#Time to grab a cat and cuddle 'em while I rest

[tswwwit]

Cult Reincarnation part Three! Here's parts One and Two if you missed 'em.

The followers of Bill Cipher are the most blessed of believers. Strong and devoted, they are empowered to overcome all things, through service to their god.

And in times of trouble, the devout always have something to turn to. 

Dipper bows his head before the golden image, and tries to force his muscles into a semblance of relaxation. 

Worship.

He hopes hating every second of it doesn’t matter. If it works at all. 

Praying to a god, in the domain of said god, should technically speaking be overkill. This kind of thing is supposed to reach through the veil between planes, not just partway across a building. The process has a lot of kick to it. 

That’s the theory, anyway. Dipper’s working with what he’s got - 

But he’s not sure Bill’s all that easy to reach. 

No worshiper has ever called for help and received it. There were excuses, of course. Dozens of them. But brushing them off with a ‘not worthy’ doesn’t work when it’s literally everyone.

Either nobody’s worthy, or no help is provided. From what Dipper’s learned about the god himself, it’s the latter. 

Probably because Bill doesn’t care about most of them. Maybe because he thinks it’s funny. The third guess -  that he thinks helping is boring - is currently leading the pack.

There’s another reason, too. One that’s… technically possible, but Dipper’s trying not to think about it. 

No matter what the cause of it, none of those bode well for Dipper’s plan. That’s on top of the fact that summoning Bill is, by all metrics, an incredibly reckless idea. 

Still, desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Dipper needs a quick way out of an awful situation, and it’s one he got himself into this time.

Focusing on the shape of Bill in the window, Dipper concentrates. Breathing in, then out. 

He snaps his fingers, and the candles bloom with bright blue fire, before settling down to the standard red-yellow glow. Despite everything, he spends a brief second admiring the tiny flames.

The magic comes so easily to him now. Studying mysterious texts found in a hideous nightmare realm is another bad idea, but you can’t argue with results. Whoever gathered the books in the guest room must have -

Another wailing howl rings down the corridor. A distant scrabbling echo, the scrape of claws on stone.

Dipper drops to his knees and scrambles to finish his makeshift setup. Something ninety percent cribbed from the ritual he ‘volunteered’ for, minus all the blood.

Rushing through this isn’t optimal, but hell, none of this is. Dipper’s working on a hope and a literal prayer. Being in the guy’s home instead of a dimension away should amplify the effect. Bill might not be able to ignore him, if he’s loud enough.

When the alternative is being devoured by wandering demons, Dipper’s willing to have a bit of faith. 

Just a smidgen, though. Enough to make this work.

Another chattering sound, though more distant, gives him plenty more panic-induced belief to work with. 

With all the setup done, Dipper claps his hands together. He tries to steady his breathing. The words of the ritual resonate in his mind instead of out loud, which should be good enough considering the god in question.

And he knows Bill, too. Personally, not abstractly. Dipper can hold the image of him in his mind as clearly as if he was standing in the room. The fact that it’s a human shape shouldn’t matter. He’s… ninety five percent certain it won’t.

Now. If he focuses. If he reaches out with sincere effort and desire, pushing with the magic that bubbles inside him - this should work. 

He really, really hopes it works. 

“You rang?”

His heart nearly leaps into his throat. Jerking up right, Dipper whips around towards the voice. 

Where Bill Cipher stands. He’s right behind him and just to his left, as smug and dapper as always. Appearing out of freaking nowhere.

Dipper slumps back down to the floor as Bill wiggles his fingers in greeting.

That’s one hell of a response time. He’d barely gotten started before Bill popped into place.

“Looks like you had a fun little jaunt!” Bill claps his hands together, leaning - but not quite looming - over him. “I wondered where you’d run off to!”

The phrasing makes Dipper wince. That’s not - he hopes Bill didn't really mean that. It would mean he got the wrong idea. 

Dipper didn’t ‘run off’, because he’s not stupid. No matter what other people might have said. 

All he wanted was a cursory look around. Checking out if there were other ‘apartments’, see if there were any windows. Something brief enough to let him get an idea of what kind of place he was dealing with, then heading back to the relative safety of Bill’s place.

Which might be the weirdest part of all. 

That it is safe, for a limited version of the word.

Since being kidnapped, he’s had zero new injuries. Plenty of comfort, reasonable safety, and very little to hide from. Material comforts, not promises that never get realized. Even his room in Bill’s place is the nicest place he’s ever lived, cozy by any definition.

Casting everything aside for the chance at an ‘exit’ is a dumb choice. 

Dipper was doing just fine where he was. No running off anywhere. He’s been perfectly fine with his three little rooms, even if it’s a bit limiting. 

Technically he has access to four, if you include the living room. But that one usually has Bill in it.

Some worshippers would have bled far, far more than Dipper did, for even the briefest chance at access to their god. Getting their messages to him directly, basking in his radiant golden presence, accessing all his mysteries - a dream that they could hope to think about achieving, one day in the future.

And they’d all be disappointed.

Turns out Bill’s both weirder and more crazy than any scripture made it seem. It’s nothing like… anything, really.

Dozens of passionate sermons on Bill’s infinite wrath, crumbling in the face of him being totally, bizarrely chill with everything Dipper’s done so far. Hours of speeches about his unknowable motives, and infinite grandeur, shattered by watching him pontificate on whether he should wear the ‘cool’ socks today, or the ‘ones with little duckies on them’. 

Hell, Dipper watched his god blow up half of a wall by accident and shrug it the hell off - then later get so mad at something on interdimensional television he choked on the gummy bears he was eating.

Years of study has done nothing to prepare Dipper for this, and he was the one looking in forbidden texts. 

It’s. Informative. But also, like, a lot. 

So for the most part, Dipper decided to hole up in the guest room. It’s easier than parsing the god puzzle, and the alone time is nice. 

In the last… few days? More than a week, possibly, he’s had time to read, write notes, take uninterrupted naps, and nothing bad has happened to him. Peace and quiet came at a premium back in the compound. Here, all he has to do is shut a door. 

Still, books only last so long to keep someone occupied. Confinement has always made Dipper kinda stir-crazy. 

And on the one occasion when Bill wasn’t in the living room, well. Curiosity has always driven Dipper into absolutely dumb actions. Including going snooping again. Maybe a tiny bit of peeking into Bill’s bedroom, because the door was unlocked. 

And since that was unlocked, it only made sense to test the knob leading out of Bill’s quarters.

It’s not Dipper’s fault the damn door disappeared the moment he stepped outside.

So really, he didn’t ‘run off’. He wasn’t trying to escape, or even go too far from his room.

He just got bored.

And when that went south, he didn’t have many other options. Turns out the Fearamid is full of demons. He saw that on the way in, but he didn’t truly understand the extent. 

Without Bill escorting him, the concept got hammered in pretty much immediately.

The moment he stepped out, he must have caught the attention of damn near every demon in this godawful place. One young human, basically catnip for monsters. The first one showed up within a minute.

Time is strange here, though. It might have been longer. 

Dipper has been running for what feels like hours. 

“What’s the matter, kid? Trip not as fun as you expected?” Bill gives his shoulder a friendly shake. “Or didja just miss me?”

Dipper shrugs. 

Sure, it’s nice Bill showed up. It’s great that he’s not deadly. But he’s arguably a different kind of problem.

A few tugs on his shirt make him reluctantly stand, turning to face Bill. Despite being summoned in his own home, he’s surprisingly upbeat. 

“Now I’m guessing you called me - and this is just off the top of my head here - that once you got going, you couldn’t find your way back.” Bill sets fists on his hips, eminently amused. “A little lost lamb like you musta freaked out!”

Before Dipper can do more than shrug, something with way too many limbs scuttles around a corner, filling the hallway with a writhing mass. He surges closer to Bill, heart in his throat.

A moment later the creature spots Bill, and freezes in place. Then, lifting each of its limbs like it’s tiptoeing, it backs all the way up and around the corner. Like it opened a door, saw something twice as horrific as itself - and then carefully shut it again, trying to pretend that didn’t happen.

“Do me a favor, though, and put a little less ‘oomph’ into the magic next time.” Bill pushes a pinky into his ear and twists it around, then pulls it out and flicks it clean. “That crap was loud.”

Dipper nods rapidly. Yep, can do. At some point he started clutching Bill’s elbow, but he’s not about to stop. Not here.

With Bill guiding him, the mazelike corridors present no further problems. Even though they do turn around at least three times, and at one point walk on the actual ceiling, Bill keeps going with perfect confidence in his stride. 

There aren't’ any interruptions, either. Compared to mere minutes before, the halls are mysteriously quiet and empty, leaving him and Bill to stroll along, hand on elbow.

When they arrive back at the penthouse, Bill opens the door with a sweep of his arm, and a slight bow that might be mocking - but Dipper’s too tired to be bothered.

So much for the ‘escape’ idea. Running around the Fearamid was nothing but an exercise in terrified frustration.

It would be rational, Dipper knows, to be more upset. But the cult was also a confusing, stupid, terrifying place that held him captive, and back there he could never count on having a hot bath, or privacy, or sleep. 

A few weeks ago he would have said the threat of death back home was lower, but now? He knows which one he’d choose, any day. 

The one confounding factor is Bill himself. 

In the cult, you couldn’t avoid him at all. Always talking about him, if you still were able. Praying to his idols, going to the rituals, chanting and waving your hands like an idiot in the air. Making sure that your every action pleased him. Following all his orders. Every day, some part of your day was spent thinking or acting on his wishes.

Actually being around him every day requires… precisely none of that. He’s so -

‘Different’ would be the wrong word. A being who’s lived for literal eons doesn’t change things up on a dime. 

This is Bill Cipher without any convenient ‘reinterpretations’. 

The priest was wrong about Bill. Everything he said was at best incorrect, and more likely a bunch of self-serving bullshit. Everything they ever did was stupid and wrong. Bill never cared about what they did, or all the prayers they sent or literally any devotional action. And that’s a true, unshakable fact, because the opposite idea - that Dipper’s mere presence changes Bill’s behavior, even one iota - is laughably outrageous.

Another slight shake. Bill, trying to catch his attention again. He’s raised an eyebrow, examining Dipper’s face as he thinks.

Right, Dipper should - uh. Probably just get out of here. Before Bill does something like get annoyed at his ungrateful guest. Or worse, put on the expectant look again.

With a quick nod, and a ‘cute’ smile, he shuffles out from under his arm, and scuttles for the guest room. 

Everything’s just as he left it. The open book. The tidy sheets. The notes he was taking, before he noticed Bill was gone and thought he’d have a tiny look around -

“Haven’t done much redecorating, I see.”

Dipper nearly leaps out of his skin. Shit, what - 

Behind him, Bill hovers at a disrespectful distance. His eye is narrowed, and his expression suggests a man who’s not terribly impressed. 

“A full week shoulda had you settled in way more.” Bill says, shaking his head in… disappointment? He stalks around Dipper casually, glancing around the room. “Hey, you made the bed! That’s rare!”

Dipper’s mouth works, but that’s an old, dumb instinct. He shuts it, and glares. 

Bill wanders around, casually pacing around the small space. A quick check of the bed, yanking out the sheets until they’re messy again - then setting his fists on his hips, looking proud of himself.

Okay. This is new. 

Bill’s been around, but he’s never intruded before. Every time Dipper wasn’t sure how to deal with him, he could retreat back to the guest room and be sure that he’d have some space. Quiet, too, aside from the occasional piano playing, drifting through the door.

Now he’s thinking all of that was a courtesy. 

Obviously Bill can’t be kept out of what is, after all, his place. He’s simply chosen not to intrude until now. 

With supreme confidence, Bill drops onto the bed, tucking his arms behind his head and crossing one leg over the other - yeah. Still his place, and he knows it. He didn’t even take his shoes off. 

“Oh!” A bright grin crosses Bill’s face. He rummages under the pillow for a second. “I take it back - you did make one addition to the decor.” 

With a grin, he brandishes the stupid plush of himself like he was holding up his firstborn child. Because he is, as Dipper learned, a narcissist. 

Ugh, of course he’d find that. Dipper looks away, trying to keep his annoyance off his face. 

“Yeah, yeah, glare all you like, kid.” Bill says, wagging a chiding finger. “You’ve been making yourself scarce, but you can’t avoid me forever! At the very least ya need to get those stitches out in a few days.” A smirk. “Though I’d love to see you manage that yourself.”

Dipper can’t argue with that. He does try to stop glaring, but it’s surprisingly difficult. 

“What?” Bill sits up, setting mini-Bill in his lap. He raises an eyebrow. “Not got anything to say?”

Obviously not. Dipper folds his arms, and tries not to look at - not an interloper, this is Bill’s. He’s the guest. Getting bothered by it is rude at best.

“But no! Silent as the night is long, and orders of magnitude more boring. This whole time, I haven’t heard a peep from you, Pine Tree. And I've been very patient.” Bill sighs, running a hand through his hair. “What gives?”

Like that’s not obvious, either. Dipper pinches his lips together, tight. 

There was a sacrifice. Made in Bill’s name, and for his honor. A devotion bestowed unto him. He can ignore cries for help, but there’s no way Bill didn’t notice that. Just like when he showed at the ritual, or at Dipper’s impromptu summoning. The call would have been too strong. 

No, even stronger. With that much blood spilled, it must have been like a signal beacon.

Bill knows what went on. He just didn’t care. 

And now he’s being an asshole, just because he can.

“It’s especially irritating when you have plenty of avenues to make a statement.” Bill rises from the bed with a sigh, dropping mini-Bill back onto the pillows. “You just haven’t put in the effort!”

Without waiting for a response, he stalks straight past Dipper and over to the desk. He runs his fingers over the surface, caressing the edge of -

Oh, shit, no.

His journal. That he left out, like an idiot, assuming Bill would never, ever come in here to see it-

By now it’s far too late - he must have seen a bit already -  but Dipper hurries over towards him anyway. It’s not like he can shove Bill out of the way, or smack anything out of his hand. The repercussions would - he doesn’t want to think about those; they make him feel so sick.

Bill’s already picked it up, he even turned a page - 

“See? You’re literate, sapling! Reading and writing, both at your command.” He rests the journal against where his heart would theoretically be. “Why haven’t you shown any of it off?”

For a lot of very good reasons. For fuck’s sake. Bill’s already intimated that he knows Dipper doesn’t really believe. But he is arrogant, and powerful. A terrible, awful, confusing god.

He can’t be allowed to read that journal, because gods do not like being called ‘assholes’. Even if it’s true.

Though it’s a dumb move, Dipper makes a grab for the damning evidence. Bill’s too quick though; he misses by a mile.

“Oop!” Bill raises his arm high, looking at Dipper with amusement. “Aww, nice try! So close.” With a wink, he dangles Dipper's own personal, very private notebook over his head. Why does this bastard have to be tall, damn it. “What, you want this?” 

Dipper grits his teeth. No, he was never going to get it back by force, or speed, or even a quick wit. One young human doesn’t stand a chance. 

Desperate times. Desperate measures.

It worked before. It might work now, 

Dipper takes a slow breath, and lets it out. Then he shuts his eyes, and kneels. 

Above him, he hears Bill’s laugh fall silent. Slightly placated, then. A little more should do the trick. 

With a great effort of will, Dipper bows his head, hands pressed together. He can get through this. He can kneel and - kind of sit awkwardly on his foot, he shifts his weight and braces his palm on Bill’s thigh for balance. 

He’s about to start praying when something hits him in the head with a thump. 

Dipper jerks back, hissing through his teeth. He starts rubbing at the spot, head lowered - 

And when he blinks at the floor, a book flops unceremoniously open on the carpet. 

Before Bill can move, Dipper snags the journal that was just dropped on him. Tucking it under his arm for safekeeping, and scooting back on the carpet. 

“Eh, whatever. Go ahead and keep it.” Bill folds his arms, turning away to sit back down on the bed. Weirdly huffy for a guy who was getting worshiped. Maybe Dipper did it wrong. “Besides! I don’t need to skim through some book to know you.”

Welp, that’s ominous. 

Dipper shuffles back over to the desk. He glances over at Bill - looking away, still in his odd sulk - then opens a drawer, drops his journal in, and shuts it with his hip.

Another huff from Bill. By his face he’s not in a great mood, but it doesn’t seem to be actively dangerous.

And he doesn’t make another move for the journal. Even though it’s full of secrets.

That’s one relief. Maybe he considers Dipper’s secrets too boring. Maybe Bill’s not interested in them, beyond using them to antagonize him. 

He’s a god, anyway. A demon slash god slash infinite being of pure energy. All human thought should be totally beneath his notice, just like the fleeting human lives that make up his cult -

But that doesn’t make sense, either. 

Dipper rubs at his eyes. Silently willing any part of this, at any time, to finally come together. 

Because if humans were totally beneath Bill’s notice, why is one of them here? Living in his home, taking up his space, eating his food and breathing his air and getting weird expectant looks. Even for a supernatural being, that’s no small effort.

If it were just about his blood, Dipper could understand that. It wouldn’t be very fun, but he’d get it. 

But it’s not. Because none of it has been spilled since the ritual. Because nothing’s been painful or threatening or - okay, a lot of it’s been weird, but nothing like the scriptures said it would be. All the rules Dipper’s learned simply don’t seem to apply. 

Bill’s supposed to be - 

He’s supposed to be different, is all. 

But hee can hardly blame Bill for that. It’s not his fault people got him wrong, or idealized him, or if he’s super weird - that last part was advertised, extensively. 

There’s a lot of things that a lot of people are ‘supposed’ to be, Dipper guesses. It never really fits them, in the end.

He just doesn’t understand why Bill’s doing this. 

“Don’t think we’re not gonna go over the main pain of the day, either.” Bill gives Dipper a long, annoyed look. “What kinda guy stays at another guy’s place and doesn’t give him so much as a ‘hello’?”

Dipper shrugs, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He can’t quite meet Bill’s eye. 

Okay, technically Bill’s right. That would be rude, if it weren’t for certain circumstances. 

“And I don’t mean chanting a prayer, either! You got fully functional hands and a brain.” With a frown, Bill stands and approaches. Dipper backs up against the desk, but Bill stops a couple feet away, hands on his hips. “Why not write a thank-you note or something?”

Oh. Well. 

That was always an option. Dipper just didn’t know Bill wanted it. 

And why would he? Bill’s a mental god, a mind reader. Always keeping an eye on him. The idea that he just wants to be ‘talked’ to is…. 

Yeah, another weird thing. Hell, at least Dipper can do that. It might not even be too embarrassing.

Before he can grab a pen and paper off the desk, Bill shoves a whiteboard and marker in his hands. He nearly jumps back, before accepting it with reasonable dignity. Despite having seen it before, Bill manifesting things out of nowhere is remarkably startling.

Now he’s left staring at it. Wondering what he should do.

“Ahem,” Bill clears his throat. “You could start with a, ‘Hi Bill!’ or, ‘You’re amazing, Bill’. Y’know, any kinda standard greeting.” He claps his hands together, grinning wide. “But I’ll give you more points for creativity.”

Dipper glances down at the blank white board, then back up at Bill. He clamps his mouth shut, trying to focus.

That was a joke. Right? He’s, like, 90% the ‘points’ are rhetorical, not literal. How do you get a bad grade in talking to a god? What metric would Bill use to - damn it, he’s overthinking this already. 

What would be a good answer. What would be bad? And what’s the horribly wrong one that ends in disaster? 

Dipper hesitates, biting his lip. He hears Bill make a soft groan, either impatient or already disappointed.

Great. Yet another chance to fail his god. Just like all the other times Bill waited for something, and didn’t get it. Now he’s going to read something Dipper wrote, words made just for him, and those will be the first words Dipper’s ever said directly to him. They have to be - 

Shit. Right. 

Another glance up - Bill has his expectant look on again, and somehow it’s even brighter this time. Watching tantalizing treat, held just out of reach - but maybe arriving, in a moment.

Of course. That’s what Bill’s been waiting for.

The only truly wrong answer is not giving one.

Dipper gives a quick smile, and starts scribbling on the whiteboard. He can do this. It may not be great, but he can hardly do worse than nothing. 

The instant he puts marker to surface, Bill’s grin somehow widens to an impossible degree, even though it’s the single most boring thing that could be going on in the nightmare realm. He even claps a few times, like a particularly annoying, demonic seal.

His enthusiasm takes some of the pressure off. Even if Dipper can’t bring himself to use the most worshipful greetings, Bill should be pleased nonetheless.

“Lemme see, lemme see!” Bill beckons him closer, eye bright and lit from within. 

For a second, Dipper’s tempted to hold the board to his chest, feeling warm in the face. It’s really not a big deal. Bill doesn’t need to make one out of it.

After a second, he turns his head away and the board around, where he’s written a fairly neutral - but still devoted! - greeting.

‘I am at your service, my lord.’

Bill looks down at the board.

Then he looks up at Dipper’s face, searching it for something. Then down again. 

The smile has slid away, leaving a mix of alarm and disgust behind. Like Bill bit into a donut he’d been saving for a special occasion, and got a mouthful of frog spawn. 

The reaction is so unexpected that Dipper’s more baffled than nervous. What, is it his handwriting? A quick check proves it’s perfectly legible. 

“Cute, I guess! Give it another shot.” Bill says, and wipes the board clean with two fingers. He laughs, in the tone of someone who’s seen a terrible social gaffe and is glossing over it. “Try ‘Bill’, instead. ‘Handsome’, if you’re daring. A pet name, even!” His smile inches briefly downward. “But ‘bout skip the ‘lord’ or ‘master’ for the next few years. Minimum.”

Dipper slowly turns the board back around, though he does side-eye Bill for a moment. He gets a grip on the marker again, pausing for thought. 

What the hell, that was a classic. Every supernatural being likes deference. Especially the powerful ones. Except now the rules have changed up, again, without any rhyme or reason, because Bill just has to be super weird, all the goddamn time. 

Not that he’s going to comment on it. If Bill overthinks this ‘no groveling’ decision, he might change his mind. 

After a few seconds of deliberation - Bill staring the whole time - he goes with, ‘Hi Bill’

“Much better,” Bill says with satisfaction. He rubs his hands together, smiling wide. “Man, we have a lot of catching up to do!”

He leans in, very, very close, making Dipper lean back against the desk. He clutches the board tight, smiles awkwardly - and hopes this won’t be too bad. 

One of Bill Cipher’s domains of power is knowledge. Another is secrets. 

With the way Bill asks questions, it’s like Dipper has a bunch that he doesn’t already know about. 

Bill wants to know his favorite color - blue - tells him it should be yellow, with a haughty sniff, then erases Dipper’s apology and insists he tell him about his brief trip outside. And about how he likes the penthouse. How he’s found the accommodations - comfy, thank you - and a thousand other minor, dull details. Keeping up with the sheer barrage makes Dipper’s hand cramp, even when he skips out on full sentences. 

It’s one of the longest conversations - insofar as it is one - that Dipper’s ever had with someone outside his old cult. Bill, meanwhile, is the god of that cult, and he still doesn’t seem to know anything about it. Or at least he’s asking a hell of a lot of questions about really, objectively, boring crap. At some point, Dipper realizes that eternal smile isn’t there anymore, so it’s probably boring him, too.

“All of that aside - I think we oughta get to the heart of the matter, as it were.” Bill snaps his fingers, and the grin resurges. 

Dipper nods. He swallows, throat bobbing, and ducks his head. 

Okay. Everything else has been kind of surface level. Now he must be moving on to deeper secrets. Things in Dipper’s head that have never seen the light of day. Or the ones that have, and Bill’s going to dig into them, deeply. Possibly painfully so -

“Why won't you talk to me?” Bill whines. 

What?

Dipper runs that sentence back through his head, but there’s no other word for it. The high, nasal tone, the slump of Bill’s shoulders. A look that might be a pout - he’s sulking again, but way harder this time. 

But that - Dipper double-checks his board, recalling all his responses. It can’t be something he wrote, that was all pretty bland. So either Bill’s just being weird again, or - something. Another thing.

Damn it. He wishes he had more space to pick this apart, but Bill’s been so close and talking too fast. He didn’t have time to analyze while bracing against the flood.

“Seriously, what are we looking at here?” Bill says, straightening up. He paces around Dipper in a circle, arms tucked behind his back. “Vow of silence? Cause if so, I’m your god, and I say screw that! Pipe up anytime!”

