's usual entrance phrase disturbed you from your imagination. You raised your brow and smirked.

"Yes, Madison?"

The blonde took her sunglasses off her face and closed them with a slight snap. "The girls want to know if you wanna come to play Pysch! with us," she said. Her lips were curled in what could almost be described as a friendly smile. You were one of the few honoured to know that under Madison's bitchy white girl facade there was actually a very sweet someone lurking under there.

You thought for a moment and put your pen down. "I won't be long- I just have to log these last few names and I'll be there," you tell her. Madison rolled her eyes and waved her hand, the pen lifted itself and wrote the last thirteen names within seconds. "You're done. Let's go, Y/N."

Madison didn't even give you a minute to say anything before she walked out of the room. "Come on, bitch. Don't make me use my powers!" she called from the hallway, finally motivating you to move.

The girls sat in a circle in Zoe's bedroom. Lights off. Candles lit.

Zoe, Queenie, Mallory, and Coco were indulged in their phones for the game. Madison turned to you and held up her phone to show you the question. "What is Zoe's deepest, darkest secret?" she read. "You gotta answer it and the person with the most votes wins. It lasts for ten rounds and it can be fucking hilarious."

Zoe's face was red with laughter at the answers. "She's not actually a witch- that's not even funny," she gasped through cackles. She then sobered slightly. "She likes to watch Danny Devito movies while masturbating and screaming 'I am a dirty man'."

Madison was the only one who chortled at that.

You joined the game and got your best answers ready in your head. "If Madison got arrested tomorrow what would it be for?"

Madison rolled her eyes and muttered something about knowing exactly what everyone was about to answer. You smirked slightly, sensing her slight apprehension.

Prostitution.

Murder. Third-degree.

Fucking up the brakes on a bus full of frat boys.

Public Nudity.

"Gosh, you're so original," she muttered, glaring right at Zoe, who just shrugged.

"It's the rules of the game, bitch. Go all in, don't get offended," she replied.

The game pinged for the next question.

"What is on Y/N's mind right now?"

Coco gave a loud "Ha!" and typed quickly, along with the other girls who were all typing as quickly as possible to get their answers in first.

A quiet knock came from the other side of the door and Cordelia poked her head around. "Sorry to interrupt, girls. Y/N, could I borrow you for a moment?" she asked, voice sweet and angelic. You bounced up as soon as she finished the sentence and obliged straight away. You were met with a sweet smile.

Madison flicked her brows. "Speak of the devil," she muttered, winking at Delia's slightly confused face. As you left, your phone pinged to announce the results just before you left the game.

Cordelia 🥵🥵🥵

Delia. I ship it <3

Getting knuckle deep finger fucked by the HWIC

French fries

You quickly shut off your phone screen before Cordelia could see.

"What's the matter, Delia?" You asked, practically skipping alongside her. There was a vibrant air of satisfaction between you.

Cordelia shook her head, her blonde hair bobbing with her movements. “I just wanted to know if you’d like to go out.”

You felt your heart stop. “Go out?”

Cordelia looked hurt by the confusion on your face.

“Yes. Would you like to join me in the garden?”

“Oh,” you realised, slightly disappointed. “I would love to.”

---

"For the love of Hades. Right, I don’t mean to sound rude or anything because I have some understanding that lesbians are fucking useless because of the fear of appearing to be predatory because the media is an asshole,” Madison continued. “But I don’t really think any of us can eat at this table anymore without choking on the fucking sexual tension between the both of you.”

Cordelia looked shocked. “It’s not that-”

“I’m a fucking mindreader! You do get that I can fucking hear the things that you say in your head about what you want to do to Y/N? I’m one gutter minded bitch and not even I’m creative enough to come up with that shit while I’m eating my fucking apple turnover!”

You blushed hard and chuckled.

Madison’s neck snapped towards you. “Oh, and don’t getting me fucking started on you! Do you know how fucking unsanitary it would be to carry out your little fantasies of fucking Cordy on the kitchen counter? Not even for us but the amount of fucking crumbs that would work into your nooks and crannies would be like trying to spring clean Myrtle's fucking hair! "

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cordelia chuckled nervously. Her face turning a shade of red. “I’m sure Y/N’s got plenty of better options.”

Madison dropped her face in her hands and rubbed her temples. “God, you bitches are going to put fucking years on my skin.”

“Oh, give me a break, Madison.”

Cordelia stumbled foward slightly, having been tripped up by some unseeable force and sending her tumbling into you. Her hands lay against your chest for that split second too long once more.

Your lips parted for a moment and your breath hitched as you both watched Madison smirk and leave the room. It felt like your heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour. You surroundings were unnoticable to you now; replaced by unidentifiable whirls of colour and light. Your hand rested flat on Cordelia’s cheek. It was different this time. Not the spark, that had been there every time you touched. It was the fact that you were both too slow to ignore the ignition that started in your chests. 

You saw her eyebrows falter from their previously confident expression, like all of her preparation and barriers and walls had fallen down and she was too slow to replace them. Cordelia pursed her lips, presumably trying to figure out what she should say to you. Again, she was too slow as you inhaled sharply and thrust yourself forward to catch her lips.

Delia was quick to mould herself to the curves of your front, hands falling to the small of your back on a collision course as she backed you into the dining room table. You smoothed your hands over the contours of her jaw, her collar bones, breasts, hips like you were a master pianist playing a brilliant concerto. Her body was the only instrument you longed to play; her moans the only melody that you longed to draw from her.

As her lips glided across your own, everything came together like pieces into place. You thought back one of those late nights in the kitchen. The way Delia’s fingers had so enthusiastically laced through yours during the late night in the kitchen when you had both stayed up until the wee hours of the morning talking about life. How the witch had turned the radio on and taken your hand while you danced to some song by REO Speedwagon. Twirling you through the night. “Can’t fight this feeling” was the song. Ironic, now that you thought about it. It seemed as though fighting her feelings was what she had been doing the entire time.

She twirled you around in the light of the dim television and the refrigerator when the songs were upbeat, even going as far as dipping you and pulling you up again. Bare thighs against your own in her shorts and oversized shirt. When the songs that were played were slower, she was more gentle. Until eventually you swayed in a slow two-step, your head against her chest, and hers against yours. The air was thick with something pure. Something untouched. 

You had no idea why you ever just thought this was something two best friends did. More so, you had no idea why you didn’t lean back and dip into her lips and allow your souls to dance the waltz that they were so clearly destined for. 

Cordelia’s thumb and finger lay on either side of your jaw as she continued to kiss you as if her soul depended on it. Her fingers interlocked with yours against the table.

She broke away, tears had fallen down her cheeks and made your heart melt. “Oh-ho,” you chuckled, mouth agape at her sight. “Why the tears, my love?”

Cordelia laughed, wiping away her tears. “I’ve longed to do that for so long,” she replied. “So, so long.”

You chuckled at her sweetness and the display of pure love that you were so unaccustomed to.

“I fell in love with you, Y/N. I don’t think I will ever stop falling in love with you. You’ve created this storm of beautiful chaos in me,” she continued. “Do you remember that night where I was really sleepy, so you let me just stay in your room? How I had fallen asleep on top of you by accident and you wrapped your arms around me and hummed a lullaby?”

You nodded, remember the feeling of waking up with the Supreme in your arms.

“I was wide awake,” she told you. A delicate smile arose.

You chuckled into her touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you replied, drawing her closer, her blonde hair twirled in your fingers. “I know you were.”

[katb357]

Sicktember 17: Fainting

J. Gage/R. DeSoto/OC/Emergency!

Adam Ratcliff was number one. He was the best paramedic trainee in his class. He was also a really nice guy. He was easygoing and genuinely cut out for the job. He was riding with John and Roy as a part of his training, and unlike other trainees they had worked with in the past, Adam fit right in with them. He worked hard, listened to the veteran team, was quick to do what he was told, and didn’t take on tasks he wasn’t trained for. Altogether, both of 51-A’s paramedics were very pleased with the recruit and the shift went smoothly.

 The afternoon got pretty rocky though, when there was an MVA on the 405 freeway and it was all hands on deck. Adam seemed to be everywhere at once as he helped with several rescues and even performed life-saving CPR on an older gentleman.  Things got a bit hairy when a young woman gave birth to her third child in the back of the family’s wrecked sedan, but Adam seemed unphased as he assisted John with the birth. John rode in with her.

Afterwards, Adam stayed with Roy, who had him bandage up a boy who had cut his hand on some window glass. By that time, other squads were working on other victims. They ended up riding to Rampart with a man who had a possible concussion and was unconscious. Roy went into Treatment Three with the victim and sent Adam to the nurse’s station to clean up and replenish their supplies. The three met back up and were cleared to return to the station, as Chet had brought the squad to Rampart for them and caught a ride back to the station himself on the Engine.

Sitting around the table at the station that evening, the men discussed Adam’s shift. Both John and Roy felt he had done well and told him so. Adam flushed with pride, and to cover his red face, he stood and went to grab a knife from the draw, and an apple from the fruit bowl. He began to peel the apple. His hand slipped and he managed to slice his palm. He yelped slightly, his eyes widened, he took one look at the blood… and fainted.

The others all looked at each other in amazement. Mike Stoker’s eyebrows rose. “Well, that was unexpected.”

Roy knelt beside Adam and started to slap his cheek when the other man opened his eyes and groaned. “I can’t believe that just happened.” John knelt down on the other side, and together they helped Adam onto the couch to check him over. He started to protest until he caught the look on Captain Stanley’s face, and subsided.

After being pronounced fit for duty, Roy asked the question they were all wondering about. “Did you know the sight of your own blood would make you faint? Other people’s blood obviously doesn’t bother you.”

