#then stay the fuck away from dogs and cats

[dykekarkat]

HI um. can i ask about your httyd aftg au?

omg yes ofc!!! this is one of my fave aus rn i love httyd so much :) here's the first post i made about this au for reference i have maybe two chaps written but i want to get solidly into it before i post anything on ao3 cause im planning for this to be a longer fic!!

just some basics before i get into it neil = hiccup, andrew = astrid, kevin = toothless, nathan = stoic (i love stoic and i do believe he loves hiccup and is trying his best however im having a lot of fun making nathan the evil chief/father)

OKAYYYY this au is actually so fun to write for i love dragons and i love being able to fuck around with the traditional aftg character dynamics :) the fic largely follows httyd 1's plot not aftg's. the most fun to write so far has been neil and kevin's dynamic. ive decided the dragons use dragonese here and neil is fluent in it like hiccup from the books. neil's fluency comes from mary pre-death (wink) and pure spite for his father. while nathan has whipped berk into a dragon killing frenzy and never ending war, neil is going behind his back (at major risk to himself) to try and foil his plans.

neil does still hit kevin and injure his tail but it's a lesser of two evils situation, where lola was aiming at the same time and she would've for sure killed kevin. neil immediately is running off to try and find the night fury and get it the fuck outta berk before his father can kill it. this leads to kevin and neil are fighting like cats and dogs in the beginning but there's this consistent underlayer of "why havent you killed me yet??". kevin is also frantic to get back to the Nest and due to the fact they can communicate they end up making a deal where neil will try and make a mechanism for kevin to fly again and kevin will give him info on dragons. the first time they fly together its like Oh. I Get It Now. Besties for Life.

while this is happening dragon training is basically a punishment for neil Not a privilege. all of the teens/young adults are forced into dragon training so that they'll continue popping out soldiers for war with a few exceptions (aaron training to be a healer, neil originally training to be a blacksmith but is forced into it). for the longest time neil forcibly distanced himself from his peers (the foxes) because he was terrified of nathan using them against him or hurting them because he made friends. the fact he's nathan's son is also offputting to a lot of ppl (its not quite as us vs them as the upperclassmen and the monsters but its similar). so we're emphasizing the neil weird loner who seems desperate for connection but every time ur nice to him he flat out runs away dynamic.

neil does his best to stay under the radar during the training sessions which eventually fails miserably (not spoiling this part bcus its one of the first scenes i thought of. its good tho prommy). andrew is basically quietly obsessing over him and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on with him. he sees himself in neil but he also doesn't understand Why. neil of course is fully oblivious to this, until uh oh. neil's pet kevin has been found out. cue andreil truth games :)

anyway this got long and idk if i even said anything of importance or coherence but its one of my fave aus just because its really fun <3

[jacqcrisis]

Found out there's a subreddit dedicated to v3gan pets. And I don't mean rabbits or iguanas. Nor dogs or cats with severe allergies who need an alternative diet just to stay alive. But honest to God, by choice, no medical issues in sight, feeding your carnivorous cat and halfway carnivorous/omnivorous dog a fully plant-based diet because it's 'the most ethical way to have pets'.

They site studies that have been noted for selection bias, tiny sample sizes, and literally just being polling data on owner's perception of their pets health which doesn't tell you fucking anything about what kind of damage making a carnivore digest plant matter every day of its life can do to its organs. There was even a post where someone asked why they didn't get an actual herbivore as a pet instead of forcing an unnatural diet on an animal that CANT SYNTHESIZE THE REQUIRED PROTEINS TO LIVE ERGO WHY IT EATS MEAT to live on a v3gan diet and some motherfucker said 'weh, I think rabbits need more space than a dog or a cat.'

A rabbit? A domesticated bunny? A domesticated bunny that weighs six pounds and was bred to be an indoor pet after centuries of being domesticated orignally to be food for monks during Lent THAT RABBIT NEEDS MORE SPACE THAN YOUR FUCKING 70LB HUNTING DOG YOU REFUSE TO FEED PROPERLY???

Not only do these people not know how studies work or how animal digestion works, they also just don't understand animals at all. Do no harm unto animals unless it hurts my feelings that can't accept animals eat other animals naturally and often cruelly then I will wreck havoc on this cats organs for its whole artificially shortened life to make myself feel morally superior.

Fuck entirely off and leave your animals in the hands of someone who will actually care about them instead of trying to have an animal abuse pissing contest with other v3gans.

[meowsogynist]

Whoever said sisters forgive and forget have not met my sister

[apollo-zero-one]

Listening to stories of people who survived situations like being trapped in collapsed buildings and it kinda sounds like the human response to being trapped in a bad situation is to just keep going back to sleep until death comes. Thinking about depressive avoidant sleeping. Brain doesn't know you aren't trapped under rubble it can't see out of his bone prison brain just knows everything is bad and everything hurts and we can't handle this stress we need to divert all power to life support, night night.

[imnotokaywiththerunning]

Happy first day of dove season! 🙃 Be safe out there! The average hunter would rather shoot you in cold blood than admit they don’t know what a dove looks like 🙃

[zamalie]

theres a small subset of cat people who act like dogs themselves are genuinely like some kind of priveleged group they can punch up on

[thegnomelord]

just read about demon hunter reader and demon ghost cuddling, and the first thing i thought was how ghost would react if, one of these times, reader ends up having a wet dream and dry humping his ass 😋

about time that our demon thinks of getting laid, he's disgusted and turned on at the same time

Sorry this took a while lads :Dd, I'm getting back into writing after all that shit with my school but I got a summer job as an assistant medical worker with 12h shifts every other day so It might take a bit for me to write stuff.

Hush, Hunter

CW:NSFW, MDNI, demon Simon Ghost Riley x male hunter reader, grinding, wet dreams, handjob, blowjob, size difference (demon ghost is like 11 feet tall.)

Your ‘husband’ is strange, even by demon standards.

He grumbles about the inconvenience brought on by your mortal failings and fragility, growling whenever you have to stop at a gas station to buy food or at some dingy motel to sleep. He grumbles even more about being confined in the stolen human skin suit he's forced to wear to blend in.

You can ignore the stranger with the stolen face and hellfire eyes throwing dark glares at you for the most part, except for when the demon decides to make the binding ring around your finger heat up when you spend too long talking to the pretty cashier. And it only takes a few more seconds of not paying heed to the incessant burn before Ghost Simon looms behind you, glaring at the flustered cashier like she’s a fey trying to trick you into the Fey Lord’s court.

And the big bastard never gives you any explanation on why he’s acting like that, just drags you back to your car, slamming the doors closed with enough strength to shake the entire vehicle. He’s like a cat honestly; hisses at you, but doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or claws.

But when your nightmares get so bad your only chance of sleeping is on the floor, well hidden behind the bed with your back flush with the dingy motel wall, Ghost surprises you by laying down with you. Sure he grumbles about the demeaning position - laying like some mongrel dog - but he still does it.

Ghost is on his side, his broad muscular back to you, rough inky scales swallowing all the moonlight that filters through the blinds and turning him into a pitch black wall of muscle. He’s so still you might even think he’s sleeping – you know he’s not; demons aren’t tied to mortal laws, nor are they subject to time’s iron grip, that’s what makes hunting demons so dangerous. The only indication you have that he’s awake is the occasional twitch of his tail and the slight shuffle of his wings when you accidentally get closer to him in your attempt to get a comfortable position.

You flinch when his one wing spreads out and back, but the blanket of black and blood dyed feathers soon eases the tension in your body. Probably too quickly, definitely too quickly, but Ghost doesn’t draw attention to it and neither do you and the night is cold and he is blissfully warm and he stays stock still when you shuffle a bit closer. You're glad he pays no attention to you when you get comfortable against him, barely an inch of space between you two.

His feathers tickle your face, they’re softer than you’d expect a wrath demon to have, fluffy like the down of chicks. His scent invades your nose, rough leather and steel oil and something distinctly demonic you can’t name. . . but it’s strangely comforting.

Laying only an inch or two away from a demon goes against everything you’ve ever been taught. Your nerves should be on a razor’s edge, but instead you’re calm. You don’t know why your fucked up mind finds comfort in the fact a possible threat would need to go through half a ton of murderous wrath demon to get to you. And you don’t want to think about it either, you’ve had far too many sleepless nights for your brain to care how you manage to sleep so long as you do. And the moment you close your eyes, you’re out like a light.

Ghost has gotten used to your nightmares.

Just like his father’s absent love, your nightmares are consistent. He’s almost impressed how such a frail thing like you could hunt the likes of hydras and Hell Dukes when you barely sleep a wink most nights. The longest you’ve gone is a couple of hours of restful sleep before you woke up trying to claw your eyes out. You never talk about it, nor does he, Ghost may be a demon but he knows far too well how the mind can haunt someone.

And Ghost has gotten good at telling apart the individual nightmares by how you squirm in your sleep.

It takes a little longer for the nightmare to start than usual, but he knows you’re neck deep in it when you heart starts it’s frantic drumming in your chest. He ruffles his feathers as your hands grip his sides, your breath fanning over his skin. He thinks it might be the basilisk haunting you this time by the way you press yourself flush with his back, burying your face into the space between his shoulder blades until your nose is flush with his spine, back hunching to further shield your eyes.

Ghost doesn’t, nor will he ever, mention the low happy rumble that escapes him when you snuggle up to him. His feathers fluff up, the scratchy hair of his tail flattening down - about as silk soft as he can make them. It’s little better than throwing pearls before swine, you won’t remember any of this after all, but doing this strangely doesn’t feel as much of a burden as it should.

Usually the low deep purring growling will chase away your nightmares and lull you into a dreamless sleep for a little while, but not this time. You squirm against his back like an eel, muscles tensing to grip his sides until dregs of pain dance along his spine. Your breath fans across his scales, your heart pounding in his ears like that of a rabbit’s caught in a snare. He’s just about ready to turn around and wake you before he feels it—

Your arousal pokes his back, hard like iron.

Only now does he pick up the slight sweetness of arousal in your adrenaline rich scent. “Hm- fuck.” You mumble as you roll your hips to grind your cock against him. “Slow- fuck fuck- slow down.” You breathe out, and Ghost swears this must be another part of his father’s eternal punishment. The sudden thought that your dream is of a sexual nature smites him with all the intensity of his father’s rage.

Who do you think you are, taking his little mercies for granted? Who do you think you are, grinding against him like some mongrel mutt? Who do you think you are holding him as if you are more than the eventual reward for the maggots fervent prayers? Who do you think you are—

“Ghost- Simon. . .” His name, his original name, leaves your lips; it’s the softest he’s ever heard you speak.