Dipper shakes his head. No. If it was, he would have violated it a long time ago. It’s a weird guess.

It’s weird that Bill is guessing.

“Ethereal binding? A curse, maybe?” The idea must strike him as a fun one, because Bill perks up again. “Now if we’re talking curses, oh man! I’ve got a whole collection! There’s dozens of ways to break those, kid. Hell, depending on type, we could get you patched up this evening!”

Again, Dipper shakes his head. He huffs out a sigh, about to correct Bill’s incredibly wrong assumption - 

Then pauses with the marker above the board. Because - well - Bill wouldn’t want to be told the obvious. He should know this already. 

Dipper bites his lower lip again, frowning at the blank white space. 

Shouldn’t he?

Meanwhile, Bill rattles off more speculations, each one more bizarre than the last. No, he didn’t make a deal with a sea witch, or a harpy. He didn’t wander into the bog of silence, or sell his voice for some magic beans. 

By this point he’s not bothering to hold up the board and marker anymore, just so he can shrug better. Without writing down his responses, he has more space to think.

He already knew the ‘didn’t care’ part. An ambivalent, cruel god would hardly have reason to help any easily replaceable mortal. The ‘bored’ part might fit, if Bill wasn’t so bluntly fascinated by the topic. Obviously Bill thinks some suffering is fun, but this ‘conversation’ doesn’t entertain him. It’s something…

There… was a another idea. One Dipper kept to himself. 

An assumption, and one that he knows so, so much better than to speak aloud.

Not that he can ever do that again. 

Looking at Bill’s face, though. He’s gone quiet, momentarily. Looking back at Dipper with his head cocked to one side. Staring, intensely, like he wants to drill the answer straight out of his brain. Which he can, he’s Bill freakin’ Cipher. But he’s not doing it for whatever reason, so Dipper just has to roll with that.

At the end of the day, there’s no other conclusion to come to. 

That despite the all-seeing eye, the power of a god, and knowing mysteries of the multiverse - 

Maybe Bill actually, genuinely, doesn’t... 

Dipper has to try a couple times before he gets the letters down without them wobbling too much. He gets them down with careful strokes, board feeling heavy in his hands.

His hands only shake a little when he flips it around. 

‘You don’t know?’

“Hey, I know tons, kid! A billion things! I could tell you what I had for breakfast, January 25, 1938! Or what Machiavelli did in his spare time! But that’s stuff I was personally involved in.” Bill scoffs. Then waves vaguely, not meeting Dipper’s eye. “Whatever went on in your little conclave wasn’t on my radar. I might be short on specifics.” 

Even though he was already expecting something like that, the admission catches Dipper off guard. 

Holy shit, he was right.

Bill genuinely didn’t know. He just said it, though not in so many words. 

He just. Said it. 

There are things in the world that he doesn’t notice, or - or things that he misses, he’s not - 

As Dipper reels at the revelation, he braces himself on the desk. Bill’s arm shoots out, bracing his waist like he thinks Dipper’s going to fall. 

And. If this wasn’t for - if this wasn’t from Bill. If he didn’t command it from afar. If it wasn’t his order. Then it was always the people around him, especially the priest, and Dipper didn’t, maybe, do something wrong, he just. 

Dipper sniffs, then wipes at his face with his sleeve. Hopefully it looks like he was scratching an itch or something. 

Weirdly, Bill’s serious face starts edging towards… surprise? Alarm? He coughs into his fist. “So, about the-”

Dipper waves him off, then realizes that was stupid. He picks up the board again, and scribbles, ‘I can’t.’

“What do you mean you ‘can’t’?”

How is he not getting this? Dipper huffs out a breath, and underlines ‘can’t’. Twice. 

Bill rolls his eye, patting the air in a calming motion. “Alright, alright. Straight up incapable! Now are we talking emotionally, spiritually…” It was already weird to see him serious. Now, his expression is far too calm.  “Or physically?”

Maybe Dipper shouldn’t admit this. Maybe telling Bill would get someone in trouble, but it’s not Dipper in trouble, maybe never should have been, and momentum carries him forward. 

It takes a second to write it. The words keep coming out wrong. 'They said it was for blasphemy’.

"Show me." Both Bill's face and voice are dead flat. 

The sharpness of the command stings. Dipper winces, jaw clenching tight. 

There’s the first order he’s been given. Until now, Bill hasn’t bothered, and all things considered it could be worse. 

But it is an order. Dipper swallows against the nausea rising, and clenches his fists.

Okay. He can do this. It’s been a long time since he took a look in the mirror at that particular sight, but - right, lord of nightmares. He’s probably seen way worse. 

Under Bill’s impatient gaze, Dipper carefully sets his board and marker aside. Then he shuts his eyes, points at his mouth, and opens it. 

He only holds it that way for, like, a little bit. Exposing this sucks. It makes his mouth dry, and having Bill stare at it makes the twist in his stomach worse.  A few seconds all he can stand before he shuts it again. 

A low growl rumbles. 

Then Bill’s thumb digs into the corner of his mouth, pulling it back and shoving in between his teeth. Dipper tries arching his head away, but Bill turns him back with a commanding grip on his chin. A thumb digs in, wedging his mouth open and pushing his teeth apart. The only choice is to open up or bite him, and it hurts - 

Dipper twists his head. Bill holds him still. The helpless ‘ah’ that comes out of his throat sounds strained and weak. Shit, he should just be quiet, it’s not like he’s not used to it at this point.

Continual pressure, Bill’s not giving in - so Dipper relents, letting Bill get his awful kicks out of the sight. Face burning, eyes shut. He’s never liked having to use his mouth since it happened, and Bill keeps staring when he should have only needed a glimpse to know what was wrong.

Bill holds him like that for a full ten seconds. Silent. Staring. 

Then he lets go. 

Dipper stumbles back, covering his mouth with both hands. Through the rapid blinking, he can see Bill take a deep breath in. 

And another one. 

Bill’s eye is twitching but otherwise, he’s dead-faced. No more smile, no easy stance. He’s tense and his fingers flex. His eye glows with a dull, burning light.

That’s… not a happy look. Dipper presses his back up against the wall. He blinks rapidly, trying to clear the heat from his own eyes.

When Bill punches the wall, it shatters as if hit with a sledgehammer.

Dipper drops. Legs folding, butt hitting the ground, and pressing his hands tight over his face. Shards of the wall tumble onto the carpet, and blink away into ash, as blue fire burns in the crater; drywall flaking away to reveal more of that same black stone.

“You have got to be kidding me! What kind of bullshit is THIS?” Bill’s voice rings through the room, loud and so angry. He starts pacing back and forth, throwing his arms in the air. “Bunch of half-witted jackasses ruining my stuff! And for what?” 

His voice turns strange and deep on some of the words, it resonates in the room, it makes the walls shake. 

Dipper shuffles up against the desk, taking shelter from the blooms of fire that seem to be popping up on the walls, and the floor, and - everywhere. It’s trailing along the baseboards, climbing up the corners.

Bill didn’t like that. He really, really didn’t like that. He’s angered his god again and it’s going to be bad.

“And in my name! Under my image! What a laugh!” Bill taps his foot against the carpet, teeth bared, eye glowing a bright, hot red - “They like blood rituals? Oh I’ll give ‘em a blood ritual.”

It feels like the entire building is moving by now, as Bill punctuates his statement with a kick. It tosses Dipper an inch off the ground, sending books and pens toppling to the floor. The door to the kitchen splinters into a thousand quietly screaming shards, before vanishing in acrid smoke. The heat’s rising, Bill’s way too close - and the light’s gone strange and shifting, casting stark shadows in dark black and bright light.

Dipper never should have mentioned anything. Never gone outside, never left his room, never spoken up, the last is a lesson he should know by now. Never should have thought that Bill didn’t have infinite wrath available, how stupid was he. 

All he can do now is try and make himself small. 

Tucking himself against the desk isn’t working but there’s nowhere else to go. Nothing in this room is safe, and it’s so hot - Dipper tries to breathe steadily but he can’t seem to get enough air.

“I never shoulda left that place intact in the first place!” Bill throws his head back, laughing to himself with a manic grin. “That’s the last time I let a bunch of stupid cultists live with their lungs on the inside.”

Bill punctuates his threat with another kick to the wall, which deforms like putty around him. Bill swears again. He yanks his leg, attempting to pull it out - and hey, the door’s open. Bill never shut it, he’s turned away for now and as long as he’s not looking - 

Dipper makes a break for it. 

Scrambling on hands and knees on too-hot carpet hurts, but the lower he keeps himself the less likely he’ll catch Bill’s eye again. A frantic couple of seconds later he’s out of the guest room, heart pounding, and he leaps to his feet and runs.

Can’t stay out here. Room’s too open, too many places to be cornered. Can’t be in the open or be seen, can’t remind Bill that the source of his anger is right here with him, so easy to catch and punish.

His brain catches up with him just as his foot hits stone. 

Dipper freezes in the doorway, breathing hard - but not stepping out. 

Okay, the exit opened easily enough, but he already knows that everything outside is terrifying and horrible and - he glances over his shoulder, at the blue light - it’s not much of an improvement. 

With a jerk, Dipper abandons that escape route, and turns back to face the penthouse. The light from the guest room is growing, Bill’s anger surging, and before he storms out Dipper needs a place to hide. 

There’s too much space under the piano. He’d never fit in the cupboards, or under the couch, and the fireplace is literally on fire - 

But there is one more open door that Dipper’s never been in before. 

Bill might not like it, but he also won’t look there first thing and it’s further away from him than where Dipper’s standing right now.

He’s through the door to Bill’s bedroom before he can stop himself -  no magical resistance, and no time to think about why - Dipper checks, but there’s no obvious exits, or closets, or even conveniently large wardrobes, why does - 

In the distance, Bill lets out a loud, angry incoherent sound. He hears the door slam, open or closed he can’t tell. 

As another rumble shakes the Fearamid,  Dipper ducks and slides underneath the too-large bed.

Thank hell the bed’s totally oversized; there’s enough space to crawl, so he shuffles up and back, towards the headboard. It’s a little dusty and there’s some clutter he can’t see, but all that is easily shoved aside until he curls up, tight, against the wall and under the frame.

That’s it. As far away as he can get.

Nothing left to do but wait.

It feels like a long time. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. There’s no way to tell, with the only frame of reference being his own heart pounding, too fast. 

The building has gone still again, which. Hopefully that’s a good sign. Maybe Bill’s calming down. Maybe he’s moved somewhere else. Maybe he noticed Dipper left, and he’s going to hunt him down and - 

But it might take him a while. This is a decent hiding space. The blankets draped back down after he slid under, covering any line of sight. And all the light. Everything’s dark, and the cloth and bed muffle all the distant sounds. 

Somewhere, Bill lets out a single, furious shout. Dipper winces, but he can’t make out the words anymore. It could be about anything.

After that, there’s silence again. 

Simply waiting means he could stalk in without any sign. He can be quiet, he’s basically a supernatural predator, and an ambush - he needs some warning. 

Dipper shuffles until he faces the wall, pressing his ear against the floor, listening for the approach - No footsteps. Yet. He can still feel his heart beating at a rapid pace, but he thinks he’s not panting anymore, so. That’s good. 

The quiet, and dark, and - for some, incredibly weird reason - the smell of the room itself all combine into a strangely calming effect. Not that it’s safe, because absolutely isn’t; there’s literally only a duvet keeping him out of sight.

It just. Feels a little safer. For stupid, back-of-the-brain reasons, totally irrational. Like an animal retreating into its burrow from a predator, pinging ancient instincts.

Which isn’t rational in the slightest. Not to mention the danger is Bill Cipher himself. Dipper’s putting his faith into a blanket keeping a monster from seeing him, and if it wasn’t so terrifyingly real it’d almost be funny.

This is the best he’s got for now. He’ll figure out the next step later. Whenever that is.

The one positive note is the yelling’s been done for a while now. Quiet is a welcome relief. Even if it’s temporary. 

Very temporary, as a sudden commotion starts up in the living room.

By the sound of it, Bill’s stomping around and making a clatter. He’s messing around with objects. Breaking something, maybe. Doesn’t matter, as long as he’s not breaking someone.

More thudding - faster, like a run - then Bill’s voice, loud and slightly breathless. “Hey! Pine Tree?” 

A long pause.

Dipper tucks his legs up against himself, wrapping his good arm around them. His other wrist throbs; he holds it close to his chest.

Swearing resumes, at a lower volume - then a rapid thump of a run, before an abrupt stop. 

Then Bill shouts again, echoing and distant, as if down a hallway. “Dipper!”

The name rings through Dipper’s nerves like a bell. It’s like being clanged against a metal pot, sudden and shocking, vibrations running through him. He clasps his arm tighter around his legs, and shuts his eyes.

It- maybe that was less angry? Bill, wondering where he went. Dipper’s not in trouble. He shouldn’t be in trouble. It wouldn’t be fair, it wasn’t fair before and it wouldn’t be now, he was just doing what he was told this time - and there’s no way to get out of here. There’s nowhere else to go.

Dipper pushes his nose into his sleeve, face against the fabric. 

It’s too much to hope that Bill’s not upset - but he might have taken off somewhere. Found someone else to take his anger out on. A more deserving target.

He won’t be mad forever. Right?. His emotions are flighty, and he’s easier-going than the sermons made him seem. Given enough time, maybe Dipper can uncurl himself from this place, sneak back to the probably-ruined guestroom, and -

Footsteps, again. Close. 

Dipper jerks his head up from the floor and he can still hear them, even through the cover of the bed and blanket.

Bill’s not just back, he’s in the room with him. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did he take off, that was the worst thing he could ever have done. The eye of God is always watching, witnessing everything Dipper does. 

He can run, and he can hide, but in the end he will always face judgment.

He claps a hand over his mouth and nose. Holds his breath. A few more seconds. A minute. Every moment he can get is precious.

Bill’s shoes on the carpet make a loud, distinctive thump. The sound heads towards the fireplace of the room - then pauses, and turns back to the door. A quick, repetitive path, back and forth. Not near the bed, yet. Bill’s muttering something under his breath that’s too quiet to make out, staying in the room, not leaving, until Dipper’s lungs burn with the effort to keep still. Keep silent.

“Fuck!” Something slams into the bed, a thump on the mattress that sends the frame shaking. Despite all his effort, some air escapes Dipper’s lungs through his nose with a short, high sound. He clamps his fingers over it, but it’s too late. 

Silence. 

Bill goes still. He’s next to the bed. But he’s not setting everything under the bed aflame, or swearing or yelling anymore. Dipper holds his breath again, daring to hope-

“Aha!” The blankets whip up, letting all the light in - and showing Bill’s huge, sharp teeth bared in a grin. “There you are!” 

Dipper turns away. He faces the back wall, he lowers his head.

“I thought you almost ran out again for a sec!” A low whistle. “Be a real shame if you got devoured, kid. I’ve barely even started with you!” There’s a shuffle, like Bill - the god - himself might actually be kneeling, if only to get a better look. “C’mere.”

Dipper shakes his head. Behind him, he hears Bill let out a displeased grunt.

No, he’s not coming out. Not for this. Not even if Bill’s mad about it. 

There's punishment waiting, once he emerges. Dipper can handle it. He has before.

But he will not go willingly. He never has. 

Obedience truly offers no protection. Bill asked Dipper to tell him. Dipper did as he was told for once. Getting hurt for it is just unfair. Hi only did what he thought was right. That's all he's ever done, no matter what anyone else says, and even if some of it was blasphemous then it sure as hell wasn't any of Bill’s business. He doesn’t even know what was said. 

If Bill wants to make a big, agonizing show out of something that upset him, then whatever. He can't be stopped. 

But he doesn’t get to pretend it's anything but cruel. 

He'll have to drag Dipper out.

Another grunt behind him, and the shuffle of something on carpet. Dipper hears it come closer, then the soft brush of something on his back - he flinches. 

“Oh, for-” A heavy sigh, then a retreating scuffle. Bill mutters something under his breath, then, “Under the bed is where monsters live, sapling. By all rights I should join you! Might wanna get outta the way first.”

Dipper doesn’t move, or respond. He remains still, in the desperate hope that Bill will find it boring enough to leave him be.

There’s a pause. A long one, at that.

The silence lingers, for three seconds. Then five. Ten. 

“Okay! Okay, I get it.” Bill says. His tone is calmer, though more sarcastic than soothing. “So the little scene earlier got you freaked out. It’d be a pretty poor showing on my part if I didn’t inspire terror! But none of that was about you, kid.” A patting sound, like a palm on carpet. “You’re fine! No cowering needed!”

Yeah, right. Dipper almost rolls his eyes. 

Oh, no, of course he’s not in trouble. He just needs to come out so they can have a little ‘talk’, or participate in this one little ‘ritual’. With commentary that never once mentions his name, but says it louder than any words. 

It wasn’t true then, and isn’t true now. One of Bill’s major domains is deception, and in plain terms -  blasphemous ones - that makes him a big fat liar.

Dipper tucks his chin down further. Bill missed getting hold of his shirt earlier, so he’s sure as hell not offering his hair as purchase. If he wants to wreak vengeance, he better break down the bed or scoot back under.

Either way, Dipper gets the small satisfaction of making him work for it. It’ll almost be worth what follows.

“Seriously!” Bill says, indignant this time. “Cross my heart and hope to rot in a grave, you’re not the guy in trouble.” He waits a beat, then another - then an annoyed groan, as his lies have no effect. “Always a friggin’ skeptic, huh.”

He pauses, then, “What do you want, kid? A bribe, maybe? Do I gotta blackmail you outta there?” A hum of thought. “Okay, both! If you get outta there, I won’t read your dumb journal and will get you something reaaally nice.”

Let him talk all he wants. It doesn’t mean anything. 

“You gotta come out eventually, y’know.” Bill continues. Dipper tries to tune out his voice, but Bill’s very hard to ignore. “You can’t live there forever!”

It’s true, Dipper can’t. At some point, he’s going to need water, or to eat, or use the bathroom. All kinds of mortal human necessities. 

But until then, he can put off the consequences. Annoying Bill is just a bonus. 

Another, louder groan, and then Dipper hears Bill’s shoes on the carpet again. He stands by the bed for a moment, then goes back to tracing the same pacing path, back and forth. Not bored enough to leave, not annoyed enough to pursue. Even the slight reprieve is a surprising relief. 

Bill's also muttering to himself again. Mostly swearing, by the sound of it, but Dipper thinks he hears the word ‘stubborn’. Which tracks.

How long will it take before Bill gives up? Will he give up? Dipper’s kept his interactions with him to a minimum; he doesn’t know how much patience Bill has. Or how long it’ll last until the fire blooms under the already stifling bedframe, heat building -

“Ha!” Bill snaps his fingers. Chuckling, too, like he’s just had a great idea. 

Okay. Not that long, then. 

Before he can curl up even tighter in the cramped space, he hears Bill’s thudding footsteps - 

Running out of the room?

Dipper waits for a moment. He squirms around enough to tilt his head, checking the space left from Bill raising the blankets. Nothing there.

It’s too much to hope that Bill’s truly gone. He’ll be back. By his exclamation and sudden exit, he’s preparing for some dubiously good idea. He’s going to…

To… 

Something.

For a moment, Dipper almost wishes he had hung out with Bill more. Talked to him, or, well. Wrote something to him. Maybe then he’d have a better idea of what’s going on in that insane, convoluted head of his. It’s not burning Dipper out, apparently, or convincing him through lies. But that just leaves a giant blank space he can’t fill in with useful information.

It barely takes a minute before the sound of Bill storming back in breaks his train of thought. 

Since Dipper knows a scheme is being pulled, he’s sorta prepared. He hopes it won’t hurt, or not hurt too badly.

“Alright.” Bill returns to his previous position, standing by the bed. His breathing has slightly picked up, like he ran all the way somewhere and back. “How about this, then?”

Dipper doesn’t respond. He can tell Bill’s getting back down to peek under the bed; the shadows show it, there’s a scuffle on carpet. 

Then, Bill’s voice. Higher pitched, somewhere in the range of cloying and deeply annoying. “What’s wrong, Pine Tree?”

What.

“I heard that someone is reaaaal upset!” Bill continues, with the same godawful tone. “Why don’t you come out and have a big cuddle with your-” A pause, a quick ‘eugh’ - “Squishy little friend! Mini-Bill!”

Okay, what.

Dipper turns away from the wall out of sheer morbid curiosity. 

The first thing he catches is Bill - looking annoyed, until he sees Dipper turn to look and instantly brightens. He’s crouched by the bed, looking sideways under the frame, one arm extended, and he’s wiggling the stupid Bill plush.

Dipper stares at it. Bill jiggles mini-him some more, making the black legs and arms flop around like the most noodly of puppets. 

Bill dashed off like something was urgent, but it was really only just across the penthouse. Then he dug that out from under Dipper’s pillow, and ran back like he’d just had an amazing idea. 

It’s so…

Dumb.

With a playful whistle. Bill makes the puppet’s arms rise up like it’s offering a hug, clapping its little hands together.

In fact, Bill Cipher - is a goddamn idiot.

It’s the same phrase that always occupies a part of Dipper’s brain, only this time instead of the shame, the self-recrimination, and the memory of pain - he kinda feels like he wants to laugh. 

God. That’s. Vindication, isn’t it. Even while he’s in danger, it feels really, really good.

Bill catches him watching, and all his smugness returns in a rush. “Ha! Knew this would work.” He says - in his normal tone, thank fuck. “Your - ugh - little friend is waiting, kid! Come give ‘em a kiss!”

Alright, that’s enough. 

Dipper makes a swipe for the plushie, but Bill’s quicker on the draw and he misses by inches. That also brought him perilously close to Bill-range - he retreats before Bill can swipe right back.

Too bad. He’s not getting out of here yet. Being under the bed has been safe, so far. He can’t give that up. 

Bill groans, slumping down onto the carpet. He lies on his side, turning Mini-Bill around to glare like somehow it’s the reason Dipper didn’t give in. 

“Fine. Fine! Take your dumb toy, if he makes you feel so much better,” Bill says, mockingly. With a wordless sneer, he flings the plush in Dipper’s direction and flops down on his back. “He’s stupid anyway.”

Mini-Bill lands just far enough away that Dipper has to shuffle forward to grab it. Bill doesn’t move from where he’s lying, giving Dipper enough time to scoot back against the wall and bring it to his chest, holding tight. 

Yes, it’s dumb that Bill got this. Yes, it’s also dumb that Dipper’s glad he got it, and he knows it’s totally stupid, but having the one soft thing in his life in his arms again does make him feel better.

He checks Mini-Bill - still intact, undamaged - then back at the regular-sized version.

Bill lets out a derisive snort, but doesn’t speak. He folds his arms over his chest.

That… was nothing like Dipper expected.

That can’t have been his whole plan. Right? There’s another plot. Deception that he hasn’t seen yet. 

On the carpet, Bill lies flat on his back. He’s glaring at the ceiling. One finger taps an impatient beat on his bicep. And while there’s no smile on his face, he doesn’t look angry, exactly, even though his brow is furrowed.  It takes a second for Dipper to parse.

Bill. Actually looks…

Tired.

Not physically, of course, there’s no sweat on him. Simply like he’s run out of energy, and needs a moment to recharge. Like someone poked a pin in an inflatable plan, one he put a lot of work into, and now he needs a minute to sulk.

Which means he’s not up to anything just yet. 

Dipper squeezes Mini-Bill a few times. It’s soft and clean. A quick check proves it doesn’t even smell like smoke from all the burning; the guest room must be pretty intact. 

After a moment, he wriggles onto his stomach, plushie tucked between his shoulder and ear. 

But he slows down, and stops. Bill’s eye is on him again, half-lidded. Contemplative.

 “What a shame. My human’s decided to dwell with the dust bunnies.” Bill lays the back of a hand dramatically against his forehead, though his eye stays firmly on Dipper. “And here I was, just about to tell ‘em the real reason he’s here.” The barest flicker of a grin, quickly repressed. “Guess he’ll never learn it now!”

Okay, that's a temptation. Dipper glares, but it only makes Bill’s smile creep into a grin. 

And… fine. It’s effective, too. 

Whatever. Bill was right, earlier. Dipper really can’t stay under the bed forever. It’s cramped and dark and uncomfortably tight. It’s only been about half an hour and parts of him are already sore.

And if he’s got to get out, then now’s as good a time as any. 