“Believe it or not, that’s never happened before. I get a little woozy sometimes, but I’ve never passed out before. I don’t know why I reacted like that.”

Cap looked at Adam sternly. “Did you ever tell the department doctors about this?”

Adam shook his head. “Never really thought about it. I don’t get hurt very often, so I just…” he shrugged.

Cap shook his head. “We can’t sign you off for duty until you talk to the docs at Rampart. You faint like that on the job, you or someone else could get hurt.” Adam sighed but nodded his head. “Yeah, I get it.”

Meanwhile, John and Roy were standing and watching in silence, shocked at the turn of events. The kid was one of the best potential paramedics they had seen in a long time. It was a real shame.

Roy had an idea. “Look, maybe you can overcome this… talk to one of the department psychologists or something. You’re too good to just walk away, Adam. You gotta try.”

Adam brightened. “Yeah, maybe I will. Thanks Roy.”

He headed for the locker room. He wasn’t about to give up his dream… not for something as dumb as fainting.

The End

[clotpole-art]

Retrospective: Illustrated Merlin Alphabet Challenge

Finally finished the Merlin Alphabet Challenge, so here's the artist notes no one asked for! See below the cut for comments on each piece by order of creation. Be warned folks, it's a long post.

Before we begin: credit to @merlin-gifs for the challenge, which can be found here. It's awesome, go do it.

First thing you should know is I did probably 80-90% of these while on phone calls or in Zoom meetings and that's reflected in the simplicity of most pieces -- the compositions aren't complicated, the lines aren't refined, the coloring is slapdash. If you noticed variation in quality of the pieces, that's why!

Second: I tried to focus on trying something new for each drawing. Didn't always happen, but this challenge did succeed in helping me push me out of my own comfort zone.

Without further ado...

A is for Arthur Pendragon

Textures, baby! Brushed metal of his armor, scratchy linen texture of his shirt, wispy softness of hair and skin. I'd recently gotten my tablet out of storage after a year of figuring out where the hell I was going to live and this was one of the first pieces of digital art I spent time on. Glad it was Arthur kicking us off!

B is for the Beginning of the End (1x08)

Fun fact, I did not draw this with my tablet. I drew it with my work computer's touchscreen. It was awful, would not recommend.

C is for Camelot

I wanted to get used to different brushes, so landscape of the castle it was! There are brushes that help with drawing grass; I did not use said brushes and my wrist hurt afterward. That being said, I really enjoyed working on this and it was one of the few pieces I didn't do while multitasking.

D is for Daegal

Also drawn on my work computer's touchscreen, not my tablet. I didn't learn my lesson from B and the experience was even worse. This is my least favorite piece which sucks because it's Daegal so I'm slated to redo this sometime in the near future. Gotta do our boy justice.

E is for Elyan

Oh, I adored drawing this. Elyan often gets shafted in terms of fandom appreciation so I made sure to choose Elyan for this prompt and to participate in the Elyan fest. Plus, I love a good ghost story and figuring out a way to include the druid spectre was fun. Didn't multitask on this piece because Elyan deserved my full attention.

F is for Freya

Ho boy. This piece. I have such mixed feelings on this drawing. Really really didn't like it after I'd decided it was done and very nearly scrapped the whole thing. I had a vision in my head that I just couldn't render into reality and it frustrated me SO MUCH. Looking back, I like it much better than I did when I first created it.

G is for Gwaine

What can I say, he's pretty when he's cold. I didn't stretch too much with this one -- it's my normal drawing style, I was just trying to find a brush that mimicked the softness of pencil.

H is for Hunith

Another one that didn't stray too far from my comfort zone. I was stupid sick and slammed at work, so a motherly Hunith manifested herself. I blame the bad brush choice on the cold medicine.

I is for Isolde

I woke up and chose violence! Tried to vary my figure drawing style a little in this piece but my brain resisted, resulting in... this. Not mad at it, but not happy with it either. Poor Isolde.

J is for Juggling

Ah, this lovely piece was drawn during a particularly vexing meeting at work. Fun fact, there's another version of this line art that's less about Merlin's stress and more about mine.

K is for Knights of Camelot

Continuing the theme of doodling through bad news and shit meetings. Like I said above, normally meeting doodles aren't complex because I'm concentrating on something else. This one was more involved because I didn't want to concentrate on the meeting. I have a few issues with this from a technical standpoint (perspective, my nemesis) but it's still one of my favorites. Tried some funky coloring technique, didn't hate it.

V is for Vibrant Colors

And here is where we said fuck the rules and started going out of alphabetical order! This one was really fun to do and I loved kicking off Albion Party with this as my first submission. The colors were a challenge (as I hoped they would be) and this is the first time I had to do some color tweaking midway though and after finishing the coloring process. Vibrant Arthur, my beloved. This started as a multitask doodle but took dedicated time to finish.

O is for Old Religion

The concept for this one was buzzing in my head for a bit before a quote-prompt solidified it. I adore the thought of more visible, tangible representations of Merlin as the son of the elements, of "magic itself" -- not just sun-gold eyes, but sea-water hair and sandstone-skin. A complement to the vibrant Arthur portrait.

S is for Sorcerers

When I said I wanted to challenge myself, I wasn't kidding. Ho boy, this was fun but frustrating. I wanted to completely illustrate a gif. So I did. Will I do something like this again? Maybe. A while from now.

M is for Morgause

See above -- same illustrated gif style so at least I was able to reuse some drawings. Poor Morgause ended up looking a little wretched here because I was mentally done with this when I was drawing her. Love the concept of tarot cards + Merlin but others are doing it so I won't continue this series.

Z is for Zzzz

This one was specifically done to test out some custom brushes I made in Krita to make abstract background drawing easier for me. I think they turned out well! Plus who doesn't love bb iridescent Aithusa.

L is for Leon, P is for Percival

Quick, minimal doodles of the boys! Mentally, I was going for a Brady's-style retro ensemble cast TV show credits feel. Not mad at it! Some boys look closer to their actors than others (I think my brain broke drawing Percy, my apologies to Tom Hopper).

T is for Tristan

It wasn't until after I posted this that I realized there was more than one Tristan in Merlin. Could have drawn Isolde's bf but I drew Ygraine's dumb jock undead brother instead. Had some fun with dark greys and blacks here regardless.

Q is for Queen Annis

Best royal in Albion, bar none. I tried a different coloring technique here and I kinda like it! may make it my go-to but we'll see. Old habits are hard to break. Also: our queen deserved more badass clothes.

X is for Arthur X Merlin

Oh, be still my shipper heart. Doodled and colored during a meeting. I had hoped to spend more time on it outside of multitasking but alas, work is a bitch. This one is slated for a rework sometime in the future; I adore the concept too much to let it go without creating another version of this that isn't an utter mess.

U is for Uther's Ward

And here's my attempt at forgoing line art. Not fun, do not like.

Y is for Young Warlock

Channeled some pain into this one. Those are the dead eyes of someone who had been told that he'd succeeded when his friend died. That the destiny he'd been expecting to carry on his shoulders into old age was done and dusted before he turned 30. Grief plus the existential dread of the aimless immortal. Oof. One of my favs.

N is for Nimueh, R is for Rising Sun, W is for Will

And we end on this sorry offering. I was away from home for a while without my tablet and I just got tired of waiting. So, pen doodles at the airport. This was a challenge in its own right because 1. pen only and 2. I wasn't able to pull Netflix up for a reference on the fly. Which is why Will's face is obscured and Nimueh looks.... not like Nimueh lol.

In summary: this was a goddamn joy to do. I finished 26 letter prompts in approximately 21 weeks, which exceeded my own unspoken goal of filling one letter per week. I found a good, happy corner of the Merlin fandom after a years-long hiatus away from being a fandom creator. If you did make it this far with me, thanks for reading my inane comments and giving this little project even a moment of your time -- I'm so grateful.

[anika-ann]

No Strings Attached - Pt.1

Y/N vs. The Mutual Crash

Type: Modern-college-professor AU x CHUCK, part of Attached series More info here and on the Attached masterlist

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 2900

Summary for the series: When you literally run into a cute guy named Chuck in school hallway, you soon learn there is much more to him than meets the eye. Unfortunately for you, you learn the hard way.

What’s worse, the encounter sets events in motion you couldn’t imagine in your wildest dreams – and it make you question everything you know.

Warnings: for this chapter - tiny bit of 18+ nsfw smut in the beginning though it’s barely there, swearing, mention of a migraine... that’s it?

A/N: Just so I don’t spook you, we’ll start off easy… with a 2,9k chapter… enjoy and thank you if you’re giving this crossover a chance. You don’t need any knowledge of Chuck, not realy.

Attached & No Strings Attached masterlist

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Almost as soon as you woke up, there was a feeling in your gut; today was going to be strange. Strange in a way that you might not be entirely able to put a finger on, nothing all that special happening, but even though it was only half past six, you knew it was going to be one of those days.

Maybe it was the fact that you cautiously dropped a forehead kiss on Steve’s still sleeping form only to find out he was very much awake. His arms swiftly took a hold of your waist and pulled you on top of him, drawing a startled yelp from your lips, which he quickly silenced by a passionate good-morning kiss.

Maybe it was the fact that you nearly ended up being late.

You were not the only one waking up with a peculiar mood. After Steve’s kiss stole all air from your lungs, he was rolling the pair of you over, trapping you against the mattress, arousal evident, hands wandering and sneaking under your sleepshirt, trailing higher and higher until they reached one of his favourite playgrounds. The rest was history; it was quick and little sloppy but undeniably lustful. Still, it led to mutual satisfaction and to not having even remotely enough time to get ready for the day.

