#yes the gays are indeed slowly but surely taking over

[theplottdump]

ＳＩＤＥ ＰＬＯＴＴ - ＰＵＲＥ ＨＥＤＯＮＩＳＭ - PART 2 🔞 - 𝙶𝚎𝚗 𝟼: 𝚅𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚍 -

heat level: 🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶 (It's Smut with a Plot) content warnings: simdick, choking, graphic depictions of gay sex, I'm literally warning you now!!

Forward: This scene is something that I wanted to write anyway for the main plott eventually, and the PG-13 parts will end up popping up again in the main storyline - but for Valentines smut sake I thought it would be fun to jump ahead and take way farther than reasonably necessary. Godspeed. Don't say I didn't warn you.

PART ONE: ( The One with the Plott, Rating PG ) PART TWO: ( The One with the Smut, Rating R )

~ continued from part 1 ~

Leanne nodded a goodnight to her boys and left the room as wordlessly as she entered it. They might have taken the time to actually notice her departure if their eyes weren't fiercely locked on one another, both mentally preparing for the battle to come.

"Valerian, you're overreacting again." "Kindly explain how." "You're sure you want to do this right now?" "I'm not afraid of you darling."

Ask any couple about the secret to a long happy relationship and they'll likely explain the importance of communication and compromise. Sure, the two had their fair share of arguments and disagreements over the years, especially when it came to raising their baby girl-

-but they communicated and compromised just as much as any successful normal domestic relationship.

The only caveat: their communication and compromise skills often presented themselves in more… explosive manner.

And it was at this point as Chad studied Val's practiced stony expression that an idea started to take shape.

Tonight, he wasn't going to compromise. Oh no, Tonight he was going to 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

Chad rested his forehead against Val's temple, looking up at him like a fox playing with it's next meal.

"We don't have to make it into a big deal, just some friends and family on the beach." "I don't have friends."

"You'd get to dress up, Sexy lil suit, Sunny can be our flower girl... I'd only have a few demands."

"Demands?" Val studied him, attempting to predict his partner's next move. It was like a mental game of chess, but if all the pieces spelled out 'this man is going to eat you.'

“I want a cake animation that doesn't work, flowers we forget to use-“ “Okay, fine.” “I want to try that mod that lets HANSEL walk down the aisle with a bouquet” “Maybe.” "And I want Poppy there." "No." "I want 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 to walk me down the aisle." "I said no."

Chad snaked his arms around Valerian's waist, pulling him to his hips, effectively closing any distance between them that might have led Val to believe he was getting out of this easily.

"I believe is what you actually meant to say is 'Yes Chad. Whatever you want my darling.'"

"You're delusional if you think I'm going to let that woman anywhere near my happiness. She would just poison it like she poisons everything good in her life." "You're just mad because she read you like a book. I do the same thing Val." "Yes, but I actually like you."

"Mmm, yes, I can tell." Chad slowly starting to grind his hips against Val's thigh, slipping two fingers into the waistband of his joggers and giving them a quick 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱.

Val's eyes darkened again as they fought, rain against fire- Chad smile grew as he observed his favorite little cracks starting to form on Val's evil mask of concentration.

Yes, the Agent decided, this was going to be quite fun for him indeed.

"You're being ridiculous-" "Then tell me to stop." Any lightness in Chad's tone had been completely lost, leaving only a deep predatory growl in its place.

Val raised a hand to protest, his partner snatching it from the air without breaking eye contact, holding him close. Chad continued on in his low growl, "But know this 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳. If you concede, 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗻."

"Those rules hardly seem fair."

Val's demeanor had retained it's cool quality so far, but the cracks in his facade were growing deeper and more fractured. Through the gaps between the pieces, Chad could see his beautifully soft overgrown edgelord, and feel the prize for all his coercing stiffen against his leg.

He slowly brought Val's captured wrist to his lips, keeping a dedicated eye on the man's face. Chad wanted to watch his favorite part of their little dance. Mouth met it's target as tongue tasted heartbeat- villainous mask falling to the ground, leaving Val vulnerable once more.

His heart, which Val professed died long ago, was beating deliciously faster than the man wanted to let on. Persona broken, Chad earned an involuntary shiver from his beautiful, overzealous, and positivity fucked supervillain.

"Oh my love, you know I never play fair."

( concluded on Pillowfort - explicit content ahead ���� )

#sim spice #side plott #valerian plott #chad chinsley #spice level: absolutely fucked

[zensations35]

Viral Paradox (TVA Loki Part 2)

Here is part 2! View part 1 here. Yall know I love my slow burn sicknesses. Here we have everyone slowly falling ill and I couldn't help having a little fun with genderfluid Loki. What you'll find in this chapter:

-Loki pulling party pranks and being absolutely chaotic good

-Tony being sick and drunk and sarcastic

-Big gay feels

-Loki getting punched in the face for being an asshole

Part 2: 

Friday

Loki trudges into the Avenger’s Tower, absolutely exhausted. It’s early--or late? 3 AM, dark in the tower, but at least Stark provided him with a room to sleep in. He has been awake all night, time hopping into various moments of Asgard’s past to piece together the materials for an antidote. He gathered enough ingredients (hopefully) for several vials of it. But it takes 24 hours to brew. He brought the ingredients to his place at the TVA, using his kitchen counter to stamp it all together and simmer. He’ll have to wait for it--time works differently at the TVA. He can’t just hop forward in time there.

Hopefully he can prevent the spread until then.

Yes, he determined that this is indeed the virus. Don’t ask what he had to do to figure that out. It wasn’t pleasant. But at least now, Loki can curb it here. 

He makes sure to enchant the scepter room to alert him if anyone enters it. Stark has peppered the room with sentires as well. On top of that security, another precaution Loki too was to magick half a dozen fake scepters, all hidden throughout the room. If the Variant comes after it again, it will give Loki and Stark enough time to react.

Overkill? Possibly. But Stark was adamant about not only having the party, but of keeping Loki out of the scepter room during it. He still doesn’t trust the trickster. 

The day of the party, preparation is a minimum. Mostly because Stark already owns a fully stocked bar with enough liquor to serve a gathering on Asgard.

Loki chooses to don a female form for these revels. He is less likely to be recognized, and besides, it has been too long since he has been a woman. 

She magicks herself a black slit dress, flashing a smooth thigh, nails printed with black and green polish. She can’t help accenting her dark curls with a few emerald highlights. 

Damn, she looks fabulous. She plans to make sure the guests take drinks from her. That’s the plan to prevent the spread of the virus--spike everyone’s drink with magic that will prevent infection. Ensure minimal damage to the humans attending. The problem is, if someone is already infected, her magic will do nothing. That’s what the antidote is for. 

On her way to the bar, Loki is intercepted by the host himself. Tony gives Loki a once-over. “Do I know you?”

“I’m your bartender today, Mister Stark.” Loki surprises herself by the husky tone in her voice. The low hum of heat follows Stark’s eyes, making the gaze feel like a brush across a canvas.

“That so?” Tony taps his lips with a finger. “I don’t remember hiring you. And I definitely feel like I should have.”

Oh Hel, Stark is flirting with her. It’s so obvious, even though his tone is casual. When Tony Stark flirts, people in Kansas can lick their fingers, hold it up to the wind, and know exactly where he’s fixed his gaze. 