“Human.” He seethes and rolls around, pushing the warm feeling –warm like a campfire compared to the blistering pits down below that usually dwell in his chest– out of his mind. “Disgusting.” You’re so small compared to him, your head could easily fit in his rough hand, a momentary lapse in the binding’s protection all that it would take for his flesh rending claws to cleave through your skull. He’s thought about it often, of the look in your eyes as your life fades, of how good your blood would taste, of how nice your shoulder would look with his teeth marks on it. . .

His hand is gentle as he reaches to brush your cheek, like he’s handling glass, rumbling when you lean into the touch. “Wretched thing.” He growls, hand sliding from your cheek to your back and pulling you close. He feels you nuzzle into his wide chest, carefully bullying his thigh between yours, steel hard muscle tensing to give you a good surface to grind on. “Nothing more but a mongrel waste of flesh.” He doesn’t notice how quickly his voice has lost heat, barely above a murmur as he listens to your breathless gasp and watches your back arch.

For someone usually so guarded, you are painfully naked in flesh and soul, responding so wantonly to his touches; from low moans to soft little murmurs of ‘Simon’ and ‘more’ that has him mindlessly rubbing his thigh against your crotch in hopes of getting more of those so painfully human sounds. You moan and nuzzle into his chest, your body like soft clay in his hands now that you’re no longer shackled by the chains of pride and prejudice that your mind conjures around him

You’re like a strange bug to him; a part of him wants to pin you down, to tear you apart with vicious claws and see if there’s anything different in the way your heart beats, in the way your lungs move, in the way you exist — something substantial to show why holding you in his arms doesn’t feel as degrading as it should.

He wonders, briefly, if this is what God saw that made him love Adam so much. Why God did not have the heart to kill Adam for his disobedience.

Greed moves his hands like they’re puppets on strings, flesh rending claws carefully tracing the bumps of old and fresh scars that dot your abdomen — perhaps you aren’t so pathetic, it takes strength to survive this long. Your skin prickles from his touch, your breath fanning over the rough belly scales protecting his front as his hand slowly moves down. He hooks a claw under the band of your underwear and pulls down until your cock springs out right into Ghost’s hand.

Ghost hasn’t seen many cocks before, why would he?, but a low sound comes from his chest at how neatly your cock fits in his hand, how neatly all of you fit against him. And only now does it dawn on him that he doesn’t know how to do this— he’s a wrath demon for fuck’s sake, he understands war and bloodshed like it’s the back of his hand, but this? This is new territory.

Well, he’s never been one to back down when he’s gotten this far.

His hand slowly closes into a fist, just a little loose around you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t be anything but gentle in the way he strokes you. Your hips move on their own, gentle little rocks to fuck your cock into his fist and he follows along with the motion. It’s a little rough at first, he feels how the dry slide of his hand makes you shiver, but he soon finds a nice pace as your precum eases the glide of flesh on flesh.

He wants to see your face when you moan, but he can’t bring himself to pull you away from his chest when you cling to him so sweetly, your lips mindlessly ghosting over his scales. So he contends himself with coiling his tail around your leg, draping a wing over you so there’s a barrier between you and the rest of the world, so no creature from heaven high or deep below may entertain the thought of taking what’s his.

No good thing lasts for long.

He feels you wake like the first thaw in spring, slow and gradual, eyes fluttering open, mind still clouded with pleasure to really understand the position you’re in. He takes advantage of that, gripping your hip to keep you close, swirling his tumb in the precum beading at your head and squeezing his hand just right to coerce a breathless moan from your chest.

Then your eyes snap open, realisation hitting you with the same intensity as the punch you throw at his skull. But the ‘marriage’ turns that show of force into a gentle caress of the skull cheek of his ‘face’. “Ghost what the fuck are you-” You begin, cut off as another clench of his hand has you gripping his forearm and biting your lip to silence yourself. 

“Oh hush hunter.” Ghost rumbles low in his throat, his wing tensing behind your back to bring you in closer, soft blood dyed feathers encasing you in a cocoon of warmth against his cool belly scales. “No need to wake the other worms.” Disdain and mockery drip from his voice like molasses, yet strangely it doesn’t feel aimed at you. . . it must just be the pleasure making you believe that.

“You- bastard!” You snarl, trying to summon the hunter savagery that had been meticulously beaten into you, but it slumbers like a fat cat. “Fuck off- get away from me.” You aim to slam your fist against his scaled abdomen, just a little lower and to the side where the floating ribs should be, but all you manage is a slow caress of his side and back up his chest where you can feel his eternal soul burning beneath the flesh.

He laughs and slides his hand down, rolling your balls in his wide hand and squeezing just enough to be at the edge of pain– shit, that should not feel so good. You hiss and throw your head back despite the inherent danger of exposing your throat. He tilts his head down, ghostly breath washing over your ear, “We both know if you wanted this to stop you would have done so.” Oh, now you can just feel the mockery in his voice, sweet like honey that it is.

Some petulant part of you thinks of arguing, anything to retain what remains of your damn pride, but then he slides his hand back up, pressing your cock against your stomach and grinding the palm of his hand against your shaft and all the thoughts of arguing are pushed to the side by the tide of pleasure. Fuck, it’s been far too long since you ‘took care’ of things, it’s not like you have much time to wank off, let alone with Ghost hanging over your shoulder like some grim reaper. And hell, if any other hunter heard you let a damn demon jack you off, yours would be the next head put on the stake but. . . but Ghost is surprisingly gentle with you, not a single hint of pain coming from his touches, not even from his claws gently running down your side.

“Fine-” You suck in a sharp breath, head fixed to stare directly at his chest. “Make it quick.”

You feel him smirk against your ear, “As you wish, hunter.” He laughs lowly, like you’re nothing but a cute puppy chewing on his shoelaces, “Though, you should thank me for debasing myself like this.” He growls, and with a sharp move of his wing he rolls you on your back. 

You gasp as your back hits the sleeping mat, and before you can even struggle Ghost looms over you, a wall of muscle and dark scaled flesh. “Fuck no.” You growl, some scraps of pride still clinging to your mind, though even those are threatened when his broad hand returns to stroking your cock, faster this time, the drag of his palm making pleasure sizzle up your spine. Your head rolls back to rest on the mat and you don’t even notice when you close your eyes. You’re not sure how Ghost is so good at this, something sharp like jealousy curling in your stomach at the thought of him doing this to someone else. But it’s hard to think when you can feel and hear him purring, his claws gently tracing your stomach and leaving lingering heat everywhere they touch.

You jump as something slick brushes over your balls, “Look, good hunter.” He growls and you listen without thought, eyes wide when you see his tongue— it extends from the darkness of his head just beneath the rotten upper teeth of his skull, long, black, thick strings of oil coloured spit dripping off his tongue. “That’s better,” He purrs; you’re not sure how he can talk, and you’re unable to ask because he leans in closer until your cock rests against his skull, his hellfire eyes burning in the darkness and giving just enough light for you to see his long black tongue curl around your base like a snake. 

Shit– he wants to kill you.

“Holy fuck Ghost-” You breathe out, lungs burning before you remember how to breathe. His tongue moves, squeezing your base and sliding lower to lap at your balls. You’re forced to bite your finger to stop the painfully pathetic sound burning on your tongue.

He stops moving and you’re thankful he doesn’t mention the whine that slips past your lips. “Simon.” He demands, oily spit clinging to your skin and making it tingle with heat.

“Simon.” You nod along dumbly, “Fuck- Simon.”

“Good.” You imagine he’s smiling when he says that, his hand returning to stroke your cock in reward. “Call me that again.” He says, a purr rumbling in his chest and you can’t help but moan at how the vibrations travel through his tongue, making it act like a vibrating toy.

Your hands fly to grip his horns, the pleasure making you throw your head back yet you try to keep your eyes on him, hiccuping his name between harsh breaths. He doesn’t mind the touch on his horns, leaning into the touch before flicking his tongue at your taint. He rewards you for each time you say his old name, tongue and hand working in tandem to slowly and steadily march you towards release. 

You try to tug on his horns to warn him, or maybe to pull him away, but he pays no heed; he doubles his efforts, wetly slurping at your balls and base while his hand toys with your crown, his free hand holding your hips down so all you can do is weather the pleasure until you’re finally pulled under the waves. “Simon-” You gasp, cum spurting all over his hand and your stomach. 

You watch through lidded eyes as he retracts his hand, keeping his gaze on you as he lazily licks up your cum from his hand. “Better than I expected.” He rumbles, more to himself than you, leaning up to drag his long slimy tongue across your stomach to gather up all your cum.

 Shit, that sight got you hard again before you could even soften.

You’re not sure if the greed you see spark in his eyes makes you scared or even harder, but you’re not left any room to think further about it before his tongue wraps around your cock again.

Unfortunately for you, demons have no concept of time as mortals know it, so his ‘quick’ ends up being the entire rest of the night. At one point you get to the point you’re sure Ghost is trying to kill you with all the pleasure, spit polishing your cock until he’s satisfied and by that point the sun is rising and your voice is hoarse.

You can’t meet the gaze of the motel receptionist in the morning, but Ghost Simon, looks smug like the cat who ate the canary.

[robertsfloyd]

PLS PLS PLS part 2 for puppies...where lando can't just stop fucking her.. and they have to lock him up in chastity but it's already too late since lando has filled her with his puppies and she's like pregnant or something like that?!!!

okay i went along those lines, but chastity became crate

part one

cw: light smut, pregnancy

the crate was comfortable. soft pillows and blankets that smelled like you surrounded him when he laid down.

but he didn't want to lay down. he wanted to be on top of you, inside of you, rutting against you until you were filled with him.

"horny fucking mutt," carlos muttered as he locked the door to the crate, leaving lando on his own in the kitchen. it wasn't fair that the scent of you surrounded him and he couldn't get to you.

it wasn't fucking fair.

you laid with your head in carlos's lap as he pet your hair, scratched at the base of your ears. your body was so damn sore from the way lando had been manhandling you, but you were loving every moment of it.

you knew he didn't mean to be so harsh with you. but the thought of pups in the moment was exciting. would they have your ears or his? would they have your pointed ones with his curls? how about the tail?

no matter what, your pups would be cute.

but, now that it was over with, now you had a minute alone to think, you shook away the thoughts of pups. you weren't ready for that, especially not when oscar was due back from australia any day now. home from australia to take lando away from you.

you whined at the thought.

"oh, my girl," carlos cooed as his thumb stroked over your cheek. "i'll keep him in there until oscar comes to get him, if you want me to."

you sat up suddenly, shook your head rapidly. that was the last thing you wanted, for lando to be kept away from you. even when him trying to be inside of you 24/7 became too much, it was still nice to lay with him in your bed, to sit together while carlos was out and keep each other company. it was nice to talk to someone else who understood the intricacies of being a hybrid, the struggles that came with it.