Maybe it was the e-mail Bucky sent yesterday at almost 10 p.m. informing his students that there would be a last-minute change of classroom, because special guests were coming to give a lecture. A lecture that started at 8 a.m.. You hated early morning classes; the only thing making them bearable was Bucky, because he was a damn good and funny professor.

God knew if the guests were about to be a blessing or a punishment. Either way, you had a hunch today was going to turn out kinda weird.

And you only had that confirmed as you rushed through the corridors, the home-made coffee in your opened thermo cup in hand—and suddenly it was gone.

Because you crashed into someone. Well, someone crashed into you. It was a mutual crash.

Point being – a hiss of pain escaped your lips, cup slipping from your fingers as the last remnants of coffee stained it, hands thrown in the air—only to slap the person’s shoulder in the process, because they happened to be in the way.

“Whoa!”

“Dammit!” you cursed, shaking your hand to distract yourself form the mild burn.

You eyed the puddle of brown liquid at your feet before your gaze moved up, noticing a few droplets on your jeans, and finally you fixed your gaze on your crashmate.

A relatively tall brunet stared at you, dark eyes wide, an apologetic expression on his face.

“I’m sorry!” you both blurted out at the same time.

Short awkward silence followed as you just kept staring at each other, unable to utter a word. And then you chuckled at the absurdity.

You noticed the guy’s lips curling up in a brief smile as you shook your head and went to find tissues in your backpack.

It wasn’t funny – more like annoying, actually. But you did find it funny. Maybe it was because you had a perfectly steamy morning quickie with your fiancé, making you giddy. Maybe it was because this guy, dressed in a grey shirt and black dress pants was kinda cute, the dark curls of his hair causing him to look rather endearing and charming at the same time and—he was smiling too. There was an air around him; a very friendly air.

“Oh, no, let me help!” he rushed to crouch by the offending puddle before you could even open your backpack and you swiftly lowered yourself too.

“It’s no problem, the cup was pretty much empty, luckily…” you mumbled, shooting him a forgiving smile. He met your eyes, one corner of his lips rising higher.

Oh no. He really was cute.

Now, after the mess with Daniel, you were wary of cute guys, even if it came to innocent flirting. But this one, your crashmate… well. There was something about him screaming ‘trust me’; with Daniel, when you looked back at your first encounter, everything screamed ‘smug jerk’.

The brunet reached for the pack of paper tissues you were holding and so you shrugged, handing him some. If he wanted to help, who were you to stop him? It was both yours and his fault.

“Well, I’m glad it wasn’t full and I didn’t go all Hugh Grant on you,” he uttered as you both worked.

You stared at his Converses for a full second and then it hit you, drawing a surprised laughed from you.

“Was that a Nothing Hill reference? Am I Julia Roberts in this scenario?”

He smiled unsurely at you, seeming rather embarrassed – but seeing your expression, he relaxed. “Yeah, but luckily, you’re not, because the cup was almost empty. Still sorry about the coffee though.”

Picking up the soaked tissues, you went to find the nearest trash can.

“Well, if I-“ didn’t let my fiancé fuck me raw when I was supposed to be getting ready for the day-  “-was watching where I was going, this wouldn’t have happened, so we’re good,” you assured him.

“Are you sure that I shouldn’t, eh,” he pointed somewhere behind him vaguely in a sweeping gesture, smile a smidge shy, ”run to the cafeteria or something to buy you a fresh cup?”

Alert! A guy’s asking you out!

And alert it was; after the fiasco with Daniel, you made it a point to cut things off before they could develop into a sticky situation.

“Oh! That’s really nice of you…?”

You didn’t remember seeing him around before. New student? An exchange student? Because it always went so well with those…

“Chuck.”

“Right, Chuck. Nice to meet you,” you quickly uttered, introducing yourself as well. “But I don’t really--- I, eh-“

You gave up and just awkwardly showed off your left hand. The beautiful ring that once belonged to Steve’s mother – and goddammit, wasn’t it still making you feel all soft and fuzzy – sitting on your ring finger.

Chuck’s gaze zeroed on the jewellery for a moment and then it seemed that something clicked in his brain. He swiftly raised his hands in a no harm gesture, brief panic crossing over his face.

”Oh no! That’s not what I meant, though--- congratulations, but I really didn’t mean to ask you out or something-“ he babbled, hands clenching and unclenching, toying with the belt-loops of his pants the next moment.

You felt your cheeks heat up. Was he trying to cover for the fact that he was embarrassed for wanting to ask you out or had you totally misjudged this situation?

“-though this totally was a meet-cute if I’ve ever seen one and it’s not that you’re not good-looking, I mean attractive and beautiful, because of course you are-“

Oh god, he wasn’t cute.

He was an adorable disaster! You didn’t even care what the truth was at this point.

“-but obviously you’re engaged and I really wasn’t making a move or anything—and I’m gonna have to stop talking right now,” he finished breathlessly, closing his eyes with a self-depreciating smile, his chest rising and falling as he was trying to calm down.

Your cheeks burned from smiling so wide, a cackle fighting its way past your lips. Even if you didn’t want to laugh at him.

“Okay, Chuck. I think I get what you’re saying,” you assured him and because he was clearly adorable, he warily cracked one eye open as if to check if the embarrassing situation you two found yourself in went away. When he noticed your smile, his tense shoulders relaxed, both eyes opening.

“I’m glad. I’m sorry for embarrassing us both. I might as well be that guy from Nothing Hill…”

You laughed – like honestly, nearly having to clutch your belly, laughed. You couldn’t help it.

“Well, you’re charming enough. But I’m afraid I’m no movie star in hiding.”

“You’re cute enough to be one, no discussion here,” he said, his twinkling eyes gave your face a very quick once-over. Somehow, you found his compliment both funny and flattering. A lopsided grin appeared on his face, twisting into a grimace as he hesitantly raised his finger. “But, if we’re talking meet-cutes, I’m afraid I’m more of a Richard Gere here… I got a little bit lost. Point me the right direction, please?”

Whoa, he was stepping up, talking Pretty Woman now. You really liked that dorky comment though.

“Where you headin’?”

“2.34?”

You blinked in surprise, wondering if you heard wrong. Because that was where you were heading.

“Oh? Interesting…” you muttered, earning a curious head tilt from him. Glancing again at your jeans, you grimaced. Those stains had to go… guess direction would have to do. “Yeah, that one is a little tricky… and dumb. You have to go through 2.33. Not that there’s any badge on the door on anything.”

He gasped theatrically. “Tricky!”

“I know! It’s a test of our interhuman skills; can’t really finding without asking someone first. I’ll see you there, I suppose, gotta clean up the cup and… well, me.”

“I’m sorry, again. And thank you,” Chuck said politely, sending you a final smile.

“You’re welcome, Chuck.”

Here’s a thing about hunches: sometimes, they come true.

Being run down in a hallway was nothing too weird, oh no. Not even when a funny charming guy was involved.

Things only got weird when you entered the lecture hall and finally realized why was Chuck heading to the same room as you did. He stood next to Bucky at the professor’s stand, quietly talking to a stunning blond woman in a dress suit and glasses.

Feeling blood rushing to your head, setting your cheeks aflame in embarrassment, you went to find a seat, noticing everyone was sitting with a space of at least three seats between them and never behind. As if you were about to write an extremely important test. Great.

Could this day get any better?

Two taps sounded through the room as Bucky tried the microphone.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Well, good for some of us, at least,” Bucky stated, unmistakably finding you in the crowd as if he knew exactly how your morning went – at least the part before you left the apartment. You wanted to sink through the floor – and wasn’t that a familiar feeling under Bucky’s knowing gaze. “Find your seats, please, so we can start. We have some special guests from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs today with us to present you a special program you can apply to, so… you know. Pay attention. They’ll tell you the rest.”

Oh, so you had run into a guy from Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Spectacular.

To be fair, he had been a dork. How were you supposed to tell he was important?! He was still pretty cute standing there.

Also: the blonde by his side? Yeah. You understood now why he reacted the way he did earlier. Because if he knew a woman like that, the idea he was trying to ask you out – or anyone, really – was laughable. Hell, you’d ask her out.

“Morning, my name is Charles Carmichael and this is my colleague, Sarah Walker,” Chuck started off pleasantly, if little nervous from having all eyes on him.

“Like your professor said, we’re here to present you… with an opportunity to get a training for special analyst in one of departments. And before you ask why we’re ambushing a history class when we’re looking to fill an analyst vacancy…”

Several people laughed and you did too – he sounded like the guy from the hallway, only a bit more presentable.

“-it’s because we really talk about this with pretty much every student on this university, so you can see we have a lot of presentations still ahead. Anyway, I’m gonna talk a bit about the program and about our ministry in general, so… yeah. Please listen carefully and watch carefully too. Spoiler: it’s important. Thanks.”

The lights dimmed and he started the presentation, slowly pulling you in and making you forget the incident in the hallway.

And despite his charming ways… the presentation was rather strange too.

It was just one of those strange days.

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You didn’t think there would be anything to add insult to the injury, to turn into the so-called cherry on top.

You were wrong.

Chuck, or Charles Carmichael, was an alright presenter. He remained a dorky character, only enough to hold all of the students’ attention, that was quite okay. It was the pictures that appeared in between those images that felt perfectly in place, that were… just weird. Like… a rose. A beach. New York skyline. Pictures that were not at all related to what he was talking about. He always played it off as a joke – supposedly placing them there to keep you on your toes – but there was something that just felt… off.

And during what you later found out was like the last third of the presentation, you felt a headache starting to build. Not a terribly intense one, but strong enough to be fairly annoying and insistent on bugging you, just above your eyebrows. You couldn’t remember your head ever hurting in such way.