“If I own the bar, does that mean I’m buying you all the drinks?” Tony’s lips tilt up.

Loki chuckles. “Hm, here for less than an hour and you’re already propositioning me.”

Tony blinks, nice and slow. Loki savors the seconds it takes him to realize who she is. Tony’s face deadpans once he does. 

“That’s funny,” he frowns. “I’m laughing, on the inside.”

Loki gestures to her body, “Do I look fabulous enough for your gathering?”

“Your face is prettier but that doesn’t mean I won’t punch it.”

“Don’t get rattled just because you find me attractive, Stark.”

“Oh, no problem there, now that I know it’s you.”

“Hm, are the breasts not enough to seduce you?”

“It’s not about the body--I can work with anything. But you specifically?” he snorts. He gets two steps away before he loses himself in the crook of his elbow, Hh’SHHH-eh!” He drinks in a wet sniff and points at Loki. “I’m keeping an eye on you, dust bunny.”

Loki rolls her eyes. “I quiver in fear.”

Guests start to fill the room. At first, Tony greets everyone individually, but he grows more distracted as the throng deepens.

Loki sashays through the crowd, washing the guests with charm and glamour. They all eventually allow her to ‘refill’ their drinks. She takes more than a little pleasure in this: deceit for a purpose other than mischief. Tipping dribbles of magic into each patron’s glass, ensuring their continued existence. 

It’s hard not to notice Stark around the party, his voice pitching louder with every drink, pausing often to sneeze messily into his elbow. At least he’s covering them. Idiot. 

Now it’s time to target the less vulnerable members of the party: the Avengers themselves. Loki’s sharp eyes skim the room, landing on Rogers leaning against a railing upstairs. He’s chatting with his foxy falcon friend. Perfect.

Loki doesn’t want to approach them at the same time. She hangs back, preening, smoothing her dress. When Rogers departs, Loki glides up to Sam, a smooth smile playing across her red lips.

“Hey there,” she pulls her tray down, bottles ricketing. “Top you off?”

Sam gives her an easy, if disinterested nod. “Sure, why not.” He holds out his tumbler and Loki pours liquor through a magic-coated finger.  

“Don’t you look handsome tonight,” Loki winks at him. “Do you always radiate such charm?”

Sam chuckles, easing his elbows against the railing. “You’re nice, but I have a girlfriend.”

Liar. Loki can smell the tang of falsehoods.

“Oh?” she presses her lips into a pout.

“Yeah,” Sam dodges her gaze by taking a gulp of his drink. 

“Too bad,” Loki squeezes his bicep. “Enjoy your drink~” she heads back to the bar.

Pity. She chose the wrong form to seduce him. 

Stark’s friend Rhodey seems quite pleased as he regales other guests with war stories. Loki makes sure to listen intently and gives him a nice throaty laugh during the punchline. 

“You’re a riot, Mister Rhodes.” It’s easy to slip magic into his cup. Parties make humans so unawares. 

On to Barton, who is manspreading on an otherwise vacant couch, nose buried in a novel. Loki leans over the back of the seat, offering the bottle. “Refill?” she asks.

Barton doesn’t take his eyes off the text, hand fluttering over his empty glass. This man clearly isn’t here to mingle. It’s not his style.

Loki mixes the liquor, unable to resist adding a dash of Asgardian’s finest. Barton will enjoy that hangover tomorrow. Perhaps that was malicious, but Loki couldn’t help a bit of revenge for that arrow years ago.

A laugh bubbles up and Loki realizes she’s having fun. Ridiculous, perhaps, but this task is the perfect excuse to smother herself in chaos and mischief. It makes her feel as tipsy as if she had a drink herself. 

She can’t help testing her luck with the rush of manic glee. She sidles up to Thor, who is chanting a variation of an Asgardian drinking song to a group of guests.

Loki serves them all, grinning and tossing her hair. All of them like what they see--save for her brother.

Not surprising. Thor has always been less physically lustful, his interest more geared toward the mind, not the body.

She swings her way toward Banner who clutches what looks like a soda in a glass. “Refill?” Loki asks.

Banner shakes his head, “No, sorry.”

“It’s almost empty! Just let me--”

Bruce snatches Loki’s thin wrist before she can touch the glass. “Sorry. I don’t like people touching my drinks.” He releases her and softens his words, “Bad history.”

“Ah…” Loki tries not to show her disappointment. She’ll have to come up with another way to magick him. 

Back at the bar, Natasha has taken to serving drinks in a more stationary arena. Loki sets her tray down on the counter to refill the liquors. 

Nat nods kindly to a guest who plucks the drink she just made for him. When he departs, she begins to wipe the counter. 

She stiffens mid-reach, squeezing the cloth as her head bobs, “Hht-XSh!” her body jolts with effort. She remains clenched over the counter, nose buried in her arm. 

Finally, she decides to stand, wicking a thumb under her nose as subtly as possible.

Is it spreading already? Loki was sure she had a lid on it all. But, really, it isn’t surprising. If any of them have had contact with Stark before the party, the virus would be working its way through the group. If it’s the same as when Loki had it decades ago, it moves fast and hits hard. 

Loki twists her wrist, manifesting a silk handkerchief and hands it to Natasha.

The Widow quirks her brow at Loki. “Interesting choice of accessories.” She plucks the cloth and dabs at her nose. “I thought these went out of style when we discovered germs.”

Loki snorts. Not if you’re magic. She tinkles a fake laugh, “I do a lot of laundry.” She makes sure to enchant it nice and clean before taking it back from Natasha.

“Are you feeling ill?” Loki asks.

“I’m fine, ignore me,” Nat says, voice pitching lower the more she speaks. She leans her rear against the back of the counter and pulls out her phone. Her face crimps as she reads the screen. She sniffles as she types furiously, shoulders strung and hard with the weight of her task.

Loki snatches the opportunity to reach out and graze Natasha’s temple with two fingers. 

The Widow’s mind resembles an in-depth to-do list, constantly ticking off tasks and filing away information for later use. But under the surface, something pulses. Loki senses the familiar spear of self-hatred. It surprises her, almost infects her thoughts, memories of a childhood in Thor’s shadow dribbling over his vision…

Loki grunts as her arm is wrenched back, Natasha instinctively defending herself. Loki has to fight the urge to retaliate in kind. 

Nat pops back to reality and releases her, “Sorry. I--hpTSCH!” she barely catches her nose in her wrist. “Mn..” She lets out a throaty cough that alerts passersby. 

“Hey Nat, you ok?” Maria Hill slides onto a barstool, martini glass in her forked fingers. 

Nat brushes her nose with the heel of her palm. “Fine. I swear.”

“You’d say that no matter what,” Maria frowns. 

“Drink?” Loki holds out a goblet filled with swirling orange liquid. 

“No,” Maria says, pushing her own drink away, “Not if she’s sick.”

Natasha pinches her lips at her. 

“What? I’m serious. You should rest. You’re always so worked up--”

“Actually, I will, thanks.” Natasha grabs the cocktail and turns. “I’ll be in my office.” She glides out of the bar and heads down the hall, hips swaying as she sips the drink.

Maria bites her lip as she watches Nat leave. Loki snags Maria’s drink, quickly drizzling magic into the glass. “Want to join her?”

“Yeah…” Hill mumbles, eyes still following Natasha.