He rolls onto his stomach, and inches forward, before pausing with a jolt as Bill scrambles up to a sitting position. But he doesn’t go for a grab. He just…  watches, with a weird amount of anticipation. When he sees Dipper hesitate, he starts patting his knees. 

Great, Bill’s not just stupid, he’s a dork. 

Yet another difference from doctrine. The list is getting really long - but Dipper’s okay with that. 

It could totally be worse. Way worse.

Crawling his way out is way harder than it was getting in. Without the energy of panic, it’s kind of a pain in the ass. Hiding in a barely accessible place seemed like a great idea until he had to get himself out.

It’s a far less eventful exit than he pictured. More awkward than anything. Also, the sideboard is lower than the space under the bed, and Dipper hits his head on it with a - well, he can’t swear. But he wants to. 

“Having trouble, kid?” Bill says, sounding amused. He gets to his feet, grinning wide. “No problem. Lemme get that for ya!” And snaps his fingers.

Light floods over Dipper. So does space, in an alarming amount. 

He glances around, where there’s no frame or legs or mattress or - where the hell did the bed go?

“Up you go!” Bill takes hold of Dipper’s arms, pulling him to his feet. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Dipper looks behind him - no, the bed wasn’t turned over, or anything. He can’t see a blanket or a shred of wood around. But if Bill he can make things out of nowhere, he can get rid of them too, and -

He. Probably could have done this the entire time. 

“Hey,” Bill says. He catches Dipper’s attention again with a little shake, holding onto his upper arms. “Listen up, ‘cause you weren’t earlier - You aren’t the guy I was mad at, kid.”

A brief, hesitant nod. Yeah. Okay. 

By now Dipper’s pretty sure that’s the case, or everything else wouldn’t make sense. But the way he - with the punching, and the yelling, the distorted reality -

“No, really! I wanted you in mint condition, sapling. I’m mad at whatever empty-headed asshole decided they should perform an objectively stupid surgery! ” His smile flickers into a grimace, sharp teeth very white in his face. “Someone made a real dumb call.”

On that, they can agree. Dipper nods, one sharp motion. He sniffs, and swallows.

Bill’s smile is back, but not the standard version. This is a thin thing, with tension around his eye. 

Though Dipper hasn’t been here long, he has learned a few things. One of them is how to read the variations of ‘happy’ that Bill puts on. It’s a clear cover for other emotions, running just below the surface

Right now, Bill’s still mad. He’s furious.

But like he said - it’s not at Dipper. 

This is anger with no immediate outlet, burning underneath his skin. His eye is focused elsewhere, off into the distance over Dipper’s left shoulder, like he can see the person he wants dead but just can’t reach them. Yet.

And Dipper knows exactly how that feels. For exactly the same reason.

There’s something they can both agree on. It was totally bullshit. Unfair and cruel and - and Bill himself had nothing to do with it, he’d never have ordered it done. Maybe Bill would never have said Dipper deserved to - 

Dipper takes another, longer, sniff. Clears his throat, blinking rapidly. No, can’t - not the time for that. Dwell on it later, not in front of a friggin’ god.

Bill clears his throat, smile shifting ever so slightly. “Hey hey hey! Easy, there.” He winks, sliding his hands up to pat Dipper’s shoulders. “I, for one, think a little vengeance is in order. And since it was your tongue, I’ll even let you pick the method! How’s that sound?”

That sounds… violent. Gory and chaotic and -  knowing Bill - filled with maniacal laughter.

Some deep part of Dipper even likes the idea, but he knows couldn’t go through with it. Even thinking about it makes him feel so, so tired. And awful. Pre-grossed out by the blood. There’s been too much of that already. Still, he nods again, which makes Bill cheer up. The prospect of future chaos, whenever that may be. 

Though if Bill tries following up on that, it’ll be pretty hard to pull off. The culprit was last seen dead on the steps of the altar.

“Welp!” Bill claps his hands together. “Can’t say this was a total shitshow! I learned a lot about you today.” He cocks his head to one side. “More than I thought I would.”

A dismissal. According to Bill, everything’s wrapped up. 

As he takes a step back, Dipper grabs him by his shirt. It stops him right in his tracks. For a single, stuttering heartbeat, Dipper thinks he’s fucked up, again. 

“Oh? Not done with me yet, are ya?” Bill purrs, clearly delighted. He spreads his arms wide. “What’s up, sapling? Miss me already?” He ruffles Dipper’s hair in a rough, annoying way. “I haven’t even gone anywhere!”

No, that’s not it. Dipper frowns, and shakes his head. Though it doesn’t dislodge Bill’s hand, he ignores it

There’s a lot of things Dipper doesn’t get about this place. How it works. Where, exactly, the hell he is. But ever since he was dragged from reality and brought to a weird god’s realm, he’s mostly wondered why. 

Why him. Why then, why bring him here in the first place, why stitch him up and feed and house him. Why not earlier, damn it. 

And Bill just beckoned him out with a clear, though indirect, offer. 

He doesn’t get to back out of it that easily.

“Do me a favor, will ya?” Bill says, slow. He moves in fast enough that Dipper has to back up this time. 

Wow, they’re, uh. Really close now. Dipper has a close-up view of Bill’s collar, before a touch on his chin lifts his head. 

“If you’re gonna invade my room, sapling.” There’s a twinkle in Bill’s eye. “You should get in the bed instead of under it.”

What, like. Hide under the blankets? Literally, next time? Dipper guesses that makes… some kind of sense. In a nightmare realm, made of thoughts. Shifting spaces, lingering ideas - maybe it actually does protect you from monsters. That’d be strange, but…

Damn it, this place better not run on metaphors, or that’s going to be really annoying to parse.

Also, Bill’s giving him a weird look. He stares forward, lips tucked in, like he didn’t say what he meant to, or a great line didn’t land.

Wait. Was that a joke? Weird god-demon humor? A reference? It could - no, he’s getting distracted. Letting Bill change the subject lets him get away without answering. He gives Bill’s shirt another tug, insistent.

“What’s up?”

Oh, for - Maybe Bill should put some of that infinite knowledge towards remembering what he said three minutes ago. 

Dipper holds his hand out flat, scribbling an invisible pen on his palm. Thankfully Bill gets that hint; another board snaps into existence, and Dipper takes it not very gently from his hold.

It only takes a second to write it out, though Bill keeps trying to lean over the board for a peek. 

‘Why am I here?’

“Oh, that.” Bill says airly, looking up and to the side. He’s avoiding Dipper’s gaze. “Y’know. Reasons.”

Dipper takes a deep breath, and lets it out. Okay. Secrets. Another of Bill’s domains, he gets that, but still. He underlines the question, twice. 

“Boy, you’re real curious arent’cha?”

Yes, he is. How much more obvious could it be? Dipper taps the end of the marker on the board - then sighs, and writes a quick addition. ‘Please’. 

“How polite!” Bill’s smile turns mocking, squeezing Dipper’s shoulders. “Wanna add a ‘pretty’ to that?”

That- Fine. Dipper grits his teeth. After the day he’s had, he can handle one last awful thing. For answers.

The marker smudges from the pressure as Dipper painstakingly scrawls down the word.

“Hm.” Bill’s eye narrows as he hums in thought, He rubs his chin, head tilting to the side. Taking his damn time, too, as he looks Dipper over like he’s evaluating a rather expensive purchase.

It never hurts to look presentable in front of a deity, when it comes to something important. The best he can do is stand up straight, and look attentive. Bill shouldn’t mind. He should just spit it out already.

“The reason you’re here, mortal…” Bill says, drawing the sentence out, word by word. He smiles, something slow and sharp, as his thumb strokes over Dipper’s cheek - then pinches it. “Is for me to know, and you to wonder about!” 

What? 

Fucking what?

As Bill draws back, Dipper’s mouth works, no sound coming out. Another yank on Bill’s shirt does nothing except make him laugh. 

It’s not funny. It’s important, it’s - Heat rises into Dipper’s face. His shoulders inch up towards his ears.

Bill can’t just do that. Not after today. Not after everything Dipper’s been through, the demons, the tantrum, the stupid talk to get him out of the bed. The totally humiliating plea. Dangling this in front of him, the reason he’s been kidnapped and confused and basically alone this whole time, then taking it back? 

Nothing ever goes right for Dipper when it comes to his awful god, and - and the laughter stings. Embarrassment burns and rises on the coattails of all the other bullshit Dipper’s dealt with today; there’s heat in his chest and a knot in his stomach. 

That’s not what he said. It’s not fair.

He can’t just do that. 

“Yep! You’re not getting that one outta me. Nice try, though.” Bill taps his finger against the end of Dipper’s nose, making him flinch. “You’re never gonna gue-”

Rational thought doesn’t have time to catch up before Dipper’s fist meets Bill’s face. 

It lands, painfully, in the juncture of his head and neck. With more of a thud than a crack - but it does jerk Bill’s head to the side, and that’s a minor win.

Or would, be, if it had the right effect. 

Bill looks surprised and totally unhurt, while Dipper’s knuckles definitely sting from the contact. He shakes them to get some feeling back. What the hell, how durable is that bastard - 

His brain, screaming from the background, kicks in again. 

Dipper grips his hand tight as shame rising higher in his chest, a burning tide. It feels like he’ll choke on it.

Stupid, stupid stupid. How could Dipper be this dumb, he’s in the realm of a god, helpless, powerless, at the mercy of his whims  - and if Bill wasn’t mad before then he’s definitely mad now. 

God, this always happens, Dipper does something stupid, he stupidly defies god’s will, and there’s always consequences, no matter how he fights.

He looks up at Bill, chest heaving. Bill looks right back, rubbing his jaw - and starting to smile, wide. Showing those dangerous, predatory teeth.

No way to get out of here. Leaving the penthouse means other dangers, and leaving the realm is impossible. Even if he could, Bill’s got a memory a million years long, and he put a knife in the priest’s chest so casually that it was like putting it back in a drawer.

But Dipper can avoid him, for a bit. Along with all other awful things he found out today, he learned that fact.

He turns on his heel, ready to make his second run of the day.

It fails almost instantly.

One step into his retreat, Bill seizes him by the waist and drags him in, too quick by far. Strong, too; kicking out doesn’t work, hitting him again doesn’t work, he struggles against the tight grip and it only makes Bill let out a terrible, cackling laugh. 

Arms come around him, then, drawing him in too close to even hit the bastard anymore, or struggle effectively. They squeeze so tight it’s nearly hard to breathe. Dipper feels a warm grip on the back of his neck, firm and relentless. 

God. He never stood a chance against Bill, did he. Too strong, too quick. Too weird to understand, or placate. Nothing was going to be clear, or forthright, or helpful or safe. 

Escaping the cult didn’t matter, all of Bill’s previous patience didn’t matter, things are alway going to turn against him and ruin his day and his life. It doesn’t matter where Dipper is, it’s always going to be like this. 

It was never going to be okay. 

The strangled noise that escapes his throat sounds so much worse than a normal person’s. A wordless, helpless sound he can’t stop, there’s too much frustration and anger and sheer exhaustion, and Bill’s holding him really right, up against his chest. Dipper headbutts his shoulder in one last attempt at escape, then just. Leaves it there. 

Bill can retaliate whenever he wants. Dipper can’t fight right now, he just - He needs a minute.

The minute lasts. And passes. 

Also, Bill’s shirt is really soft, so it doesn’t hurt when he rubs his face against it. Fuck, and now he’s getting it wet -  but actually, fuck Bill, he’s the one who caused all of this. 

Absolutely everything is Bill Cipher’s fault, even if indirectly. Dipper hiccups, then wipes his nose on the soft cloth. 

It’s all soggy and gross now, he screwed up again - 

But no, Bill deserves it. He hopes it sucks for Bill as much as it does for him, trying to stop his chest from heaving. Bill could have let him go and avoided this, but no, he’s stuck in his arms. Let that asshole get all damp. 

At some point Dipper started clinging back, but that’s only because he couldn’t go anywhere else. Bill hasn’t relented even in the slightest, this entire time. He’s stroking a palm up and down Dipper’s back in a slow, warm rhythm because he’s super goddamn weird. 

Much like living under the bed, this, too, can’t last forever. 

Eventually Dipper sighs. The breath is shaky. Still more solid. He doesn’t have any more to let out.

He’s. Still pretty embarrassed, but he can’t see Bill’s face and he’s not dead. Two okay points in what’s otherwise been… not the worst day of Dipper’s life. But maybe in the top ten.

The hand playing with the hair at the back of his neck slows. Then it strokes through his hair again, and down. Bill pats him between the shoulders, letting out a low sigh. 

“Aw, look at you. All torn up ‘cause the answer wasn’t handed to ya on a silver platter.” Bill pats his back a couple more times. “Man, are you full of fluids!”

A little squirming manages to free Dipper from Bill, at least by a few inches. Bill gives him a once-over, then pushes a handkerchief into his face. 

It’s too late to pretend none of that happened. Or cover up, for dignity’s sake. Or back up, for that matter. With his cover totally blown, Dipper takes the damn thing so he can stop ruining Bill’s shirt, and wipes his face.

“Tell ya what. You had yourself a big day, and your poor human brain’s probably way too overwhelmed to be of use, sooooo…” Bill says, drawing out the word slowly. Smug, again, despite his snotty shoulder and too-close human. “I guess I can part with one hint.”

Dipper looks up. Bill meets his gaze with a grin, totally unbothered. Oddly unbothered.

It’s… it’s like he truly doesn’t mind that his shirt is ruined because some random human’s having a fit, or that he’s been bothered by pointless crap ruining his evening. Bill looks…

Well, he’s… not amused, exactly. Something less snide, and downright impossible to place.

“Truth is…” Bill leans in close, and winks. “You’re special, sapling.” He lingers for a moment - then squeezes Dipper again, slightly more gentle. “Have fun working out what that entails.”

Special. 

Sure, it’s a hint. One that’s sorta true. With everything else that’s happened, denying it outright would throw all of the other hints out with the bathwater. But…

Dipper, of all people. Special. 

It’s one hell of a word choice - and it’s totally, classically Bill. 

With just one word, Bill implied a secret with deep importance. Saying that, deep down, Dipper has something nobody else does. 

Because of course he did. It’s about the allure. 

Everyone wants to be important. Being important to a god, triply so. It’s the carrot at the end of a long, long stick. A temptation. Doesn’t Dipper want to know why he’s ‘special’? Wouldn’t it be cool if he was? The intrigue is exactly why it’s so dangerous.

His first instinct was right. Bill is an asshole. And a big fat liar. 

Dipper blows his nose into the handkerchief, sniffing again. Looking awed at the ‘reveal’ would be the right response, but he’s too tired to play along. And by the look of it, Bill doesn’t mind that either. 

“Gross,” Bill says, but his smile doesn’t alter a fraction. Dipper can’t see any other emotion behind it, for once. He reaches up, thumb smoothing some hair behind his ear, before his arm slips around Dipper’s waist. “No amount of special stops you from being organic, unfortunately.”

Yet more Bill, revealed. A liar, an asshole - and definitely the type of guy who can’t leave an insouciant comment unsaid. It’s completely unsurprising. 

Even though he doesn’t need to, Dipper blows his nose again, just to watch Bill make a face. He rubs at his eyes, trying to dispel some of the lingering heat. 

It doesn’t matter though, Dipper guesses. Bill’s always going to be really goddamned weird and erratic and insane. A person that no amount of learning enables you to entirely predict.

He’s just going to have to work around it. Somehow.

With a smile, Bill starts up his slow petting again. His arms are warm, and that inhuman strength isn’t so bad when it’s just. Holding. 

It’s been a long time - or, how long has it been? Years, maybe… god, Dipper can’t remember the last time someone just- 

He takes a slow, shuddering breath. Bill goes very still for a moment, then he squeezes Dipper around the back, with both arms. Not hard, just tight enough to be kind of…

Wow. Okay.

This is a hug. Bill might lie about it later, but there’s literally no other word for it. 

Dipper turns to rest his forehead on Bill’s dry shoulder, and listens to him chuckle. He can feel his chest moving under his hand, and the steady beat of an inhuman heart. 

There’s a secret here. One about Dipper, and what he means. Bill’s partially revealed it, and he wants Dipper to work out the rest. Best thing to do would be to get on that immediately.

But he’ll have time for that later. 

He can stay here for a bit. Until Bill gets bored with this part too. 

Dipper lets out a sigh, and lets himself relax. He feels the slow stroke start up on his back again, and a low contented hum. This warm body, firm under his arms. 

Even if it’s a lie, it makes Dipper feel like he’s special. Just for a moment. 

#This is a long one jsyk #writing is hard #I don't have any fun tags on these long posts because spend all my energy making them #I am in need of a nap #Time to grab a cat and cuddle 'em while I rest #I'm also making chili and it smells super good right now

[princesssdark88]

Ateez Like Boyfriends: Waking up in bed ♡

♡ Lembrando a todos que este post é meramente ilustrativo, e feito apenas para divertimento dos fãs.

♡ Reminding everyone that this post is merely illustrative, and made just for the amusement of fans.

♡ Thank you to everyone who voted, I hope you enjoy it! ♡

Yeosang

Sempre vai fica com pena de acorda você, caso ele acorde primeiro. Então ou vai ficar olhando você dormir, ou vai apoia a cabeça nas suas costas ou no seu peito e ficar assim até você acorda.

Acorda já querendo se aconchegar em você parecendo um gato, se esfregando com o rosto no seu corpo.

Gosta de fica abraçadinho sentindo seu cheiro.

"Bom dia princesa, hora de acorda! Como pode você ser tão linda acordando?".

Gosta de fazer trilhas de beijinhos.

Gosta quando você fica esfregando as pernas nele.

Fica fazendo carinho no seu rosto e de ficar namorando enquanto ficam mexendo no cabelo um do outro.

Quando pensar em levantar, ele vai levanta junto para te envolver num abraço e te carrega até o banheiro.

-------------------------------- ♡ -----------------------------------------

He'll always feel sorry for waking you up if he wakes up first. So it's either going to watch you sleep, or it's going to rest its head on your back or on your chest and stay that way until you wake up.

He wakes up already wanting to snuggle up to you looking like a cat, rubbing his face on your body.

He likes to cuddle up and smell it.

"Good morning princess, time to wake up! How can you be so beautiful waking up?"

Likes to go on kiss trails.

Likes it when you keep rubbing your legs on it.

Keeps stroking your face and making out while you mess with each other's hair.

When you think about getting up, he'll get up with you to wrap you in a hug and carry you to the bathroom.

Mingi

Assim que abrir os olhos vai te puxar pra perto, ele necessita do seu corpo colado nele pra acorda bem.

Vai fica agarrando seu corpo enquanto te beija dando bom dia.

Vai fazer cara de manhoso, gemendo e pedindo pra vocês transarem depois de acorda.

"Bom dia meu amor, você dormiu bem? Eu amo acorda com você!".

Adora quando você acorda ele com beijinhos no pescoço, ou passando a mão na nuca dele e depois pelo cabelo dele.

Ele ama passa a mão por baixo da sua blusa pra brinca com seus seios, e ficar segurando seu cabelo pro alto beijando seu pescoço, seu orelha descendo pela lateral do seu rosto até chega na sua bochecha e depois na sua boca.

Não vai quere sair da cama, vai tenta te prende aproveitando a altura dele.

Você e ele adoram dar mordidinhas um no outro e ficar brincando disso enquanto ficam na cama.

-------------------------------- ♡ -----------------------------------------

As soon as he opens his eyes he will pull you close, he needs your body glued to him to wake up well.

He'll be grabbing your body while kissing you good morning.

He'll make a sly face, moaning and asking you to after he wakes up.

"Good morning my love, did you sleep well? I love wakes up with you!"

He loves it when you wake him up with kisses on his neck, or running your hand over the back of his neck and then through his hair.

He loves to put his hand under your blouse to play with your breasts, and keep holding your hair up kissing your neck, his ear going down the side of your face to your cheek and then your mouth.

He won't want to get out of bed, he'll try to trap you by taking advantage of his height.

You and he love to nibble on each other and play around with it while stay in bed.

San

Tal qual um panda, ele simplesmente vai acorda todo dia grudado em você.

Vai ficar choramingando cada vez que você falar que precisa levanta: "Levanta para quê se podemos ficar o dia todo aqui!".

Ama quando você acorda e coloca a cabeça no peito dele pra ele fica fazendo carinho em você.

Gosta quando você dá beijinho ao longo do rosto dele, principalmente se isso significar você estar montada nele, o que deixa ele excitado sempre.

Gosta de sentir o seu cheiro, fica colocando o rosto entre seu cabelo para cheira sua nuca e depois ir descendo cheirando pelo seu corpo até deixar você toda arrepiada.

Ele ama sentir seus dedos passando pelas costas dele.

Adora um sexo matinal, principalmente se isso envolver carícias de ambos.

Gosta de fica com o corpo sobre você, te prendendo na cama para impedir você de sair, o que vai leva vocês a ficarem um tempão brincando de gato e rato tentando escapar um do outro.

Quando você levanta, fica todo manhoso, faz beicinho e diz que se você não volta pra cama vai te busca e te trazer de volta.

-------------------------------- ♡ -----------------------------------------

Just like a panda, he just wakes up every day glued to you.

He'll be whining every time you say you need to get up: "Get up for what? if we can stay here all day!"

He loves it when you wake up and put your head on his chest so he keeps petting you.

He likes it when you kiss him over the cheek, especially if it means you're riding him, which makes him all the time.

He likes to smell you, he keeps putting his face between your hair to smell the back of your neck and then goes down smelling your body until he makes you shiver all over.

He loves to feel your fingers running down his back.

Loves morning sex, especially if it involves caresses from both of you.

He likes to keep his body on top of you, pinning you to the bed to prevent you from leaving, which will lead to you spending a lot of time playing cat and mouse trying to escape from each other.

When you get up, you get all sly, pout, and say that if you don't go back to bed he'll pick you up and bring you back.

Seonghwa

Vai fica olhando você acorda com os olhinhos assim 🥺

Quando você acordar e ficar agarradinha nele, ele vai fica todo manhoso, passando a mão no seu cabelo e dizendo "bom dia meu amor, você dormiu bem? É tão bom acorda do seu ladinho..."

Vai dar beijinhos na sua cabeça e ir descendo até chegar na sua boca.

Ama fica agarradinho com você, gosta quando você se prende nele com as pernas.

Fica sorrindo quando você fica mexendo no cabelo dele e dizendo que ele é muito lindo mesmo quando acorda.

Ama fingir que vai morder partes do seu corpo só pra você fica dizendo que ele não pode e fingir que tá braba, mas quando é sua bunda ele morde de verdade.

Você ama beija o pescoço dele e ver ele fica arrepiado.

Vai aproveita sempre pra te prende com os braços e dizer que você só pode levanta depois dele ganha mais um beijo.

Ama fica namorando com o corpo sobre o seu e de segura suas pernas na cintura dele para fica fazendo carinho enquanto te beija.

Gosta de coloca a cabeça nos seu seios pra recebe cafuné enquanto fica agarrado na sua cintura.

-------------------------------- ♡ -----------------------------------------

He'll be watching, you wake up with your little eyes like this 🥺

When you wake up and cuddle with him, he'll get all sly, running his hand through your hair and saying "good morning my love, did you sleep well? It's so good, wake up next to you…"

It'll kiss your head and work its way down until it reaches your mouth

Loves to cling to you, likes it when you hold on to it with your legs.

He keeps smiling when you keep touching his hair and telling him that he is very beautiful even when he wakes up.

He loves to pretend he's going to bite parts of your body just for you and keeps telling him he can't and pretending he's mad, but when it's your ass he really bites.

You love kiss his neck and see him get goosebumps.

He will always take the opportunity to hold you with his arms and say that you can only get up after him get another kiss.

He loves to be in love with his body on top of yours and holds your legs around his waist to caress you while kissing you.

He likes to put her head on her breasts to get caressed while clinging to her waist.

Hongjoong

"Bom dia" acompanhado de um sorrisão.

Vai fica agarradinho em você com o rosto enfiado quase embaixo do seu braço (Ama quando você faz o mesmo com ele).

Ama ficar dando beijinhos enquanto fica falando tipo "O que 😘 vamos 😘 tomar 😘 de café 😘 da manhã 😘?"

Vai fica passando a mão no cabelo todo bagunçando, e você vai ri da cara dele e ajuda ele a bagunça mais, e dizer que ele é lindo, o que vai fazer ele ficar todo bobo.