"i like him," you mumbled to your owner. "he's..." but you couldn't begin to describe what you felt around lando. you liked it when he kissed you, liked it when he trapped you beneath him at night. liked it when he growled at other dog hybrids that got too close. liked it when you sat at the window, watching birds and that one cat that always escaped from the netting covering up their balcony.

standing from the sofa, you walked into the kitchen. your tail started wagging the moment you saw him. he held you blanket against his nose as he rutted pathetically into his hand.

you dropped to your knees in front of him. his eye opened as he whimpered at you, his grip on his hand tightening. he just wanted it to be you. he just wanted to be inside of you.

you stayed sitting in front of him, reaching through the bars of the crate. the lock was taunting you, daring you to try and open it. but you didn't know the code.

he came in his hand with a cry and wiped it on your blanket. you didn't mind; it was an old one kept in the crate. he reached towards you, played with your fingers as he stared at you.

eventually, carlos freed lando from the crate. he was on you immediately, kissing all over your face as your tail wagged. your tail was moving just as fast as his, and the two of you looked like you were going to take flight.

the moment he started humping you, your legs locked around his middle, carlos's slipper met the top of his head. "oye," he said with disapproval in his voice. "keep doing that and you're going back in the crate."

lando stilled, but you kept your legs locked around him, unwilling to let you go.

the threat of being torn away from you kept lando behaving for the next few days. he was attached to you in a way he wasn't before the crate, growing every time carlos came near.

something was going on with him, making his instincts go haywire.

but then oscar came to pick him up.

he whined as he gripped you tight, refusing to let you go. when oscar approached, when he tried to attach a load of the d ring of his collar, lando snapped.

he snapped his jaws at oscar, nearly biting into his fingers.

you were whining just as pathetically as he was. no, he couldn't go. he couldn’t leave you!

you didn't know how they got you separated. but you cried at the door through the night.

until you got sick. throwing up in the morning, hiding in your bed for the rest of the night. you blanket still smelled faintly of him, and that was enough to bring you comfort.

it was carlos's idea for you to take a pregnancy test. and then another. and then another.

he damn near lost his mind when they came back positive.

he was going to kill that mutt.

[yrlocalwerewolf]

caitlyn kiramman x reader hc's ! ✩ (MEN DNI.)

this girl so always organized, always striving for perfection. no matter what it is. her work, her clothes, house, even you. fixing your necklace or brushing that piece of hair out of your face.

she doesn't take hot showers anymore after what happened with Jinx because she's scared of someone appearing out of the steam again. but if you insist on taking a hot shower with her maybe she'll consider it.

caitlyn loves cuddling with you. especially after her shift as an enforcer, when she's all tired.

this woman hardly drinks, but she always keeps her mother's favorite champagne in her pantry (even if she doesn't particularly like it).

if she does get drunk, it's almost always off wine. she gets really affectionate, clinging to you and slurring drunkingly about how much she loves you and leaving marks all over your face and neck with her lipstick.

after she lost her eye, she couldn't sharpshoot for a while after. due to her depth perception getting messed up. she also struggled to track moving objects and judge distances properly. so before she fully adjusted to the lack of vision and the after effects she was grabbing things that were actually farther away then she thought. you teased her about it, and even if she rolled her eye with a huff she found it endearing.

jealous, possessive, fucking everything. even if she even sees someone looking at you the wrong way, or dare flirt with you, she's sure to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you away.

she's always touching you in public. holding your hand or arm, a hand on your knee under the dining table. you're her girl, and nobody can take that was from her.

whenever she leaves hickeys on you, caitlyn always admires them. if you want to hide them, of course she'll let you, but she'd rather you show them off.

she calls you hers. not in a 'this is my property' way, but 'we're meant to be together' way.

always spoiling you. you mentioned a book you wanted? it'll be here in a week. new movie or a concert you want to see? she just got you front row tickets. she loves hearing about your hobbies and will always get you stuff relating to them.

black cat energy, but she owns two dobermans that she used to go hunting with, but usually just takes them on walks and hangs out with them now .

early bird. she sleeps late due to cases she has, but you'll never catch her not getting up at six am sharp to get ready for the day. but if you beg her to stay for a bit longer and it's cold... well, everyone comes a little late to work once in a while, right?

total sap. always going on dates with you or giving you silly pickup lines and flirting with you.

a/n : i don't have any good fic ideas man ,,,,,, send requests please !!!! also the dog thing is canon :)

[wonderjanga]

You Feed Me Now For Some Reason?

This is inspired by @the-autistic-spider’s repost on this post.

Billy was having a good day. It was sunny out in Fawcett and just the right amount warm. He was relaxing, laid out on a bench in a park. His eyes were closed and he simply basked in the sun like a cat. Then all of a sudden the sun was blocked out by something.

Black Adam: *looking absolutely horrified* “Aman?”

Billy: *opens his eyes to look up, look up at him, and honest to the Gods his soul almost leaves his body as he sees Adam standing over him*

Both of them looked equally horrified to see each other.

Black Adam: “Ah…” *rubs his eyes before looking back at him* “No. You’re not him.”

Billy: “Not who?”

Black Adam: “No one that concerns you.” *clears throat* “Child, where is the Champion?”

Billy: “You mean Captain Marvel? He’s uh… not here right now.”

Black Adam: “I thought the bumbling fool was always around.”

Billy: “Bumbling- he’s not a bumbling fool!” *offended* “And he’s not always around because he kinda has a life to live, you know?”

Black Adam: “He has a life outside of being the Champion?” *does a little short evil laugh* “Like that’ll last long.”

After that, Adam flew away, leaving Billy to stare him like he was a fucking idiot because, well, he was acting like one. At least in Billy’s opinion anyways. Fast forward a week or two and Billy is leaving the Whiz building. He gets maybe about a street away before Adam suddenly lands in front of him.

Black Adam: “You.”

Billy: “Me?”

Black Adam: “Where is the Champion?”

Billy: “I dunno sir.” *shrugs*

Black Adam: “But you should know. You are the Whiz Kid, yes? You spread news about his accomplishments and battles and such.”

Billy: “Yeah? That doesn’t mean I know where he is though.” *is mentally pointing an laughing*

Black Adam: “I see.” *narrows eyes and looks Billy up and down* “You’re… skinny. Your parents need to feed you more.”

Billy: “Uhm… I don’t have parents Mr. Black Adam Sir.”

Black Adam: “I see.” *stares for a solid minute*

Billy: *stares back*

Black Adam: *picks Billy up and flies to look for a food vendor*

Billy: *screams and flails*

After they found a vendor…

Black Adam: *puts Billy down*

Billy: *tries to run*

Black Adam: *grabs the back of his sweater to make sure he stays there* “Give us your finest…” *looks to what the vendor is even selling* “Hot dogs.”

Billy: *still trying to run but this is his favorite sweater and he doesn’t want to ditch it so he’s just stuck trying to pull away from a man with the strength of Amon*

When Adam got the hotdogs he sat down at a bench and lifted Billy to sit on the bench too and eat. Now see, Billy wasn’t about to get rid of a perfectly good hotdog, no siree. So, he scooched all the way to the edge of the bench and the two ate in silence. After that awkwardness, Adam straight up left.

Now, you’d think this would be a one time thing right? Nah. Adam ends up dragging Billy to food places so frequently the boy gets used to it. They still sit in that silence but Billy’s gotten used to that and just tries to focus on the food. As for how they’re getting all this food? Adam just intimidates anyone who even thinks to deny the pair a taco or hotdog.

[lovverletters]

👉👈 yandere serial killer...??? Maybe?? Like just this big scary dude with a mask and a big fuck all weapon like a butcher's knife or something and hes so big and scary but he sees his darling as he's just head over heels in love and obssessed and stalks them and makes sure they are safe.

Maybe leaves gifts as a way to try and court his darling even (trial and error style)

So like he leaves maybe a dead animal like a fucking cat cause he's this kinda survival guy and he's trying to provide food but darling is freaked out, so he tries again with something else maybe bones. Doesn't work. Tries to figure out what they like and tries again with their favorite flower or something.

Like he's out of touch with society cause again big serial killer who likely lives out in the woods, kills people who get to close to his home etc so he's really trying to win over his darling who lives closer to the town/city or something.

Just.... I just love big scary man who is so scary and mean but is ONLY nice and soft to his darling and tries to be so gentle, especially if his darling is much smaller than him.

No pressure if you dont wanna do this! Just!!! Giving out some ideas!

♡♡♡

♡Bunny

Yandere! Serial Killer

A/N : thank you for requesting! I changed a few things if you don't mind💖 this is like an intro for him? I'll write more if people like this dude

T/W : Obsessive behaviour, murder, mentions of dead animal.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"─yet another body has been discovered near a park at Heartfelt Avenue this morning. The police were alerted to the scene after a man who was walking his dog stumbled upon the deceased body covered with deep cuts that were shaped into a heart. This marks the twelfth victim of the serial killer, 'Lovelorn' that has left communities in fear──"

The news forecaster were cutted off as [Name] switch the television off. Their stomach churned with uneasiness at the reports of the new killing. With the serial killer still on the loose, god knows who'll be next?

It could be them.

It's a terrifying thought but a probable possibility. All of the bodies were found near their place of living, meaning that the killer is not far from their area. Moving away is not a choice for them, they could barely make enough money to stay afloat.

[Name] will have to put up with the murderous maniac's antics until they were caught and placed behind bars.

"Shit── I forgot I have to cover for Stacey today!" They cursed out, hurriedly changing into their horrendous work uniform.

Working a late shift at a cafe wasn't exactly their choice. [Name] usually worked the day shift── stressful but far better than being all alone at night when there's a lunatic who's going around stabbing people. Their coworker Stacey had an emergency today and had practically begged [Name] to cover for her shift as no one would take up on it.

[Name] don't blame them, no one in their right mind would voluntarily throw themselves in a situation where they would ended up in a news headline.

However, adulting is hard and it drains your sanity slowly and [Name] already lost theirs a long time ago. Plus, they really need more money otherwise they'll have to live off cup noodles.

What ever could go wrong? The killer had just slain a person today, they couldn't possibly attempt to do it again could they?

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Everything went wrong.

It had been mind numbingly boring shift, the cafe were deserted at night with only a few people coming in and getting out as soon as they got their drinks.

[Name] were tempted to just sleep through their shift in the break room. Their boss won't care──probably.

"Can't something interesting happens right now? I'm bored out of my mind──" On cue, the lights suddenly begun flickering before shutting off.

Fuck. They're not bored anymore.

[Name] jolted in their place when the main door slammed to a close and their heart stopping momentarily as they saw a figure running towards the backdoor entrance.