Loki holds out the glass. Maria snaps out of her trance and blinks at the drink. “Um,” she plucks it by the stem, “I guess.” Her lips roll and she gives the hall a faraway stare. “I gotta…” she clips away, hurrying after Nat.

No mistaking that look in her eyes. Hopefully she will drink at least half. Loki will have to track down the Widow later. She turns to scan the room, her gaze withering as she sees the guests emptying from the party. 

Loki swipes her brow, feeling sweaty and slightly shaky. The euphoria from earlier is crashing and she feels the weight of her magic pressing down on her shoulders. It’s a different kind of exhaustion, one that can only be repent with rest. 

She winds her way around the party, ticking off guests who have left and letting the drapes of enchantment fall away gradually. She can keep this in check. 

Something glints out of the window. A green gash of light, arcing across the black sky. A shooting star…humans do so love the romance of them.

“Dust bunny!” An arm winds around Loki’s neck and Tony grins at her, cheeks rosy and dimpled. “You,” he points at Loki with the hand curled around his tumbler, “need to relax. You’re killing the vibe, man. Lady.” He tips the drink, “Whatever you are.”

“Are you drunk?” Loki asks, but his ripe breath answers the question for her.

“You bet.”

Loki peels herself out of his grasp. “Are you mad? What about the scepter?”

“We got a whole tower full of people who kick ass for a living. Lighten up.”

“Are you not even a little concerned?”

“I’m always concerned, Mr. Bunny.” Tony takes a glug. “In fact, I--” he blinks, face popping to life. He wrenches his arm up, spilling into the crook of his elbow, “HmSHH!” his steps stutter forward and his drink sloshes over the rim, “IehGSchh-nn!” 

Loki steadies him with a glare. “Lovely. Really. Now that you’ve infected the town, I believe it’s time for you to retire.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“Well,  you obviously cannot handle being responsible yourself.”

“Honestly? That’s your fault,” Tony growls.

“Excuse me? How is your imprudence my doing?”

“The portal,” Tony slurs, “I can’t…” he shunts his gaze down into his drink, staring intently as if the ice will dance.

Loki frowns, curiosity overtaking her. She reaches out, the tips of her fingers caressing Tony’s temple.

Mark 4 Mark 7 Mark 9 all in lab--

What if he’s lying--could all be a trick--

it’s gonna be ok

No it’s not--scepter--danger--do something! Do something now!

No, you’re overreacting--everything’s fine everything’s--

Loki--dangerous--liar--punch him punch him punch--

No No No--Stop thinking Stop thinking Stop thinking Stop--

Suns and Stars, even a dumptruck full of liquor can’t calm this man’s mind. No wonder he has so many vices. 

Tony slaps Loki’s hand away. “Do you look both ways before getting on my fucking nerves, dust bunny?”

Loki’s lips twist in a glare. Tony finishes his drink and nods. “I gotta go. It’s VIP time.” He wanders away, gathering up the remaining guests. VIP time seems to be for Avengers only. 

Loki sighs, a headache budding. Did she get everyone? Where is Romanoff? She’s certain she got every guest who left. All of this magic has left her feeling drained. She can feel the energy whirlpooling out of her.

Who is left? She ticks off her fingers, frowning. 

The men are all gathered around a table, playing ‘Who can lift Thor’s hammer?’ Loki tsks. Humans. They’ll never wrap their minds around the workings of gods.

Loki winds around the room, hoping to lure someone out of the group when a sound stills her cold.

“Heh-EKXSSHH-ew!!” the loud expulsion startles everyone to silence. It’s a commanding sneeze--the type that demands attention. And it came from Rogers.

“Whoa,” Steve gives his head a tiny shake. “Haven’t done that in a while.”

Loki feels her blood ice. Shit! She’s losing the advantage here. If they’ve all been in contact with the virus, her protection spell won’t do a damn thing.

“Hrrshh-eh!” Steve burrows down, spine bending, “Ehshhh-ieu! HiehSSHHK!” 

“Steve, jesus, are you--” Sam throws himself onto his feet. 

Steve pulls himself up and wipes his nose. “What…” his eyes gloss when he sees the blood coating his fingers. 

“You have a nosebleed?” Bruce asks, alarmed.

“This…never happ--” Steve presses a palm to his forehead and groans. 

Sam folds a clump of tissues under his nose, brow pinching as hard as his fingers. Bruce leans down and tests his forehead. 

“He’s warm, not feverish yet.”

“What the hell…”

Loki hasn't moved from her statuesque position. She is startled out of her daze when Tony stomps drunkenly toward her.

“Stark, I--”

He slams her against a pillar, arm pressed to her throat.

“Tony!” someone gasps.

“Did you do this?” Tony growls.

“Why yes, I am in the habit of giving people random nosebleeds. I’m kinky like that.”

There it is. The snark. Loki can’t seem to help sliding in the sass, even when the read of the room begs for sincerity.

And she gets what she deserves. Tony punches her clean in the face. 

Loki wasn’t expecting it. She lashes out with a blast of green, summoning the dregs of magic left in her. Tony is tugged away by the others, and the room goes completely still. 

“What in the…”

They are all staring at Loki. Loki starts to speak but instead of his disguised voice, he sounds as he usually does.

Shit. He pats himself down, peering at his clothes and body. He’s himself again, wearing his TVA uniform. He is no longer disguised.

He looks up at the furious faces of the Avengers, feeling a slap of deja vu.

Well. Shit.

#lo/ki #mcu loki #illness #snz fic #whump #time travel #snz #stark snark #snzfic #mar/vel #aven/gers #everyone gets sick #everyone gets whumped #please enjoy my descent into madness

[fireandspiceland]

Hm also getting unreasonably horny recently. so have some vague ideas created by a fellow horny fucker. (Apologies I'm not the most experienced at smut).

nyo Ruseng, hear me out, normal ruseng is already plenty enough but nyo ruseng is a different level of shit .

Anya is so much taller than alice that it's actually funny, but when said shortie pins Anya to the bed with ease despite her always struggling, it suddenly becomes apparent just who is in control of this relationship.

"Aww, too much for little Anya already?" Cooed Alice from her perch sitting on Anyas stomach, kneading her tits with one hand and teasing her clit with another.

"I just started and you're already panting like a bitch in heat, aren't you my sweet?"

Mocking, mocking, mocking, something Alice did too well, and something anya would rather die than addmiting she liked.

Breathless and struggling to articulate a single word, let alone a full sentence "Y-yes Ma'am."

Alice liked to feel in power, and she always got a little more frantic with her strokes and ministrations when Anya called her Ma'am, "Say it again my dear, say it again?"

She was barely in a place to think a coherent sentence, with two of Alice's fingers inside her vagina and her breasts erect and hard from the strokes as well as the light strikes wity her hand Alice did on them.

She tried to speak but nothing would come out other than a moan of pleasure and the stuttered word of Ma'am.

Contented for now, Alice continued, slowly getting Anya closer to climax, as she moaned and whined loudly and clearly, such a wonderful sound her moans were. Alice herself was growing warm and feeling wet, but first she needed to tend to Anya, starting to move her fingers around till she brushed against that spot just right, Anya's body bucked as pleasure coursed through her, moaning at almost a fevered pitch, she wanted Alice to do it again, please she had to.

Breathing a bit heavily herself Alice muttered in Anyas ear "Eager, slut."