Then things got worse; you indeed got a test to complete. The nice people from Ministry of Foreign Affairs told you not to worry about getting it wrong affecting your marks in your course, obviously, so you didn’t, not really.

But it was hard to ignore that it was the weirdest fucking test you had ever seen.

In each task, pick five of ten words you associate with the word in question, read the instructions. Which on its own could be considered strange, but… it was the supposedly associated words that truly confused the heck out of you.

For ‘rose’ there were clear answers like ‘thorn’ and ‘flower’. The rest of the offered words? Non-sense. Like—utter nonsense. Bulldog, Victoria, Sao Paolo, camp, mirror, Tower Bridge, eagle, heroin. You stared at the words, reading them over and over, the pressure in your forehead growing more vexing by the minute.

For some inexplicable reason, your mind kept on gravitating towards the Sao Paolo, eagle and heroin; surprisingly vivid images of each flashing behind your eyelids as you closed them to relieve the headache. The light was starting to hurt your eyes despite being rather low. It was irritating.

Deciding the stupid test didn’t matter, you went with the first thing that came to your mind for each question, finishing among the firsts. It was rather relieving to see everyone’s face as confused as you imagined your looked.

Leaving the class, you spared Chuck one last glance, finding him staring at you with eyebrows furrowed; brief glance at Bucky told you why, for he wore the very same expression. It seemed that you weren’t very good at masking your suffering. You attempted a lame smile, knowing that you were about to ditch the class that followed.

Catching up with Linda, one of the girls who were with you in Callahan’s class, you begged her to give him your apology; the headache was turning into a splitting damn migraine.

Linda shot you a compassionate smile and assured you she would vouch for you looking absolutely terrible and having no other option than leaving.

“Thanks,” you chuckled weakly, nails digging into your palms as a mild case of vertigo threatened to throw you completely off balance.

“Hey, do you want me to call someone? Take you to the infirmary?” Linda worried, sporting a textbook example of having concern written all over her face. “Not joking, you do look like you’re gonna pass out. Rogers’ gonna be out for blood if he finds out I talked to you and let you wander off in this state.”

The image of Steve stalking down the hallway with an exasperated expression on his face searching for your classmate seemed rather amusing; but that was unlikely to happen.

“Nah, he should be all sunshine. Lots of endorphins released this morning,” you mumbled, absently rubbing at your forehead.

You only realized what you said when a dramatic silence followed, soon broken by Linda’s snort of laughter. The shock of you blatantly revealing something like that in your compromised state helped you to focus a bit more, bringing some clarity to your vision.

“I so didn’t need to know that. Good thing I have Callahan now and not him, I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye. I’d be imagining him shirtless with a perfect case of bed hair. Gosh, you’re such a lucky bitch.”

“Don’t I know it,” you offered with another weak smile.

“I’m sure you do,” she hummed, lightly patting your shoulder. “Now you get home safe and get some rest.”

“Thank you, Linda. Really.” She only shrugged it off as if it was nothing. The friendly display brought an honest smile to your face and caused you to perk up enough to joke. “Oh, and Steve usually sleeps in a t-shirt, sorry to break it to you. But his bed hair is dreamy.”

“…I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

She would have if you added that the rumour about Professor Rogers being true. That he was indeed packing.

With a smirk at that thought alternating with a grimace whenever a sharp pain hit the back of your head, you headed home.

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Part 2

About

Chuck characters

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Thank you for reading :-*

In case you missed one of my way too many announcements, in Chuck, every episode was named Chuck vs. Something. I decided to keep the theme and go against my usual not-so-frequent use of Y/N in my stories.

P.S. – if any of this felt familiar to Chuck fans, know, some of the plot is a big nod to episode 1x07 Chuck vs. the Alma Mater. It’s one of my faves for many reasons – the plot, hilarious lines, the LOTR references… Honestly, they had me at this scene (0:05 – 0:25  though you can watch the full 2 min, obviously)  

Anika Ann out

[spritewrites]

time travel doesn’t change everything

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: the Hargreeves siblings

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Hi everybody! This is a collaborative fic (wow!) that @ticklishhargreeves and I have been working on for a while, based on an idea that we came up with together about three weeks ago. We wanted to incorporate a bunch of the headcanons we’ve come up with recently into a fic. We hope you enjoy!!

Allison’s room could best be described as a bit of a time capsule; posters from the beginning and middle of her career, drawings that she’d made and been gifted as a child, and family photos in the form of newspaper clippings. Going through the drawers and boxes under her bed provided nearly endless entertainment. A small gasp escaped from her grin when she pulled out one specific piece of paper that she’d forgotten about — a somewhat poorly drawn chart that depicted each of the Hargreeves siblings’ most ticklish spots. The tickle fights they’d had as children were sparse, considering they only really had free time for about an hour a week, but damn, were they competitive. This was the cheat sheet that she’d made to always get the upper hand. 

The colored pencil had smudged a bit, but Allison could still make out the faint markings of each of her brothers’ names. She smiled to herself, leaning back on a stack of books to read the chart. They’d been so young then, but she could still hear their laughter echoing down the mansion hallways, as clear as anything. She let out a small laugh at a note in the margin: Ask Mom for acrylic nails before next week.

“Everything okay?” Luther was leaning against her door frame, just a bit bigger than when they were kids, but still with that same kind smile. She smiled back.

“Just reminiscing. Check this out!” She held up the faded piece of paper for him to read.

“No way!” the large figure exclaimed, gently taking the chart from Allison’s hand and sitting on the side of her bed to look at it. “This is from all our —” 

“Tickle fights,” Allison interrupted with a laugh, “yeah. Crazy, right?”

“Yeah,” an awkward chuckle from Luther masked the slight nervousness he felt reading his name accompanied by the bullet-pointed notes: squeeze his calves, scribbles under toes, tops of feet are weirdly ticklish??, kicks a lot. “God, I haven’t been tickled in… years, probably.”

“You were so cute,” Allison giggled, and Luther wasn’t entirely sure that he liked the look she was giving him. “I wonder if this is still accurate.”

Luther cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, um, no way to know for sure, so-”

She had tackled him to the bed before he even knew what was happening. “Only one way to find out.”

She sat across his knees - “You kick, remember?” - and gave one of his calves a squeeze. Luther bolted upright, gasping.

“Um, I think there’s another way to find out! See, I could just tell you-”

“No,” Allison smiled, squeezing again and enjoying the desperate noise her brother made. “I’ve gotta test it to know for sure.”

He got as far as “Wait, Allison, please-” before he was choking back giggles, trying to worm his way out of Allison’s hold as her long nails skated over his ankles. She grinned.

“Okay, so squeezing your legs still definitely works. How about your feet?”

“No!” Luther cried, burying his face in a pillow and nearly squealing as she traced gentle lines over his soles. Allison giggled at the sound, scribbling over his heels and leaning forward to keep his straining legs from kicking.

“Feet are still pretty bad too. Thank God the serum didn’t affect these, huh?” She skittered her nails around the tops of his feet, and Luther let out a screech into his pillow. It was taking all of his strength to not… well, use his strength. 

“You remember that pedicure I dragged you into, right?” she laughed at the memory, and again at Luther’s quick nod into the pillow.

The screech turned into an uncharacteristically high-pitched yelp when Allison held his toes back with one hand, and skittered beneath them with the other. Finally, he’d began to laugh an endearingly childlike giggle. “AH - Allison,” he attempted to catch his breath with a forceful gasp as his massive arms squeezed the pillow to his face, and his legs shook, “Allison!”

Allison laughed at him and his sounds, almost not wanting to stop. “Alright, alright, I don’t want to kill you. Not yet, anyway.” She rolled off his legs to lay next to him on the bed, grinning from ear to ear. “Looks like your weak spots are still the same!”

Luther groaned, trying to catch his breath through the pillow (he wasn’t confident enough in the color of his face yet to look at her). “That was mean.”

“Hey, I was just consulting the chart!”

“You wrote the chart!”

“And I stand by it,” she teased, giving his leg a poke that made him twitch. She grabbed the paper and left the room, satisfied that her victim was suitably tickled out.

Luther rolled onto his back, panting. “Screw that chart.”

—

As she was leaving the room, Allison couldn’t help but notice the absence of Vanya’s name on the chart. It wasn’t a surprising fact. They never included her in anything as children, not even tickle fights. This fact still broke Allison’s heart, but of course, with the opportunity to make up for lost time, it’d be foolish not to take it… right? 

After spotting her much smaller sister reading on the couch, Allison made her way downstairs and plopped down right next to Vanya with a grin. 

Ever since their trip to the 60s, the sisters certainly developed a strong bond. Allison was, quite possibly. the one sibling that Vanya felt the most comfortable with; Klaus being a close second. Her attention drew away from the book in her hands, and towards her smiling sister. “Hey, Allison.” Vanya smiled, setting her book down, saving her place.

“Hey, um,” Allison subtly hid the chart by her other side, raising an eyebrow with a mischievous glint in her eye, “Vanya, are you ticklish? By any chance?” 

“Uh,” Vanya chuckled, shifting awkwardly with a shrug, “I - I think so. I mean, sometimes Sissy would touch my neck and it would feel kinda funny. Like the back, right here?” She touched the back of her neck to show her scheming sister exactly where she was ticklish. Big mistake.

“Oh,” Allison chuckled, not expecting this to be so easy. She sneakily reached her arm around the back of the couch, “Like, right… here?” 