They raced towards the exit──there's no way they're going to investigate it! They value their life more than this store they worked at──and try to pry the door open but discovered to their horror that it has been jammed!

Before they could attempt to break the glass door with a steel chair, they heard a noise from their former place behind the counter. [Name] eyes widened in fear at the sight of the figure they'd seen running earlier.

The man was muscular and had a red horned mask on, in his hand was a large butcher knife that serial killers loves wielding. Had their life not being in danger, [Name] would've laughed at how cliché this situation they're in.

"H─hey buddy, that's a nice looking knife you got there" [Name] says as they held onto the steel chair tighter, ready to wield it as a weapon if needed to.

The killer only stalked further in silence, ignoring [Name]'s remarks. He only stopped once they reached a good distance from each other and [Name] were confused, is he fucking with them?

Their confusion only furthers when the killer drops a fucking dead rabbit in front of them. Horrified beyond belief, [Name] looked at the horned masked man who stared at them as if he's waiting for a praise.

"Wh──wha..?" They could only croaked out timidly.

"It's for you" The killer spoke in his deep voice, elaborating no further.

Their eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he dropped a human heart next to the dead rabbit. [Name] felt their knees weakened as they fell on the ground, disturbed at the sight before them.

Mustering whatever courage they have left within them, they asked the killer that's towering over them.

"Wha──what are these f──for?" Stumbling over their words from how terrified they were.

The killer, holding a flower in his hand──they looked freshly cut from the stem──lowered to their level of ground and spoke in his gravely voice that's strangely laced with a certain gentleness and love.

"M' courting you cause' I love you"

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[bulletfragment]

Random facts about columbine (Repost)

* If Eric could change one thing about himself it would be his weight

* When Dylan was a sophomore, he volunteered at a day care. sue remembers him helping little kids line up neatly to take their turns on the swing

* Eric and Dylan's manager had a six year old daughter who was often there while they worked. She loved them and their manager said they treated her very well.

* When one of eric's neighbours lost her puppy, he looked for it and brought it back to her

* Eric would help his mom garden

* Eric and Dylan went to two rammstein concerts together. they were on december 8th, 1997 and may

* 1st, 1998. KMFDM opened for the first one.

* Dylan used the the Breman Bold font for his wrath shirt.
We're unsure what Eric used but it could potentially be
Massacre.
Dylan picked out his cat, rocky, from a litter of kittens when he was in 3rd grade

* Dylan's favorite baseball player was Roger Clemens

* At blackjack, Eric made $7.65 an hour and Dylan made $6.50 an hour

* Eric had $113 in his wallet at the time of his death

* For his english class, Eric chose these three books to read and write an essay about. Return from the stars was his favorite one.

* According to a Jennifer Harmon, a girl in Eric and Dylan's creative writing class, Dylan would pass out chips ahoy cookies during this class as an attempt to make friends. she said they were "the chewy kind with big chocolate chunks." During the basement tapes, Dylan pumped a shotgun and pointed it at Eric, who was filming, making him scream "jesus christ, put the fucking safety on!"

* During the massacre, Eric and Dylan had match strikers taped to their forearms so they could easily light their bombs. they are visible in this photo from the evidence exhibit. you can also see the tape on Dylan's wrist in the suicide photo.

* Eric and Dylan had other nicknames besides Reb and Vodka. Eric's were indigo, reverend, and war. Dylan's were green and death.
After they committed suicide, Eric had 18 9mm bullets and 14 shotguns shells left. Dylan had 3 9mm bullets and 14 shotgun shells left.

* On March 14, 1998, Dylan got a ticket for failing to stop at a red light. He had to go to court for it on april 29. he wrote, "red light court. dam ni**az better not take me license.

* Two months before columbine, Eric's dog was seriously ill. Dylan picked up Eric's shift at blackjack so he could stay home and be with his dog. Sue felt sad for Eric and told Dylan she was proud of him for being such a good friend.

* After the massacre, Kevin harris told friends he blamed himself because he went away to college and wasn't around to help his brother cope with whatever problems he was having.

* The morning after the massacre, Wayne Harris phoned the family dentist. Eric had an appointment on june 30th and he needed to cancel it.

* Eric was not Dylan's first choice for NBK. He originally wanted to do it by himself, with a girl, or with (presumably) Zack Heckler.

* Devon Adams said Sue wore Dylan's jeans after his death. The only person on their shitlists who got shot was

* Austin Eubanks. Austin was friends with Corey Depooter. He died in 2019 due to an opioid addiction.

* When Eric lived in Michigan, his dad was a scout leader and helped coach sports teams. he played basketball in their driveway with Eric and Kevin. His mom helped his 5th grade class make special shirts for halloween. Both his parents always attended the parent-teacher conferences

* A few weeks before the massacre, Dylan was banned from using the school computers because he called a librarian a bitch after she asked him to pay for printing over 10 pages. When told he was banned, he just said,
"well, you know, it doesn't matter. it doesn't matter."

* Dylan was friends with Rachel Scott's prom date, Nick Baumgart, between 3-5th and 7-8th grade (Eric was also friends with him 7-8th). In the basement tapes, Eric said he laughed too much and "those two girls sitting next to you probably want you to shut the fuck up too".

* Eric, Dylan, and Zach Heckler also targeted Nick's house during a Rebel Mission on February 7, 1997. Eric described what they did to his house and their reasoning for targeting him in his writings.

* Brandi Tinklenburg, the girl in the Eric In Columbine video, would study in the library every tuesday morning during her lunch hour. The only reason she wasn't there the day of the massacre was because she went to the tanning salon instead.

* The only reason cameras were installed in columbine's cafeteria was to catch students who left trash on the tables.

* Dylan's locker number was 837 and his combo was

* 19-37-9. And Eric's locker number was 624 and his combo was 16-48-30.

* V

* • Eric wrote "anniversary card" in his school planner under april 17, 1998 to remind himself to get his parents a card for their 28th wedding anniversary. When police arrived at Eric's house after the massacre and tried to go in his room, Kathy Harris tried to stop them. she said, "i don't want you to go in there." The officers persisted and she complied.

* Dylan's body was released to Horan & Mccontay funeral home. services were on april 24th, 1999 at 1:30pm.

8-10 people attended.

* Eric's body was released to aspen funeral home. No services were provided. It is unknown if the harris family had a private funeral for Eric or not.

* Eric got surgery to correct his pectus excavatum on December 16th 1993 at Fitzsimons Army Medical Centre in Aurora, co. He wrote, "when i got back from the hospital, i couldn't do anything that involved using my chest muscles. that meant i barely could even laugh."

* Dylan was going to major in computer science at the university of Arizona. Eric was almost positive he didn't want to go to a 4 year college, but he told a friend he might go to a 2 year college and "major in computer graphics or something."

* Eric knew he was rejected by the marines. Nate Dykeman said, "Dylan and I were the first ones Eric told about the rejection. He asked me, 'where do I go from there?' he saw it as a last option."

* Dylan's SAT score was 1210. He got 560 on the verbal part and 650 on the math part, putting him in the 75th percentile.

* During the massacre, eric or dylan (probably dylan) was heard saying, "today is the day the world comes to an end, today is the day we die," in the cafeteria. Eric and Dylan both dated the same girl, Sasha Jacobs.

* She went on 1-2 dates with Dylan and stopped because there was "something strange" about him. Then she went on 16-20 dates with Eric over a period of four months before also breaking up with him. After she broke up with him, Eric wrote in Chad Laughlin's yearbook about her. She also started to receive threats in her email which she suspected were from Eric.

* Eric's favorite magazines were Guns and Ammo, Penthouse, and Time.

* Dylan was born at the lutheran medical center in wheat ridge, co.

* Wayne Harris believed Brooks Brown was out to get Eric and that he was a "manipulative con artist." He wrote

"Eric is not at fault," him and Kathy felt victimized too, and they didn't want to be accused "everytime something supposedly happens."

* Eric scored a 46 on the marine recruitment asval test, which is an average score.

* Starting when he was 8 months old and until he was about 1 and a half years old, Eric went to the doctor at least 11 times due to a congenital leg problem. It wasn't elaborated on in his medical records, but his walk appears to have been bow-legged.

* Wilder Wien by RAMMSTEIN played in the original hitmen for hire during the scenes where Eric and Dylan were walking in their trench coats, but jeffco silenced the music (presumably) because of copyright.

* Mike Vendegnia (the guy in the white shirt in the Eric in columbine video) was friends with Corey Depooter.
Mike described Corey as "very bright and easy to get along with."

* Dylan tore off the bmw emblems on the front and back of his car. Zack Rissmiller said he did this, and after the massacre, police found the emblems in his glovebox. • A witness in the cafeteria heard Eric or Dylan yell

"check the window" and "one's coming in" as they were trying to detonate the bombs. They were likely anticipating that cops would enter the school at any second and were as shocked as everyone else was that they weren't coming.

* Eric's phone number was 303-762-1212.

* Dylan's phone number was 303-972-1131.

* Valeen Schnurr was holding hands with Lauren

* Townsend as she passed away.

* Dylan paid between $200 and $300 for his sunglasses.

* During the shooting, librarian Peggy Dodd told Brian Anderson, "i have to get out of here, they hate me, they're going to kill me." a few weeks before the massacre, Dylan called her a bitch when she asked him to pay for using the printer.

* Dylan told a classmate that the reason he wore a soviet pin on his boot was "just to get a reaction out of people.

* When Eric applied to tortilla wraps, he listed his english teacher, Mr. Webb, and Sue Klebold as references.

* One christmas, Sue fretted because Dylan wanted a collectible baseball card that cost as much as she had planned to spend on all his gifts. She worried about only having one gift under the tree. but that's what Dylan wanted, and that's all he got.

* Some of Dylan's favourite foods were scrambled egg, pizza, beef stew, lasagna, pumpkin pie spice cake and Dr Pepper as his favourite drink.

* Before Austin Eubanks left the library, he checked Corey Depooter for a pulse and detected no signs of life. Eric and Dylan threw a total of 31 bombs inside the library, but only 5 of them actually exploded.

* Neither Eric or Dylan wanted to have kids. Eric said, "i don't think i would want to bring a child into this world." Dylan said, "i'm never having kids. kids just mess up your life."

* A total of 76 bombs were found inside and outside columbine high school. Only 30 of those bombs actually exploded.

[0mg-bird]

Bombshell of the BAU

Early season Spencer Reid x Fem! Agent! Reader

Summary: New to the team, the others can’t help but be drawn to you…well, not in the way Spencer Reid is.

Warnings: heavy flirting, 18+ content, smut, fem receiving oral sex, teasing, mentions of guns.