Brushing that spot again, lingering for longer this time, until she felt that Anya was close enough, close enough, finally with one last wiggle of the fingers, Anya climaxed, almost shrieking as she did so, soft body almost merging with Alice.

_________________________

Ok there was that and now something a bit more cracky

"Yo bro have you ever measured your dick against another guys?" It was Alfred, currently high off his ass in his room with Mathias.

"Ew no! That's gay!"

"Mathias we've been dating for 5 years, we are both gay, we've been since high school dumbass."

"Right, sorry I forgor." It is important to know that Mathias is also currently high off his well sculpted ass.

"Come on man let's measure dicks it....ll be really awesome!"

Alfred somehow ready had his dick out, tobias a bit flaccid due to him not having a boner right now (duh)

"My dick isn't working!" Whined Alfred, momentarily forgetting what caused a boner.

"I don't know man should I touch it for you?"

"Hm seems good."

And so mathias did indeed touch Alfred's dick, and got others by squeezing it, and for some reason he decided to lick it too, Alfred seemed to like that so he did it again and again till his dick was hard.

"I fixed your dick man, now fix mine."Alfred did as he was told and sucked off Mathias, who god hard much faster than Alfred had.

They proceeded to measure dicks, and triumphantly Mathias said "Mine is longer!"

"But mine is thicker!"

"Mate most of you is thicker."

"Taking about thicker, I'm hungry, can we get Pizza?""

Sure what would you like."

They were ordering pizza like they hadn't just sucked eachothers dick not 5 minutes ago.

_____________

Pls envision Ukraine in one of those sexy devil costumes, Austria and Germany wearing bras while Hungary towers over them with a riding crop, with Italy playing with the dicks underneath

There's a lot to unpack here and I was thinking about deviding it in two posts but alas I cant be bothered to do shit so lets make a long post even longer hehe

NYO RUSENG ARE YOU KIDDING THATS SO GOOD Im gonna be thinking about them for a while. yeah. anya's tits are on my mind a lot, mostly with matthew's mouth on them cause ruscan is life but... ALICE *head in hands* you're so right making her a dom I love that for her. also you're doing great with the smut writing, especially the last part was really captivating for me.

moving on.. I love crack fics. I love DenAme. Them being stupid and high and having fun with their big dicks is everything. Also "Taking about thicker, I'm hungry, can we get Pizza?" I'M WHEEZING XD

and crossdressing, sexy costumes, hungary with a riding crop and feli being a slut are always a bop.

#nyo england #nyo russia #wfsn #hetalia #riva.ask #nyo ruseng #aph america #aph denmark #dename

[mistresspotterhead]

The American Ymbryne- Chap. 1

Alma Peregrine x fem!reader

Warnings: Yelling, slamming hands on a table, being outed (kind of)

Words: 1,900 on the dot

A/N: Wow, this took a lil bit. Alma doesn’t appear until the very end of this chapter, but she’ll be in the next one a lot. Everyone has been so kind, and that has helped a lot <3. Also: Miss Saker indicates the type of bird you are, not your given name. I hope you guys like this. 😊😊😊

Tags: @itsonlydana @evil-feather @merci-bitch @multimilfs @escapetodreamworld @gay-and-sad-tm @multifandomfix @romanottsmaximoff @n0thing-is-real-exe​ @theaudreymere 

(ask if you want to be added/removed)

In a strange way, Cairnholm reminded you of the Chicago loop you and your wards had just fled from. They were both very dreary, cold, and, from what you could tell from those on the ferry, the people would rather be anywhere else. 

“M-miss Saker? I’m cold.” The bundle of talking coats shivered next to you. 

“I know, Astrid. We’re almost there, though.” You sighed and looked out toward the slowly approaching coastline. Your surviving children, Elina, Alexander, Leonard, and, of course, Astrid, all huddled closer to you. You stared at Cairnholm for a while longer, until the ferryman’s voice suddenly called out.

“Alright everyone, ‘ere we are! The… lovely… Cairnholm!” He steered the small ferry over to the somehow smaller docks, and you led your children out.

“Is everyone here? Astrid, Leo, Elina, Alex?” David, Beth-Anne, Lisa, Frankie, June, Stefanie, Josef, Alice, Rosie, Reggie. You suppressed the urge to call out their names as well. 

“Yes, Miss Saker,” they called in long-suffering voices- you were very adamant about attendance. It was good to see something was normal.

“All right then. Leo, can you see where the loop is? And Alex, are there any other peculiars near?” Ah yes, your diviners. It was very lucky for all of you that they were two of those that survived the wight’s invasion of your loop. 

Your Chicago loop near the Art Institute was one of the last surviving loops in America maintained by an Ymbryne, along with your South Side, McKinley Park, and St. Louis loops, though the latter was run mainly by its older wards and reset once a week.

As of a fortnight ago, though, the Art Institute loop was the only one you had. McKinley Park was attacked by Wights and Hollows in December, with South Side following close in early January. Samuel, the sole survivor of McKinley Park, was what Syndrygasti call a Librarian. He could see hollows and alerted you to them when you were traveling to St. Louis for reset. The problem with this, though, was that Sammy was only five years old, and so frequently got distracted.

It wasn’t hard to understand- Illinois in 1975 was very colorful. Sammy was gone now, though, as were all most all of your children. Speaking of… 

“There aren’t any other peculiars on the island, Miss Saker- at least not in this time,” Alex said, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Thank you, dear. How are you faring, Leo? Have you located the loop? I don’t like being out in the open for this long.” For emphasis, Elina gave a giant, chattering shiver that was surely exaggerated.

“Indeed, but it is on the other side of the island, and the night is fast approaching.” 

You looked over and scowled at the sun; if you couldn’t get rest, then why was it allowed to?

“Well then. It looks like we’ll have to go into town.” Immediately, protests arose.

“Aw, no!”

“Come on, Miss Saker! We can make camp out here!”

“Because that sounds comfortable,” Leo deadpanned to Astrid.

“Well, it’s better than town! There probably isn’t even a hotel!”

“Actually, Astrid, that’s where you’re wrong.” Astrid looked shocked at the suggestion that she could ever be incorrect at something. “There is a hotel. It’s called the….” You took out the crumpled guidebook the ferryman had given to each tourist. “Preist Hole. What kind of hotel is called the Priest Hole?” You muttered that last part to yourself. “Anyway, off we go. Come along, single file now.”

Your ducklings dutifully arranged themselves from youngest to oldest, seven-year-old Elina closest to you and sixteen-year-old Leo at the back.

You hoped that the food was at least good.

Nope. Everything on the Preist Hole’s menu was covered with vinegar. You wondered if that was a Welsh thing or a Cairnholm thing. Maybe the owner just liked vinegar. Next to you, Elina was grimacing with every bite. On a whim, you decided to flag the bartender down.

“Hey, Kev, was it?” He grinned widely at you. You gave him a small smile in return.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me. What can I do for you ‘n yer bunch today?” 

“I was just wondering if you had some fries- sorry, chips- with less vinegar. My youngest is still picky.”

“Hmm. Well, I’ll talk to Arnie ‘n see what he can whip up fer ye. He’s the cook, ye see.”

“Thank you so much, sir.” You attempted a bigger smile, but it still felt forced.