Vai fica deitado com o braço estendido dizendo "não vaiiiii, fica aquiiiii" fazendo carinha de triste.

Se você volta para um beijinho, vai te segura de novo na cama, se não volta, vai corre atrás de você até ganha um beijo.

Gosta de ter você nos braços dele, e de fica beijando seu pescoço.

As vezes gosta de te dar prazer pela manhã, também gosta quando você pergunta se ele gostaria que você desse prazer pra ele pra acorda mais relaxado.

Depois de ficarem namorando na cama, te chama pra toma banho com ele.

-------------------------------- ♡ -----------------------------------------

"Good morning" accompanied by a smile.

he'll cling to you with his face tucked almost under your arm (Loves it when you do the same to him).

Do you love kissing while talking like "What 😘 are we going 😘 to have 😘 for breakfast 😘 ?"

He'll keep running his hand through his hair all messed up and you'll laugh at his face and help him mess up more and tell him he's beautiful which will make him look all silly.

He will lie down with his arm outstretched saying "don't gooooo, stay hereeeee" making a sad face.

If you come back for a kiss he'll hold you back in bed, if he doesn't come back he'll run after you until he gets a kiss.

He likes to hold you in his arms, and he kisses your neck.

Sometimes he likes to give you pleasure in the morning, he also likes it when you ask him if he would like you to give him pleasure so he wakes up more relaxed.

After y'all be in love in bed, he asks you to take a shower with him.

Jongho

Não vai consegui levanta pois ele não vai deixa.

Vocês sempre ficam meia hora namorando na cama até decidirem levanta de verdade.

"Você me ama? Quanto você me ama? Só isso? Peraí..." Dependendo da quantidade de amor que você disser, ele vai te fazer cócegas e só vai para quando você disser que ama ele 100%.

Ficam brincando de luta prendendo um ao outro com as pernas.

Ele ama quando você monta nele e fica enchendo ele de beijos.

Gosta de fica passando os dedinhos pelos seu corpo pra ver você fica arrepiada.

Fica rindo quando você se cobre com o lençol se abaixando em direção a cintura dele, pra em seguida fica dizendo "YA YA YA, PARA GAROTA, VOLTA AQUI!".

As vezes canta para você ao acorda ou enquanto tá fazendo carinho, tocando seu cabelo.

Gosta quando você dorme nos braços dele com seu rosto colado no dele.

-------------------------------- ♡ -----------------------------------------

You won't get it up 'cause it won't let you.

The two of you always spend half an hour in love in bed until you decide to get up for real.

"Do you love me? How much do you love me? Is that it? Wait…" Depending on the amount of love you say, it will tickle you and will only stop when you tell it you love it 100%.

The two of you are playing fighting, pinning each other with your legs.

He loves it when you ride him and keep showering him with kisses.

He likes to run his little fingers over your body to see you get goosebumps.

He keeps laughing when you cover yourself with the sheet by bending down towards his waist, and then he keeps saying "YA YA YA, GIRL, COME BACK HERE!".

Sometimes she sings to you when she wakes up or while she is petting your hair, touching your hair.

Likes it when you sleep in his arms with your face glued to his.

Wooyoung

Ou vocês vão acorda completamente grudados um no outro ou vão acorda com o pé de um na cara do outro.

Quando ele acorda vai quere fica agarradinho, chega a coloca a cabeça embaixo da sua roupa.

Ama senti seu cheiro e fica mexendo no seu cabelo até pega no sono de novo.

Vai dar beijos longos e apaixonados porque gosta de aproveita quando pode acorda com você.

"Bom dia dorminhoca, hora de acorda! Tô morrendo de fome!".

As vezes vai querer transa pela manhã, mas sempre de forma lenta e prazerosa, se ele tiver um tempo livre vocês vão passa a manhã inteira na cama.

As vezes, você e ele ficam dando tapas na bunda um do outro ao levanta, dependendo da intensidade, acabam voltando pra cama

Dengoso, vai fica choramingando pra não levanta, vai fazer beicinho e só levantar quando você encher ele de beijos.

-------------------------------- ♡ -----------------------------------------

Either you're going to wake up completely glued to each other or you're going to wake up with your foot in each other's faces.

When he wakes up, he wants to hold on to him, he even puts his head under his clothes.

Love smelled you and keeps fiddling with your hair until he fall asleep again.

He will give long and passionate kisses because he likes to enjoy when he can he wakes up with you.

"Good morning sleepyhead, time to wake up! I'm starving!".

Sometimes he will want to have sex in the morning, but always in a slow

and pleasurable way, if he has some free time you will spend the whole morning in bed.

Sometimes, you and he are slapping each other's butts when you get up, depending on the intensity, you end up going back to bed.

Staggering, he'll be whining so he doesn't get up, he'll pout and only get up when you fill him with kisses.

Yunho

Acorda puxando você pra perto dele.

Gosta de dá beijinhos no seu nariz, na sua bochecha, depois na sua boca assim que acorda.

"Bom dia linda, dormiu bem? Pode fica dormindo que vou fazer o café".

Gosta de fica com você entre as pernas dele, te abraçando e namorando antes de levanta.

Fica todo tímido quando você fala que ele fica lindo todo bagunçado depois de acorda.

Gosta de fazer cócegas pra te fazer rir alto e assim acorda feliz.

Ama quando você fica deitada nas costas dele.

Fica sussurrando coisas no seu ouvido e depois faz cara de "eu falei isso? claro que não!".

Ama beijar seus pés, e as vezes aproveita pra te puxa na cama pra fica entre suas pernas e vocês ficarem namorando.

-------------------------------- ♡ -----------------------------------------

Wakes up pulling you close to him.

He likes to kiss your nose, your cheek, then your mouth as soon as you wake up.

"Good morning beautiful, did you sleep well? You can stay asleep and I'll make the coffee".

Likes to stay with you between his legs, cuddling with you and making out before you get up.

He gets all shy when you tell him that he looks beautiful all messed up after he wakes up.

He likes to tickle you to make you laugh out loud and so he wakes up happy.

Loves it when you lie on his back.

He keeps whispering things in your ear and then makes a face like "did I say that? Of course not!"

He loves to kiss your feet, and sometimes he takes the opportunity to pull you on the bed to get between your legs and y'all be in love.

[divinefireangel]

Heyy because SF9 are giants, can I have a reaction on how they are with tiny/shorter s/o? 💗

For some reason I'm smiling like an idiot while writing this 🤦🏾‍♀️😔

Warnings: Fluff. I just went off :].

Youngbin:

Omg he loves you to bits

Thinks you're the cutest fucking thing ever

Since he's tall, he will be kissing your head a lot

Pets you a lot

Looks at you with that smile he gives Jaeyoon when he eats

So much love 😭

Loves to watch you struggle with the higher cabinets tho lol

Laughs adorably seeing your sad plight

"You are so cute "

You can't ever be upset at him cause KISSYS

So many of em you're drowning

Everytime you seem to feel bad about your height, he'll kiss you

Okay his favourite thing ever is when he picks you up to sit you on the counter

Also melts when you just flop on top of him 🥺

Like a puppy who's happy to see him

Inseong:

Proud parent when you do literally ANYTHING????

Like sir, you are hubby. PLS

Laughs cutely at EVERYTHING you do

Why am I screaming?

His favourite thing ever is to rest his head atop yours

It's actually comfortable

For the both of you don't worry 😂

But he's ready to lean down to your height without any hesitation

He claims it's to make it easier for you

But the truth is he can't hear a thing you're saying 💀

He'll NEVER make fun of your height

In fact he'll reassure you that you aren't tiny

But just are fun sized XD

Will beat up anyone who makes fun of your height (including members 💀)

YOU'RE NO. 1 HYPE MAN AKA CHEERLEADER

My god he's whipped cause of your smallness

Jaeyoon:

My hubby 🥺

He's always hugging you

Feels this eerie sense of wanting to protect every time when he's near you

And hugs are always bear hugs btw

Kisses you hair so much

When you look at him with those doe eyes as you struggle to keep your head up

My gosh he loses it

Chances of crying cause of your tinyness : VERY HIGH

Loves carrying you bridal style

Loves seeing you in his clothes

Literally any piece of his clothing lmao

He also loves that even though you are so much smaller than him

He can freely lay on top of you, head on your chest and just sleep there

Won't ever admit it

But when you play with his hair or cheeks when he's cuddling you like a baby

He knows he's home 😭

Dawon:

"Baby baby baby babyyyy"

But those aren't the only petnames he uses lmao

He comes up with so many creative ones like grape, blueberry, muffin, chocolate chip, etc etc

It's all food names

And only the foods he can easily hold in his hands lol

So small foods names 😂😂

Adores when you hug him and put your head on his shoulder

Well you try for shoulder but end up on his pec

He loves holding your face with both his hands🥺

He's a meanie so he will purposely keep things on higher shelves

Only for you to call him and ask for his help

Loves giving you piggy back rides

Makes sure to lean down to kiss your cheek when you aren't paying him attention

Solely to startle you 💀

Zuho:

*sobs in huru*

SO SOFT

SO WORRIED THAT YOU MIGHT HURT YOURSELF DOING DANGEROUS STUFF

Like jumping, standing on your toes, trying to fit in between tall people, etc

His go to reaction whenever you seem tiny is just cooing

Like he coos his cats 🥺

His hands are always touching you

Either they are holding your own or on your shoulders

On his feet every time you need help

Especially when you don't need it 😂

The most Protective Boyfriend™ ever

Okay but he's gonna be super super clingyyy

Cute clingy but still clingy

You know that thing parents do with toddlers? When they make the kid stand on their feet and walk making them laugh uncontrollably?

He's gonna insist on doing that so much 🥺

If you seem like you'll fall, it's okay

He'll catch you and never let you go

Rowoon:

*cries*

HE'S SO FUCKING HAPPY OKAY

Like yeah there are many disadvantages

BUT YOU'RE SO EFFIN CUTE

He genuinely thinks he can keep you in his pocket

Always messes up your hair

ON PURPOSE

Skinship to the max

But due to the height difference

It's just hand holding

Your hand looks so small in his 🥺

Just completely hid away in his palm

Aggressive but kind compliments and gestures

Like pulling you towards him when he senses danger and stuff

Readily picks you up to kiss you 💀

Always taken aback when you hug him

You can barely reach his heart 😭

But you already are in there so it doesn't matter

Yoo Taeyang:

Our god, Yoo TaeYang

His instinct is to hug you from behind

All the damn time

And also to keep you very close to him and his protection

We all know that our sunshine is the type of boyfriend who will coordinate outfits

He loves matching things PLS

So every time he goes shopping, he buys something for the both of you and just cries a lil cause what he's bought for you is so much smaller than his

He loves how since you are small, he can just pick you up in his arms whenever

You can't even protest lmao

Also why he does so much for you

Like the simplest things which you don't even need someone's help for

He does them for you

He cherishes you like that

Silently laughs at your struggles too 💀💀

Hwiyoung:

The first one

I repeat

THE FIRST ONE

To beg you to wear his clothes

Lemme explain.

You is tiny baby

He is not so tiny baby

So his clothes on you will make you look like tinier baby

Making his heart swell in his chest

Pinches you cheeks till they go pink

When you nuzzle your face into his broad self

He feels like he'll fall on the ground

Just an overall simp, if you may

He's never gonna let go of your hand cause he fears you may get hurt if he let's go

If you whine about your height he whines that if you were taller you wouldn't be as cute

Chani:

Boy ain't that tall

But that won't stop him from making fun of your height every single chance he gets

It's okay tho cause he will hold you hand while nagging you

That is in public

At home, is a different story

He's literally all over you

He won't express it out loud but he's silently begging for you to ask for his help with anything

Like getting the snack box from the higher kitchen cabinet

Or your book that he kept on the shelf you can't quite reach

Loves drowning you in his hoodies

Especially when you make sweater paws

If you grab his cheeks to kiss him with your sweater paws

He will start crying.

Cuddles with you being small spoon ALWAYS

I have a feeling that his hugs are heavenly when you're shorter than him

Your arms easily circle his waist, head naturally rests on his shoulder, ears able to hear his heartbeat

He loves pulling you towards him by your clothes cause you collide with his chest when he does that

#okay i probably have a personal need for ju taking care of me like his cats 😭💀 #sf9 #sf9 scenarios #sf9 imagines #sf9 reactions #sf9 x reader #sf9 x reader fluff #sf9 fluff

[rotshop]

hewwoooo i had a funney little thougt and so now im continuing it <33333

n e wayssss here's sum fnky little mag main 4 hcs :]

Hank

-the blueprint the man the myth the legend the firestarter. anyways

-he struggles a lot more with speaking than he did pre-magnification, he can understand it fine but when it comes to finding his words he struggles. so!! he kinda just uses asl when he can and short phrases / grunts / noises, also has his own kind of language w/ you??? lot of tapping and misc noises that just mean things only you two understand its. funny actually. he'll just make some chirping noise at you and you go 'haha yeah that was pretty dumb.' deimos and sanford are both so desperate to know what ur both talking abt its insane.

-carries u around a lot!! he's always super duper careful and he prefers to hold you in his more normal hand, he always gets worried about his talons poking you too rough or him accidentally shocking you if he gets surprised. also likes it when you ride on his shoulders, u also like it because it makes you feel tall :]

-his jackets fucking massive on you you could get lost in that bitch. sometimes if you two can't get back to base for one reason or another he'll just let you lay on him and use his jacket as a blanket for you,,its always super warm and he purrs so !! bonus points

-if u get hurt he goes fucking mental buuut i dont rlly wanna add a bunch of violence warnings to this,,,so,,,we'll leave it at that

-also he adores the size difference, you do your best to kinda cup the sides of his face in ur hands when he leans down for you and they're just??? so fucking small?? he puts his overs urs and just melts in ur hands lol

Sanford

-WOOOOO BESTIE FINALLY GT SOMETHING COOOL HELL YEAAAA /J

-he's VERY nervous around you for the first while, he's incredibly not used to his new form and he's so so worried about accidentally hurting you. his hands always just awkwardly hover around you whenever you're nearby bc he!! fucking wants to be affectionate but hes scared!! hank has to kind of. give him a whole pep talk on this sorta thing and it does help calm his nerves a little but he's still super careful,,,whenever he's holding you or cuddling w/ you he always asks to make sure you're comfortable and he isn't suffocating you or anything,,

-once he gets more adjusted then whooo bestie. he already liked showing off his strength to you before but now its worse. whenever he picks you up and you kinda yelp a little in surprise before you lean into him and hold onto him a lil he just goes bonkers on the inside. he's carrying you most of the time since it just keeps him cool knowing that ur nearby and ur safe in his grip. also tends to keep you behind him whenever you two are on missions (u have to kind of. get him outta this habit just a lil bc he keeps being a lil too paranoid abt it and freaks out when you wander off)

-has claws now which he's very careful of around you but if u ever just like. grab his hands and hold onto em and just kinda. trace over the callouses and scars and scratches then he melts. has to look off to the side or something because he has a big dumb grin on his face, it doesn't rlly help tho because you can hear him purring

-he doesn't talk too much since it feels odd and it's easier for him to keep it to a minimum,,HOWEVER,,the exception is you ofc lol. he murmurs little 'i love you's and such to you a lot still, though he has to be real careful of his volume but!! on the bright side deep-ass voice lol

Deimos

-terrible awful man who loves to cause problems for you <333

-he's like a cat in the sense that he's always hanging around you and bugging you to get your attention, cannot keep his hands off of u for more than 10 minutes. im so sorry 4 you,,,,on the bright side though he does have this kind of like. shaky and faint purring that's a lil fucked up bc of his smoking but it's pretty nice. really likes just leaning over you and resting his head on your shoulder or laying down by you and laying his head on your lap. will not stop pawing at you or making little 'chirrup' sounds at you till you pet him :| get a hobby king

-OH YEAH ALSO HES SO FUCKING HAPPY 2 BE TALLER THAN U LOL,,,rubs it in your face a lot by looming over you and resting his chin on top of your head or putting his shoulders on top of your head like a rest. you can counter this by just stepping forward / to the side because he WILL stumble and he will eat gravel and honestly?? he deserves it. also he really enjoys being big spoon w/ you, same as the previous point he'll sometimes just make u (read : annoy you until you oblige) lay down if neither of you are busy so he can curl up with you. again his purring makes up for it

-he's surprisingly the most animalistic, given he's got a tail and claws now. he likes putting you up on his shoulders or back and carrying you around like that (but also having you wrap ur arms around his neck while he's carrying you like. bridal style sorta and leaning into him is fucking HEAVEN to him. adores it). its fun until he gets on all fours and skitters around :|| u spray him with a water bottle bc of this and he hates it

-speaking of animalistic y'know how animals playfight w/ each other?? he does that with you. he still minds his strength ofc but sanford or 2b will be watching from the side and there's almost always at least one, 'fucking CHRIST deimos, be careful would you?' but yeah no it's usually very careful and its rlly just him roughhousing w/ you a little. usually devolves into him just trapping you down into cuddling w/ him lmao

2bdamned

-oh baby u dont even know.

-(un)surprisingly he's the most like his usual self. his intelligence didn't drop too much unlike the others (there's always at least one offended grunt from Hank when someone says this aloud), meaning he was able to mostly keep to his typical routine. HOWEVER,,he does get a little more laid back surprisingly?? like?? he still works most of the time but if you work alongside him it's a lot more common now for him to just stand by you a little awkwardly until you reach back for him so he can rest his head in the palm of your hand. ur the only one he allows to see him this vulnerable and openly affectionate so please enjoy that. his purring is a little quieter than the others but you can usually feel it instead

-has some funny fucked up wings now. he barely even notices that he does it but whenever you come stand by him he ALWAYS tucks one around you and pulls you closer. also has a habit of just placing one over you while he's laying next to you on his stomach like a blanket. they're sensitive tho so if you ask to touch them he's a little hesitant at first, he trusts you though so he gives in eventually. but. yknow. please do be careful, even just tracing along tender spots with your nails can make him jump a bit

-his speech is relatively the same, a little bit lower and rougher but not too much change. you can hear the little bit of scratchiness in it but !! yeah

-his touch starvation bites him in the ass like this. at first he was able to ignore it for the most part but after getting mag'd??? no gd way. its part of why he just kinda hovers around you a lot more, he's not too good at asking for things like affection so he just kinda. hopes you get the gesture. but on the bright side he doesn't mind if you mess up his hair because he's a little too blissed out whenever you're running your fingers through it. more than a few times has he fallen asleep on you because you were petting him,,,he apologizes whenever he wakes up but you can tell he was happy you let him rest around you like that

#2bdamned x reader #2b x reader #deimos x reader #sanford x reader #hank x reader #hank j wimbleton x reader #madcom imagines #madcom x reader #madness combat x reader #madness combat imagines

[mr-voorhees-husband]

First post n it's horny Michael Myers thoughts.

All of these were copy and pasted, so they're messy and have typos, but if requested I can write them better if y'all want.

Warnings; NSFT Content, Sexual Content, Breeding Kink, Blood kink, periods kink, leaning toward trans male reader but almost completely gender-neutral.

Old Man Myers

He's loud asf when fucking his partner, no matter what

Giving head? He's moaning against them even if he isn't getting touched. Fucking them? Mans is curled around them, groaning out broken praises through his grunts of pleasure. Receiving head? Moaning loud asf and just looses himself in the pleasure

Old man Myers and Rz!Michael are super fucking desperate.

For Myers he's so old and has just never done it that it's all so much for him and he doesn't really know how to handle it.

Myers likes being called daddy.

Og!Michael and Old man Myers both have a period kink

Myers likes going down on his partner during it and get tasting the bloods makes him get so hot n bothered, even if his partner thinks it's gross he doesn't care

Myers has an oral fixation. He doesn't know why, and neither does his partner, but he loves going down on them.

He could live and die in between his s/o's thighs and would die a happy man

Myers will often just grab his s/o and tug them to the nearest surface and set them down on it. The first couple time his s/o thought he just wanted an easier way to fuck them, but nope, horny old man just wanted to face fuck himself on their sex

A lot of times his darling has to tap out first due to 1; his scruff which does start to burn after a while, and 2; he will keep going even after they've cum multiple times

Myers and og!Michael do give aftercare, but mostly in the shape up cuddles. They'll take a shower w/ their s/o if they get up and go take one, but other then that the two are content with cuddles.

Rz!Michael Myers (aka Mikey)

Old man Myers and Rz!Michael are super fucking desperate.

Ohoho mans has so much insecurities that he never thought anyone would like him, so when he found out his darling like him back? All that was on his mind was fucking + cuddling them for the rest of the week.

MIKEY LIKES CALLING HIS PARTNER DADDY, EVEN IF HE'S THE TOP IN THE SITUATION

Rz!Michael is the most gentle out of all of them. Now, the other 2 are gentle, because they couldn't imagine hurting their partner, but he's gentle to the max.

He'll barely even manhandle them unless they ask.

Mikey has a breeding kink, but not because he wants to like, breed his s/o or anything, no no no

Mans just wants to fill them up to the brim, cuddle up to them, keep 'em nice and warm, and use his hands to keep it in them until they eventually take a shower together

He's possessive, and that's the easiest way to stake a claim on them w/ hurting them or making them embarrassed

Mikey is the most messy I'd think he cums a lot, and is definitely a sweaty man at the end of it

The only choice with him is to fuck in the shower, change the sheets immediately, or use a towel, cause with how much he cums there isn't much else you can do w/o leaving a mess

He's also the most prone to proper aftercare, he knows he's a big guy, and will often (after cuddles) carry his s/o to the shower, and afterwards get them some water and as such

OH MIKEY HAS A CATBOY KINK

His s/o put on cat ears once as a joke and mans went feral

Og!Michael (1978)

Og!Michael and Old man Myers both have a period kink

Og!Michael out of all the three definitely likes fucking his s/o until they're drunk on pleasure

Making them a blubbering, moaning mess at the end of it is what he strives for

Myers and og!Michael do give aftercare, but mostly in the shape up cuddles. They'll take a shower w/ their s/o if they get up and go take one, but other then that the two are content with cuddles.

All three

He (all of them) have a domestic kink

His darling's a homemaker? Maybe they're not a housespouse and instead a the moneymaker? Both? He'll go insane.

It gives him a sense of normalcy, and the idea of his s/o being this lovely little spouse all for him? Especially if they want to 'marry' him? Ohh all he wants to do is drag them to the bed room.

Not even in a sexual way, either, he just loves them that much and doesn't know any other way to explain it.

He HATES stuff like choking, impact play, and knife play unless he's receiving. He only dabbles in predator + prey and blood kink if the blood isn't his partner's (or isn't from a wound), and the partner is in no real danger during the chase.

He sees it too much like his partner is one of his victims and he hates it because he wants them to know that he loves them, and they aren't a victim.

But if his partner puts a knife to his chest/neck? Even in a joking manner? Or if they grab his throat to get some kind of leverage, even on accident? Mans is gonna moan like a pornstar and get so hard so quick it isn't funny

He'll fuck himself through over stimulation too. Especially the first time w/ his partner

The first time w/ his partner basically goes like this; He'll cum embarrassingly fast, but he doesn't even notice and just keeps going. It hurts, sure, but he doesn't care, he just wants his partner to keep moaning

Oh more first time hcs + overstimulation shit; he's a shaking mess. He's made himself cum at least 5 times, and started crying the 3rd time, but he does not care. He's leaning over them, out of breath, and so ready to just flop down and pass out. But when his partner squirms slightly, letting out the barest of noises, he's grabbing their hips again and getting back to work. Can't leave his darling unsatisfied, that'd just be rude.

#old man myers #michael myers #rz michael myers #rz halloween #halloween kills #Halloween #micheal myers

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

--

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

#g/t #fearplay #g/t writing #my writing #gianttiny #macro/micro #gt #giant/tiny #g/t angst #g/t community #hurt no comfort #remembers that anon i got a few days ago asking if i would ever write things with less angst #hopes this answers the question #also #these ocs? #they spark zero joy #so i will not be writing them again #meaning yes yall only get this sad ending oh well (: #absolutely not beta read nor edited sorry #ask #alarstar

[snlhostharry]

try try again

harry x reader

2.2k words 

summary: harry wants to propose, but life keeps getting in the way 

a/n: first off... I suck at titles... why am I like this.... second off this is my secret santa gift for @jambrosemc ! happy holidays em! hope you like this, you are a super talented writer I just binged all your pieces and I am obsessed. and thank you to @peeterparkr for hosting 

The first time he tries is after the first concert he does for Fine Line. 