Vanya twitched, letting out something akin to a squeak as her shoulders jumped up beside her ears. “I think - hey!” Her sister had begun tracing wicked fingers along the crease of her neck, her nails sliding effortlessly between the wrinkles to get at the weakest points. Vanya scrunched like a turtle, reaching back to swat at the offending hands, but the light touch made her limbs turn to jelly and her effort was not very coordinated. The endless stream of bubbly giggles, however, was new. 

Allison’s face lit up. “Looks like you are ticklish.”

Understatement of the century. Vanya opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a squeal when Allison’s tickles wandered down from her neck and over her shoulders, sneaking pokes in under her arms. 

“Where else, I wonder…” Allison mused, and slid her hands down her sister’s sides. Vanya’s spine nearly snapped with how quickly she arched her back, letting out a gasp. “Oh, here?”

“Allison, please!”

“Please what?” She tapped a nail on the curve of Vanya’s waist, prompting a high-pitched giggle. Vanya shook her head, seemingly struck dumb by the overwhelming feeling. Another pinch to her side, and she wriggled, curling in on herself. Unfortunately, this left the back of her neck unguarded, and with a smile, Allison reached to tickle her there. 

Vanya squealed. “Please, I can’t - mercy!”

Allison laughed at her sister’s reactions, easing off to just rub her shoulders. “Okay, so, neck and sides? Those are the big ones?”

The sigh of relief that escaped Vanya was soothing. “I - I guess so. I think?”

“Well, I still have more exploring to do, but I can be merciful for now,” Allison replied with a wink. “I’ll add you to the chart.”

“Chart?”

“Yeah, see?” She pulled out the piece of paper. Vanya’s eyes lit up.

“Oh my God, this is adorable. How old were we when you made this?”

Allison smiled. “I don’t know, ten maybe? We used to have these epic battles…” She trailed off, catching her sister’s eyes. “I’m sorry we didn’t - ”

Vanya held up a hand to silence her. “It’s okay. I’m included now.” She raked her gaze over the paper in her hands. “Luther was ticklish on his feet?”

Allison couldn’t stop her laugh. “Still is, I just tested it.”

“Shit, that’s goddamn… cute. All of these are so cute,” she said with a smile.

“Aren’t they?” Allison replied, snatching the paper once again with a cunning smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some notes to update and some experiments to run.”

—

It seemed like whenever she saw Klaus, he was always talking to some ghost. Usually arguing with them. Sometimes flirting, you never know. The conversation that Allison walked in on today, however, was definitely not flirting.

“Just shut up, you don’t have a goddamn clue… That’s what I said, you never fucking listen to - Allison!”

She paused in the doorframe, amused. “Am I interrupting?”

“What, this?” Klaus gestured vaguely at the armchair across from him. “Nah, nothing important. Just bonding, you know how it is.” He seemed to disconnect from Allison for a second, listening, and then shot a glare at the armchair. “Dickwad.”

Allison clapped her hand over her mouth at the insult, but not quickly enough to stop the laugh that escaped. Whoever it was, they had pissed Klaus off. “Okay, well, I was just going through some of my old stuff, and I found…” She pulled out the wrinkled piece of paper. “This.”

Klaus’ eyebrows furrowed. “Okay… What is that?”

“A chart I made when we were young, to win those fights we used to have.”

“What fights?” Before Allison could answer, her brother’s gaze flicked to the armchair and back to her. “The tickle fights? You made a… what did you say, a chart?”

She nodded. “It’s detailed.”

Klaus laughed. “So organized! Let me see -” He reached up, but she snatched it out of his grasp. 

“Nope, this is valuable information. But, I could let you see… if you participate in the experiment I’m running.”

Rolling green eyes, Klaus scoffed and lifted his arms up, a playful smile on his face as he looked away. He clearly already knew exactly what these so-called experiments were; perhaps Vanya’s laughter from downstairs was a giveaway. 

A smile played on Allison’s lips. She remembered how Klaus never really hated tickles, and acknowledged the note by his name: asks to be tickled all the time, listed alongside others such as SUPER ticklish armpits, tapped his hips once and he squeaked? maybe he’s ticklish there too? Haven’t tried yet. She laughed, launching her tickling fingers towards Klaus’ armpits, only to be stopped by him slamming his arms down at the last second.

“Sorry, sorry. Instinct,” he smiled, already giggling a bit, before lifting his arms again.

All of a sudden, his elbows shot down towards his hips as he choked on his laughter, “B-Ben! No!” Klaus collapsed to the floor within seconds, kicking his legs and screeching.

Allison smiled. Of course, only Ben could rile her brother up like that. Squinting, she smirked, noticing the placement of Klaus’ slapping hands, “Klaus? Ben’s not getting your hips, is he?” 

The silly noises he'd been making between silent laughter was accompanied by a desperate nod, messing up his long hair.

“Good!” Allison exclaimed, a bubbly tone to her voice, before lowering herself to the floor next to her flailing brother. “What a long overdue discovery.” Her pinch to his left hip felt more real than Ben’s spidery ghost tickles, and he squeaked. Her hands moved quickly, though, to lodge themselves under his arms while he was distracted.

The yelp that left Klaus’ mouth was loud enough to make Allison flinch slightly, but her hands stayed put. “Allison,” he whined, squeezing his arms to his sides as he simultaneously tried to roll away from Ben’s way-too-tangible thumbs digging into his hip bones.

She raised her eyebrows curiously as she twitched her fingers ever so slightly, relishing in the squirms and adorable gasps that followed. 

When Allison began to wiggle all ten of her fingers, plus the other ten digits, both on his worst spots, his eyes squeezed shut as his squeaks and laughs rose yet another octave. Curling in on himself, he shook his head, unable to shake either of his ruthless tickle-monster siblings.

“Tickie, tickie, tickle!” Allison cooed as she laughed along with him.

“What's wrong, Klausie? I thought you loved tickie, tickie, tickles.” Ben’s words were snide and Klaus could practically hear his stupid grin.

High-pitched giggles rolled out of his mouth as he grabbed onto a nearby throw pillow. “Stopstopstop, okay! Okay, jeez!” It was obvious that he wasn't that desperate for the tickles to stop; he really just needed a breather. Klaus threw the pillow in an attempt to hit Ben, but it just phased through him. Ben stuck his tongue out. 

“Asshole,” Klaus grumbled at his invisible brother. Allison laughed again, before leaning over to whisper something into Klaus’ ear. A noticeable smile washed over his face as he looked directly at his ghost brother, crawling towards him.

Ben's eyes widened as he stumbled backwards, falling back onto the armchair. His arms flailed, not knowing how to defend himself since it had been such a long time.  “Nonono, Klaus, what did she tell you? – EEP!” His reaction to Klaus’ quick and repetitive pokes to his stomach was immediate. 

The notes on the chart read really squeaky, ribs and stomach (but be careful!!!), starts begging after mere seconds, & very gullible, so easy to tickle. Ben had always been super easy to trick into getting tickled when they were younger; asking him to reach things in high up cabinets, challenging him to keep his arms up, and tons of tickle hugs.

He hadn’t been tickled since before he died, but it was just as unbearable as he remembered. He couldn’t hold back a squeak as Klaus prodded around the soft area just below his ribs, throwing an arm over his face to hide his blush. 

Klaus threw his head back and laughed. “Awww, I forgot that you were so sensitive, Benny! Guess now we know what’ll happen when you make fun of me, hmm?”

Ben wanted more than anything to snap back at his brother, but couldn’t possibly reply around his high-pitched giggle fit, so he settled on a squeal. “Allison! H-help!”

“She can’t hear you,” Klaus cooed, racing his fingertips up Ben’s ribs to elicit another adorable squeak, clearly amused. 

Allison laughed at the image of her brother kneeling on the floor, ruthlessly attacking absolutely nothing. “No, but I can picture it. Remember those physical exams that Grace would give us?” 

Every month, in order to keep them all in tip-top shape for missions, Grace would perform physical examinations. These exams, of course, included lots of pressing and prodding tummies with her cold robot hands, much to Diego and Ben’s dismay. Diego would often need to have a break after ten seconds, but Ben would always just giggle his little heart out, and could never sit still, try as he might.

Klaus giggled too. “Of course, dear little Benjamin could never stand those. Could you, Benerino?” Their brother merely cackled in response, batting helplessly at the tickling fingers. God, if this didn’t end soon, he was going to die again. Could ghosts die again?

“I… neeheed AIR, you asshole!”

“No you don’t,” Klaus replied simply, pinching at the skin right above his belly button. Ben shrieked, flailed, and ended up rolling off the armchair onto the ground. Klaus took it as a cue to stop and sat back, grinning at his work.

“What’s he look like?” Allison asked, not even trying to hide her sadistic smile.

Klaus grinned at the rumpled pile of ghost on the floor, who flipped him off. “Like shit.”

“Fuck off,” Ben replied, but he was smiling. Mission accomplished.

—

Diego frequently sat in his room alone, doing God knows what. The minute that Allison walked in, he was just twirling one of his knives in his hand. Turning around to look at his sister, who had been smiling at a piece of paper, his brows furrowed, “What?” 

Allison couldn’t help but chuckle to herself as she read the notes beside her stoic brother’s name: ticklish EVERYWHERE, pokes make him squirm, sometimes cries at tummy tickles, GET HIS BELLYBUTTON, & make sure he’s not holding anything. She remembered fondly how her and her brothers would always gang up on him and tickle him until he cried. Grace always had to step in to get them to stop. She cleared her throat, and looked over at him, turning the paper around to face him, “Remember this?” 

“Oh, ... yeah, from those - those fights we had when we were kids. Yeah.” Diego placed his knife down on the desk, and moved to stand up, subtly trying to escape what he feared was about to happen. 

“Hm, what kind of fights were those?”