“Naw, it ain’t a problem, really. ‘N please, call me Kev. Sir sounds like I’m fifty- ‘n I’ve still got twenty years ‘fore that,” he chuckled.

“Well then, you must call me y/n.”

“Of course, ma’am- y/n, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, Kev.” This time, your smile was a small bit genuine- his hesitancy was endearing.

“Yeh. Well, um, I’d better talk teh Arnie now. I’ve kinda been lingering here for a while.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you from work, anyway.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t object if yeh did,” Kev concluded, winking before walking away.

Once he was out of earshot, Astrid started chittering.

“Ooh, was that flirting I saw, Miss Saker?” You rolled your eyes, and Alex guffawed into his water.

“Miss Saker? Flirt with a guy? I think Elina would drink an entire bottle of vinegar before that happened.” You turned your head sharply in his direction, but not before Astrid snapped back at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You jerk your head toward her now.

“Well, Miss Saker isn’t really the type to, ah, dabble in the male gene pool.” It was like you were watching tennis, really, with all this head-turning.

“That doesn’t make any-”

“ENOUGH!” You stood up, placing your hands on the bar. “This is not a discussion we are having, especially not here and now. Alex, I told you that information in confidence, and I am severely disappointed that you have betrayed that. Astrid, whether or not I am flirting with someone, and really my love life in general, is none of your concern. Do you both understand?”

They nodded, Alex looking especially ashamed of himself.

“Sorry, Miss Saker. It just slipped out.”

You sighed and ignored all the stares you and your wards were getting because of your outburst. 

“Alright, Alex. Just… you can’t share things that people tell you privately.”

“Yes, Miss Saker.” He was quiet after that, poking at his food.

It bothered you that he had shared that information, though it didn’t seem as if the other wards had understood. Of course, Leo was the only one you would expect to, as he was sixteen, but he had been sheltered in your loop his entire life. All of your wards had, really.

Just as you were beginning to sink into your past again, Kev came out with Elina’s new plate of fr- chips.

“Here ye are, little lady. I hope you like these better.” He smiled at Elina, tugging a small one out in return. You both watched expectantly as she took a tentative bite. And another. And another. Until the plate was almost gone, and she was rubbing her stomach in contentment.

“Well, that was fast.”

“It was good, Miss Saker. I wasn’t going to let it cool.” You laughed at the disapproving look on her face.

“Alright, alright. I suppose you have a good point.” You turned to Kev. “Thank you again, sir, for-”

“Kev.”

“...right. Thank you for doing this. How much will it cost?” You were ruffled at his interruption, but he didn’t notice. He pretended to think for a moment.

“Hmm… how much will makin’ a little girl ‘n her mam happy cost? I dunno.” He smiled at you. “It’s on the house. I can see that ye haven’t had such a good day, so….”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I have the money….”

“I’m completely sure. It’s good te make someone happy once in a while.”

“Well, I truly do thank you. It also seems that we’ll need a room, if that’s alright?”

“Sure. Room four was just recently vacated. It’s right up here.” He led you up the stairs, the kids trailing behind.

The room was small for five people, but it seemed like a mansion to the children, who only had their old, overcrowded loop to compare it to. There were four rickety beds, though they did seem to be clean, and a barren nightstand next to each of them. 

“Ah… I forgot that this only had four beds. I can get ye another room, or-”

“No, no, this is fine. Thank you for your help, Kev.” You subtly ushered him toward the door.

“Oh- well, if ye need anythi-”

“Yes, of course. Ta, then! Have a nice day!” You shut the door, leaving him very confused.

Alex was wheezing on the floor behind you.

“That… that was absolutely amazing Miss Saker! You are an absolute icon!” 

What in Abaton does that mean? You never could understand the new slang terms that the 1970s held. 

Elina yawned, setting off all the other children and alerting you to their needs.

“Alright then, time for bed.” Immediately, they were completely awake.

“I’m not tired at all, Miss Saker, therefore I shan’t be able to fall asleep.” 

“The fact that your accent is coming out very strongly tells me that you are indeed tired, Leo.” You crossed your arms. “Bed. now.” Your wards slouched, and grudgingly picked out a bed each.

“Miss Saker, where will you sleep tonight?” Astrid asked as you were tucking her covers in.

“On the floor, of course. Now, did you remember to take off your gloves?”

“But it won’t be comfortable! The floor is so hard and cold and dirty and-”

“Your gloves, Astrid.” She was very talkative, even late at night, though you had come to enjoy it. Sometimes.

She took off the gloves that helped control her peculiarity and was about to start chattering again when Elina suddenly spoke up from her bed in the corner.

“I could make you a nest with a spare blanket, Miss Saker?” You gave her one of your very rare genuine smiles.

“That would be lovely, Elina.”

“Wait- how did she know you were going to sleep in bird form?” Alex asked, finally catching on. You smiled again at Elina and kissed her on the forehead.

“She’s made me a little nest before when I fall asleep in my study while in bird form.”

“And that happens often?”

“Surprisingly so. Now, snuggle in and no more talking.” As the children said their goodnights, you finally transformed into your bird form; a stunning saker falcon. You jumped lightly onto Elina’s bed, careful not to hurt her with your razor-sharp talons or accidentally hit her with your wing (which had happened on more than one occasion). 

Though you nestled into the warm bunch of blankets right away, you didn’t fall asleep until much later, and even then, you were restless all night. 

---

Little did you know, in the old manor that you would trek to the next day, a group of peculiars and one very curious ymbryne had observed all of this. Alma LeFay Peregrine set her watch and gave the children a reassuring smile while she pondered what this meant and why her stomach had fluttered when you gave that dazzling smile.

#tw yelling #tw slamming hands down #tw being outed #alma peregrine x reader #miss peregrine x reader #alma peregrine #wow im so gay for her

[drarrymybeloved]

Supersonic

“Good afternoon, good afternoon,” Harry greets his waiting students as he quickly makes his way to the front of the Room of Requirement where the Duelling Club meets once a week. Draco’s already there. He smiles in greeting when Harry catches his eye, sending a pleasant ripple through Harry.

“Hey, sorry to keep you waiting,” Harry apologises, an automatic smile curving his lips. 

“It’s alright, we haven’t been waiting long. I haven’t spoiled the surprise, don’t worry.” Draco winks at him, sending Harry’s imagination to inappropriate places. 

Shaking himself, Harry nods in gratitude and turns towards the students, waiting for them to fall silent.

“Hi everyone, sorry I’m late. But I hope what we're working on today will make up for my tardiness,” he begins. “You’ve all been practicing your defensive spells for long enough now – I think you’re ready to start practicing actual duelling.” 

A shiver of excitement passes through the room as students turn to their friends and start whispering to one another. 

“Now, before I pair you off, I want you all to witness proper duelling etiquette and technique. Spellwork is just one part of what makes a good dueller. Professor Malfoy,” Harry indicates to his right as Draco takes a step forward, “will be helping me out with that.”

Harry glances towards Draco at the same time that Draco looks at him. Their eyes meet, sparking something heated in Harry’s gut. Tearing his eyes away, he busies himself with erecting a small magical barrier between the duelling mat and the students. It’s not really necessary, but as far as his students’ safety is concerned, Harry would like to err on the side of caution.

Once finished, Harry takes his stance in front of Draco. 

“Scared, Potter?” Draco murmurs, grey eyes shining with amusement. The effect is instantaneous – adrenaline surges through Harry. He grins. “You wish, Malfoy.”