Part two is on my page but link doesn’t work to get to it

The only reason why the BAU works so well at their job is because of the simple fact that not one member is alike. Their differences are advantages, all different mindsets that help work cases.

Spencer knows that his team isn’t alike…

But no one is quite like you.

He’s no stranger to strong woman agents, he seen that spark in Elle, in JJ, he’s come to see it in Emily, but here you were with more than a spark. You had a flame, compared to the other women.

Crushes are so high school, so he’s not going to label this fascination as that. Maybe he was slowly losing his mind? He knew it would happen eventually, but he hadn’t expected his decay to be at the perfectly manicured hands of a new agent that transferred from another branch of the bureau.

Hotch told his agents not to ask too many questions because you weren’t supposed to disclose too much information about where exactly you came from. In that, he set you up for allegations.

Morgan was the most creative, he came to a conclusion that you came straight from the White House, that you were a right hand man for the secret service and were in Witsec for awhile because of it. Emily made a joke that maybe you were a Russian spy and he took it literally, vowed to never fully trust you.

That was before he officially met you.

One bat of your eyelashes and a cunning smile tossed his way, he practically laid down and rolled over like a dog.

The team had similar reactions, and that’s because you were so enticing, so genuine, so easy to jive with. And you did your job well, really well.

You looked good doing it too.

That’s a thought Spencer kept to himself. To him, you had everyone reminding you of that fact, so why should he be one more person?

Really, you scared him, so he thought that if he just kept his distance, you wouldn’t eat him alive.

He might enjoy that, though.

While he was busy creating a bubble of friendly distance, you were busy placing yourself inside said bubble.

Now, Morgan was fun. He matched your flirtatious energy, he always had a come back because he was just that kind of guy. Nights out at bars with the team, he was fun to dance with, he was easy to be so fluid with because he knew this whole attitude of yours didn’t mean anything.

Derek Morgan was great.

But Spencer Reid? In your eyes, he was perfect.

You can’t necessarily put your finger on it, maybe it was just everything he put off. He was dorky and sweet and funny, he was a bashful kind of handsome. The best part of him being gorgeous was the fact he didn’t have a clue. All these guys have egos that ruin it, but not your Reid. No, he just spews facts like he’s a fucking search engine and it could practically be used as foreplay.

Maybe it’s a flaw, because he looks at you with those brown eyes and it’s like your hard attitude crumbles. Call it some corruption kink, but the way he quickly looks away when you catch him looking, or how he gains a stutter and goes red when you give him your attention, it makes you want to paint a permanent smile on your face.

No, it’s not a kink, you don’t want to ruin him. You want him to stay this perfect. You’d never do anything he wasn’t okay with, if he told you that your flirting made him uncomfortable, you’d probably stop speaking entirely.

Your whole persona would be compromised if anyone knew of this submission.

And the great thing about this whole situation was that Spencer wouldn’t say one single word you didn’t like. Mostly because he didn’t say many words you wanted him to say, but after a few months of this cat and mouse game, he’s getting better at it.

You selfishly think it’s all because you’re skillfully crafting him, making improvements to his perfectness.

Spencer sits down at his desk with his coffee mug, and waits.

You always arrive eleven minutes after the last team member does, which usually is Morgan, who thought he’d forever hold the title of fashionably late. Spencer doesn’t even have to watch the door, he knows the signs when you’ve entered the bullpen.

Heads turn, murmurs follow. He can hear the click of whatever form of heels you have on, and when you enter his atmosphere, his senses are filled with you. The perfume you wear is expensive and distinctive.

Yves Saint Laurent, he’s come to know.

“Good morning, handsome.”

Ah, there you are.

He looks over at you with a smile, watching as you set your purse and go bag down and then come to lean against his desk. He hands you your mug of coffee he took the liberty of making, and you gasp in delight.

“You’re too good to me, Spencey.” You declare, making him scrunch his nose at the silly nickname you insist on using.

You take a drink, then set it back down. He looks at the print of your lipstick on the mug, then down at your heels. His eyes gracefully float up your legs, taking note of your smooth stockings that disappear under your appropriate skirt length, then up to your blouse and shoulder holster where your gun resides. Finally, he meets your face, enticing eyes, thick lashes, a gleam in your smile.

“I like when you wear blue.” You playfully hum, brushing your hand over his shoulder, feeling the material of his shirt.

His heart beats wonky.

He’s come to learn that you have this OCD tic of sorts, it’s a habit he’s noticed. You make sure that things are prim and proper. You’re the first to fix Emily’s hair, you clean up the edges of JJ’s lipgloss if it gets messy. You sweep dust or lint off the back of Morgan’s shirts and you have to fight the urge to fix Hotch’s cufflinks because he hates being prodded at. You might come off as vain, the way you check your appearance when others don’t, but in all actuality, it’s just to soothe nerves.

Reid’s guess is you had a mother who was adamant about things being proper.

Whatever it may be, he can tell it irritates you when you can’t control the urge. It’s a bad thing to have when you look at crime scenes every day and can’t clean things up or make things perfect.

It has to be stressful, and that’s why it does not bother him when you poke and prod and adjust him. You adjust his glasses, then ask him if his contacts got messed up again. You place his hair perfectly, in a way that always makes him look the best, then nudge your finger under his chin and decide your work is done.

Often times he goes into a spiral, wondering why him. You have all these guys who’d become fools for you, why must he? He always comes to the same conclusion. You aren’t forcing him to do anything, but it’s your fault. You give him the attention he can’t admit he’s craved, you have a big heart that you don’t like others to see right away, you have a beautiful mind that others don’t appreciate. They see a pretty face and a great body and fail to appreciate your knowledge, and Spencer thinks that’s a shame.

It’s your fault that you’re this great and he could probably just lay down and let you walk right over him.

He’s dealing with these confusing feelings while you go and have every man in the bullpen wrapped around your finger. Everyone knows the rule, bureau members aren’t supposed to have romantic relations with each other, but he’s constantly trying to find loopholes like he has the guts to confess to you.

He can’t do that, so he settles for being the subject to your witty remarks.

In the round table room, JJ briefs the team on the reason why they are heading to L.A.

You sit with your legs crossed, scanning the case file. The Unsub was particularly brutal, they alway are, but the murder of three teenagers? And one that’s still missing?

It’s brutal.

It makes you rethink your choice wording when you go to claim the jet ride as such.

You sit at the window section , across from Spencer, leaning onto the table where he plays cards by himself. Propped up by your elbows, you lazily watch him as your source of entertainment.

He knows you’re staring.

Of course he does, he could be in a room full of people and find your gaze in a single second. Though he plays it cool, he has a sort of twitch about him. Often times he feels as if he’s being dissected under your careful eye, not saying you do it on purpose, but it’s how he imagines prey feels when it’s being stalked.

No, that’s too harsh of a comparison.

You’re not looking to maim, you’re just…memorizing his outline.

A perfectly normal thing to do with colleagues.

He flicks his eyes up from the cards in hand, catching you.

“Can I help you with something?” He asks, brows lifted but without amusement.

You smirk. “You could help me with a lot of things, baby.”

Logically, his mind tells him that you’re just being your teasing self, playing the Morgan and Garcia game.

Emotionally? He’s internally groaning at how much he likes you saying those things.

That pout on your lips doesn’t help, his mind is filled with visions of touching you softly.

“I’m bored, Reid.” You practically whine.

He simply deals you cards without another word.

There was often duos in the team. Morgan and Garcia, Hotch and Rossi, Prentiss and JJ.

And you and Reid.

It was satisfying in that way, knowing you weren’t an outsider to the team anymore because you had your lover boy, your crime fighting partner. And in that, Spencer and you had a dynamic that sometimes didn’t need many words.

You waist time playing go fish and other childish things, then when the boredom strikes again, you throw the cards down and huff.

“What now?”

Angel. Is what he wants to add to the end of that question.

“You’re doing a pretty bad job at entertaining me.” You declare, tracing shapes onto the table top with your nail.

“Didn’t realize that was in my job description now.” He laughs, which makes you grin.

Because when Spencer’s happy, you’re elated. Odd, how it works that way.

“Should’ve read the fine print, stud.” You banter, squinting your eyes before smirking and pulling a piece of gum out from your purse.

You offer some to the man who’s trying not to focus on the way you chew slowly. Truly, he isn’t bored, how could he be bored when he has the view of you in front of him.

Fluffing your hand through the roots of your hair, he starts speaking off facts like he normally does when he finds a connection.

“Did you know that the topic of oral fixation is a popular discussion point in the psychology community? There has never been a percentage done of how many adults have an oral fixation, but it’s not something that you normally come by. Actually, it starts as a child, during the months when your mouth is your stimulant. It’s how you get nutrients, it’s your first tool, so if you’re not given that stimulation you need, the somewhat teething behavior lingers in your adult years.” He explains dutifully like you asked about it, and normally he wouldn’t get this far in a one sided discussion because someone would always stop him.

Not you, you love when he “talks dirty” to you, as you call it.

Chewing your gum, you hum, slipping your finger over the surface of the table and onto his hand, continuing to draw you invisible shapes.

“So you don’t want a stick of gum?” You ask, though he doesn’t answer, just continues to go the long way around a point he’s trying to make.

“Usually it’s more serious, but it often can appear in moments of boredom or nervousness. You chew gum when there’s nothing else to do because it’s an action that makes you focus on something. You have a fresh manicure, but you usually toy with your fingers in your mouth when you do paper work, you suck on pen caps because it’s comforting. That shows that during your infant months, you probably weren’t given the proper care, a formula baby who probably was weaned off pacifiers too early-”

He’s borderline insulting your mother right now but that ‘matter of fact’ crease between his brows is so cute, he talks with his hands often, so you opt to follow his free hand with your eyes.

You sigh contently, not feeling immense boredom any longer.

“Spence, if you wanted to tell me you often look at my mouth, you could’ve just said it.” You say with a joking behavior, making the team mates that were paying attention to the two of you, laugh.

Spencer blushes, immediately fumbling his words, claiming that’s not what he meant at all.

~~

There’s an assurance that you have to have an ugly personality just because you’re pretty gorgeous.

But Spencer wants to declare it’s wrong. You’re insanely kind to every kid you talk to on the case, you listen and reassure them of their safety, that you were here to help stop the one who was doing this.

At the end of the long, hot, day, you sit in the passenger seat of the SUV as Spencer drives to the hotel. Everyone could take a deep breath now that the missing girl was found safe and the UnSub is now in custody.

“That last girl we talked to had a crush on you.” You say to him with a pouted lip of cuteness. “I miss being fourteen and being in love with guys who are too old for me.”

Spencer looks over at you, relaxed against the seat with the first couple buttons of your blouse undone, and he chuckles.