“You - y’know. The -… the wrestling and stuff.” He silently cursed his sister for trying to make him say it; she knew that he absolutely hated the word, both hearing it and saying it… and experiencing it. Diego pretended to nonchalantly pace away in order to exit the room, only to make his way into the corner farthest from the door, where Allison was inconveniently standing. 

“I heard a rumor… that you can’t move until I start tickling you.” Allison sped up the last part of her rumor, making it so he couldn’t cover his ears as he typically used to. Walking over to him, she grinned and wiggled her fingers in the air, eyeing his torso.

A grunt left Diego’s already reluctantly smiling mouth as he attempted to tug on his legs in order to move, “Dammit! Screw you, Allison! - ACK!” His eyes squeezed shut, embarrassed at the slight giggle that he’d let out without her even touching him yet. 

“What is it, Diego? Surely, you've grown out of letting a few tickly fingers take you down?” Allison teased, poking his tummy with her two index fingers.

A snort escaped his mouth in an attempt to stifle the giggle fit that was bound to start as he doubled over. He tried to use his regained mobility to make a break for it, but it was too late. The momentum from the force he'd been using in his attempts to get away pushed him to the floor. He was absolutely cornered.

“Nonono — I-I, yes, I have grown out of it!” The way his arms were wrapped around his torso and the quick pace of his words, however, told a different story. “I’m seri - NO,” he yelped before dissolving into a squirmy puddle of silent giggles. Allison’s digits were swiftly poking and scratching at any spot they could reach.

“You’re what? Cereal? Serene? Can’t be serious; you’re giggling too much for that, silly.” Ever since they were children, Diego always seemed to bring out Allison’s most brutal teases. “It seems to me that you still might be the most ticklish one in this house, Diego! Tell me, how does it feel to have such a title?” She’d been able to latch her hands onto the sides of his stomach before wiggling her fingers into them. 

His laughter rose in volume when he opened his mouth to speak, “I-It tickles! - Shit, shit,” he squealed over Allison’s coos, “Sh-sh-shut up!” Saying the word, along with his embarrassingly childish reactions to such simple touches, was enough to redden his face. A squawk left his mouth when he felt a clawed hand digging into his lower tummy, dangerously close to his bellybutton. 

Allison stopped for a second, glancing down at both of Diego’s hands clutching onto her single hand on his stomach, and back up at her uncontrollably giggling brother. The grin on her face was the only thing that preceded her free hand flying straight towards his unguarded navel. 

Diego weakly pushed at her hands as he kicked his legs and screamed. His cackles now echoed through the whole house. Both of her hands were squaring in on his stomach and fuck, he couldn’t take it. “Allison - fuck! I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, oh my God, stop,” Diego rambled quickly between gasps of laughter, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, much to his own chagrin, and Allison’s amusement.

He was just so fun to tickle. He always had been. Of course, Allison knew he wasn’t going to die; he was just over dramatic sometimes. “What’s the magic word?”

“F-Fuck off,” he growled.

Allison mimicked a buzzer noise as she continued to tickle and poke around Diego’s hypersensitive midriff, even adding a few pokes to his thigh, and pinches to his triceps, “Wrong.” She laughed at the rather adorable image of her brother, curled up in the corner of his room, hands flailing in an attempt to get the tickles to stop, and twitching away from every little touch. He really was ticklish just about everywhere. 

“I've gotta tell Lila about this,” Allison chuckled, making a mental note. “Imagine her finding out that you're ticklish on your shoulders. And your chest? She's gonna have a field day, I know it.”

A squeal, “Noho, okay, okay, please! Pleasepleaseplease, fuck,” he rolled over, yelling when the tickles didn’t stop, “Fucking please, Allison! Pleehease.”

“All right, you big baby!” She decided to finally let up, chuckling at the residual giggles that escaped Diego’s mouth. 

He clutched his stomach, wheezing. “Christ, I fucking… forgot what that felt like.” A warning look was shot towards his sister, “Don't you dare tell her.”

Allison grinned, poking him again and brightening when she was rewarded with a yelp. “I think we all did, and…” a quick spider over his tummy got him to curl up again, “I think I just might.”

—

Allison clutched the chart firmly in her fist, making her way up the many flights of stairs. Last but not least. She glanced at the notes by the scrawled out ‘Number Five:’ says he's not ticklish but we know he is, flinches when anyone touches his knees (especially the left one), and hiccups a lot after laughing really hard.

Bursting into his room, Allison, expecting him to be doing… well, whatever old man stuff he liked to do, was surprised to find her brother fast asleep in his bed. After all he’d been through, experiencing the apocalypse twice & back to back, he certainly deserved a nap or twelve. 

One thing that all of the siblings agreed on, though silently, was that Five was utterly adorable when he was asleep, and not snapping at anyone. Surely, just a smidge less adorable than when… 

A poke to the blanketed figure made his snoring breaths hitch, and then they continued as normal.

He’d napped long enough, Allison thought to herself, not knowing if he’d been sleeping for two minutes or two hours. Nothing could beat her infinite curiosity, though, about just where dear old Fivey was ticklish. It had been far too long, and she knew he was at least a little bad on his knees but there was no way that could be all. That little body definitely held tons of bottled up laughter over the years that just had to be let out.

Of course his right leg was sticking out of the mass of comforter and sheets. Of course it was. 

Allison quickly spidered her fingers right above the hem of his grey knee socks, that he even wore to bed, apparently. 

A sudden jerking motion under the covers followed as he stopped snoring.

“Fiiive,” Allison crooned in a somewhat warning tone. No answer. She pinched the sides of his knee, only to be awarded with a twitch and a “cough” that was far too loud to pass off as a cough. 

“Fuck off, Allison,” Five’s sleepy voice, muffled by the pillow, piped up.

“Okay, rude,” she replied, going in for the kill, skittering all five of her nails over his knee cap.

He internally cursed at the choking sound that escaped his throat, as he pulled his leg under the covers, in order to provide some defense. The blanket reshaped itself as he curled up, and Allison thought she heard a grumpy sigh through the fabric.

“Y’know, you might’ve spent almost 50 years without other people, but I would’ve thought that you’d remember at least some of your manners.” Another sigh. “No apology? Fine then.”

Allison sat right down on Five’s bed, and grabbed his left ankle, pulling it out from under the covers.

Before he could teleport away, he felt unbearably light and spidery tickles along the back of his knee. A screech that he couldn’t hope to suppress left his mouth, but only took seconds for the bubbly giggles, and the violent kicking, to begin. 

Allison’s steady hold on Five’s ankle turned out to be a major asset to her attack as his whole body thrashed around, tangling himself in his blanket and sheets. She couldn't help but flinch at the frantic movements and his other foot weakly pushing at her hip.

“Good to see little Five still has those tickly, tickly knees!” 

“Allison! Fucking,” he squeaked, unable to hold back the helpless laughter, “Fuck you! I’m gonna - ACK,” another giggle. “Dammit! I’ll fucking kill you!”

The giggles laced with threatening screams were delightfully familiar. “Sure you will, Giggles,” she teased, prodding and squeezing around his entire knee, adding some occasional rib tickles into the mix to make him twitch. 

Five’s hands flickered blue, but there was no way he could teleport with how unfocused he was. He felt like he was going crazy. It had been ages since he'd laughed so freely, let alone been tickled; certainly since before he left. The sensation, so completely disarming while also frustratingly familiar, overwhelmed him.

“Fuck you, I swear - shit! Oh my fucking g- Allison!”

“Yes?” She stuck her tongue out in concentration, digging into the spot just above his kneecap that made him scream. 

Five was in hell. His hands were still glowing, but never enough to do anything goddamn useful. He could feel his leg twitching, trying to kick, but Allison was merciless, and she had a lot more practice tickling his thirteen-year-old body than he had fighting off her adult reflexes. The giggles pouring out of his mouth were starting to grow hoarse, though, and he was pretty sure that if this kept up much longer, he’d actually go crazy.

“F-fine!”

“What was that?”

“I said - ” The tickling stopped, but his eyes locked on where Allison’s lethal nails were still hovering over his ribs. Flushed, he choked back a giggle. “I said fine, you fucking - ”

“Fine what?” Allison aimed a poke at the space between two ribs and he jerked.

“Fine, I’m sorry!” The hands withdrew, and Five curled into himself, breathing heavily through the last remaining chuckles. Allison blew on two fingertips like a gun, and dodged the smack that Five sent her way. 

“Fuck off. Hic.”

Allison’s eyes lit up. “There they are!”

“Huh? What are you - hic - talking about?” Five grumbled, pulling his knees into his chest and sucking in a big breath to try to stop the hiccups.

She grinned, pulling out the chart, and resisting the urge to reach out and poke his puffed cheeks. “I took notes.”

Five’s eyes widened, and he let out his breath, looking vaguely… impressed. “Holy shit. You’re thorough.” His eyes scanned over her scribbled words. “Diego? Really?”

Allison chuckled. “Really. I’m surprised you forgot, he’s the worst of all of us. Even worse than you.”

Five’s nose wrinkled, and he let out a childish snort. “Serves him right.”

“Oh, shut up, you ticklish little son of a bitch.” Diego muttered from the doorway... alongside Klaus, Vanya, and Luther.

Five spun and internally cursed at himself at the blush growing on his face, wondering how long the rest of his siblings had been there watching him get absolutely wrecked.

“I know you are but what am I,” he snapped back at his bigger but younger brother, who’d lunged towards him, ready for a battle.

Diego was blocked by Allison though, and he stopped, knowing not to cross her while she was in the terrifying mood she’d been in all day.

“Guys, enough. Can’t we have just one fun day without you at each other’s throats?”