Fine Line at the Forum is a success in all the ways that matter, and Harry is so happy coming off the stage that he almost forgets about his plan to propose all together. When you barge into his dressing room after the show is over, smiling and ecstatic for him he suddenly sees the ring box on the counter and rushes to shove it in his pocket before you can see it. 

“That was insane, love,” You say wrapping him into a hug. “I think they really liked it.” 

He gives you a cheeky smile, “You think?” You roll your eyes in response, “What gave it away?” He asks, “The frantic screaming or the bra’s that were thrown onto the stage?” 

“You should’ve kept a couple,” You tease, “They could’ve been my size.” 

He laughs, “If you want one that bad I will buy it for you.” 

“I’m holding you to that,” You say, taking a seat on top of the counter. He runs a hand through his hair, knowing that this would be the perfect moment to just get down on one knee. He can see himself doing it, simply bending down and saying the words he’s wanted to say for what feels like forever. “You okay?” You ask him, seeing the look on his face and supposing that he’s thinking about something that happened during the concert. “You did a great job out there, seriously. Everyone really loved it H, the album is spectacular.” 

He shakes himself back into the moment, “I know, I know.” He says, and it comes off a little sharper than he means it too, he’s just very much in his own head about this whole thing now. What felt like it would be the perfect moment now feels wrong, like doing it now would cheapen the entire thing. He sighs, “Sorry,” He says, planting himself down on the floor dramatically, “Thank you.” 

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to,” You tell him, guessing that he’s just tired from a long night. “Let’s get takeout and go home, or go home and get takeout whichever order.” 

He smiles, “You ate before the show.” 

“That was like three hours ago, and it was a snack, I always planned on eating again, and you were too nervous to eat before the show.” 

He hugs his knees to his chest, “Watching you eat an entire kids meal in under five minutes actually helped with the nerves.” 

You shrug, “What can I say? I have my moments.” 

He stands and presses a kiss to your forehead as you swing your legs over the side of the counter. “You have a lot of moments, I love you.” 

“Love you too,” You wait a second before asking, “So home then?” 

He thinks about it for a minute, “Yeah.” 

“When you call in the food order make sure you put it under my name,” You tell him and he collects his things from the room, “People are beginning to get suspicious when I go into the restaurant to pick up an order for Harry.” 

He nods, and gently grabs your hand as the two of you leave. Maybe he’s not going to do it tonight, but he’s more resolved to actually pop the question than ever. He’s just so in love with you that he wants the whole thing to be perfect, and for some reason he has it all in his head that it needs to be a story that the two of you can tell in the future, something meaningful, he just has absolutely no idea what that is. 

The second planned attempt is a lot more off the cuff. 

You insist on throwing him a birthday party at the house, saying something about wanting to one up your sister who threw a very tasteful christmas party that the two of you went to. Not that your sister was invited seeing as the party was in London, but you knew that there would be enough pictures that she would see that you’re just as good as she is. Harry doesn’t understand it at all, but he decides that he doesn't even want to know how a rivalry like that can develop and leaves it alone. 

Objectively, you throw a very nice party. Of course Harry makes it a point to tell you this as often as possible without seeming overly invested in it, because he loves you and he wants you to be proud of your own work just like you want him to be proud of his. It’s hard for him to leave your side at all because he loves to see you talk to his friends and family and seem so happy to do it. You fit right in with everyone and he’s so grateful for that, and it’s as he’s standing there watching you talk to people that it hits him that this could be his moment. 

Not in front of everyone because that would be so much more pressure than he needs, but he thinks that after when everyone has finally left the house that he could catch you in the middle of cleaning or something and gently ask you to marry him. He decides that tonight, that’s the plan and he spends the rest of the night just thinking about that. It really is a great party, full of all his favorite things and people, it’s one of those nights where he feels like he loves you so much that his heart might just burst out of his chest. 

When finally every last guest has left the house, and things are a bit messy, he can’t seem to find you anywhere. He locks the door behind him, and starts walking through the house calling your name. He checks upstairs, in the kitchen, in all the bathrooms, and nothing. Until finally he walks into the living room and finds you sound asleep on the couch, snoring loudly enough that he’s surprised he didn’t hear it while he was looking. He looks at you and just smiles, suddenly completely fine with the fact that another plan has been ruined. He simply picks you up and takes you to bed, well aware he’s going to have to move onto plan C if he ever wants to get this done. 

The next time he tries, you end up surprising him. 

Plan C is a nice candlelight dinner at the house, which Harry tried to cook but ended up burning so eventually he relented and ordered food before putting it all together. Of all the plans he had come up with thus far, this one seemed the most foolproof. Everything was already planned: he knew you were going to come home from work at a certain time, he knew that there wouldn't be any distractions, and he had psyched himself up enough that he wasn’t just going to forget about the whole thing like he did the first time.

When the entire table is set up and the ring is in his pocket, he sits waiting for you to come home. He thinks about getting up to change some of the place settings just a little, but when he does he hears the clicking sound of your key in the door and sits back in his seat. After you walk into the house and set your stuff down in the entryway, Harry hears the sound of your shoes on the floor as you excitedly run into the kitchen. When you make it to where he can see you, he sees that you have a megawatt smile on your face and a large box in your hands. 

“I have a surprise,” You say, keeping a firm hold of the box. 

“I suppose it’s in that box,” He says, leaning over the chair so that he can see. 

You roll your eyes but keep smiling, “Yeah, obviously.” 

“Do you want me to guess?”

“God no,” You say, “That would take way too long. Basically I was at work today, and Mark has been producing this piece about a no kill animal shelter for a new segment about everyday heroes or whatever which is gross because puff pieces but when the woman came in to do the interview she brought in all these cats, no dogs for some reason, but anyway so we were all playing with the cats because our job is stressful and cats, and then she was like ‘you guys seem so good with these cats, they are looking for homes and-” 

He looks at you with a wide eyed expression, “You didn’t.” 

You ceremoniously walk over to the table, open the box and pull a small orange cat into your arms, “You bet your ass I did.” You gently pet the cat, which mews quietly from your arms, “She does not have a name mostly because I couldn’t think of any.” 

“We talked about pets like a week ago, briefly.” 

You give a guilty smile, “Yeah but I felt like I really needed this cat. I live here now, we live here, and I finally feel like I’m settled-” You sit down at the table and sigh, “I think I might be nesting, which is kind of gross but I don't know. I love you, and I love being here and I finally feel stable enough to get a freaking cat so that’s the explanation I have.” 

He can’t stop himself from breaking into a smile, even though he knows his plans have been thwarted again. (He thinks later, after the moment has already passed that he very well could’ve done it right then and there after you’d given a whole speech about the two of you being stable). He shakes his head after looking at you making funny faces at the cat like it’s a child, “Okay hand her over.” 

You hand her over and say, “I will not accept any names that have to go with the fact that she’s a ginger, because that’s just lame.” 

“Well seeing as those were my only ideas-”

You sigh, “We will think of something, just not now because you got dinner and I’m starving.” 

“What’s she going to eat?”

“I got food and a bowl, and a bunch more things being delivered within the next week or two.” 

“Did you go out and buy a box just for the dramatic reveal?”

“Yes, I did and it was totally worth it.” 

The cat’s name ends up being Hillary, after you discover an affinity for pet names that are usually person names. Something about the way you’ll end up talking about Hillary in polite conversation and someone will have to ask you who that is makes you want to choose it overall. Even though Harry is not sure about the sudden change at first, he soon becomes best friends with Hillary, and you often find the two of them cuddled up together on the couch. She likes to listen to him play music just as much as you do as it turns out. 

Harry is still trying to think of a way to propose. So much time has passed since he bought the ring, and the first time that he planned to pop the question that he wonders if he’ll ever find the right time to do it or if you’ll just end up asking him one day because it’s all gone too far. One afternoon when the two of you are relishing a rare shared day off, he watches you cook lunch in the kitchen and decides that now is the time to do it. No more excuses, no more surprises, just him and you and the question on the tip of his tongue for too long. 

When you put all of the food on plates, and set them out on the counter he walks over and just looks at you. It weirds you out at first so you ask, “What? Is there something on my face?” 

He gets down on one knee and you still are very confused about what he’s doing. You open your mouth to ask him, but the realization suddenly hits you and you cover your mouth with your hands. 

“y/n,” He says, “I have been waiting to ask you this for what feels like forever. And everytime that the plan fell through you somehow managed to make me want to marry you even more. I love you so much, I love everything about you, how excited you get about your work, how much you love Hillary and how supportive you are whenever I do anything. I love our life here, and I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?” 

You don’t say anything for a second, still shocked, “Yes of course.” He stands and kisses you, slipping the ring onto your finger. “I was wondering when you would ask me.” 

“You knew?”

“I saw it that night after the forum,” You say, “I figured you got nervous.” 

“And you just let me flounder here for almost six months?” 

“Yes,” You smile, “I figured you wanted to do it on your own terms.” 

“Next time just call me out love, because I sat on this for too long.” 

#peetersanta #why am I posting this so late? because Im ~impatient~ #I need feedback NOW #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #my writing

[asset35-maya]

HEAT WAVES

This is a short multi-character series about different kinds of love blooming in the summertime. Written as part of the DBH LATE SUMMER PROMPT CHALLENGE

(Read Parts 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 and 6 first!)

[PART 7/7: HEAT OF THE NIGHT]

**TW: SEXUAL CONTENT

//

\\

“Hey baby.”

Gavin was barely audible as he shifted on Hank’s couch to make room for Nines. He opened his arms and let the android lay down with his back to his chest. He wrapped an arm around Nines’ middle and nuzzled his neck.

“I couldn’t find Sixty anywhere. Are you sure you didn’t see him leave?”

“Hmm…? No…”

“I think he’s disabled his tracker. The little shit! The house keeps coming up as his last location when I search for his signal!”

“Don’t worry, babe. He knows his way back. Like our cat… If Con went missing that would be a real problem. Like if Sumo went missing. But with Six… it’s like our bitch-ass cat. She comes and goes as she pleases. We shouldn’t wait up.”

Nines rearranged his husband’s sleepy grip to be less stifling and relaxed into the cuddle.

“Hmm. You always did understand my own brothers better than me. I just can’t figure out why he was so upset earlier.”

Gavin yawned and pulled Nines closer despite having just been pushed away a little. He tended to get handsy after a few drinks.

“He should be fine now...”

Frowning, Nines twisted in the human’s grasp. He was smooched lovingly before he could articulate any response. He allowed a few messy kisses before breaking off with a quiet whine.

“Gavin, if you know where he is, just tell me. I’ll sleep better for it.”

“Babe, I have no idea-”

He broke off as a rumble came from overhead. Something scraped across the tiles on the roof and came to a stop with a muted thud. Nines looked up at (and through) the ceiling, eyes glazing over and LED spinning rapidly. 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

A detective through and through, Gavin chuckled as he easily deduced whatever Nines saw using his x-ray vision. He pressed a kiss to his husband’s throat. 

“Just like us back in the day, huh?” 

//

\\

Allen broke away panting. He put a hand on Sixty’s chest to still him. It had been years since he’d done anything like this. Lying on top of a man’s house and making out with his son for hours like a teenager.

Their chaste first kiss had evolved into something decidedly more mature. Months of mutual pining and sexual tension spilled over effusively and now the two of them were rock hard and desperate for some kind of release. 

Sixty moaned in Allen’s ear and ground against his thigh. With the way they were lying intertwined, that action also brought some much-needed friction to Allen’s groin. He sucked his breath in through his teeth. 

“Sixty... just... Fuck it. Just touch me.” 

“Are you sure, Cap?”

“Fuck, don’t call me that if you’re going to jerk me off!” 

“Yes, sir.”

Sixty kissed him once more and undid the buttons of his jeans with ease. A hand slipped past the waistband and palmed his erection through his briefs. Impatient, Allen lifted his hips and brought both his underwear and jeans down to his thighs. Sixty’s eyes widened at the sight of the exposed and leaking cock.

Despite having very limited experience in this department, the android moved with confidence. He rolled over his captain’s body and captured his chapped lips in another deep kiss, wrapping a hand around the turgid shaft and stroking. 

Allen sighed into the kiss with satisfaction and began to unzip Sixty’s trousers. He quickly found his prize and ran a thumb over the tip of the synthetic penis, producing a garble of static and glitching noises from the android. 

Their wrists moved in tandem, speeding up and slowing down in a well-coordinated rhythm. Allen let his consciousness wander and allowed himself to forget that he was perched two floors above the ground. He placed all his trust in the android holding him. It wasn’t the first time he’d done so, albeit in a very different context... so it was incredibly easy. 

Sixty soon felt himself get near to the close and could tell that Allen was even closer. He withdrew his hand and peeled Allen’s fingers off his own dick. Looking deep into his new lover’s eyes, Sixty lowered himself further and brought their slick cocks in direct contact with each other. 

That was absolutely the right thing to do, considering the loud moan that Allen let out. The older man clapped a hand over his mouth in shock at his own reaction, but quickly recovered when Sixty spat between them and began to move. Trapped between their abdomens, their cocks slipped and slid against each other... hardening and pulsing and twitching... and then finally releasing.

LED flashing a myriad of colors and cooling fans running high, Sixty finished with a groan and fell onto the roofing tiles beside Allen. They both lay there staring at the moon… thoroughly undignified… shirts hiked up over their nipples…spent cocks dribbling onto their stomachs. 

“Great job, Cap.” 

“You too... bud.” 

//

\\

Tina arched her back and clamped her thighs over his hips as she rode him, backwards. She tossed her hair and rolled her body in ways she’d only seen in certain films. If she thought about it for too long, it felt kind of silly. Like she was just playing a part and the director would yell cut any second. 

But this was real. This was not a Hollywood studio. This was her boyfriend’s bedroom and this was the sex life she had now.

She wondered whether it had anything to do with him being an android... Connor was insatiable. He wanted her all day, every day, everywhere. 

She didn’t know if or how long it would last, but hell, she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was the best sex of her existence and she would take however much of it she was given, especially if it came with heaps of adoration and praise and affection.

Connor jerked his hips underneath her. She got the message and picked up the pace. His hands came to rest on her stomach from behind and slid upwards slowly to cup her breasts. He held on tightly and sat up, pressing his chest against her back with enviable core strength. 

Tina turned in his grip and he brought his mouth to hers. She parted her lips and invited his tongue in. He then leaned forwards and brought her crashing down onto the mattress. Another position, then. 

With a series of implicit gestures, Tina relinquished the lead and passed the control back to Connor. He flipped her onto her back and hooked her legs around his waist, all the while buried deep inside and pumping ceaselessly. His deft fingers circled her clit and she knew that she’d be coming again... for the fifth time in a row. 

“Hey T.” 

“What?” 

“I love you.” 

//

\\

Gavin sighed against Nines’ bare back. Falling asleep was proving difficult, given the clamour from various parts of the house. He knew his husband was wide awake too.

“Baby…”

“Shhhh.”

“Don’t act like you can sleep through all this.”

“What?”

“Your siblings making multiple trips to bone town? Plus your dad trying to out-snore his dog. It sounds like we’re on a farm here.”

Nines made a petulant noise but Gavin could tell that he was also amused.

“So what do you suggest we do?”

“Well, I’ve always said… if you can’t beat ’em… join ’em…”

Gavin scooted around on the couch a little and pressed his groin flush against Nines’ backside. A sharp hiss escaped the android.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

There was a pause (during which a series of snores and moans echoed in the living room) while Nines considered the proposition. He apparently found little objection to it and ground back against Gavin’s hardening length.

“Now we’re talking.”

Gavin gently bit down on his husband’s shoulder and pulled on the drawstrings of the sweatpants they both wore. He eased the fabric off the both of them. In no time at all, his stiffening cock was between Nines’ cheeks and his hand wrapped around Nines’ shaft.

Self-lubrication was one of the things about androids that Gavin was eternally grateful for. He gathered the drip from Nines’ tip and coaxed him to full mast, all the while rutting against the slick crease of Nines’ ass.

Their motions were easy, well-practiced.

Once they were both fully aroused, he stroked his hands over Nines’ body and guided one of his thighs up to fully expose his entrance. There was absolutely no resistance. Even in the dark, there was no hitch to any of these proceedings. They’d made love like this a hundred times before and would do it a hundred times again.

Gavin took hold of his cock, gave it a few pumps and aimed. He slowly found his mark, slipping in and bottoming out with grace. He hooked an arm around Nines’ raised leg and waited a beat, before pulling halfway out and pushing back in exactly once.

“Ohhh…”

“Is that good, baby?”

“Shhh… don’t talk.”

Gavin smiled into the side of Nines’ neck and set up a gentle rhythm with his hips. He had to go with the shallowest of thrusts if they intended to stay on the couch. But that was fine, they’d had plenty of rough, fast sex in the early days of their relationship. They weren’t missing out on anything. In fact, nowadays both of them preferred the sweeter, gentler kind of lovemaking.

Nines reached behind and cradled Gavin’s head in the crook of his arm, pulling him down for a deep kiss. He obliged easily, and for his part, used the extra room to slip his free hand around Nines’ body and grasp his cock.

Under each other’s careful ministrations, they took turns to sink into the pleasure and fall apart. Eventually, when he could hold himself back no longer, Gavin began taking all the steps to make sure Nines came first. He sinfully grazed the synthetic prostate on every thrust…caressed his chest… teased his nipples… massaged his laden balls… and pumped his cock with dedication until Nines seized up against him and came with a muted gasp.

Gavin stroked him throughout the climax and caught the ejaculate in his fingers. Without any instruction, Nines grabbed his hand and licked the mess off his digits. Keeping his breath steady, Gavin pulled out and lay flat on the couch with his flushed and wet cock in the air.

The android moved over him with absolutely no need to be asked. Nines took his husband into his mouth and swallowed down to the base of his shaft with an utterly inhuman lack of gag reflex. Gavin finished down his throat and the two of them fell back into the spooning position that they’d begun in.

They lay together quietly, catching their breath and basking in the afterglow of yet another round of happily married sex. It was so blissful that they almost forgot where they were until one of Hank’s rumbling snores resounded through the house. Nines had the presence of mind to get up and pull their sweatpants back on before both drifted off to dreamland… uninterrupted by lustful moans from the spare bedroom and heavy thudding from the roof.

//

\\

@connor-sent-by-cyberlife

#dbhlatesummer #dbh prompt challenge #dbh event #tw: sex scenes #spicy content under the cut #reed900 #dbh gavin #gavin reed #dbh nines #rk900 #dbh rk900 #connor x tina #dbh tina #dbh connor #dbh connor 60 #dbh sixty #dbh allen #allen60 #dbh fanfic #dbh #dbh writing #my writing

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Wake-Up Calls and Watermelon (SPN/CM)

Criminal Minds / Supernatural crossover! 

Word Count: ~2140

Warnings: Irresponsible use of pink feathery handcuffs, but don’t worry, Sam is there to give a safety lecture. Kiddie pools, kittens, an emotional support cyberterrorist, and so much fluff. Ridiculous escapism at its finest. Everybody needs a smile these days, right? 

A/N: Four mornings on the Wayward Sons World Tour. This is part of the Rockstar AU, but it can be read on its own, as can most of that series. There’s no real plot, just shenanigans and silliness. 

Thanks to @stunudo​ and @fookinghelljensensthighs​ for pre-reading and inspirational photographs, respectively! 

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 4: somewhere between Miami and Orlando, FL

Something is meowing. 

Rossi frowns to himself and opens his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of his bunk. 

Something is meowing on his bus. 

His first thought would ordinarily be Penelope and one of her assorted stuffed animals or weird talking figurines. Spencer could also potentially be the culprit, depending on what sort of chemicals were in his system. Last time Rossi checked, though, both of them were on the other bus, where the shenanigans are supposed to happen. This is the quiet bus, where the grownups sleep. 

The mysterious something meows again. 

Bad enough that he’s slumming it sleeping on a goddamn tour bus. Now there’s a goddamn petting zoo on board. Rossi sighs and gets out of his bunk to investigate. 

“Who’s the cutest kitten in the entire world?” Morgan is sitting on the ground in the front, smiling adoringly at a tiny ball of black fuzz he’s cradling in his palms. “Who’s the sweetest little furball I’ve ever seen, hmm?” 

“How on God’s green earth did you find a kitten at —” Rossi glances at the clock on the microwave. “—nine in the morning in the middle of Florida?” 

Morgan looks a little guilty, but Rossi can’t tell if it’s because he has a kitten or because he got caught using that ridiculous high-pitched voice. 

“We’re at a rest stop so the drivers can get a couple hours’ sleep, and Hotch and I were stretching our legs, and they were in a box close to the highway,” Morgan explains. “He was the only one who was still alive. I couldn’t just leave him there.” 

The door opens, and Hotch comes in, carefully carrying a small dish of water. He’s followed by Sam Winchester, who has an upside-down drum that’s padded with a towel. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Rossi mutters, watching the three grown men surround the kitten and coo at it. Morgan tucks it into the drum and it curls up happily, meowing its appreciation. 

Sam’s phone rings, and he digs it out of his pocket and answers: “Yeah? No, we got water, we just — no, Dean, Jesus. Just the hoodie. Did you find it?” He pauses and scowls, stepping away from the others and lowering his voice. “No, that’d be way too big for it, are you kidding me? That collar was specially made… no! Leave the fucking leash, Dean, it’s not like we’re taking the kitten for walks.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, bring the feathery thing, just — oh for fuck’s sake, leave that bag alone before you find something you really don’t — Dean. Yeah. Cool.” He grimaces and hangs up. 

“Do I want to know?” Rossi asks, with a new sense of respect. 

“No,” Sam says firmly. He turns back to Hotch and Morgan and announces, “Dean’s bringing some stuff we can use as cat toys, and a big hoodie with a pocket so you can carry it around.” 

“Sweet. Thanks, man,” Morgan says, flashing a bright grin. He’s all googly-eyed. 

“What should we name it?” Sam asks, crouching down and rubbing under the kitten’s chin with one careful finger. 

They all take a moment to consider. The little ball of fluff is purring, and even Rossi has to admit that it’s goddamn adorable. 

“What kind of drum is that?” Hotch asks Sam, who grins. 

“Pearl.” 

“Pearl!” Morgan echoes delightedly. “Who’s the prettiest little black pearl, hmm?” 

“I guess we need to find a pet store,” Rossi sighs, and settles in to get to know his grand-kitten.

***

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 7: Atlanta, GA

“Wheels up in fifteen,” Hotch is shouting, banging on the hotel room door. JJ groans without opening her eyes and tries to pull Emily closer, rubbing her cheek against the soft worn cotton of Emily’s shirt. 

“What the fuck,” Emily mumbles. 

“Oh, seriously, what the fuck,” comes Penelope’s voice. The fact that it’s coming from somewhere above JJ is what makes her frown and open her eyes. 

She and Emily are on the floor, lying in a sort of nest, which upon closer inspection seems to be made up of an inflatable kiddie pool filled with blankets. 

Penelope is peering over the edge of her bed at them, squinting blearily, last night’s hot pink lipstick smeared down her chin. She appears to be wearing a plastic coconut bra over her shirt. 

“Huh,” JJ says. She pulls a lei off her neck. “Did we throw a tiki party last night?” 

“That would seem to be the case,” Emily says slowly. She rolls over and wraps her arms around JJ. “Five more minutes.” 

“Solid plan,” JJ answers, snuggling in. The kiddie pool is surprisingly comfortable. 

“Not if we have to pack up and get our sorry asses on the bus in fifteen minutes,” Penelope reminds them. 

“Fuck.” 

“I smell like… like daiquiris and regret,” Penelope sighs. She wrestles the coconut bra off and flings it across the room. 

“You can have first shower,” Emily says generously. 

JJ hears Penelope pad across the floor, and then there’s a surprised yelp from the bathroom. 

“Is Spencer in the tub again?” JJ mutters. 

“Yes, but oh my god, you guys, you need to come see this,” Penelope says, giggling. JJ groans, head spinning, but manages to get up. She hauls Emily to her feet. 

JJ pokes her head through the bathroom door and snorts. Spencer’s wearing one of those cheap fake grass skirts over his jeans and there’s a top hat perched on his head. He’s got his arms wrapped around a tacky pink flamingo lawn ornament. 