And then they’re stalking off to their respective ends of the mat, whirling back around to face each other. Draco smirks at him as they bow. Refusing to get distracted, Harry wastes no time in sending a Jelly-Legs jinx Draco’s way, which he dodges neatly while shooting off a Tarantallegra that catches Harry’s left leg.

Wobbling slightly as his leg valiantly attempts to dance the salsa, Harry aims a Tickling charm at Draco that hits him square in the chest, making him double over with laughter. 

“Expelliarmus,” Harry shouts triumphantly, knocking Draco’s wand out of his hand. Applause bursts out from where the students are standing.

Draco straightens, hands on his hips and gasping slightly. As Harry walks up to him to return his wand, he smiles crookedly. “Not bad, Professor Potter.”

Smiling back at him, Harry hands Draco’s wand back. “Not bad yourself, Professor Malfoy,” he murmurs. He holds Draco’s gaze for a touch longer than necessary before he remembers he’s supposed to be teaching children how to duel.

Snapping out of it, he turns to address the awed faces around him. “Right, so, that is what a duel looks like. I hope you noted our movements – the way Professor Malfoy dodged my first spell for instance,” he instructs. “Please make your way to the duelling mats with your partners, and let's get started.”

For the next hour, Harry circles the room, correcting stances and incantations. He’s constantly aware of Draco’s presence, but he’s determined to stay on task, so he keeps his eyes and attention firmly on his students. Tries to, at least.

It’s the most distracted Harry has been while teaching, but no major mishaps happen and by the end of the hour, the students are tumbling out of the Room of Requirement, tired but still full of exuberance at having gotten a taste of hands-on defensive magic.

Satisfied, Harry starts rolling up the mats and putting away the training dummies. Draco joins him, and they work together in companionable silence – even if it is stretched taut with a tension Harry has gotten used to over months of working together.

As they put away the last of the mats, Draco turns to face Harry. “I was wondering,” he starts, maintaining eye contact but distractedly fiddling with his sleeves (which have been rolled up to his elbows at some point, revealing pale, corded forearms that Harry definitely has not been sneaking glances at), “if you would like to go on a date with me?”

Shocked surprise leaves Harry gaping at Draco in silence. He tries to find words, any words, but all his mind has to offer is an astoundingly articulate “uhhhhhh.”

“It’s just, I have asked you before, or at least I thought I had, what with the invitations to drinks and dinner, but I don’t think I was clear enough,” Draco barrels on in an attempt to fill the silence. “So, I’m uh, being clear now. I hope.” He coughs, cheeks steadily pinking.

“You’re gay?” Harry blurts out without thinking, and of course, that has to be what comes out first. 

Draco’s eyebrows rise to meet his hairline. “Yes, Harry, I am indeed gay. Something that literally every student and professor at Hogwarts knows,” he says slowly, before looking around in bemusement. “What on Earth–” 

And that’s when Harry realises the Room of Requirement is echoing with It's Raining Men.

Oh, no. Cheeks burning, Harry quickly reins in his rogue magic. “The Room can be weird at times,” he fibs, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding all eye contact.

“Right...” Draco drags out skeptically. Visibly moving past it, he asks, “So, dinner?”

Excitement frizzes through Harry’s veins, crackling in his stomach. “Dinner sounds good,” he agrees, trying to temper his grin. 

Draco smiles, his shoulders relaxing, eyes warm and pleased. Harry thinks he could get lost in those mercurial depths. 

But then confusion, followed by realisation, and finally, amusement steals into Draco’s gaze. His shoulders start to shake with mirth. Baffled, Harry pulls himself out of his thoughts to ask what’s so funny, when his ears are assaulted with Celine Dion singing her lungs out.

“The Room acting out again?” Draco asks, all faux innocence, barely able to contain his laughter.

Horrified, Harry buries his face – now beetroot red – into his hands and fervently wishes for the sweet release of death.

He hears Draco chuckle and then feels gentle fingers prying his hands away from his face. Cringing, he meets Draco’s bright gaze. “So, my magic reacts oddly sometimes,” he offers weakly. 

“I noticed,” Draco informs him, and closes the inches between them to press his lips to Harry’s. 

Harry freezes in surprise for a second before he’s moving, tilting his head and interlacing their fingers. He can feel Draco smiling into the kiss and he’s alight with it.

In the background, Freddy Mercury croons, I’m trav’ling at the speed of light.

for @vukovich who, among other things, said they like magical hijinks and oblivious harry. also for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: parallel. i tried to inject some of Vuk’s energy into this re: weirdness, but i’m not sure how successful i was 😂 i hope you like it Vuk!

thank you to @curlyy-hair-dont-care for the beta!

read on ao3

#drarry #drarry fic #wheel of drarry mini exchange #really just a funny idea that wouldn't go away #drarry microfic

[pitaparka]

a friend in need is a friend indeed

request: would you ever write a reader/jj/john b three way? only write what ur comfortable with. i love reading your stuff!!!!

summary: reader, jj, and john b. are drunk. really drunk. handsome teenage boys make for fun parties and willing threesomes.

pairings: jj maybank x reader, john b. x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: unprotected sex, protected sex, vaginal sex, male on female oral sex, female on male oral sex, drunk sex

a/n: dont have unprotected sex :(  i hope every time you think of having unprotected sex, you picture your own conception. i’d also like for people to know i write outer banks, marvel, star wars, and more! i’m still taking requests, so maybe send in an ask for an idea you’ve had in your head for a while? and we can be friends? okay, big love. later!

The alcohol was overkill. She had to admit.

It’s why she was holed up in some random boy’s kitchen, house party ensuing around her as she macked on JJ.

Her arms fit perfectly around his waist in the bright fluorescent light of the kitchen. Their lips work together, sloppy and inexperienced, but full of nerves and nerve endings that send electricity through their veins.

John B. watches from the doorway.

JJ’s hands move from her waist down to her ass, squeezing for his own pleasure. She smiles into the kiss.

“What’s up, guys?” John B. interrupts. He seemed perturbed more than angry. 

She pulls away from JJ, but keeps her arms around his neck.

“I can smell the alcohol on you,” he says, smiling at her. He moves closer to them, the loud music from the living room making it hard to hear. There are people around them too, talking obnoxiously.

“You know what would be great right now?” She says, and John B. squints at her.

“What?” He says, giving in to his curiosity. The beer he’s holding is cold and sweaty in his warm hand.

JJ leans over, her arms still around his neck, to take a sip from a red solo cup.

“Just, like… sex. Good sex.” She complains, and JJ almost chokes.

“You’re crazy.” Says John B., but he’s not entirely sure she’s kidding.

“No, she’s drunk,” argues JJ hypocritically. 

“Would you guys fuck me?” she asks, and both of their eyes widen. Before they can say anything, she reveals, “I’d trust you guys to fuck me. You seem like you’d be a nice fuck.”

JJ leans in, and says just loud enough for John B. to hear, “We could always find out?”

She gasps and pulls away from him, laughing loudly, smile wide.

John B. licks his lips and places his beer down on the kitchen counter. 

“Not now,” he says, significantly less drunk than the other two.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” JJ asks, and she grabs John B. by the arm, interlocking them.

“Right here,” she sings sweetly, and John B. doesn’t pull away.