“I don’t really feel comfortable knowing I only attract minors.” He says, looking back to the road so he doesn’t crash from staring at your side profile for too long.

“Oh come on, you don’t just attract teenagers.” You scoff, reaching over and squeezing his bicep.

Goosebumps cover his skin.

He shoots you a look as if to say ‘I don’t believe you’, and you shoot him one that says ‘we’ve been over this’. You have had this conversation about him being a total catch before, of course, but you’re happy to do it again.

“You’re very smart, baby, but you’re so so ignorant sometimes. It’s like you’re blind to women looking at you with desire.” You state, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you push your legs further open in a more relaxed position.

“No, I think you just think everyone looks and everyone with desire because it’s a look you’re used to.” He speaks, focusing on your stockings for a moment.

Usually you have to keep your suggestive comments to a minimum because others are around, but now it’s just the two of you. You could say whatever you wanted.

“Someone besides me needs to let you know that you can easily make a woman hot, I think that’s what is going to ease you.”

He almost swerves the car off the road at the way your words register in his mind.

“You get… flustered?” He questions meekly, testing the waters that are getting impossibly deep.

“Of course I do, are you kidding?” You laugh, staring at nothing but him. “You show up looking so good all the time, saying all this smart stuff, always proving how good you are to me. It makes me have to remind myself that HR would have my ass if I proved you have a swooning effect on me.”

His heart beats in his ears, his nose pink.

He wades deeper into the inappropriate water.

“HR, huh? Sounds like that’s some serious violations you think about.”

It’s not supposed to be that dirty, but to you? It sets you over the moon.

“Oh trust me, handsome, the things I think about probably shouldn’t leave my mind, even if I want them to.”

There.

That was a real statement, not just a joke. Right?

It’s finally registering in his mind. Before, he played it all of as you just being funny, that you flirt with everyone because it’s like your form of communication and you’re friendly, that you say these things without meaning and his feelings are one sided. You choose words carefully and it’s not so scary or real to him.

But you just flipped the script.

‘Even if I want them to.’ You had said.

Over and over, your voice echoes in his head. He sits on the hotel room bed and it consumes him.

It’s dark outside, he should be in bed. He’s showered, he’s dressed and ready for sleep and it doesn’t come.

He has to ask, he has to hear you debunk his assumptions that you meant more than you did.

To hell with what the clock says, he swiftly leaves his room, trailing down the second story balcony, past room doors. The air is cool against his skin as he remembers your room number. All the team’s rooms were scattered and he’d hate to come knocking on Morgan’s room instead.

With adrenaline, he knocks on your door and waits, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. He’s brave, that’s what he tells himself. He could leave, feeling totally embarrassed and pathetic but what’s new?

You open the door and the air leaves his lungs.

Clearly, you were in the middle of unwinding.

And undressing.

Lingerie hidden under the robe you hold closed, you look up at Spencer with concern at his frantic face.

“Spence, everything alright?” That silky voice asks with care and concern.

He can’t.

He can’t do it anymore.

“What did you mean, before?”

“What?” You ponder, a breeze catching you, making you pull the robe closer.

“You said that your thoughts shouldn’t leave your mind, even if you want them too. Is that you just toying with me? The lines are getting a little blurred now.” He doesn’t hear the way he sounds, so desperate.

But you do, and it makes your heart ache. You look into his needy brown eyes and know he’s finally doing something about this sexual tension you know he’s been dealing with, that both of you have been dealing with.

Without a word, you let the robe fall open, exposing a vast more amount of skin Spencer hasn’t seen from you before.

“There’s never been lines to blur, Spencer, it’s just been me and you.” You say softly.

His mouth goes dry and he can’t speak. You watch his eyes drift down your lace covered chest, down your stomach and over your panties, all the way to the second gun you always carry, strapped to your thigh, just above the lace top of your nylon thigh high.

He could drop to his knees for you, hold the backs of your soft thighs and press his head to your stomach, declaring he’ll be whatever you want him to be.

“I don’t…I…” He stammers, looking deep into your honest eyes.

“This isn’t a ploy.” You state.

You can see the moment he decides he wants to risk it all. With a large step forward, his cradling your jaw between his large hands and brushing his lips to yours. Welcoming it with a satisfied sigh, you walk him back into the room. He manages to slam the door shut, pulling back hesitantly as you drop the robe.

“This means you like me, right?” He clarifies. “I’m just…making sure.”

You bite your lower lip to suppress a laugh. “Yeah, Spence, this means I like you. I’ve always liked you.”

“Good.” He breathes, bringing you closer once more.

All those times you wondered, you know now that Spencer is so deep with his actions, even if he is uncertain. He’s gentle, but you grip his sweatshirt in your hands and deepen the kiss, showing that you’re sure about this. The moment your tongue slips between his lips, he’s lost all calm.

This can’t be happening, but it is and his heart is pounding.

Stumbling towards your bed, you blindly feel for the edge of the mattress so you can sit. He looks down at you, face red and sweat pants growing a little tight suddenly.

“We don’t have to do anything.” You say so kindly, smiling to ease him.

“I want…no, I want this.” He says. “I’ve wanted this for so long, please.”

You shift your thighs together.

“You don’t have to beg, I’ll let you.” You promise.

A little awkward, he nods, sitting beside you. His finger tips glide down your thigh, unstrapping the holster and walking it to the table.

“We should probably get rid of the firearm before anything bad happens.” He laughs, making you chuckle.

Pushing yourself further up the bed, you motion him to follow. The thing you’re learning with Spencer is if you give him an inch, he’ll take a mile and you love it. He’s kissing you with more hunger now, running his hand down to one of your stockings before slowly pulling it down your leg.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

You nod with a smile. “You don’t have to ask before touching me, I want you to.”

It’s better than Christmas day.

He leans back as he pulls the nylon off your left leg, then turns and does the other, leaving a small kiss to your knee in the process.

It’s slow, the way he lays between your legs, how you make out sensually, how you’re running your hands through his hair and the noise he makes when you let his hands wander.

He wants to be able to memorize you, every curve and shape that you are.

He wants to burry his head between your thighs and you might just let him.

“Baby, wait.” You tell him as he takes his glasses off and sets them on the nightstand. “It’s a lot, you really don’t need to.” You say.

“I want to.” He says as he sucks at your neck.

“Have you ever done it before?” You question, knowing it’s not necessarily something for beginners.

“I’ve read a lot of things.” He tells you genuinely.

He researched oral sex.

You gasp lightly. “Do you know how hot that is?”

He grins bashfully.

You don’t have high hopes, but if he wants something, how can you tell him no? So you coach him at first, thinking you’ll be of help.

Your words die quickly as his tongue is on you.

Spencer Reid, your nerdy coworker, your sweet, awkward boy, is eating you out better than anyone ever has. He does it like he’s been doing it for years, like he knows your body. He is liked a starved man.

Chest arched off the bed, your head falls back, hand in his hair, holding him there as you shudder and curse out.

“Fuck, Spence, oh fuck.” You sob out, struggling to not close your thighs around his head.

He’s having the time of his life.

All of those times he’s imagined it, it’s way better, you sound so much better, taste so good.

It hasn’t even been that long and you’re shaking, hips thrusting up against his face. You gaze down at him, how he flicks his eyes up at you, how he smiles.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum, oh shit.” You whine out, trying to hold onto reality while the burn in your stomach gets hotter.

Toes curling, you can’t control the moans coming from your throat. It makes a delightful sound mixed with your heavy breathing, Spencer wants to hear it for the rest of his life.

It’s safe to say this is his new favorite thing to do in the entire world.

As you mentally float into outer space, your heavy limbs drop and for a moment you’re convinced you’ve left your body. It takes a good solid minute for you to come back and remember how to breathe properly.

A sharp whimper leaves you from the sheer sensitivity you have, that’s when you have to pull Spencer away before he pushes you through a second orgasm that would have had you blacking out.

He looks so appealing, hair tousled, lips wet from your slick, and he gives you a drunk and goofy grin, all you can think is ‘I’m going to eat him.’

“C-come here.” You say with a hoarse voice, pulling him up to you.

You taste yourself on his tongue, kissing him with gratitude and affection.

“Was that okay?” He questions, wiping the remaining mess off his face.

“Okay?” You question. “That was amazing, Spence, like really amazing.”

Rubbing his cheek, you go to let your hand travel down his chest and torso.

“Do you want me to make you feel good too?”

He looks away for a moment, awkwardly chuckling before looking back to you.

“I, um, no. I already…I’m good.”

It takes a second for you to put together what he’s trying to say, but when you do, your eyes widen.

“You’re the perfect man.” You claim.

He likes that thought. After getting cleaned up and lying with you, he likes the idea that to you, he’s more than enough.

He has something now that’s just his. You both agree that the team won’t need to know about this dynamic you share, it’s a secret he likes knowing he has.

His fingers trail up and down your arm as you relax into his chest.

“Were you a spy before you came to the BAU?” He asks into the quietness.

You can’t help but chuckle. “I was an intelligence agent, working in hand with members of the CIA, representing my branch of the bureau.” You explain so casually.

Spencer nods. “…So, a spy?”

Kissing his jaw, you nod. “Yeah, handsome, whatever you say.”

[lewisvinga]

favorite girls | alex albon x fem! reader x lily muni he!

summary; after y/n says a special fact about her relationship with alex and lily, everyone seems to misinterpret it as her getting in between their relationship. luckily, her boyfriend, girlfriend, and their grid friends are always there to defend her.

fc; emilia mernes

warnings; slut shaming, cursing

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

note; requested ! i love me some alex n lily

masterlist !