“Em, get your—”

“On it,” Emily says, already reappearing with her phone to snap a picture. 

Spencer stirs with a pathetic sort of whining noise. 

“Next time I suggest coconut rum,” he slurs, without opening his eyes, “...remind me I’m a moron, ‘kay?” 

*** 

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 10: near Dallas, TX

“Get your hooves out of the toaster!” Cas says urgently. Dean starts awake and almost falls out of the bunk. He really needs to give up trying to sleep with Cas on the bus; these things were not meant for two people. 

Cas mumbles something about Mufasa and opens his eyes groggily. 

“Fun dreams?” Dean asks, voice raspy with sleep. He cuddles close and presses a kiss to Cas’s pulse. 

“There were wildebeests in the kitchen,” Cas croaks. 

“Sounds like a good time. Coffee?” 

“Mmm.” 

Dean rolls out of the bunk and stretches. The door to the back lounge is open, and he can hear music; he looks inside curiously. 

He remembers Sam saying something about a Doctor Who marathon. Geek.

The DVD menu is up on the little flat-screen, playing the theme music in a loop. Sam’s sprawled out on one of the couches with popcorn in his hair, and Penelope and Charlie are leaning against each other on the other couch. 

Someone snores loudly, but it doesn’t seem to be any of those three. Dean looks around, momentarily confused, until he spots Spencer, who has wedged himself under the tiny table. He’s curled up with what looks like Charlie’s favorite purple hoodie as a pillow, and Pearl is kneading happily at one of his arms. 

“Time’s it?” Sam asks quietly. He sits up, and something pops audibly as he stretches his shoulders. 

“Coffee time,” Dean whispers back. 

He wants to make a snarky quip about how they’ve clearly been partying hard, but Sammy’s looking around the room with such a fond little smile on his face that Dean can’t bring himself to say anything. Instead, he just leads the way through the bunk area, out to the front, where Cas is watching the coffee drip slowly into the pot. 

Dean wraps his arms around Cas and nuzzles into his neck. It’s a good morning. 

***

Wayward Sons World Tour, Day 14: Chula Vista, CA

Penelope is just about to get up for a gloriously self-indulgent shower (and if she uses all the hot water while the others are hitting snooze, that’s fully their problem) when there’s a knock on the door.

She peers through the peephole. It’s Dean, aka not at all who she expected. 

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” he says gruffly, when she opens the door. “Um… Spencer said he knows how to pick locks?”

Ooh, this is gonna be fun.  

“He sure does. What’s up?” 

“Um… we need to pick a lock,” Dean tries, and Penelope laughs. 

“Nice try. Gimme the dirty deets.” 

Dean sighs. “Jack is maybe handcuffed to the bed.” 

“No way,” Penelope says gleefully. “Okay, I will wake the boy wonder, hang on.” 

She ushers Dean into their room, shushing him and pointing to JJ and Emily, who are still asleep, before poking Spencer. 

“Are you sleeping in a kiddie pool?” Dean asks. 

“Mmph,” Spencer assents, rubbing his eyes. “M’comfy.” 

Penelope shrugs at Dean as if to say, what can you do? 

“So there is a bit of a situation I was hoping you could help with,” Dean says. “A lock picking situation? It’s, um, a pair of handcuffs.” 

Spencer doesn’t bat an eye, bless his heart. He just shrugs and unfolds himself from the kiddie pool, picking up his wallet from the desk. 

Penelope grabs a robe and her glasses, because while she wouldn’t ordinarily show her face while she’s still in pajamas, there’s no way in hell she’s missing this. Dean looks like he’s about to protest. 

“She’s my emotional support cyberterrorist,” Spencer tells him. “She’s coming.” 

“Excuse you, former cyberterrorist,” Penelope says, as dignified as she can manage while wearing a fuzzy zebra-patterned robe. “I prefer to think of myself as your fairy godmother.” 

“No teasing him,” Dean says sternly, but leads the way out the door. 

“You really trying to tell me you found the kid handcuffed to a bed and nobody is going to tease him about it?” 

“Well,” Dean amends, with a smug grin. “Nobody but his family is allowed to tease him. Don’t worry, though, we took pictures.” 

“Yeah, okay. That seems fair.” 

Dean leads the way into the Ceiling Fires’ suite and points them to one of the bedrooms. 

Penelope can hear Sam’s voice when they get to the open door: “I told you, they’re single-latch. You pull on those the wrong way, they’ll cut off your circulation and — oh, hey, guys.” 

Not only are they handcuffs, they’re handcuffs adorned with pink fluff. They’ve pulled a blanket up to Jack’s chest, but he’s clearly naked under it, and he’s blushing so hard he basically matches the handcuffs. 

“Good morning,” he says politely. 

Penelope gives him a cheerful wave. “Don’t mind me. Spencer’s here to rescue you.” 

Spencer is unfazed. He pulls a tiny flat case from inside his wallet and pulls out a couple picks. Sam and Dean are both watching him like hawks. Mother hens. Overprotective mother hawks? Something like that. 

It barely takes a second before the lock clicks open. 

Jack breathes a sigh of relief and rubs his wrists. “Thank you. Seriously.” 

“You gotta teach me that,” Sam says to Spencer. He grabs the handcuffs and lifts them between two fingers like they’ve personally offended him. 

“It’s easy once you understand the principle of it,” Spencer tells him, showing him the picks. “See, this pushes the tumbler—” 

“Where’d you go?” comes a low British voice from the main room, and then Harry motherfucking Styles is wandering through the door, wearing a turquoise silk kimono and holding a half-eaten slice of watermelon. “What on Earth are you doing with those? I have my leather — oh.” He looks from Penelope to Spencer, blinking. “I… don’t know you, do I?” 

“Shit,” Dean mutters. “When did you get here?” 

“Wee hours.” He takes a bite of watermelon, tongue-first, and chews slowly. 

Penelope is staring. She should really stop staring and say something cool. 

“You look sorta familiar,” Spencer offers, with a little wave. “Did you sell me E at a warehouse party in Boston a couple years ago? Cause I gotta say, that was a weird night.” 

“Pretty sure that wasn’t me,” he says pensively. “But stranger things have happened.” 

Harry goddamn Styles is licking juice off his fingers and dimpling in her general direction and this cannot be real life. 

“The watermelon is a little on the nose, don’t you think?” Penelope blurts out. Sam snorts from somewhere behind her. 

“They were all out of kiwis, I’m afraid,” Harry drawls. “You want some? More in the kitchen. Bananas, too, and—”  

“Hey, guys?” Jack interrupts, from where he’s got the covers pulled up to his chin. “Um… would you mind taking this outside so I can put some clothes on?” 

There’s a chorus of apologies. Spencer asks about coffee as they all start to filter out the door, and Penelope heads to the kitchen to eat watermelon with Harry Styles, because apparently this is her life now. 

.

.

.

#supernatural #criminal minds #spn x cm #crossover #cm fic #supernatural fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

[notanacousticsetcal]

hi! I was wondering if you could write #'s 9 & 23 with Calum? thanks! 😊

a/n - i love this combination! thank you for the request, i hope i did it justice. the setting is loosely inspired by safe haven because i adore that movie so much and i thought it would be a cute location for this story. anyway, enjoy :)

prompt(s) - “not that i’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” & “don’t look at me like that.”

The diner buzzed with life as the typical early birds swung in and out, ordering their usuals and updating you on their grandkids and the stray cats they’d been feeding. The Sharpie smell stung your nose and you looked up from rinsing mugs to see Red working on his daily Sudoku. “How’s it coming, Red?”

He glanced up, scratching at his scruffy beard and pushing up his glasses. He waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll solve ‘em one of these days, (y/n), you just wait and see.” 

“Hey now,” your hands raised defensively, “I haven’t lost faith.”

Red muttered under his breath, “yeah, yeah,” and his concentration fell back to the newspaper in front of him. 

The bell jingled and you watched a few new faces stumble through the wooden green door, letting in a gust of salty ocean air in their wake. You put on your work smile and waved at them. “Hey, there! How can I help you guys?”

**

You were almost at the lunch rush, the most dreaded time of day. You watched the old white clock above the stove tick towards 12 and huffed. Only a few more hours and you’d be home free to cuddle with your cats or read on the beach. Maybe Calum would want to come.

While you were lost in your thoughts, a family walked through the door. You sped over to meet them, greeting them with a bright smile and positive attitude.

They followed you to the table in the corner up against the window. You quickly took their drink orders and left them menus before hurrying away to help the two new families that had arrived in that short minute. Within half an hour, the previously empty restaurant was at its full capacity, littered with families, senior citizens, teenagers and the homeless man, Corey, who you served lunch everyday. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead as you raced around tending to all the needy customers and trying your best not to snap at your boss who was yapping orders into your ear like you hadn’t been working there for a year already.

In the midst of the chaos, a certain brunette boy entered the restaurant under your radar and seated himself at the bar, waiting patiently for you to notice him. He watched as you put on that dimply, bright smile of yours and caught up with your favorite usuals. He admired you as you retied your apron around your waist and blew whispys out of your eyes. He practically drooled when you bit your lip in concentration and when you scrunched your nose while you laughed at something a little girl had said. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, you spotted Calum. With an annoyed heave and a dramatic eye roll, you made your way across the restaurant and practically threw a menu at Calum. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” You looked at him expectantly, impatiently tapping your fingers on the counter. Calum just looked amused. “Happy to see you too. Just thought I’d come visit my favorite employee while she worked.” 

You groaned. “Cal, I love you to death, but now's really not a good time to pester me at work. If you couldn’t tell, I’m kinda swamped. I have to pour 7 orange juices, grab 3 ice pitchers, table 8 needs a new fork, table 3 needs some more napkins, and I have 12 orders to bring out. So if you’ll excuse me, I gotta get back to it.” You gave his shoulder some passive aggressive pats and turned on your heel, heading for the kitchen. 

Cal smiled as he watched you leave. You were the hardest working person he knew and he adored that about you. He also tried his very hardest not to stare at your ass as you walked away. 

Calum sipped on a vanilla milkshake, helping Red with his Sudoku and picking at your coworker Jenny’s leftover fries as he waited for you to get off. He watched you scribble down orders and make vacationers in sunny little Waylon Beach feel welcome but he never got bored. You were enough to entertain him for hours.

Good old Red was appreciative of Calum’s help, but they still couldn’t finish the damn thing. So Red gave Calum a few strong pats on the back, almost knocking Calum off of his barstool, and ruffled the man’s hair, telling him “tomorrows a new day, son” and walking off whistling a tune Calum had never heard. 

Calum watched as the commotion died down around 3 and your shift finally ended. You tossed your apron over a nearby chair and plopped down next to Calum, laying your head on his shoulder. You couldn’t tell but Calum’s heart rate picked up. “You seem pretty beat. Need a ride home? Ash let me take his car into town today.” Calum’s arm reached up around you and settled on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

You hummed softly. “I’m starving, though. Do you think we could get something to eat first?” You looked up at him with those big doe eyes and he felt himself melting beneath them.

“If nothing here sounds good, what were you thinking?” Calum watched you put on that adorable thinking face. His hand itched to reach out and stroke your cheek. 

A smile suddenly broke out on your face, one that looked mischievous. Calum groaned because he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Aw, come on, not Joey’s! You know I threw up last time we ate there!” 

You picked your head up off his shoulder and laughed. “Maybe don’t order sushi at a burger place, dummy.” Calum couldn’t help but smile as you laughed at his misfortune.

“There’s no way I’m going back there. I was afraid I was gonna vomit up an internal organ.” You laughed again, throwing your head back. You were wearing the kind of smile that made the sun shine a little brighter. 

“Come on, Cal.” You rested your chin on his shoulder, dangerously close to Calum’s face. Your eyes sparkled in the fluorescent overhead lights and Calum found himself getting lost in them. “For me?” Your bottom lip stuck out and Calum sighed. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he begged, but your expression didn’t waver. Calum groaned and leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Fine. But if I get sick again, it's on you. You owe me free pie for life.”

You laughed and stuck out your pinky. “Deal.”

Calum reached out his pinky too, thinking you were too cute for your own good. 

You both stood up and you waved a quick goodbye to your coworkers, stepping out into the warm summer breeze and listening to the inviting chirps of the seagulls. Yeah, Waylon Beach was a small dead end town in South Carolina, but it was home to you and Calum.

You reached out and grabbed Calum’s hand, tugging him behind you down the street and Calum just watched you go on about the amazing burger you were gonna eat, wondering if he would ever gather up the nerve to tell you how he truly felt.

#luke #luke hemmings #luke 5sos #calum #calum hood #calum 5sos #michael #michael clifford #michael 5sos #ashton #ashton irwin #ashton 5sos #5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum 5 seconds of summer #5sos x reader #5sos x you #fanfiction #blurb #calum blurb #calum imagine #calum fanfiction #calum fluff #5 seconds of smut

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 10 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: omg HIIIIII hihihihihi i’m SO SORRY for the update gap fam, i started back at work and have been crAzy busy ever since! however i tried to make this chapter one that was worth the wait…….insert one thousand eye emojis if ya know what i mean. hope u enjoy!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

20th November 2020

Vanessa is giggling as Akeria sits with an enormous plastic bag of snacks in front of her on the hard plastic train table. She’s looking at them with the long-suffering eyes of a wearied mother, casting her hands over them as if she doesn’t quite know where to start. She finally picks up a bag of chocolate buttons, stands up in her seat and yells out into the train carriage.

“Okay, whose are the buttons?”

“Oh! Those are ours. Thanks, Kiki,” Jan stands up from the two-seater she’s got beside Jackie and behind Vanessa and Brooke, leaning forward over them to grab the snacks.

“Strawberry laces?”

“Mine!” Crystal cries happily, leaning over Gigi from the table seat they’re sharing with Jaida and Yvie opposite them. She snatches the sweets out of Akeria’s hand and follows it up with a thank you.

“Barbecue Pringles- wait, that’s Yvie’s,” Akeria immediately cuts herself off, leaning over the aisle of the carriage and handing Yvie the tube.

“I’m nothing if not predictable,” she shrugs, ripping off the plastic covering and the paper on top to grab a crisp and then offer one to her dance partner.

“Tangfastics?” Akeria yells out. There’s a pause where nobody claims them. Akeria gives a long-suffering roll of her eyes and yells a little louder. “Tangfastics?!”

Vanessa watches Monique give a jolt in the two-seater she’s sharing with Monet. “Shit, sorry Keeks, that’s ours!”

(Vanessa suspects that Monique’s delay in hearing her snack might be because of the way Monet’s got her hand resting on her thigh and had been whispering something to her moments before, but she’ll park that for now, use it to make fun of her at a later date.)

“God damn, stop gazin’ in Monet’s eyes for two whole seconds,” Akeria teases her, to a hoot of laughter from the other girls and a glare from Monique herself.

“Can’t help it that they’re so dark and intoxicating,” Monet pipes up with a dramatic gesture. Asia yells at her to shut up from over her headrest. A little further down the carriage, Vanessa can see a businessman shaking his head in despair.

“Gigi, that’s your fruit platter,” Akeria hands the tub across the aisle, already able to tell the model’s choice of snack. Vanessa silently takes the bags of Starbursts and chilli heatwave Doritos that she’d asked Akeria to pick up for her and Brooke respectively. “Whose are the Haribos?”

There’s another silence. Vanessa has to hold in her laughter at Akeria’s growing frustration. “Girls, I swear to Jesus, y’all cannot send me to the shop to grab all your motherfuckin’ snacks and then not claim ‘em! Who ordered the goddamn Haribos?!”

Asia blinks suddenly, looks up from her phone and tugs Akeria’s sleeve. “Bitch! Those are ours, we got them! Sit your dumb ass down!”

The girls all roar with laughter as Akeria sheepishly sinks back into her seat. Vanessa can’t help but give a little bounce in her seat from excitement because they’ve made it; she’s off to Blackpool with a girl that likes her back, her two best friends, and the rest of the dorks they’re sharing the competition with. They’ve got a Cha Cha Cha this week which they’ve practised, polished and perfected, and Vanessa can feel a little bite of excitement to the cold air which makes her think maybe…maybe this week it’s their time to get a few more tens and perhaps be top of the leaderboard this week. She’s confident, and she knows Brooke is too. They chatted through their thoughts about the week ahead when Vanessa walked Brooke to the tube station the night before, and her heart still gives a little excitable thud when Vanessa remembers the way they’d stolen a kiss in the dark just beside the entrance.

Whatever it is they are feels like one of the fairytales Vanessa used to watch when she was little on VHS tape, the ones she used to rewind the moment they were done to go all the way back to the start. She and Brooke are still focused on the competition obviously, so for now they’re still content with stealing kisses behind the scenes of It Takes Two, going for dates that aren’t really dates and are more mid-rehearsal lunches, long and lingering goodbye cuddles where Vanessa rests her head against Brooke’s chest and wishes she was going home with her instead of to her own empty flat. It’s nameless and exciting and a bit of a foray into the unknown, only Vanessa knows it’s not really so much of an unknown because she trusts Brooke, she knows she likes her back and how much she’s devoted to her. It’s the way Brooke nuzzles against Vanessa’s hair and mutters a compliment about how talented she is, or the way she’ll stop mid-kiss to just murmur about how beautiful Vanessa is against her lips, or the way she links their pinkies together midway through a rehearsal break and shyly comment on how lucky she is. It all makes Vanessa’s heart feel huge and light and fast in her chest, a helium balloon filled with butterflies.

“Guys! Train selfie!” Crystal cries suddenly, jolting Vanessa out of her daydream. Vanessa leans onto the middle of the table to squeeze herself into shot and yelps when Brooke tugs her back.

“You just totally Mike Wazowski’d me!”

“Oh like anyone could miss you in any photo, fuckin’ lil miss beanstalk bitch!” Vanessa teases her, the girls all laughing in response.

“So funny that half your fans think you’re datin’. You two fight like cat an’ dog on the daily,” Asia rolls her eyes and snorts. Vanessa feels her body spark with electricity as Brooke takes her hand under the table and squeezes it a couple of times in secret.

She feels guilty as she looks to Akeria who’s raising her eyebrows at her, still very aware of her crush. It’s not that Vanessa has kept things secret from her and Monique intentionally. It’s just that she and Brooke have been so wrapped up in each other and their rehearsals, not to mention the fact that they haven’t had a girls’ night in forever. Vanessa resolves to tell them this weekend, having to bite back a smile as she thinks about their potential reactions.

“Guys, get in the fucking selfie already! My arm is hurting!”

Vanessa leans back into Brooke’s chest and feels something in her ribcage blossom as Brooke puts her arms around her in a hug for the photo.

The train starts moving and all the girls give an excited squeal of delight which makes two old ladies a few seats down look at them all suspiciously. There’s a flash of recognition in their eyes after a second and their attitude changes, judgemental eyes becoming kind. Vanessa wonders if it will ever fully sink in that she’s ‘famous’, a public figure. Right now it just feels as if she’s going on some big mad girls’ weekend away with her second family and a girl she really fucking likes.

The evening is mostly taken up by the train ride, all the girls having rehearsed during the day and trundled their suitcases to the train when they were done. Yvie vlogs, Crystal and Gigi chatter excitedly, and Akeria and Asia bicker about who’s eaten the most buttons. Vanessa and Brooke for their part hold hands underneath the table, share little smiles that speak both volumes and a thousand words, and flirt just enough to make Vanessa’s heart beat out her chest but not enough to arouse suspicion. All the while they speed past towns that she’s never heard of and will never visit, blurs of green and grey shrouded in the dark of the Autumn night sky.

The train doesn’t go all the way to Blackpool so they have to change at Preston, which Vanessa knows nothing about other than the fact it’s got a train station. The girls find the platform for their connecting train and mill about, stopping once to take photos with an adorable little Strictly fan who can’t be more than eight years old. Vanessa chats away with her way more than the other girls do because the little girl’s dark hair, nut brown skin and huge brown eyes make her miss her own little cousins back in Puerto Rico. She asks her about school, and if she dances, and what she wants to be when she grows up.

When the girl replies, “a dancer like you”, Vanessa almost tears up.

She tells her not to give up on her dreams- because it’s what eight year old her would’ve needed to hear- and then waves her and her Mum goodbye. By the time she’s finished chatting and she turns back around, Brooke is waiting for her with a little smile on her face.

“What? What’s that look for?” Vanessa laughs a little. She wants nothing more than to wrap her arms around Brooke’s waist in a hug but the platform is busy and the other girls could see them.

“Nothing. Just you’re really cute with kids.”

Vanessa smiles bashfully, looks to the ground. When she looks up again Brooke has come a little closer to her. Vanessa pouts as she very gently threads the tips of their fingers together, the closest they can come to holding hands in public.

“I wanna kiss you so bad right now.”

“Let’s do it,” Brooke giggles quietly, a little sparkle in her eyes. “Let’s just start making out and watch how the girls react. Yvie would put it in one of her fucking vlogs.”

“Storytime- my Strictly co-stars just kissed?” Vanessa jokes, and Brooke wheezes a laugh which in turn makes the other girls turn round. Vanessa immediately drops their hands as Asia eyes them both with suspicion.

Brooke looks back at her and Vanessa can feel her pulse speed up at the adoration that’s in her eyes. “You look so good today, let me take a candid that’s not really a candid.”

“A plandid,” Vanessa shrugs back, then screws up her face. “I look like shit though. I sweated all my makeup off in rehearsal, my skin’s all dry from that train heater an’ I’m wearing sweatpants I’ve owned for six years.”

“Still cute though,” Brooke winks, and Vanessa tries to suppress a smile as she relents, shakes her hair out and looks down the platform. She’s surprised to find the train making its way up the tracks and after a second she leaps back, grabbing her suitcase and Brooke’s arm and yelling to the other girls.

It’s only when they’re on the train again when she gets an Instagram tag and realises that Brooke managed to take the photo, and she has to admit she doesn’t look too bad. She’s confused, though, when she sees what Brooke has captioned it.

bhytes: sls 🧡

Vanessa looks quickly at Brooke before tapping out a message to her.

V: what’s sls mean??? x

She watches Brooke’s reaction in real time as she receives the message. Her eyes widen a little and a pink blush appears on her cheeks, almost as if she’s been caught at something. Vanessa watches her fingers hover over the screen, typing against the air as she tries to figure out how to reply. Eventually, Vanessa’s phone buzzes again.

B: Oh I meant to type sis!!!! Silly typo x

Vanessa narrows her eyes- she’s not buying that for a second. Sure enough as she goes back to Brooke’s Instagram page there’s a small “Edited” beside her caption, and it now reads what Brooke had just told her she’d allegedly meant to type. Feeling a little guilty for snooping, Vanessa scrolls through the comments- there’s one from Yvie already, and another from Jackie, and some from Brooke’s friends and colleagues of course, but eventually she reaches the fans.

branjie2020: SHE EDITED IT IM-

strictlybranjie: Brooke we see u girl

brookelynnbites: not little mix secret love song…………

Intrigued, Vanessa looks up the lyrics and instantly she knows why Brooke had been shy with her. Now blushing herself, Vanessa puts her phone face down on the table and loses herself in thought. She thinks about the lyrics. Why can’t I say that I’m in love…it’s just a song, Brooke probably just meant the sentiment generally, but still. Vanessa can’t help but wonder if maybe they could make something of whatever it is that they are, a fling between two members of a TV show. Maybe they’ll be together when this is all over, and maybe…well. Vanessa hasn’t told anyone that she loves them like that since Kameron, and it would be a big deal if she said it to somebody else again. She’s not falling for Brooke yet; that would be ridiculous, especially given that they’ve not even so much as seen each other naked, but all Vanessa knows is that she really likes her, cares for her so much that it almost scares her, and whenever she’s around Vanessa feels as if she’s levitating.

Vanessa puts her jacket over her lap and wordlessly takes Brooke’s hand underneath it. She doesn’t miss the smile on Brooke’s face when she squeezes it reassuringly.