“Oh, I’m your boyfriend now? What happened to that other guy?” He questioned, and she blushed into his shoulder.

JJ gives John B. a look.

She smiles sweetly up at him.

“Would you fuck me, John B?” She asks again, and John B. hates that he can feel himself getting a little aroused.

He huffs at her. “Not here,” he replies, and she whines.

“Aw, John B., don’t be like that.” She pouts dramatically.

“I’ll have JJ do it then,” she says, reaching out for JJ. He sandwiches her between the two and she leans her head back against JJ’s chest. His hands are on her waist again and she feels him move to the music against her. She leans up and kisses John B. on the chin.

“No you won’t,” John B. clarifies, and he pulls her closer to him, so that JJ glares, and moves closer.

“You both are drunk,” he says, only on his second beer. The folding table in the living room has different ‘levels’ of alcohol, each increasing in strength with color. He swore he’s seen JJ with at least three different colored cups in the time they’ve been there. Which hasn’t been long. 

“No, no, I’ll…” she starts, but giggles, distractedly.

“I’ll let the both of you… do it.” She states coyly.

“ But you have to do it together,” she smiles, and the boys look at each other.

“No way,” John B. says, bluntly, arms crossed over his chest.

JJ stares at him.

“I just won’t look. It’s not like I haven’t seen your dick before,” he argues, and John B. is not drunk enough for this. 

JJ definitely is.

“It’d be really hot, John B.,” she encourages.

“No. I’m not gay.” He says, finally. 

“Neither am I, but she’s offering, bro,”

“It’s not gay, if it’s in a three way,” JJ sings horribly and lowly to John B. She giggles at them, and rubs her hand slowly up and down John B.’s arm. 

He sighs loudly.

“I’m not touching your dick, JJ, so don’t even think about it,” 

“I don’t want to touch your dick!” JJ cries, and people around him glare at the outburst. John B. shushes him.

“Is that a yes?” she asks, and John B.’s shoulders fall as he pinches his nose.

“Yeah. I guess.” He agrees, and she lets out an excited moan that shouldn’t make him so hot and bothered, but it does.

“Yay! Come on, come on,” she encourages, and both boys are following her into some poor soul’s bedroom. It’s definitely the bedroom of a teenage boy, bare and brightly lit by a red neon playboy sign. The full sided bed has a navy blue comforter and there are trophies that line his dresser. The boys look at each other, taking in the room. She makes no effort to remember it, because she’s already unbuttoning her shorts and collapsing on the half-made bed. Her legs lay off the side of the bed, for easy access of course, and she stretches, hands reaching up for the pillows haphazardly thrown at the head of the bed. Her shirt rolls up a little, and she rubs her hands over her skin, playing with the hem of it. 

She finds it funny that though he was reluctant, John B is the first one to strip down to his briefs, and she can see his half hard-on. He goes to take himself out, ready to peel her out of her remaining clothes, but she has other ideas.

“No no, not yet.” she says, and she sits up. She grabs John B. by the shoulders, and pushes him down to his knees. He looks unaware of what she wants him to do. She grabs his hair at the scalp, and slowly tugs him between her legs. He gets the hint, and she watches as John B. wiggles off her shorts and underwear.

JJ fumbles with her bra behind her. She watches these clueless boys with a smile.

He ends up just tugging it over her head and tossing it on the floor along with her other clothes.

She feels John B.’s tongue, abrupt and fast and vastly uncomfortable.

“Woah, slow down there, partner,” she says, and with her hand on his head again, she guides him with slow, stroke strokes of his tongue. 

“Much better,” she encourages, and she lays back, one hand down by her side, the other rubbing small circles into her clit.

She sticks her tongue out for JJ, and he makes quick work of shimmying out of his shorts. He doesn’t even bother taking off his boxers, his member already throbbing hard and pulsing in his hand. He gives it a couple of strokes before guiding onto her lips.

“Ohhh, aw, fuck,” JJ says, her lips and tongue teasing the tip of his cock as John B. gets to work on her entrance. He’s down between her legs, just like she showed him, teasing and licking and kissing as she rubs fast circles with her fingers.

He does something to make her moan, and JJ stops to watch.

“Oh, fuck, John B.,” she whines, “d-do that again,” 

And he complies, fucking his tongue in and out between her velvet folds, head bobbing rhythmically, fast, as she picks up the pace with her own fingers.

JJ decides he wants in on the fun, and he kneels by her head, tilting her neck up to plant firm kisses there, hard enough to bruise.

She lets out breathy gasps at the attention, and it only encourages the boys further. 

John B. grips her hips hard as JJ takes a hand to play with her breasts, nipples peaked and stiff under his heavy touch. Her other hand comes up to cup JJ’s, and he continues his unyielding kisses as she guides him, showing him exactly the amount of pressure she wants. As soon as he’s got it down, he pulls his head away to watch her unravel underneath him. Her head tilts back and she grinds her hips along John B.’s tongue.

There are whimpers from her and wet sounds from John B. and soft panting from JJ as he takes his other hand to rub himself, stroking his cock leisurely. 

“Oh my god, this is better than porn,” JJ comments, but both of the others ignore it. 

“Right there, John B., right there, fuck,” she curses, and closes her eyes to immerse herself in the moment.

“Just like that, perfect,” she encourages, and John B. licks and plunges his tongue deep, and removes it again to rub circles at her clit, replacing her hand. His tongue is wet and he licks long stripes up and down her length.

“Fuck, oh fuck, just—faster, John B., just like that.”

John B. circles his tongue faster, and it only takes a few moments for her to gasp and buck her hips up, so much so that he has to pressure her hips down to keep her there, toes curling, her legs over his shoulders, trying not to squeeze his head.

She whines and moans, and JJ has to stop touching himself because he feels like he’s going to blow his load right there on the floor.

“Oh, fuck, John B.,” she pants, and John B pulls away, watching her womanhood contract at his touch, wet cum framing where he was about to plunge his cock.

She smiles dopily at the ceiling. He is ragingly hard and almost ready to cum. 

“Guess what guys?” She starts, breathy, and they stare at her.

“I brought condoms!” She whispers excitedly, gesturing to her pants on the floor.

Normally, they’d protest, but they’re so horny they’d take any opportunity to cum inside of her.

John B. struggled with her pockets, but, condom in hand, he rips one open, pinches the tip, and rolls it onto his hard cock. It fits, and he admires her.

He rubs his cock over her entrance, playing with the wetness, and she gasps and shudders when he rubs it over her clit.

He smiles arrogantly, and slowly pushes his head in. It doesn’t take much effort, thanks to her orgasm.

He slowly makes his way in, and JJ starts stroking again, standing up to place his cock on her lips. She purses them slightly, and JJ rubs back and forth over them. John B. moans form between her legs.

JJ grabs her chin firmly, and she looks up at him with doe eyes, moaning as she opens her mouth and lazily takes just the tip.

She hollows out her cheeks around him, and he takes in a shaky breath.

John B. pumps fast inside her, pulling out halfway and pushing back into her, holding her hips with a strong grip. She thinks it might bruise, but she doesn’t care. 

All of a sudden John B.’s strokes get more erratic, faster and harder than before. His breathing is fast, and she watches him as his eyes close and his head falls back, strong, slow thrusts now.