“Y’know what, Allison, I know I didn’t get a very close look but…” Klaus clicked his tongue as his strong brows furrowed, “I don’t think I saw your name on that little chart.” He made his way over to his other siblings with an unmistakable glint in his eye and grabbed the chart from his sister’s hand. 

Allison always did have the upper hand in all their tickle fights, and now they all knew why.

“W-well, that’s because I made it.” The look that her family exchanged did not go unnoticed, and she stepped backwards, ending up stumbling onto Five’s bed. “Hey, hey guys, wait - ”

The chart was updated that day; Vanya’s handwriting scrawled next to Allison’s name, alongside cackly laughter, super ticklish neck and armpits!!!, accidentally kicked Luther in the head, & best sister ever.

[hoeforpoeanddin]

NSFW Alphabet: Poe Dameron

Poe Dameron x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: NSFW so begone underage peeps. Mention of breeding kink and pregnancy

AN: Happy May the 4th! May the force be with ya kids. NSFW under the cut! Also I curse a lot.

Masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very cuddly when y’all are at the base. After cleaning you up, he cleans himself and you two cuddle in bed, if you two have the time to do so. Sweet words, so many kisses and lots of touches are incorporated.

If y’all just had a quickie and Poe has to bounce, he’d give you so many kisses and as he runs to the door, he’d tell you that he’d miss you and everything. If it’s you who’s gotta go, Poe would be giving you them puppy eyes, silently begging you not to leave.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He KNOWS that he’s got a nice bootay. Oh he does. But he’s proud of his arms too, especially when you put your hand on them.

On you, everything. But if he has to pick, he’d definitely go with your ass/hip/thighs area. Love how they feel pressed against his body, under his hands and with his lips. To kiss though, he loves your neck. If he could, he’d munch on it forever. nom nom eat up Poe Dameron

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ideally, he would like to cum inside you. The intimacy of feeling his cum in you is addicting. Watching your hole filled with his release satisfies something primal in him and he could stare at it forever. At the same time, he doesn’t mind going down on you after he emptied his balls into you. Tasting the result of you and his lovemaking doesn’t gross him out.

After returning from a mission where he couldn’t really take care of himself, he’d cum thick and a lot. On those occasions, he’d love to cum on your face or chest to brand you, if you are into that.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not so much a secret because it’s obvious and you’ve noticed it already, but he LOVES to stare at the part you two are connected. A visual reminder of the closeness of you two, how well you’re taking him and how wet you two are. He loves all of it and he’d tell you.

Also, he would love to fuck you in a meeting. But even the risk of getting caught is too high for this adrenaline loving flyboy, so he just fantasizes about it. Or settles with fingering you in one.

As a former spice runner, he knows what spices can do to you so he definitely wants to try some with you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He knows that he’s doing and he does it well because of the past experiences he’d had, whether that be one night stances, FWB relationships, or past relationships.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position that he gets to see your face, cup your cheeks and kiss you, HE LOVES. Missionary, spread eagle, cowgirl and the list goes on. He would like to stare into your eyes and see how desperate you are. Whispering dirty things into your ears, leaving marks on your neck and collarbone, and just… feeling you, that’s important to him.

But there’s no point in denying that he doesn’t appreciate doggy. He loves you ass.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very. Humorous. He’d tease you, kind of make a joke of you being cock dumb and stuff. Sometimes, he jokingly bites you, leaves a random mark on your stomach, and tickles you with his scruff, just to lighten up the mood. He is serious enough but not too serious during the moment.

Though when you two were separated for a certain period of time, there’s no time for him to be goofy. He’d be desperate for the first round, all serious and want to be physically and emotionally reunited, and in sync with you. After the first round, he’ll crack some jokes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Manscaping may not be the most prioritized thing for Poe at the moment, but he tries to take care of it for you. He won’t be clean shaven though, that’s just too time consuming to maintain it and he likes some hair down there, especially when your nose nuzzles into it during a blowjob.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Being intimate and romantic is owned and copyrighted by Poe Dameron. He’d kiss you, worship you, praise you, touch every inch of your skin and try to convey all the emotions he has for you through sex. Physical proximity is a must for Poe. So he would be just talking, dirtily obviously, and touching and kissing you. Constantly. Only during sex, you two can forget about the galaxy and he wants to show that he’s 100% focused on you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he’s away on a mission, yes. He jerks off. He may find some pornographic materials to help him or try to think of you. When you two are physically together? Hello mutual masturbation, Poe called and wants to book you for the weekend.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As mentioned in E = Experience, he’s experienced. But he actually is not-too-crazily-kinky-but-experienced, so he may not whip out a handmade sex machine on you but he’s done the basics and some advanced shit.

He definitely has praise kink. This boy is a cocky hoe. He loves getting compliments and being reminded that he’s good to you. But let’s flip the table. He loves to praise the hell out of you, tell you how well you’re taking him and stuff. He just wants to be a good boi for ya.

Dry humping and rubbing too. He just likes to make sure that you know that he’s horny and how hard he is. For him, it’s not teasing, it’s a way of showing how needy he is but to you, it feels unfair. You want him inside you but you can’t deny the appeal of them.

He’s a verse, leaning more towards top but please, top him. He wants you to take control too. Loves it when you ride him and control his orgasm, telling him that he needs to be a good boy to get his reward and he’ll do his best to please you.

Once the war is over and your friends start to get married and have kids, he’d have a full-blown breeding kink. Creampie all the way. Would he get a plug? Yes. Would you slightly judge him for it? Yes. Would you still love him? Fuck yes. Would Poe use it on you? ABSOLUTELY.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Ooh. He loves thrills, adrenaline rushes and taking risks. So. In his X-Wing, the Falcon, a semi-secluded storage room, an empty room, anywhere that he gets to say “Be quiet baby, someone’s gonna see you getting fucked hard, you wouldn’t want that, do ya?” but really wants you to scream and let the whole base know that he’s fucking you that good, would be his favorite places.

But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t appreciate loving you in your, his or you two’s quarters. It’s almost like a sanctuary to him, to forget about the world and the burdens you two carry for a moment and indulge in each other. But you two may be too loud, your neighbors might hate y’all and bang on the wall. Is that really private? Not sure. Does Poe care? He pretends to but actually he doesn’t. It just shows how good he is at making you feel good.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Not to be too cheesy and stuff, but anything you do. You flashed a smile at him when you saw him at the cantina? He wants to drag you into an empty room and rail you. You working hard and being serious? He wants to help you relax by eating you out.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that accompanies excessive pain. Spanking may be okay but leaving you a scar, drawing some blood or straight up punching you, he can’t. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Won’t complain when you’re offering, in fact he loves it when you go down on him. When you seem to enjoy stuffing your mouth with his dick, he’s ready to cum hard. BUT. Poe is a pleaser. He loves to see his partner going crazy with his tongue and mouth, so he’d like to stay between your thighs forever. If you don’t feel like receiving his enthusiastic oral, he’d be terrified that he’s done something wrong but once you explain that you’re just not up for it for whatever reasons, he’ll respect you and your body but will miss drinking you up.

Ride his face. Sit on his face. He’d hold onto your thighs and will lap whatever you give him till you beg him to stop. He might cum if you stay on his face long enough.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and sensual is his thing. Busy schedule is a prerequisite of being a pilot. So he may have to be quick but will make it heartfelt and sexy for you too.

But when you two have some time to indulge, HE WOULD GO SO DAMN SLOW YOU WILL BE BEGGING FOR A RELEASE. He likes to take time to show you how much he appreciates and cares about you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Look outside. There’s a war going on. Quickies are a part of your sex life. Neither of you mind them but Poe would say “Maker, I wish I could just be in bed with you, fucking you till morning right now.” that kind of stuff. He just wants to be with you. But hey, whenever he hoisted you up against the wall or a door, he seems to be living the moment.

Post-war quickies are rare but Poe loves the thrill and adrenaline of them, he’d definitely squeeze a quick fuck before you or him go into a meeting or mission.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

YES, HE LIVES FOR TAKING RISKS. I’ve been saying and I hate redundancy. Anyways, he wouldn’t hesitate trying something out that he heard or read about. When you bring up something you’d like to try, he’d be VERY pleased and eager to test it out immediately.

Please refer to L = Location as for risky locations that Poe is into.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Two rounds in a row, with a break, he can go a couple more. He can last long enough to make you cum with his dick.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He had a couple in the past but when he joined the Resistance, he gave up on them. Now he’s with you, when he goes on a mission and sees some toys being sold, he’d definitely grab one or two. Obviously to use them on you but he wouldn’t mind you using them on him either!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Does he love to tease? Does he love to be unfair? A simple “yes” to those questions would be the biggest understatement of the year. Edging, teasing you, playfully denying orgasms, making you cum on his mouth for so many times yet refuses to fuck you with his dick, he’s creative with coming up with ways to tease you. When you’re whiny and begging, he goes crazy. He loves to see you being vocal and honest.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Vocal af. Grunting and moaning A LOT. Once he learns that you like it when he talks dirty, he will not SHUT THE FUCK UP. He’d definitely get turned on by how loud he is and how you’re enjoying it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Before you two became a thing, he accidentally saw your underwear because your pants hung too low and he jerked off to the image MULTIPLE TIMES. Also he loves to see you wearing his clothes. Remember that tunic thingy he only wore once in TFA? Borrow it. He’d snuggle into you and won’t leave your side. The shirt he rocked in TROS? Wear it. He’d tell you how hard he is and show you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Above average but not too crazy. Thicker than the average for sure. It’s a pretty cock and he knows it. Also his balls are big. Not pendulous, but big and fit in your hands nicely.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not as high as his younger self, but still high. Also he values sex not just as physical but also emotional and psychological act, so his desire to have you is pretty high. He wants to feel your pulses, body moving, breathing on his body and the warmth. He craves that. He wants a physical reminder that you’re with him, alive and well.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After making sure that you’re cleaned up and nice and cozy, you two would cuddle and he’d doze off fairly quickly. He wants to stay awake and see you fall asleep, but he’s tired. Let that boy sleep. He won’t fall asleep without you in his arms though. Or check Sleep with Poe Dameron Headcanons to read more about Poe sleeping with you. Shameless self-plug is my middle name.