They all eventually reach Blackpool, the windy seaside weather and the sound of the seagulls greeting them as soon as they’re out of the train station. Their hotel isn’t far from the Tower Ballroom and Vanessa’s glad that they’re not staying at some run down B&B although the BBC, always eager to cut costs wherever they can, has booked them all in with each other in twin rooms. Vanessa isn’t mad about that. Admittedly after that moment they had in Brooke’s dressing room last Saturday she’s been thinking ever since about how she could engineer some form of sequel. She’s narrowed it down to finding an excuse to crawl into Brooke’s bed at night, bullshitting something about it being too cold in her own and how it would be so much warmer if they just slept together. That’s if she needs to be subtle, of course. Knowing how Brooke had practically slammed her against her dressing room door last week there’s probably not going to be much need for subtleties.

“I hope you don’t snore,” Brooke laughs, rolling her suitcase out of the lift and onto the carpet of the hotel corridors. Vanessa lets out an incredulous snort.

“Bitch! Do I seem like the kinda girl who snores? I’m insulted.”

“No, that’s true. I need to worry about you talking in your sleep instead. The loudest girl in the fucking cast,” Brooke laughs, Vanessa kicking a leg forward to knock Brooke’s suitcase off-balance as revenge. Even though it wobbles on its wheels, Brooke is undeterred. “I’m going to be trying to get to sleep and just as I think I’m drifting off all I’ll here is…AN’ FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT!”

“Shut up,” Vanessa giggles, giving Brooke a push as they both arrive in front of the hotel room door. Brooke presses the key card to the pad and walks in first, and Vanessa is too busy struggling with her case to gauge her reaction at first. That is until Brooke turns around from the spot she’s rooted to in the middle of the room.

“Oh.”

Vanessa frowns. She doesn’t really know why Brooke’s grown so awkward and quiet all of a sudden until she takes three steps forward and can see their room properly.

‘Oh’ is right. Because there, in the middle of their room, is a double bed. No, not double. King-sized, a king-sized fucking bed that’s probably the size of a small country village and is just for the two of them. All Vanessa’s plans go out the window because this is…new, and unknown territory. A quick makeout session in Brooke’s dressing room is one thing but the two of them haven’t even stayed over at either of their flats yet, they’ve never shared a bed in any context before. Vanessa bites her lip.

“Well…” Brooke says finally, trails off. Vanessa realises that she’s not going to finish her sentence.

“Um. I can go down and get ‘em to change it?” she offers, regretting it as soon as she’s said it because despite it all being new territory she’s not exactly opposed to it.

“No! No, it’s fine,” Brooke says- a little too quickly, Vanessa thinks, which causes her to suppress a smirk and try not to let her thoughts get carried away. “I mean, we’re both adults, it’s fine. Plus it’ll probably be comfier, right?”

“Yeah. Sure, right,” Vanessa nods and agrees, trying not to seem too eager.

It’s late by that point, so the pair of them unpack, trying to chat easily but the elephant in the room shaped like a king-sized bed is still very much present. Vanessa showers before bed and changes into her pyjamas, a little embarrassed at how scruffy her small black cami top and mid-length bottoms are. When Brooke comes back from her own shower, though, already changed into her pyjama set, Vanessa’s mouth dries up. She’s dressed in a matching set made up of a little pink satin shirt and shorts, the black cording at the hem of which is only drawing Vanessa’s eyes to Brooke’s thighs and not at all helping the bed situation.

Brooke clearly sees her looking and raises an eyebrow. “Cute, right?”

Vanessa snaps out of her daze. “What?”

“The pyjamas. They’re from like…Asos or Missguided or something? One of them,” she replies, hopping into bed and under the covers on the other side. Vanessa inches away from her a little, careful not to make their bodies touch because this is different to dancing and it’s not as simple as just being able to wrap her body around Brooke’s or make some stupid move because there’s no performance high or adrenaline or alcohol, it’s just…them. The pair of them in the same bed with the silence of the room surrounding them and the dark of the night outside hidden from view by the blinds Vanessa pulled down. As Brooke gives her a quick kiss and leans over to her side of the bed to turn the light off, she gives a quick look back to Vanessa.

“Night, babe.”

Vanessa gives a small, nervous smile back as she says goodnight. They shuffle under the covers to get comfortable and the silence falls again. Vanessa should say something, do something, reach out and take Brooke’s hand or lean in again. But everything is new and different and the time just isn’t right and she has no idea if Brooke even wants to go there with her yet, so instead she closes her eyes and attempts to sleep.

But in the morning, things are different. The moment Vanessa stirs she can tell there’s something in the air. She blinks open her eyes, the sun peeking through the slats of the blinds already too bright. That’s not it, though. That’s not what’s different.

And then as she gains a little bit more consciousness it hits her like a ton of bricks.

Brooke’s leg is thrown over her thigh, her arm around her waist, and her body is pressed up against hers. Vanessa feels a little tingle flash between her legs. For one thing, it’s cute that Brooke’s sought Vanessa out to cuddle during the night- whether she was asleep or awake for that decision Vanessa doesn’t know, but it’s nice either way. But on the other hand, Brooke’s little satin shorts have risen up to expose most of her thigh, and it’s not helping Vanessa think rationally right now.

Slowly, Vanessa starts tracing soft patterns on Brooke’s arm in a bid to wake her up: little figures of eight, then her name, then love hearts because if Brooke’s asleep she can’t work out that that’s what they are. Brooke’s leg shifts against her, and Vanessa can feel a heat against her thigh which she can’t decide whether or not helps or worsens the situation she’s in. Just then, she feels Brooke’s thumb give a little movement, a small stroke against the skin of Vanessa’s stomach where her cami top has risen up during the night. When her thumb moves again, Vanessa knows she’s woken up.

Neither of them have spoken yet and Brooke’s still stroking at her stomach, so Vanessa shuffles back in her arms just in case she’s still half asleep. She hears Brooke give a stifled yawn on the pillow behind her, hears her breathing shallow out. She’s awake, so Vanessa can take things up a gear. She moves her fingers from her arm to Brooke’s thigh, keeping her touch light and gentle as she traces a little patch of skin just at the outside. She feels Brooke shift against her in response, tries not to think too much about her thighs or what’s in between them because she knows she’ll overwhelm herself, flip round to straddle her and end up begging her to make her come apart. This moment is good. It’s gentle and tense all at once, the pair of them just touching and teasing each other, a mutual understanding even though nothing’s been said. This is different to last night- there’s no awkwardness, there’s no tentativeness, there’s just Brooke’s body wrapped around Vanessa’s and there’s only so many places that situation can lead.  

Vanessa feels Brooke press a small kiss to her shoulder blade and it makes her heart flutter, a hummingbird caged in her ribs. Brooke’s fingers trail a little higher to stroke under the material of her top and Vanessa feels herself melt. She wiggles in Brooke’s lap, knowing how it’ll drive her crazy given the amount of comments the girl’s made about how much she loves her ass and how completely obvious she’s made it. In response, Vanessa feels Brooke sigh against her neck, kissing it once, twice, three times.

Vanessa feels her resolve cracking so she traces a little higher on Brooke’s leg, decides to break the silence. She tries to keep the smirk out of her voice but it’s hard when Brooke bucks against her thigh again. “Good morning.”

Brooke gives a little whine against her neck which makes Vanessa press her thighs together, raising her own hips in an attempt to gain some sort of friction. “Morning.”

Vanessa presses her lips together in a suppressed smile, her next move falling into place in her head. “Y’know, I think I’m gonna get up an’ start gettin’ ready.”

“No,” Brooke whines, the arm around her waist pulling her closer, and Vanessa can hear the pout in her voice. She feels Brooke rub against her thigh again and it’s almost impeding her ability to think straight at this point.

She’s having fun winding her up though and she knows she’ll be able to have Brooke begging for her if she keeps it up, so she attempts to turn around a little to face her. She can’t really manage it, but she doesn’t mind too much. She just wants to see Brooke’s face when she delivers her next line, keeps her tone light and ever-so-slightly mocking. “Why not, boo?”

Vanessa decides to shuffle round, can hear Brooke whine in frustration now that she no longer has something to grind against. When she sees Brooke blushing, biting her lip with her hand now pressed between her thighs, it’s the hottest thing Vanessa has seen in probably years.

Brooke’s still not answered- instead she’s trying to shuffle close to Vanessa, presumably to kiss her, but Vanessa’s enjoying her moment of being in charge, so she lays her hand against Brooke’s chest to stop her and narrows her eyes. “Uh-uh. You gotta tell me why I shouldn’t leave this bed.”

Brooke only blushes harder, and Vanessa’s knocked for six. Brooke is actually shy. This confident, stone-cold goddess is getting embarrassed at the prospect of talking dirty to Vanessa in bed.

Vanessa’s brain is hotwiring.

“Don’t go quiet on me, princess,” Vanessa murmurs, bringing her other hand down to stroke at Brooke’s exposed skin again, this time against the visible strip of her inner thigh. “Can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“Please…kiss me, fuck-”

Brooke’s barely got the words out when Vanessa bridges the gap between them, meets Brooke’s lips with her own and kisses her softly and gently. She knows Brooke wants more, knows she’s getting herself worked up beside her but Vanessa’s enjoying having the power for now because knowing Brooke it won’t be long before she tries to take it back. When Vanessa pulls away Brooke is pouting, all disappointed that Vanessa’s lips are no longer on hers. Vanessa hears Brooke give a little gasp and then a whine as she takes her hand, the one Brooke’s grinding against, brings it out from between her thighs and places it by her side. There’s an unspoken rule between them that Brooke’s not allowed to replace it.

“Please, ‘Ness,” she pouts, and Vanessa would find it cute if her hands weren’t trailing up and down her waist. Brooke paws at her, needy and desperate, stops to rest her hands on her ass.

“You’re so polite. Such a good girl for me,” Vanessa praises her, kissing her pouty lips and delighting in the way Brooke moans against her. Vanessa strokes her hair with the hand she’s not propping herself up with and she can tell Brooke wants it somewhere else.

“Please,” Brooke says again, her eyelids heavy and her pupils blown. Vanessa feels herself give a small laugh.

“I don’t know what you want, baby.”

“You know what I want, fuck,” Brooke whines, her eyes fluttering closed. She thuds her head against the pillow in frustration, grabs at Vanessa’s ass in an attempt to pull her closer.

“You want me to touch you?” Vanessa murmurs, and Brooke nods her head frantically in response. She trails her hand down Brooke’s neck and down her chest, stops when she sees Brooke’s nipples poking through the satin fabric of her pyjama top. Vanessa bites her lip as she flicks her thumb against one, squeezes her thighs together for the hundredth time when she hears Brooke let out a moan. She teases her slowly and gently, can feel her own breathing deepening as Brooke writhes against the sheets. Brooke’s hand drifts from Vanessa’s ass to the waistband of her own shorts and Vanessa stops touching her, moving her hand to her wrist instead.

“You want me to just sit and watch you touch yourself? Sit here on the bed with you fuckin’ yourself with your fingers instead of letting me fuck you instead?” Vanessa asks her, making sure to keep a warning tone to her voice as she draws away. Brooke whines, instantly ripping her hand out from between her legs and pulling Vanessa close with it instead.

“No, baby, I’ll be good.”

“You gonna be good for me?”

“Uh-huh.”

Vanessa feels sorry for her at this point so she lies on her side against the mattress, tucks herself in beside Brooke and traces the skin just above the waistband of her shorts. Brooke is letting out a litany of whines as Vanessa inches her hand under the material, stops and presses a gentle finger against Brooke’s slit. Vanessa feels herself gasp as she feels how wet she is already, slick against her finger and dripping on the inside of her thighs.

“Fuck,” Vanessa whispers, leans in to kiss Brooke’s neck. She’s managed to find herself an actual Aphrodite and she’s never felt more religious in her life. She tilts her head as she slides a finger up to brush against Brooke’s clit, eliciting a gasp from Brooke who bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut. “What would people say if they knew that Brooke Lynn Hytes, confident, boss-ass, sex-on-legs bitch, turns into a lil’ whiny, bratty, needy princess when she wants to come so badly?”

“Vanessa, please,” Brooke practically sobs in response. Her hips lift high off the mattress as Vanessa rubs little circles against her. Vanessa desperately wants to feel how wet she is again but she’s wondering if she can wind her up even more, so she moves her lips up to whisper in Brooke’s ear.

“Remember when I sent you that message by accident?” Vanessa asks, her voice a low murmur. Brooke hisses in response and Vanessa sees her grab a fistful of the duvet.

“Shit, you know I got myself off to the thought of you lying in bed all wet and needy after you had that dream,” Brooke gasps out, and Vanessa’s eyes fly open in shock. If Brooke didn’t have her knees bent and propped up then she would probably straddle her thigh and try to ride it until she came because God, the idea that Brooke touched herself thinking about her in the morning and then came into the studios and acted as if it had never happened with her afterwards is just too much. Almost as a reward for the information Brooke’s just given her, Vanessa slides a finger inside her and hears Brooke moan in response.  

“Y’know you were the girl from the dream,” Vanessa drops her lips down to Brooke’s neck, kissing it hot and slow as she slides a second finger into Brooke and presses the rest of her hand gently against her clit. Brooke gives a gasp that’s almost sacrilegious.

Brooke is writhing beside her, frantic and desperate and frustrated and Jesus fucking Christ if Vanessa couldn’t just come from the sight of that alone. “Tell me. Tell me what happened.”

So Vanessa whispers in Brooke’s ear about how she’d kissed her, how Brooke had told her how much she’d wanted her, how Vanessa had begged her to touch her and how Brooke had got her off through her underwear, and she hears Brooke gasp and moan and whine in response to each new revelation. Vanessa fucks her gently with her fingers and Brooke is so wet around her that it’s sending her into a frenzy herself. Suddenly, Vanessa has an idea.

“And you told me you thought I would taste good,” Vanessa tells her, tipping her head up a little to gauge Brooke’s reaction.

“Fuck…want to taste you so bad,” Brooke pleads.

All her shyness seems to be gone now that she’s riding Vanessa’s fingers desperately, and even though Vanessa thought shy Brooke was cute, this version of Brooke- the Brooke that knows what she wants, the Brooke that’s loud and vocal and messy- is her favourite. Vanessa gently removes her hand from between Brooke’s legs, ignoring the nearly apocalyptic whine Brooke lets out in response to the lack of contact, and takes Brooke’s hand from where it’s still digging into the duvet. Vanessa shifts a little, spreads her own legs as she guides Brooke’s hand between them, and her heart is almost beating out of her chest as Brooke eagerly brushes two fingers over her, hears her gasp as her fingers slide up her slit easily from how wet she is.

Brooke’s fingers feel like heaven as they push softly inside her, pumping gently, and Vanessa’s moan is cut off by Brooke’s lips against hers. Brooke’s kisses are slow and wet and she teases Vanessa’s tongue with her own as Vanessa bucks her hips underneath her. For a moment, her plan to make Brooke come is thrown into disarray as she thinks maybe she could just lie here and let Brooke tease her and finger her until she does instead.

“Oh my fuckin’ God you feel so good,” Vanessa whispers out in one breath, the way she sounds so broken already making her blush and bite her lip. Brooke’s gaze is dark- she’s watching the way Vanessa bucks her hips up to meet her fingers as they slide out of her, greedy and desperate just like Brooke had been.

“So wet and I never even touched you,” Brooke whispers, the little bit of awe in her voice sending Vanessa into the stratosphere. “You got this worked up over me?”

“You should see how good you look when you wanna come so bad,” Vanessa murmurs back, turning to watch as Brooke takes her fingers and wraps her lips around them, slides them into her mouth and sucks on them.

Every single time Brooke does something new Vanessa thinks it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever seen, so the fact that Brooke’s no longer touching her isn’t helping at all. Brooke’s a goddess though and she wants to worship her properly so Vanessa leans over her, doesn’t even bother trying to manoeuvre around the waistband of Brooke’s shorts this time and instead just trails her fingers up Brooke’s inner thigh, moves the material to one side and teases her again with her fingers. She rubs gently against Brooke’s clit and can hear her breathing coming in short gasps, knows she’s close so Vanessa kisses her, deep and fiery and hot, then murmurs against her lips as Brooke’s hisses and whines get increasingly louder.

“You know once you come I’m gonna let you do whatever you want to me.”

Brooke gasps and Vanessa watches her eyes roll back into their sockets. “Fuck, I’m gonna get you back for teasing me so fucking bad you won’t be able to sit right for a week never mind fucking dance- ah!”

Brooke’s reacted to Vanessa pulling her hand away. Vanessa’s making sure her eyes are dark, giving Brooke a warning. “Is that trash talk, or are you gonna be good for me?”

“Please, Vanessa!” Brooke nearly yells into the room, and Vanessa thinks that perhaps she’s put the poor girl through enough so she replaces her fingers, works Brooke’s clit until she’s gasping beside her, little shudders racking her body.

“‘Ness, I’m gonna- ah!”

As Brooke comes, Vanessa crashes their lips together, and the sound of Brooke’s muffled whines gives her a better high than any drug ever could. When she’s sure Brooke’s finished Vanessa leans back against the mattress, exhausted. Her left side is practically numb from propping herself up, her neck is tense and her right hand is aching but fuck if that hadn’t been the best sex of Vanessa’s life and she hasn’t even come yet.

“You good?” Vanessa asks Brooke once she’s got her breath back. Brooke is on her back, her eyes wide and staring up to the ceiling, her hair plastered all over her face and her chest shiny with sweat. Vanessa watches as she moves her mouth once, twice, trying to come up with something to say and failing.

“I don’t have any words,” she finally says, and Vanessa bursts out laughing beside her. Brooke giggles, then suddenly scowls, reaches behind her head for her pillow and thumps Vanessa with it.

“Hey! What the fuck was that for?”

“You were so mean!” Brooke half-pouts, half-laughs and she leans over Vanessa, cages her in with her arms. Even after sex she still looks incredible in her pyjamas, and Vanessa finds herself rubbing her thighs together, trying and failing to find something to rut against. Brooke obviously notices this and Vanessa watches the little flash in her eyes as she grabs Vanessa’s wrists, pins them above her head in one swift motion.

Vanessa almost dissolves.

“You know I’m used to being in charge, right? That was very out of character for me,” Brooke cocks an eyebrow at her. Vanessa smirks back at her, anticipation building low in her stomach at the thought of Brooke bossing her around and roughing her up a little.

“Well then maybe you need to put me in my place.”

When Brooke straddles her, leans down and meets her lips in a kiss, Vanessa feels as if she’s made entirely of embers and flames. She pulls away and Vanessa realises that she’s tugging her pyjama bottoms off so Vanessa brings her knees up to her chest to help make things easier. Once they’re off Vanessa’s heart crashes against her ribcage as Brooke takes her legs and spreads them apart quickly, her palms holding Vanessa’s thighs down. As Brooke leans between her thighs Vanessa tangles one hand in her hair, her heart rate rising in anticipation as she feels herself throb. She waits for the contact of Brooke’s tongue, tipping her head back against the pillow.

It doesn’t come. Instead, she hears Brooke’s voice.

“You know, maybe I’m tired now after you played with me so much earlier. Maybe I just need to go back to sleep.”

Vanessa brings her head back up in shock and looks at Brooke’s face. She’s got a glint in her eye and a smug smile on her lips and Vanessa has never wanted to kiss the smirk off her face more. As much as she thinks the girl is a goddess, there’s no way she’s giving her what she wants that easily. “Uh-uh. I ain’t beggin’ you, Brooke.”

Brooke raises her eyebrows lazily, lightly scratches her nails down the insides of Vanessa’s thighs and in turn making her rapidly regret her last comment because she knows she’s going to be yelling Brooke’s name in probably a matter of minutes once she puts her mouth on her. “That’s some awfully big talk from someone who moments ago was trying to grind against air.”

“But I know you wanna feel how wet I am an’ hear what I sound like when I���m about to come,” Vanessa whispers, bucking her hips up because Brooke’s touching every little bit of her except the place she needs the contact most and it’s starting to kill her very slowly. “You want me ridin’ your face.”

Vanessa sees Brooke blink slowly, the composure and power she’s just built up wavering just a little. Then she makes eye contact again, presses kisses up Vanessa’s inner thigh that make her feel as if she’s burning up.

“Yeah,” Brooke murmurs against Vanessa’s skin, punctuating her sentence with kisses. “But I also know that I want to hear you beg me for it, and you’re not going to come until you ask me nicely.”

“Fuck,” Vanessa whines, letting her head thud against the pillow. She regrets teasing Brooke so badly. Actually she doesn’t at all, but her behaviour is coming back to bite her and it’s not fun. She’s shocked into a gasp as Brooke licks up her slit, the contact gone almost as soon as it’s there. “Brooke, baby, c’mon, this ain’t fair.”

“Is it not? I think it’s perfectly fair,” Brooke laughs softly and traces patterns into her inner thighs that make Vanessa want to scream. “I had to be a good girl for you, now you have to be one for me.”

“Honestly you could be doing whatever you want to me right now an’ all you want is for me to say fuckin’ please?” Vanessa hisses, frustrated and incredulous and ready to fucking explode.

“I want you to be good for me. Good girls use their manners.”

As if to drive her point home Brooke kisses up her thigh and then licks against her again, too much and not enough all at once. Vanessa needs Brooke’s mouth and her tongue and her lips and so her resolve cracks all too quickly like a sheet of ice.

“Okay, okay, okay, God fucking damn it…please, Brooke.”

“Can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what it is,” Brooke replies instantly. The bitch is using Vanessa’s own words against her for her own gain and it’s infuriating Vanessa as she bucks her hips in the air, writhes against the mattress.

“Want you to use your mouth, fuck, please.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

All at once Vanessa feels as if she’s been shot out of a cannon because when Brooke’s tongue finally licks at her clit slowly and gently Vanessa thinks she’s ascending to heaven at about a million miles per hour. When Vanessa brings her hand back to tangle in Brooke’s hair, Brooke takes her wrist and holds it down with one hand, putting her even more in control. Vanessa can still use her hips though and she does exactly what she said she was going to do- rides Brooke’s face as her tongue brings her closer and closer to the edge and makes her even more wet than she’d been in the first place. Vanessa would probably feel embarrassed at how much she’s writhing and whining and moaning underneath Brooke if her mouth didn’t feel so fucking perfect, and with every flick and swirl of her tongue Vanessa feels more and more like a raging fire that needs to be put out.  

“Brooke Lynn, fuck, you’re gonna make me fuckin’-”

Brooke’s nails dig into her thighs as Vanessa comes with a loud cry, the blaze burning her up finally extinguished. Vanessa sinks back into the pillows and Brooke simply relaxes with her head against Vanessa’s stomach. It makes her wish that they could just spend all day in their hotel room and learn each other’s bodies, figure out everything the other likes in the space of a single day.

“Wish we didn’t have to get up,” Brooke sighs against her skin, presses a kiss to her stomach which makes it flutter. Vanessa smiles lazily, laces their fingers together which makes Brooke smile in turn. Brooke’s voice is soft as she keeps talking. “So was that, um…good? For you?”

Vanessa starts giggling, gives Brooke a gentle kick with her foot. “Jesus, dare you to sound any more like a 19 year old boy who just lost his virginity.”

Brooke gives an offended cry, plants her lips to Vanessa’s stomach and blows a giant raspberry against her skin that makes her howl with laughter and curl in on herself like a woodlouse.

Vanessa fights through her laughter. “Oh my God okay, okay! I’m sorry. Of course it was good, fuckin’ amazing. The whole fuckin’ buildin’ prolly knows how good it was, think I damn near yelled the place down.”

“Not entirely great for the whole keeping-us-on-the-down-low thing, though.”

“I guess you’d know, havin’ just spent a decent amount of time on the down low,” Vanessa wiggles her eyebrows and causes Brooke to yelp a laugh.

Charmed by the other woman’s reaction, Vanessa gently slides herself out from underneath her and steals the duvet to wrap around herself as she crosses the short distance to the window and pulls the string on the blinds to open them up. She smiles as she’s greeted by the seafront view: the sea icy but blue under the sunny November sky, the golden sand of the beach, the little rattle of the tram that’s making its way along the waterfront. The smile is still on Vanessa’s face as she turns to take in the sight of Brooke still splayed out on the mattress. She’s got that post-sex glow with the light hitting her toned skin and her hair all messed up around her face like a scribble of a halo.

Vanessa feels a tug on her heart, a longing even though she knows Brooke is hers.

“Welcome to Blackpool, baby. Let’s get those tens.”