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and others!

alex_albon: my favorite girls. both of them, always and forever. ( p.s. lily and i made the FIRST move before she realized we loved her after manyyyyy hints and tries )

tagged; yourusername, lilymhe

lilymhe: y/n is such a pretty angel then you added a pic of me in pjs and w my dino

alex_albon: ‘that’s my y/n dino i can’t leave her🥺🥺’

yourusername: AWE LILSSSS

lilymhe:we gave her so many hints and it wasn’t until we kissed her that she finally realized 🕊️🕊️

alex_albon: she’s so stupidly cute 😞😞

yourusername: to be fair, lily is just super affectionate and alex is flirty without trying , how was i supposed to know🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

landonorris: when drunk alex and lily kept ranting to me about how much they love you while you were right next to me???

yourusername: i too was tipsy , norris !

yourusername: love u both sm💖💖 my fave ppl in the whole wide world 🥹🫶

alex_albon: love you both so much too❤️

lilymhe: AWEE I LOVE YOUU BOTH🥹

username: now i see why y/n said lily is like a puppy

username: #y/ndefenderuntildeath liked by alex_albon & lilymhe!

username: they’re so goals

username: the way they both pulled a bad bitch like y/n really had y’all questioning if they made the first move or not 😭

username: y/n honestly has looked happier ever since dating them! and even her aesthetic has been sm more colorful!

username: my parents 😖

landonorris: love u guys n all but u guys are gross

yourusername: aweee landooo ( ignoring the last part )

alex_albon: he’s just jealous i have 2 pretty gfs and he has none!

landonorris: LEAVE ME ALONE

username: lily and y/n give me a gay panic

username: idk if i wanna be them or be with them

username: u guys need a fourth?? or a dog??? or a cat??😁😁

username: i still don’t like y/n. she gives me such an ick. swear she just ruined their relationship.

landonorris: well you give me the ick but you don’t see me commenting on your posts! y/n has made lily and alex very happy, so please fuck off.

georgerussell63: y/n is such a sweet girl, ask carmen, or literally anyone else on the grid! she’s loved by all of us and most importantly, alex and lily love her. frankly, your opinion doesn’t matter!

charles_leclerc: we don’t know you so it seems like your comment is irrelevant 😊😊😊 you clearly don’t know alex or lily well enough to know how happy they are with her! keep your irrelevant opinions to yourself next time 😁

lilymhe: yeah, what they said!

yourusername: awh, my boyfriends boyfriends are so nice 🩷

alex_albon: gross lando isn’t my boyfriend

landonorris: u know u want to baby😘😘

alex_albon: stay away from me norizz ❌

georgerussell63: so i’m your bf? 😦

charles_leclerc: and me?😧

lilymhe: that makes carmen and alexandra our gfs LETS GOOO🙌🙌

carmenmmundt: LETS GOO🤗

alexandrasaintmleux: GIRLIES FTW🎉🎉🎉

yourusername: i like this comment thread 😊

[hiiikiko]

𝕚 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕔𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖 [5] : casual

“Yeah? You gonna believe them?”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

ellie williams x fem!reader | friends with benefits

casual m.list | tlou m.list

tw: cursing, light smut, ellie being a douche

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You groaned as you got up from bed, the previous nights events had done a number on you. After you had left Ellie in the restroom, you ran after Abby. Weaving through the crowded bar and finally getting a hold of her outside. She was leaning against a empty keg, her fists clenched, and her eyes fixated on a puddle in front of her.

“H-hey, Abs,” you said, your voice barely audible, you even wondered if you had said that in your mind or in your head.

Abby said nothing, instead, she turned her head away from you.

“I can explain,” liar, you couldn’t explain why you were drawn to Ellie or why you and her had such great chemistry, “I—.”

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say, Y/n,” Abby finally spoke up, you were almost grateful that she did because you truly did not know what you were going to say next, “You think you’re special? She’s a dog, Y/n, she’ll fuck anything that comes her way.”

You gritted your teeth, you didn’t want to believe what Abby was saying but deep down, you knew she was right.

The blonde continued, “Y’know this isn’t the first time she’s done this, Y/n..”

Your blurry eyes shot up, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Abby rubbed her temples and let out a dep sigh, “Ah, y’know how we were looking for a new lead singer before we found you? Well, our old lead singer’s name was Cat, she was the glue of our band and she really knew how to get the crowd goin’, er, not that you don’t, I’d say that you’re even better than her.. anyway, we had been a band for over a year and we were finally making a name for ourselves, at the time we were called “The Fireflies,” but a little after a year, Cat started acting fishy. She was constantly skipping practice, coming back to our place smelling of lucky strike cigarettes, and then one night, Manny was out at a bar, y’know how he is, and he saw her, Cat, our lead singer, in Ellie’s lap,” your mouth went dry and a ball was forming in the pit of your stomach, Abby gulped and continued, “So, when we confronted Cat, she went on and on about how this doesn’t involve the bands, that they truly do love each other, we… we, uh.. believed them.. they dated for around three months but the night before Battle of the Bands, she caught Ellie with another girl, a girl from another band, ‘The Ravens.”

You could still hear Abby’s word clear as day, even now as you brush your teeth.

“Fuck,” you groan, “How could I have been so stupid.”

Jesse hadn’t been home since last night, you were praying that he didn’t find out about what you and Ellie are.. were doing.

Your phone buzzes and reads ‘Coworker 1 - Glasses.’

You groan and burry your face in your pillow, you forgot all about work.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Arriving at work had you dead, your feat trudged in.

Please, please, please, please, please, please don’t let Ellie be here.

“Mornin’ doll,” you inwardly groaned.

You ignored the auburnette and made your way to the break room to get your badge from your locker and prep yourself for today.

Just as you had made your way into the room, you heard the door close a second time and before Ellie could say anything, you slammed your locker door shut and turned to face her, her lips were in a smirk, as fuckin’ usual, her eyebrows propped up in amusement at your sudden anger, and her eyes lingering on your pretty lips, “I’m really not in the fuckin’ mood right now Ellie, so, if you don’t mind, get the fuck outta here and stay outta my way, ‘kay?”

For a second, you could swear that her smirk falters but then it’s back on as quick as it went, “Aww, what’s matter, doll?” She sauntered over and used her arm to prop herself up against the lockers, her green eyes staring into yours.

You rolled your eyes, “While we’re at it, don’t contact me if it’s not about work, got that, Williams?”

With your back turned to her, you couldn’t see how Ellie flinched at the sound of you calling her by her last name, this time it stung a little more than usual.

The rest of your shift went by smoothly, Ellie stayed out of your way, mainly keeping to her office as she suddenly had a lot of inventory to prep. Closing was a different story..

It was just you and Ellie, this wasn’t unusual, the other employees had kids or siblings to pick up from school and you two were always available to work closing.

“Can.. can you help me with these boxes?”

You nodded and followed her into the back room, “What are these?”

“Guitar strings and stuff,” she muttered, “Uh, after this.. can we— never mind, you can leave after we get these outta the way..”

What was she going to say? You were curious but right now, you needed to focus on your band, “Okay.”

You were about to leave when Ellie ran up to meet you at the front door, “W-Wait!”

You turned around to look at her, “What, Williams?”

“Wanted to talk..”

You’re surprised.. you didn’t expect her to be so mature, you’re actually impressed but that feeling soon goes away when she speaks, “Why can’t we fuck anymore?”

You groan, “Ha, I can’t believe I—. I don’t need a reason, okay?”

“It’s Abby isn’t it?”

You shoot daggers at Ellie, “N-no..”

She laughs, folding her arms and rolling her eyes, “Of fuckin’ course.. you know, Y/n, I actually thought you had enough brain cells to think for yourself, I didn’t think that you were like every other brain dead bimbo with a half decent voice out there.”

Ouch, “Oh, fuck you, Williams. God, you think you’re so fuckin’ cool, huh? Just because you can play a good riff every once in awhile and because pathetic girls with no self worth throw themselves at you so that they can live their fantasy of being a groupie but you know what? You’re not as half the woman you think you are. You’re a liar, a fuckin’ cheat, and a player.”

Ellie almost looks hurt, “So, Abby told you, yeah? She told you all about how I’m a player? A cheat? Hm?” She punctuated each question by taking a step toward you, she had you pinned against the wall now, her arms on either side of you.

You nodded, “Y-yeah.”

“Yeah? So.. you gonna believe them? All those rumours?” Ellie leaned closer to you, her breath hot against your neck where old hi kids she had left were finally starting to fade away.

Before you could be tempted further, you pushed her off of you and rushed out of the shop, you could hear a faint chuckle as the door shut.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next few weeks were hell, you had no one to hook up with.. well, that’s a lie. Since moving to Seattle, multiple guys and girls and given you their phone number but none of them could live up to the new standards Ellie had set for you. So you decided to pour all that pent up sexual frustration into your music. It wasn’t that bad, you tried to convince yourself.

You tapped your pencil against your notepad, “I need this like a…. a….a..”

“Cigarette?” Jesse chimed from your doorway.

Your eyes lit up and you nodded him a thanks as you jot that down, “Thanks, man.. I… neeeed.. this.. like.. a cigarette.. no, actually.. I.. WANT.. this.. like a.. cigarette.”

“What’s that for,” Jesse sat across you, “Like, what’s it about.”

“It’s about a fucked up bitch with a fucked up perception of sex and a fucked up hook up,” you muttered, your pen working furiously at a paper.

“Well.. sounds great,” Jesse stuttered out, “Hey, so me and Dina are goin’ out for dinner, wanna come with?”

Without looking up from your paper, you shook your head, “Nah, I’m good..”

Jesse ripped the notepad from your hands, forcing you to make eye contact with him for the first time since he came into your room, “I’m worried about you, Y/n, you’ve been holed up in here for a few weeks now, you barely eat and all you ever do is write.”

“Battle of the bands is in two months and—!”

“You need to get out,” he sighed. He was right, you don’t know why you were keeping yourself holed up in here, you weren’t sad about Ellie.. just more so mad and Battle of the Bands was coming up so you had to get ready for that too, on top of dealing with the annoying auburnette at work and the frustrating blonde at band practice.

‘Come on, we can get something to eat, maybe go to a bar?”

You nodded and pulled yourself out of bed and got dressed.

The three of you went to a nearby bar, it was nice. A little different from the one you played at, it was still lively but the energy was different.. the room wasn’t full of smoke and the music wasn’t as loud.

“One whiskey,” you said to the bartender, she was a tall and muscular woman, a friend of Dina’s late sister. Her thick black hair was pulled into a ponytail, her tattooed arms covered by a rolled up flannel, she smiled at you as she handed you your whiskey. “On the house,” she winked.

You blushed a bit, for the rest of the night, she gave you free drinks and flirted back and forth with you.

She told you her shift ended in half an hour, obviously signaling you to wait up for her, which you did.

“Hey, you waited,” she marked.

“Y-yeah.. um.. your place or mine..?”

“Mm. let’s go to mine, yeah?”

You nodded and looked at your feet as the two of you walked, she said that it was a short distance away. As you were about to take another step, ash was flicked at your feet.

“The fuck?” A raspy voice echoed.

“Got a problem,” the bartender snarked at Ellie who was pushed herself off the wall, flicking her cigarette on the ground and snuffing it out.

“Yeah, I do,” she said, the bartender’s frame towering over her, she obviously was no match.

You groaned, you knew you were going to lose your hook up for this but you got in between them, “Hey.. sorry, but I think I should get her home..” you say to the bartender.

She scoffed and walk off muttering something like “Your loss.”

You could smell beer wafting off of Ellie’s breath, she smiled at you, obviously out of it, “God, Ellie, how many drinks did you have?”

She laughed and stumbled onto you, “You.. you called me by my first name,” she smiled at you like a puppy, “That’s so fuckin’ cool.. ugh.. Y/n..”