[neonponders]

I FINALLY uploaded again to my first Harringrove fic ever, so here’s an easy way to read ch. 1 since a lot of people here don’t know me from Dracula Has a Mullet haha

Read on ao3 here ~

💋 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋

The discovery that Billy Hargrove is a vampire came at a weird time in a weird way. It’s just not everyday that you walk in on someone fingering Alexandra O’Neil with their teeth—fangs—in her tit.

There were stranger things in Hawkins, unfortunately. Unfortunately? How fortunate is a vampire?

“For fuck’s sake. Really?”

Billy has the grace to extract his freaking teeth with a semblance of being surprised. “I didn’t know you had that kind of mouth, Harrington.”

Steve waves a scolding finger at him with all the gusto of a drunk, and he has the solo cup to justify it. “Put those away! She was homecoming queen last year. Jesus, have some class.”

“You serious?”

Steve downed the last of his beer and Jäger with a grimace, his voice going raspy. “Look, I’m not one to judge a lady’s standards, but really, Alex…Alex?”

The lady in question was so blissed out she looked like one of those unnaturally stupid women in every Dracula movie. Billy actually moved aside as Steve pulled her away from the wall—away from Billy—to try and talk to her. Righting her dress with quick yanks, he covered her gorgeous, if small, breasts and gave her a shake. “Alex! Hey!”

He could hear—could feel it, more like—Billy moving behind him in the dark room. Steve had come up here hoping to claim the guest room before someone used it to hookup from the party downstairs. It wouldn’t be the first time he woke up from a mid-party nap to someone being blown, but sometimes it’s the price one pays for free liquor and an ounce of decent sleep.

“What’s wrong with her standards? Huh, King Steve?”

The voice is right behind him, so close that the damn vampire has to rear backwards when Steve whirls around. “What kind of vamp name is Billy? Wait, that’s short for something—”

“If you call me by anything else, I’ll hang you from the ceiling by your teeth.”

“You’re not charming like vampires,” Steve practically complained. “Gotta work on that. Everyone gossips here. Folks will know you’re toothy like…” He fumbled a clumsy but sharp snap of his fingers.

Billy made a derisive sound before his voice crooned, “Seems like I’m flying just fine under the vampire radar, then.”

He was heaving Alex back up from where she had slumped against the dresser when Steve released her. Steve raked a hand through his hair, thinking. It was a slog through the alcohol, but he surmised that he could not take her away from this guy. Case being: Steve was far too drunk to logically drive, and to where? It was her house.

“You. You gotta go.”

Billy huffed one of his low, mirthless laughs. Instead of setting Alex nicely on the bed, he just kind of dumped her there. She let out a sort of dumb-giddy moan as she face planted a pillow and he faced Steve. “Excuse me?”

“You’re, like, biting people at a party!” Steve realized somewhere between his tone and his slight—or perhaps exaggerated, it was hard to tell at this point—sway, that Billy was far more sober than he felt.

Not the time to play hero but whatever.

Billy slowly stepped toward him. “There’s plenty worse at this shit house than me, Harrington. Worst weed I’ve ever had. And that shit whiskey’s been so watered down, it’s nothing but wheat water.”

“Hey!” Steve was poking two fingers at him before he meant to. “They just renovated the place and I got well paid for the tiling and paint!”

“So you’re the reason everyone’s been tripping over the same spot in the kitchen?” Billy huffed.

“And the whiskey’s not so bad if you chase it with grape juice. It’s like toast and jam water. Whatever, no one’s here for your holier-than-thou, California bullshit!”

Billy was caught by surprise that time. His whole expression lifted, brows and eyes widening as he repeated, “Holier. Than. Thou. That’s the kind of shit you pick up from books. I didn’t know the king could read.”

“Fuck off,” Steve grimaced, really just wanting to get Alex tucked into bed and maybe join her. “You’ve been riding me ever since you got here.”

“I definitely have not been doing that,” Billy retorted and then smiled. “What, you offering?”

“Was she?” Steve cornered, drawing himself up to his full height. Admittedly, not much taller than Billy, but small victories lead to great heights or something.

Billy wiped his mouth and Steve’s eyes plummeted to those lips. “Yeah, she was. She pulled me upstairs, or is that so hard to believe, blue balls?”

“It kind of is, yeah,” Steve said with his hands on his hips. “Alex has asthma. Like, inhaler tucked in her bra at prom in case the slow dance was too much. She’d never get with a chain smoker like you.”

“She would if her high school sweetheart cheated on her with the first college bitch he found.” One of Billy’s eyebrows perked up with his shrug. “I’m a favorite for ladies looking for a rebound.”

Steve grimaced. “Derek cheated? How do you know that?”

“That’s between her and me,” Billy said, stepping forward again. “But I hear you’ve been due for a rebound for a while, Harrington.”

He didn’t want to talk about Nancy. It wasn’t even Nancy, really, but he didn’t want to talk about anything regarding his sex life or lack thereof. Steve diverted, “I want you to leave. Go find someone else to—whatever the hell this is.”

“Well. You’re right here.”

“Not me, dumbass. I told you to leave the house.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Billy smiled. “What? You’ll let me beat the shit out of you again? We had an audience last time too.”

“I wouldn’t be too cocky about last time,” Steve groaned, beginning to take a step back. “The way I hear it, Jonathan had to mop you off the floor after—”

Billy wasn’t listening. His eyes were on Steve’s neck and the only gut wrenching, instinctive thought Steve had was weapon. It came in the form of a glass lamp, which he wrenched out of the wall to break over Billy’s head.

The hard thud of thick glass hitting before the shatter and glass raining over the floor had Steve gaping at him. Billy stood very still. Way too still. Steve wondered if he had knocked him out, but his legs hadn’t unbuckled yet.

Then Billy lifted dark eyes beneath his mess of a fringe, pupils blown wide. Steve continued to stare at him with the mechanical parts of the lamp still in his hand. “Holy shit, you didn’t even flinch! You’re supposed to dodge when furniture’s coming at you—”

Billy gripped the wrist holding the parts and wrenched him so far that Steve couldn’t react to Billy’s other hand on his pants. Heaving him up by his belt, he slammed Steve onto the table from which the lamp had originated. Music thrummed around them, the very beams in the walls vibrating. Steve defied the laws of his denim pants by folding his leg against his side to kick Billy in the gut. Ragged sounds from both of them went unheard by the party below. Steve slid like a heavy tablecloth to the floor with Billy likewise winded and crouched in front of him.

“Why…” Steve tried, rubbing his chest and hoping his talking lasted long enough for him to decide whether running or trying to pin Billy down was the best decision. “…can’t you just…not do this? Whatever alpha bullshit game you think life is.”

“Some of us don’t want to go through life with your dashing prince crap,” Billy spat.

“You think I’m dashing? I couldn’t tell, I passed out the last time you punched me in the face.”

Billy laughed. “Yeah. You’re just as soft as I remember.”

He was moving again and Steve felt a wild, foolish—downright stupid—thrill to try something else. “You need to leave, man. Really. I know a party of blackout graduates might seem like easy pickings, but Hawkins is different.”

“You don’t know shit about different,” Billy growled. “You’ve never seen grass outside this bum fuck of a town.”

“I’ve been to Disney World. And New York City. There’s gotta be some hospital nurse you can swoon into letting you raid their blood bank?”

He couldn’t tell if Billy was getting angrier or not. The man was always angry, seemed like. “I’m not drinking from a freezer. Now shut the hell up. You’ll enjoy this like your homecoming queen.”

A last ditch effort, diving in the direction of the door, but it wasn’t the first time Billy had been on top of him with murder in his eyes. Steve’s hands fumbled at Billy’s face, but then his wrists were pinned above his head and a panicked whine escaped as Billy’s hot, humid breath found him.

Steve went slack. They always do. Billy had figured out that something in his teeth or saliva sedated those he bit, and more. A whole lot more. It made a good flirt into a hell of a time. Alexandra of the Hawkins Homecoming Court had already come on his finger when Steve, of all people, waltzed right in.

It made hunting annoying. It made hunting fun. He had to be picky; didn’t want anyone he couldn’t look at for longer than three minutes moaning all over him while he tried to feed. His looks did most of the work. The right dash of charm here, a nice compliment there, and then his fangs did the rest.

Steve was hard under him. Billy felt the distinct push of his jeans against his own ass while he slid his fingers under Steve’s nape. Lifting his neck, he made sure the moron’s windpipe stayed open, as well as lifted his meal closer to his mouth—

A strange sound came from Steve. Billy’s eyes flicked to his face, but when that labored breathing sound happened again, he sat up and stared. Steve was crying.

This had never happened before. Those doe eyes that all the girls had ranted about when he first drove into Hawkins were red and squinted as moisture slid over his temples. Billy even checked to make sure he wasn’t sitting too heavily on his dick or something, but the gears of his brain slid into place.

Steve usually wore sunglasses at parties. Billy couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “Are you a drunk crier, Harrington? Hey, I’m talking to you.”

He gripped Steve’s jaw, but his whole head lolled, those eyes barely finding him through the daze. “I just wanna sleep,” he said quietly. Fresh tears raced into his hair as he passed out.