#rpdr fanfiction #ortega #bet you look good on the dancefloor #strictly au #lesbian au #smut #branjie #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #akeria davenport #asia o'hara

[tinyhwng]

Stray Kids Reaction to you accidentally calling them “baby”

—genre; fluff x100

—msg; idk i just thought of this. also i got really invested and made hyunjin and everyone after just a bit more longer than the rest.(you can tell lmao)  anyways, enjoy!

______

Chan

it was late and you asked your bf to toss a hair tie to you

“baby can you toss me that”

you didn’t realize what you said until you saw the giggling mess your boyfriend was in

“baby huh?”

you immediately retract your statement and ask for him to forget that you had said anything

still teases you

you sigh and turn your back on him

he comes and turns the chair back towards him

“i’m sorry, are you mad?— i mean i’ve been meaning to call you that too”

now you’re the giggling mess

he smiles and admires the image of you laughing

“baby it is then”

“it’s time for bed, babygirl”

read the rest of the members under

Woojin

your relationship was still fresh and new

only calling each other by a syllable of each other’s name

you just happened to slip up this one time you asked for a drink

he was getting up to get snacks from the kitchen during your movie night

“woo, baby can you get me something cold from the fridge?”

he left without a problem, only realizing it as he grabbed the drink from the fridge

he makes his way back, going back to cuddling session yall had

“i liked the sound of that”

“sound of what?”

“baby.”

your face in shock, realizing you had slipped up

“ahaha... forget that.”

“what no, y/n- i mean, baby it was cute.”

you hide your face, blushing uncontrollably as he gives you a big squeeze

“please, keep calling me that.”

Minho

you were whipped for him 24/7 but that was nothing new

however, sometimes, you were just a little too whipped

you were watching him play with his cats and words just naturally came out of you

“omg, baby you look cute”

he turns to you, his eyes widening in shock

“y/n that’s disgusting” he teased

your own words flustered you, pressing your hand over your lips to keep it sealed

“i literally didn’t mean to say that-”

he jumps on you, cradling you

“no i was kidding.” 

his face also red from blushing

“i was thinking of names i could call you but baby sounds perfect.” he gives you multiple smooches, reassuring you that he liked it.

“you’re my baby and these are our babies” he laughs, pointing at his cats.

Changbin

he thinks you’re the most hilarious person in the world

after him of course

he just laughs or smiles at anything you say

but of course, you also found some of his jokes extremely hilarious

he makes a joke and it got your WHOLE ass quaking

bitch u couldn’t breathe

“shit, baby that was priceless-”

“fuck”

you turn to him, his face red visibly heating up

“let’s forget i just said that”

“eeeeee”

inhuman noises idk

“what? no, say it again”

he pleads, his face scrunching up in anticipation

“b-baby”

“oh em gee. call me that from now on. “

“bin-”

“it’s BABY!”

Hyunjin 

babying your boyfriend was your favourite job

you were tiny compared to him 

still, he was your BIG baby

but one time, you were in the mood to be babied instead

you wanted for his attention, his mind attentive to his phone as he watched his live performance

having one earphone on, he was too distracted to attend to you

you were gonna call him how you always did when u babied him but your tongue wanted otherwise

“baby~”

he takes a look at you, removing his earphone right away

“I didn’t catch that, y/n. what did you say?” he said, a big smirk painted across his face

you shake your head, pretending what happened never occurred

“i don’t know what you’re talking about-”

as you tried to leave to fix yourself, he tugs you back 

you fell into his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist

“i’ve always wanted to hear that from you.”

your flustered ass tried to avoid his gaze, feeling humiliated 

“i tried to say jinnie, i swear-”

“no, no more jinnie. baby is my name now.”

he pulls your face to look at his

“you have my attention now, baby.”

Jisung

you were watching him perform once

it wasn’t your first time but you were too invested to control yourself

the whole crowd was screaming so you were screaming along

not that you planned to do so

but he was asked to do some cute things and immediately after the crowd went wild

your voice was too distinctive for him to not notice though

“LET’S GO! THAT’S MY BABY!” you screamed, practically at the top of your lungs

jisung stopped midway his speech, laughing to himself hearing your voice loud and clear

after the show ended you met him backstage

he zoomed into your embrace telling him how proud u were

“can you say that thing again?” his eyes pleaded

“what thing?”

“the thing- what you were screaming earlier”

“let’s go, that’s my-” your face shift in realization

“ahhh, y/n, continue it” he whined

you hide your face, too embarrassed to say it

“ok i’ll do it then, baby. baby y/n, let’s go see the boys now”

you nod, sticking beside him he guided you to the room

“my baby is so cute.”

Felix 

constantly talking to you or talking about you theres no in between 

whipped™

he was overseas for a tour so you guys resorted to facetiming every night

it’s been almost a whole week without him and you were m i s s i n g him

 two different timezones,  he called you while it was night where he was

you could tell he was exhausted but he called you anyways

“lix, you should go and rest”

he murmurs a no, his voice getting deeper as time passed

you were running out of options to get him to rest and you didnt wanna just end the call cause it would upset both you and him

as you were calling him by his nicknames, your brain couldn’t keep up with what you were saying

lets just say mistakes were made

he jolts up immediately, screaming for your attention

“baby? is that what you call me now?”

“wait felix, no, i didn’t mean to.”

he mocks you, repeating what you said multiple times

“lix, i just wanted you to go to sleep” “my day just got a whole to better because of that”

you sigh, watching him from your phone failing to hold your smile

“i’ll go rest now if that’s what you want,” he pauses, giggling. “baby.”

“ahhh go to sleep~” you whined

“goodnight, baby”

Seungmin

seungmin wasn’t the type of person who was interested in pet names

well actually he just never mentioned it 

to you, he was more of a skinship guy

holding hands, cuddling, soft kisses, etc

there was some nights you both just expressed your current concerns with one another 

such a great relationship tbh

he was talking about his concern about the new comeback, afraid he might disappoint people

he was just hard on himself like that 

you reassured him though. telling him anything he does would never disappoint you or others

he got all blushy and giggly at your comment

your gaze fixed onto his smile, his face just a few inches from yours

“you’re so cute, baby”

his eyes expanded, turning to you

“oh crap. sorry, i didn’t mean to say that. you were just really cute” you explained

“well- i actually like it though”

“what? i thought you didn’t like pet names”

he gave you a confused look, “i never said i didn’t like them and now that i heard it from you, how could i ever hate them?”

you blushed at his comment, not knowing how to answer

“please call me that, i like it”

Jeongin

jeongin, the nation’s baby 

you always wonder to yourself how lucky you were to be a part of his life

so every second of the day you tell him how much you love him

you only called each other by your first names, never really going past that

you were going home from the dorms one night before your tongue decided to go against you

“bye, baby- i mean, jeongin” you hugged him goodbye hoping he didn’t notice your slip up

welp, good news buddy, he did

he gave you a light squeeze, refusing to let you go “wait y/n, don’t go yet” he whined

your face flushed red from embarrassment knowing it was too late to take it back now

“jeongin, i gotta go home. you have an early schedule tomorrow too”

“do you expect me to let you go after calling me that?” you can feel him giggling in your embrace 

“say it again, please, then i’ll let go”

you were defeated by his gentle yet desperate voice

“okay,” you exhaled, “baby- i gotta go now”

he squeezed you one last time before letting you go with a satisfied smile on his face

“aha! i made you say it. please say it more to me now”

you wave him goodbye as you made your way out

“bye, baby! text me when you get home”

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan #stray kids chan #kim woojin #stray kids woojin #lee know #stray kids minho #stray kids changbin #seo changbin #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #stray kids jisung #lee felix #stray kids felix #kim seungmin #stray kids seungmin #yang jeongin #stray kids jeongin #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids ff #kpop #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

[kennakat02]

Hey guys! This is my first fanfic so it's probably trash I based it off of a prompt I found on Pinterest. But I hope y'all like it!!

I was awoken from a peaceful sleep when I heard the sound of what sounded like a cat trying to cough up a hairball coming from somewhere in the compound. Deciding the sound was interesting enough to investigate, I decide, being the curious person I am, to find the source of the ungodly noise. After pulling my self out of bed and pulling on a black robe, I found myself following the noise until I finally found myself in front of the door of my boyfriend, otherwise known as Bucky Barnes. Slowly I knocked on the door and got no answer, assuming he was asleep I started to walk away I considered the possibility of the noise to be a stay cat that some how wandered into the compound. As I was starting to convince myself that it was just a stay and was heading back to my room to maybe get some shut eye I heard groans of discomfort coming from inside the room. Now knowing I was not in fact going crazy I turned around and knocked once more " Bucky, you okay in there?" I ask opening the door slightly to hear better. Not getting any response made me worried so I did what any concerned girlfriend would do, I walked in and firstly spotted a empty bed with blankets and pillows thrown everywhere. After looking around I noticed that the only source of light was coming from the bathroom, "you okay in there?" I ask as I walk closer to the door, as I approached the door the groans of discomfort got louder. I noticed the door was ajar and you could nearly see one whole side of the room. Walking slowly into the restroom I lightly knocked and heard a small groan in response. "Buck I'm coming in okay" I say in a soft voice. "Yeah, I just...." he never got to finish his sentence because thats when the noise the you heard returned, it turns out to be him dry heaving. Now completely conserned about his well being I opened the door fully and saw a very pale and sweaty super solider curled up on the ground beside the toilet. Seeing this I first went over to the cabinet beside the door and grabbed two wash cloth then walked over to the sink to wet one of the rag with Lukewarm water. Moving from the sink I kneeled down next to him and handed the wet rag to him. With a shaky non metal hand he grabbed the rag and wiped his face with it. "Buck are you okay,do you need anything?" I ask while helping him up and to the sink so he could brush his teeth. "No,I think I'm fine now" he says before turning around to walk out of the bathroom.

Now walking out of the bathroom and to the bed was a slight struggle. "Are you sure your okay?" I ask softly knowing he doesn't feel grate. In a low voice he responded "No...I'm fine I just need to lay down". Knowing he's not going to omit he's sick I offer to stay the night, "do you need me to stay the night?" I ask while fixing the blankets so they aren't thrown everywhere. He shakes his head and turns over to possibly get some sleep. "Oka, but you have my number so if anything changes don't hesitate to call me" I tell him while I walk to the door.

~Time Skip to the Next Morning~

I woke to the sound of my phone ringing on my bed side table and with a sigh and rolled over to answer it thinking it was Tony calling to bug me again.  "Hello.." I answer still not fully awake "(Y/N) I think I'm dying" Bucky said in a sickly voice. I groan with a small laugh mixed in "buck I dont think your dying you just have a cold but I'll meet you in your room in five minutes" I say still slightly giggling. I hung up the phone and sat up, deciding that I'm not get dressed I pull on a pair a pajama pants and start to gather supplies that I needed which included: movies,blankets,and most importantly medicine.

As I walked into the dimly lit room I saw a lump laying inside a cocoon of blankets. Maneuvering my way to the bed was not hard but getting Bucky to sit up was a different story. "Hey sweetie, can you sit up for a minute and take this medicine and then you can lay back down." I say as my motherly side came out. With a groan he sat up and took the meds out of my hand then gulped down half a water bottle.  Then he did something I did not expect he grabbed my arm and pulled me down onto the bed with him and laid his head in my lap and clung to my waist. "Well someone is clinging today" I say to myself while running  my fingers through his hair. luckily for him everyone was out on a training mission because if not I would have probably already fought someone. I pulled a blanket over him and started a movie on my laptop. A few minutes passed and I noticed he had fell asleep seconds later he moved in his sleep then woke up and said "I think I'm dying". "Sweetie like I said  this morning, you're not dying it's just a cold." I say while running my fingers through his hair "I promise you are not dying". Just as I convinced Bucky he was in fact not dying my phone started basting Steve's ringtone. "Hello?" I said trying not to disturb the sleeping assassin on my lap. "Hey (Y/N) is there any way you can come and help on this mission?" He asks slightly out of breath "Sorry steve I can't I have a feverish and clingy assassin on my lap," I say while looking down "I'll call you back when I've convince him a cold doesn't mean he's dying." I say with a laugh.  " Ok tell 'em I hope he feels better and we'll be back in about two days" and with that he hung up.  After the movie was over I woke Bucky up and told him that he had to take more medicine because he still had a fever.

~Time skip to the next day~

The next day I woke to a sleeping bucky curled up next to me, but I didn't get to admire him for to long because a pain in my stomach had me up and into the bathroom within seconds. "Looks like it's my turn to take of you" I turn to look at a smirking super soldier leaning against the door with a wet rag and a glass of water in his hand. "Not funny" I say as I shakily get up and start walking to the sink then to bed. but before I got halfway to the bed I got picked up bridal style and carried the rest  of the way "Now stay here and cuddle because I still dont feel 100% and you are running a fever." And with that I drifted off to peacefull sleep cuddled into the chest of the man I love.

#bucky barnes #the avengers #fanfic #winter solider imagine

[sw124]

[Lamia-Bitty Daily Life!5]

{Entitled People/Entitled Parents}

Hello all my lovely Lamia lovers! I’m back with another story about people who suffer from acute stupidity and self entitlement! And the spawn they produce of course, we call them ‘entitled people’ or if they have kids ‘entitled parents’ an we all know how it goes when dealing with them.

First off let me tell you that I found out something interesting about my boys, I found Chip when he was injured and adopted Dante after. I came to a pleasant surprise both of them are Full Sized Lamia’s. I’m not complaining, Chip is the size of a loving house cat and Dante is the size of your standard dog [between Labrador or Spaniel]. An to me...that is heaven, they sorta miss being able to hide in my bra but Chip always likes to crawl under my shirt.

[Get your heads out of the gutter he does this for warmth and comfort]

They make the best cuddle buddies ever!

Reason I bring this up is its apart of the story, so like I said their Full Sized Lamia’s. Going out can be a bit more challenging now since their so big but lots of places allow Lamia’s as long as they’re miniature or at least 30in. I normally take them to my favorite restaurant but this particular day I had a surprise for them.

I called and had booked an appointment to have our pictures taken, a friend of mine works at a nice little studio. I gathered some nice clothes to change in an out of and some stuff for my boys, gag glasses and funny stuff for Chip and a few really nice things for Dante.

[I found the most cuties vests and ruffled shirts, one has this Cafe owner look while another screams European gentlemen EEE my dashing little Firering!]

So we get there and are taken to a changing room, I get Chip into something casual yet dressy. A nice short sleeve button down shirt with a dark blue jacket, you know the kind that casual bosses wear. I had Dante in the Cafe owner outfit, think Brewster from Animal Crossing new leaf. I got myself into a Pinafore with green clovers all over it and some white leggings underneath.

Now I’m lazy an I don’t do hair and makeup well, I keep my hair cut short in a inverted bob and wear little to no makeup. It was nice of my friend who have their stylist do my makeup.

[don’t know if he was flirting with me or just trying to make me feel good but he said ‘I can see why you don’t wear make up, you really don’t need it.’ ^///^]

So we pick our backdrops and everything and start taking pictures, my boys were just having so much fun, Chip enjoyed wearing his ‘Groucho’ glasses in some of them and Dante is a natural in front of a camera.

We just changed for a more serious ‘family portrait’ picture when a man walks in, behind him are his teenage daughter and his wife. They were dressed in very nice clothes and I assumed they were there for some kind of family picture, I refocused on trying to fix Chip’s shirt when all of a sudden...it started.

[our cast EF: Entitled Father, EM: Entitled Mother, ET: Entitled Teenager. The others are obvious]

EF: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUR BOOKED?!

Receptionist: I’m sorry sir but like I said we are booked for today, our only opening is next week at 5pm if you-

EF: No, I came here to get my daughter her modeling pictures done and we’re going to get them done!

Now here’s where I start getting nervous, I wanted to grab my boys and run cause of my last experience with one. But I had to keep calm and just tried to focus on the picture, Chip is on my lap while Dante was behind me. He was hugging me while Chip rested his head on my chest, they were just trying to keep me calm. I couldn’t help but smile....

[An the photographer captured that moment an its now a picture I have]

She had just snapped a few more pictures of us in that pose when I noticed the mother, she was sauntering over to me.

EM: Excuse me [fake ass tone] when are you gonna be done, my daughter is going into modeling and we need to get some pictures done.

Me: ...I just have two more pic’s to do.

EM: Oh good!

She turned an I heard her mutter some comment about my weight, I may be chubby but at least I have my self respect. I take my boys into the changing room for our last set of pictures when I came out the teenage daughter had perched herself right where we were sitting for our pictures.

Photographer: Ma’am we’re still in the middle of a shoot please move.

ET: The cow left dingus just take the pictures!

I roll my eyes, obviously she was referring to me. I didn’t let the comment get to me, I turn to my friend and I’d wait till the little brat was gone.....then she spots my boys.

ET: Hey cow you done with those two?

Me: ...excuse me?

ET: Those two [points to those boys] you done with them, I’d like them to be in the pictures.

Me: No their ‘my’ pets, not props.

ET: Do I look like I give a f*ck?

Me: No you look like a spoiled whore who doesn’t know the value of hard work and only see’s modeling as a way to gain more attention for your already sad and miserable existence.

Needless today the room was so quiet a pin dropping would have sounded like an atomic bomb going off. My friend was holding back a laugh, I was getting impressed looks from everyone in the room, minus the parents of course. The father stormed over to me but before he could get close to me the photographer stopped him.

Photo: Sir you need to leave, if you don’t this studio will have no choice but to call the police and have you removed.

EF: No that bitch needs to leave!

Me: [gently pulls photographer back and whispers] I’ll leave for a lunch break, we’ll finish when they leave.

Photo: [nods]

I go into the changing room and get changed, my boys do to. We were heading for the exit but sure enough EF was blocking it.

EF: Where do you think your going?

Me: Out

EF: Not with them your not [he points to my boys.]

Now I’m at my wits end, I turn to the Receptionist and ask her to call the cops. She reaches for the phone and starts to dial, fake dialing of course.

EF: What the hell?!

He races to the Receptionist to stop her, I take the chance to escape with my boys. We got into my car just in time as EF starts chasing after us, of course I was already driving down the street by that time. My boys were frazzled but unharmed, this was the first time I ever seen Dante get so angry. He was in the back seat crackling up a storm while Chip was flicking his tail.

[he looks cute when he’s mad, arms crossed but when he starts gnashing his teeth...yeah..]

I settle them down by taking them to our favorite restaurant to cool off, it was practically empty so that was a plus. We sat there for an hour an drove down to a local bookstore an shopped for another hour, we drove back to the studio and thankfully the family from hell was gone. Turns out the police really had to be called, after our escape the father went mental and started yelling and even threw one of the more expensive camera’s breaking it.

We got the rest of our pictures taken in peace, ending on a high note another family came in with two small kids, they had booked their appointment and what made it cute was they had a 18month old boy, a 2 year old girl and a Papython!

I had to stay and watch, it was so freaking adorable! I talked with the parents and we bonded over our love of Lamia’s. They named their Lamia Scooter, the wife said they came up with that name cause when they went to adopt him he ‘scooted’ right up to them.

Sure had to run into some entitled people but at least it ended nice.

[For information on Lamia’s please contact @vex-bittys for adoptions]

#fanfic #undertale

[themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy]

smth abt the reader being a cat animagi and sirius finding out like a bit after theyre dating JDDHSK SMTH FUNNY AND CUTE PLS THANK U

Masterlist

Join my Taglist

Prompt lists

Ship Request Guidelines

The amount of times that he’d walked into his room to find the little calico kitten lounging on his bed was almost unable to be counted. He’d coo at the kitty, scooping her up and smiling when she rubbed her cheeks on his own.

For a dog person, he really was a cat person.

Today though, he followed you, his girlfriend, into his dorm while under the invisibility cloak. He’d seen you make a beeline for his dorm room but he knew for a fact that no one was in there, and he knew that you knew that too. So what were you doing in there?

He watched in absolute amazement as you shed your bookbag, tucking it behind his bed so that it wasn’t visible from the doorway, sitting on his bed before your entire body shifted, morphing into that of the little kitten’s. 

He cursed himself for being so stupid, of course it was you. Because he himself was a dog animagus, he’d acquired a rather heightened sense of smell. He’d smelled cat on you every time he caught a whiff of your scent but just assumed you had one as a pet at home, or that one of your roommates’ cats had snuggled with you during the night.

But of course, you were incredibly bright and you never failed to amaze Sirius, he should have known that you had something so difficult under your belt.

Your cat eyes blinked open, focusing directly on the space where Sirius was underneath the cloak. He hadn’t remembered reading anything about cats being able to see under invisibility cloaks? Your little nose and ears twitched and he had the urge to coo, but refrained so that he didn’t give himself away.

You transformed back to your human self, walking right at the doorframe as Sirius stumbled to quietly exit the room. You reached out a hand, grasping at the cloak and tugging it off of his head.

“Spying isn’t nice Sirius.”

“Neither is tresspassing.” He smiled, grabbing your wrist and bringing you in to rest in his arms.

“How come you never told me?”

“Dunno. But it was fun to make you think that I was a real cat, you fed me and pet me so much.” You gave him a grin that made a bark of laughter break from his throat.

“You’re a cute kitty Y/N, but how are we supposed to keep dating if I’m a dog animagus? Cats and dogs don’t get along!”

“Well, we’ll continue how it’s always been. I’m the boss, just like how dogs always end up giving in to cats.”

“Hey!”

Taglist: @knowledgeisthebomb @moonyswolf @astertist @accio–zoe @wutheringweasley @crispyfrenchfriescrisis @set-phasers-to-cuddle @thecurlyhairedwinchester @snazzy-posts @huffle-homie24601 @celestialdiamandis @queen678900 @gryffindor-girl420 @ilostcount-helpme @Dedellis @ellie-emb @nervous-shawn @fcavalerro @dorcasmeadoweslupin @chloe-geoghegan1 @lostnliterature @remusfreakinglupin @marvelouspottering @fcavalerro @xmoonylupinx @swansong321 @xinyourdreamsx @spideymood @marauders-trash-forever @khaleesiclifford @thisismysecrethappyplace @gabiatthedisco @writing-red @stardust.and.glitter @sly-vixen-up2nogood @biatheintrovert @mamarhee @spiderman-n @wonder-worlds @honeymalfoy @dumbass-sandwich @emliy-antognoli @raavkans @maraudersandco @lilaccoveredteapot @potterhead-of-ilvermorny @spencer-is-too-perfect @blackpinkdolan @my-babies-are-ash @whysoseriouspadfoot @i-padfootblack-things @mysticalsandwichseeker @yallgotkik @lilmissmoony @keey-lime-pi @elenawhatonearthisthis @margotblackburn @chrisstabme @itsanarttodie @siriusly-sad @addibug1014-blog @galaxyoffangirls @just4muggles @everything-s-comin-up-aces @sedanleystanley @starryeyedsupernova @mcu-potter-pirate @mublood-blog @svtwit @parkersingfinitywar @onthebroadway @the17resa @thefullbullpen99 @snoploop @johnnycadeissocute @all-thegayships @briisasinamonroll @lady-of-lies @ardentmuse @blueivysuniverse @dark-night-sky99 @ilovetvshowsblog @s0cial-retard @savethehoneeybees @luna-xxxxx @bvmakk @deathofthethrones @humblemei @myfriendsaremypowers @broken-and-alone12 @fandomnerdsarecool @stardust.and.glitter @hopewithadashofglitter @lazydiabetic @killerbumblebee @angeld82300 @alisoncdariel @brungun @marvelismylifffe @iluvmesomemarvelndc @beutiflybybri @stephie-senpai @heartbeats-wildly @em-aesthe @godisreal @vibhati123 @miracleoflove @classypursefarmphysique @cncno @itsshelbygates @majesticavenger @jellyfishwriter @ikbrenda @righttide @marvelousmarauderstrash @hero-ically @itshelaodinsdottirbitch @behindthebook @sewarner @themarauders-headcanons @bloomingonmay @songforhema @rose-aesthete @blueberrytiger01 @i-want-my-name-back @lumonva @unfortunatekiwitrash @smilexcaptainx @oldschool-hoee @kiwi-nonspecificgender @shymagicsworld

#Sirius Black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black headcanon #sirius black fic #sirius black au #sirius black imagine #young sirius black imagine #sirius black angst #sirius black animagus #sirius black x reader #young!sirius black x reader #sirius black x reader imagine #sirius black hc #sirius black hcs #sirius black fluff #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one shot #sirius black one-shot #Marauders #the marauders #marauders era #marauders headcanon #marauders imagine