She tried to kiss you but her lips missed yours by an inch, “El— er, Williams, stop. Let’s take you home, ‘kay? Anyone I can call?”

She shook her head.. you were really dreading this.

You were able to find her keys and load her into the back of her van.

The drive to her place was.. eventful to say the least.. you stopped once for her to throw up, another time because she insisted the two of you get slushes, and once more because she claimed that the vehicle was too hot.

Getting her into her apartment was rather easy but as you made your way inside, Ellie was all over you. Her hands pulling you in by your waist, her smile pressing kisses into your chest, you whimpered at the familiar feeling, god, It’s been so long since you’ve had a good fuck..

I want this like a cigarette.

But, just as a cigarette could feel good, they were also detrimental.. so was Ellie. No matter how good Ellie could make you feel, you knew she had as many negative side effects as a cigarette.

1. She could fuck up your band. Her lips make their way back up to your neck.

2. You get attached. Her hands make their way under your shirt.

3. You ruin her band, causing Jesse and Dina to hate you.. She tugs at your nipples.

Before you could get to tease four, she’s got you wrapped around her finger.. all logic is out the window until, you hear her quietly say, “Knew you couldn’t quit me.”

You push her off, “The fuck does that mean?”

Through slurred chuckles she says, “You thought you could quit me, huh? You’re fuckiin’ addicted to me, doll, you’ll never be able to get a fuck better than me.”

You roll your eyes and fix your clothes, this was going to be the last time you’re ever alone with her.

“Bye,” you say as you slam her door, she says something but you can’t hear it.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Even though you weren’t allowing yourself to see Ellie, that didn’t mean you couldn’t stalk her instagram… right?

You clicked on her latest post, your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes fell on a picture of Ellie, pants unbuttoned, wearing a cropped tank, her boxers poking out, and her face in that goddamn smirk..

You couldn’t help but blush a little, a dull ache appearing in your panties as your hands made their way down south.

“Fuck,” you muttered as your hands skillfully worked at your aching clit, sometimes dipping down into your pretty hole.

As you pleasured your needy cunt, you imagined Ellie working her fingers inside you and teasing you for being such a desperate slut, begging for her to be inside you even though you know she’s bad.

You whimpered as you stared at her figure, the tank top hugged her so fuckin’ well and the way her eyes felt as if they were staring right at you made your pussy clench around your fingers. You were getting so close but then..

“SHIT,” you screamed, sitting straight up in your bed, the worst thing possible had happened…. you liked her photo..

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

taglist: @elliessweetheart @bready101 @elliecoochieeater @sevyscoven

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 4

Summary: After their reunion at the Atomic Wrangler, Cooper decides that he wants more than just a quickie out of his wandering trader.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings. Drug use and Alcohol. Fluff and Smut. Little longer than the other ones ❤️

DHGP Masterlist

Cooper sits on the side of the bed, inhaler in hand as he stares down at the chem. You are still asleep behind him, body tangled in the sheets, exhausted after the exciting reunion between the two of you. You had been a breath of fresh air for the ghoul, especially after finding out the truth behind the fate of his family, and then Lucy, the vaultie, had left him too. Gone back home to her vault to save them from those goddamn Bud's Buds.

Cooper had elected to stay in Vegas. He likes the city, and the booze was cheap, and the chems were even cheaper if you knew where to get them. However, now that the ghoul was borderline sober, and with you by his side, Cooper realized that he'd had something to look forward to. To live for again. You.

Every time the two of you had crossed paths, you never failed to send the ghoul's black heart racing. You were a wastelander through and through, but you were good, and Cooper didn't want to let that go. No. He would hold on tight, and nothing in heaven or hell would get him to let you go.

First thing first, however, was to show you that he was serious and that he cared for you beyond a quick fuck and drug transactions. Cooper turned in the bed and leaned over you, tucking his knuckle under your chin and kissing you until you woke up. A soft sigh escaped you when the ghoul pulled away, and you opened your eyes to see him above you.

"Well, that's one way to wake a girl up," you murmur, and shift to your back, opening your arms so that Cooper can fall against your chest, his face pressed in the crook of your neck. You hum softly and press a kiss to his bald head, "What's got you in such a good mood?"

Cooper buries himself against you, shoving his arms under you so that he can hold you close. He listens to your heartbeat, and the sound of content he makes sounds more like a cat purr than anything else. He debates with himself before deciding to hell with it.

"Let me take you out. On a proper date," He began, and the more he spoke, the more he felt like his old self, Cooper Howard, before the end of the world, "You deserve it after everything you've done for me."

You eyed him, though your lips were already turning up at the idea. Who knew your ghoul was such a romantic? You tilt your head to the side, "Oh? And what did you have in mind?"

Cooper rises to his elbow and admires how your hair halos around your face. You are beautiful, even sleepy-eyed, and dressed in nothing but your panties.

"We're in Vegas, Baby. Let's make the most of it."

~~~~~

Mick and Ralph's had a surprising number of preserved prewar clothing, and you picked through the dresses looking for the perfect fit. You spotted a cute, blue number that would hug you in all the right places and billow out at the waist. Mick even had a cute pair of kitten heels that he gave you on the house.

Cooper had also done some digging around and conveniently found one of his old set costumes. The colors were faded, but they looked brand new compared to the get-up he always wore. Dressed to impress, the ghoul admired himself in the cracked mirror. If you ignored the obvious, Cooper looked like he'd just come off set of A Man and His Dog.

He wold whistles when you step out of the back room, and even though you're custom to his flirty behavior, you still blush bright and give Cooper a tiny grin. You've never had an opportunity to wear something so nice before, and it made you feel different, but not in a bad way.

"Well, look at you, Darlin'. All dressed up and beautiful for little ol' me," He crooned and snagged your hand, spinning you in a slow circle so that he could admire you from all angles. You give him a smile so full of fond amusement that Cooper’s heart stutters in his chest.

"Only for you, Cowpoke," you say and curl your hand behind his head to tug him down for a quick kiss that Cooper melts into.

After paying Mick and Ralph, Cooper escorts you to the gate of the Strip where the securitrons let the two of you by after flashing the passports you'd paid the shop owners for. Inside, the flashing neon lights made you squint, and you did your best to take it all in at once.

"A lot's changed since the last time I've been here," Cooper comments and casts his gaze around. It's been over two hundred years, but the Vegas Strip still felt the same. The two of you bypass Gomorrah and the Ultra Lux, and instead, head for the Tops where a man with blonde, slicked-back hair greets them with a suave grin.

"Hey, hey cats. My name is Swank. Welcome to the Tops Casino. The floor is open, and Tommy's got some real class acts tonight on stage if you're interested."

The two of you hand over any weapons that couldn't be concealed and head upstairs to the theater. A live band is playing on stage, and a place has been cleared in the middle of the room for dancing. Cooper leads you to a corner booth and drops to kiss your brow before he lopes off to order you both a drink.

From there, the night goes off without a hitch. The two of you drink til you feel tipsy and brazen enough to tug the ghoul out to the dance floor where Cooper upstages you and everyone else there. He twirls and dips you, leaving you a giggling mess and eyes only for him.

At some point, Cooper gets the grand idea to spend some caps on some chips, and you stand beside him as he cleans the blackjack table, coming away with more chips that you have to help him carry back to the exchange desk. The two of you eventually stumble out of the Tops and mosied back down the road to Gomorrah.

Their weapons are confiscated once more, and Cooper pays the receptionist for a hotel room for later on. He doubted that they would be sober enough to leave this place later on.

His hunch was right hours later when the two of you stumbled to the elevator. Coop's arm is tight around your waist, holding you close to keep you from tipping over. You cling to him, giggling as you wind your arms around his neck, and he catches your eyes, glassy from the jet that one of the dancers had given you.

"Your eyes are so pretty, ya know that?" You slur, and Cooper snickers as he leads you out of the elevator and down the hall to the room he'd rented. He's not nearly as gone as you, but he chalks that up to being used to the substance abuse.

You plop on the bed and reach back for the zipper of your dress, feeling too constricted in the blue fabric, and get stuck with it halfway off. Cooper laughs at you and comes to help, tugging the dress away and tossing it behind him before he pounces.

His lips meet yours in a slow kiss, a gentle give and take that turns heated when you bite his lip hard enough to hurt. You sooth it with your tongue, and groan when Cooper curls his own around the slippery muscle, the kiss wet and sloppy. He looms over you, keeping himself propped up with his elbow, while his other hand grips your waist, and rocks his hips down.

Cooper groans into the kiss when his clothed cock meets the heat between your thighs. You buck against him, whining into the kiss and demanding he take his damn pants off already.

"Patience, young grasshopper," Cooper rumbles above you and slides off the bed to button his shirt and jeans. He folds them almost reverently before he turns back to the bed and crawls on top of you, "Great things come to those who wait."

You scoff at him, though your lips are tilted up in amusement, "I've been waiting forever, Coop."

Your legs fall open and wrap around his waist. You are so wet that the ghoul can see slick glistening in the low light of the room where it clings to your puffy folds. He swallows harshly when you reach down and spread them, giving him an excellent view of your clit and twitching hole.

"Now I want you to fuck me like you mean it."

Cooper doesn't need to be told twice and spits in his hand before wrapping it around his cock and stroking himself twice before he lines up and sinks down to his balls. Your cunt throbs around him, pulling him impossibly closer, and he falls forward, hips humping forward as you cling to him.

Coop fucks you like it's his last day on Earth. He shifts to his knees, and his cock slips even further, pressing against something inside you that makes stars shatter. You curse loudly, Cooper’s name falling from your lips like a mantra as he hooks your legs over his shoulders and bends you over. The new position makes it hard to breathe, but all you want is more.

"'M close," Cooper grunts in your ear, and you lock your knees around his head, meeting him thrust for thrust as you work for your release. He unlocks his jaw and bites into the hollow of your throat. The pain is enough to send you over the edge, your pussy fluttering and gushing around the ghoul's cock.

"Ah-fuck," He snarls and follows you right over the edge, pumping you full of seed until it dribbled out from your stuffed cunt. He finds your lips kissing you as he rides out his orgasm, hips jerking when you tighten around him.

Cooper lays there, breathing you in and curling his arms tight around your waist. He is far too tired to move, and you don't seem to mind the extra weight with how tightly you hold him back. The ghoul feels at peace as if a part of his life he'd been missing has slotted back into place. He raises his head just enough to catch your eyes, and you reward him with an adoration-filled smile, but it's your words that cause his heart to explode like an atomic bomb.

"I love you."

You don't expect Cooper to pull you in for another kiss, this one soft and slow. He rests his brow against yours and wonders how he ever made it this far without you.

"I love you, too."

Holy moly, that got way sweeter than I intended. I hope you enjoyed it!❤️