He cums, hands on her hips, cock buried deep inside her, his groans filling the space between them. His strokes are calculated, milking every single drop from himself before pulling out and collapsing on the bed next to her.

“You’re next, JJ,” John B. jokes, and JJ doesn’t say anything, moving to take his spot.

He pushes into her, and she notices. Every ridge, every vein on his cock she can feel.

JJ’s strokes are slow and deliberate to start, but then he starts to pick up speed, as does his breathing. It’s only a few seconds before he’s close.

He pumps fast and hard, with reckless abandon for a few moments before he pulls out quickly, and jerks his shaft, concentrating on the tip.

He cums all over her stomach and groans loudly right after, coating her chest with his thick white cum. He grabs a fist full of the bedspread as he shudders.

JJ lets his shoulders fall, and he hunches over. He plants kisses to the inside of her knees, and she giggles, pulling them away. He smiles at her.

There’s heavy breathing from all three of them. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” she comments, and the boys chuckle.

“Yeah John B., nothin’ to be afraid of, man.” JJ pants, running a hand through his hair. He tugs his boxers up over his thighs and tucks his now soft cock back into them, looking around the floor for his shorts.

“Shut the fuck up, JJ,” he says, getting up to find his pants as well.

She lays there, and one of the boys toss her a small pile of her clothes onto the bed.

JJ stares at her once he’s clothed, his seed still on her stomach.

He sighs. He hates this part.

“Go back to the party,” JJ says to John B., “I’ll clean up.” 

John B. looks at him suspiciously.

“Really,” JJ assures, gesturing to her slowly more competent state. She stares at the cum on her stomach.

“It’s okay,” she assures, but JJ is there, using some poor soul’s discarded t-shirt as a rag. It doesn’t smell as far as she can tell, and it’s soft. 

As soon as he’s done, and throws the t-shirt into a corner of the room.

“Uh, okay. We’re gonna go now,” he says, even though John B. left already.

“Okay.” She agrees. JJ slowly makes his way out of the room.

She sits up and gets dressed, ready to make her way back to the party, when John B. enters the room again.

“Where’s JJ?” He questions, making his way over to her swiftly.

“He went back to the party. I thought—” she starts, but John B.’s mouth is on hers, salty and sweet, passionate and slow. His hand grabs the back of her neck and pulls her closer, impossibly so, and there’s teeth and even some tongue.

He pulls away.

“That’s for kissing JJ earlier, in front of me,” he clarifies, and she doesn’t tell him he tastes like her.

She smiles as she watches him leave. His shirt was on backwards. 

#jj maybank x reader #jj imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank outerbanks #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #john b x reader #john b x you #john b x y/n #john b outer banks #john b #john b outerbanks #jj maybank imagine #john b imagine #outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outerbanks imagine #smut

[thosewickedlovelies]

The answer  |  Frankie Morales x GN!Reader x Santiago Garcia

Summary: Questions are asked and answered. Takes place immediately following “Ask me”

Rating: E for Explicit

Tags: SMUT, threesome, reader is penetrated; best friends who have always been a little bit in love with each other vibes (inspired by this photo)

Word Count: 1,743

A/N: I’ve been kinda wanting to challenge myself to do a gender-neutral smut piece, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to do so :) I’ve never written anything like this before (in terms of both the gender-neutrality and the gay vibes), so I’m open to (gentle) constructive criticism <3

--

“Worry about me later, baby,” Frankie urges. “Right now what I want is to take care of you.” Nectar drips from his voice like that fateful fruit, slicking your descent toward sweet surrender.

"Or watch me take care of you, anyway,” Santiago adds. Still crouched on his knees before you, lips glistening, the round of his spine suggests laser-focus, a predator about to pounce. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but the look in eyes is deferent as he glances over your shoulder to Frankie.

Your partner’s body enfolds you like a silk hammock, a warm, rippling sea in which you have no fear of drowning. Frankie’s chest is bare and smooth against your back, supporting you as if he’s only here to reinforce your pleasure, and not partake of it himself. Although if his words from moments ago were any indication, he was indeed getting his own enjoyment:

“Too good to me, baby,” murmured through sloppy kisses and removing clothes.

“Fuck, you look so good between us,” groaned into your ear while you squirmed, callused fingers on your nipples and Santi's mouth on your neck.

“Yeah, let me hear you,” satisfaction barely audible over the irrepressible moan that Santi drew from you as he slowly worked you open.

Meaningfully Frankie skates his palms down over your hips, dipping tantalizingly close to the burning between them before winging away. Fingers digging into the plush flesh, he spreads your thighs for Santi.

Again. The air vanishes from your lungs at Frankie’s gesture.

He keeps you pinned open as Santiago inches forward and you’re certain you’re trembling, even as fresh arousal wells in anticipation. This feels so much more, somehow- suddenly immediate and undeniable that you’re really here, about to be fucked by your boyfriend’s best friend while said boyfriend holds you open for him.

Perhaps because this isn’t just affecting you. You note, through the throbbing heat demanding your attention, the tension in Frankie’s body framing you. How careful Santi is about where he places his hands- on you or the couch, no longer bold and teasing with Frankie. The skitter of his gaze, like he doesn’t know quite where to focus now that he’s facing both of you so directly. You wonder where Frankie is looking.

When Santi is finally nestled to the base inside you, an inch for every panting breath, you’re not the only shaky one. His muscles quiver with the effort of holding himself over you, the feeling of you engulfing him threatening to overwhelm his good sense. For a moment there is only the strained rise and fall of your chests as both men wait for you to adjust. It’s akin to being rocked by the swells of an ocean, only in this case your anchor is Santiago, keeping his hips flush with yours, keeping you present on the delicious, searing stretch of his cock.

Frankie’s tongue on your neck makes you shiver, and Santi gasps when you clench around him. Smiling, you admire the gleam of sweat at his temples, the desperate lines around his squeezed-shut eyes. It’s difficult to maneuver yourself in this position, but you arch your body into his as best you can, giving him permission to move with a squeeze of his muscular ass.

A raspy laugh slips from him. It’s a bit clumsy at first- accommodating to the weave of limbs in which the three of you are entangled. Possibly this would be easier on a bed or even the floor, but it’s far too late to move now, lost in each other as you are. You know the boys would agree- even if you had the opportunity to be transported with merely a snap of the fingers, it feels right that this should happen here, on a slightly cramped couch, stifling smiles and snorts of laughter but never your eagerness for each other.

Santiago is impossibly beautiful like this. Every hard-earned muscle on display, working in harmony to the cadence that’s always swayed the three of you, however unconsciously. His eyes half-lidded and hazy, his little groans of effort and pleasure complementing Frankie’s caresses. It’s clear from Frankie’s own awed murmurs that he’s experiencing the same bliss you are, and he lets his hands linger on your front so his knuckles brush Santi’s torso. Like strings on a loom pulling gradually tighter, the design you three are creating becomes steadily clearer.

“Damn,” Frankie says hoarsely. The angle of your head prevents you from seeing his expression fully, but you make a wordless sound of wholehearted agreement.

“Mm?” Santiago hums in question despite his own daze, spying something in Frankie’s face that you missed.

“Just…it’s obvious which one of us aged better.”

Frankie’s voice is strained, his body tense. He’s been hard since the moment Santiago said yes, but a tangible slippery patch has grown against your back while the other man rocked in and out of you, long, measured strokes making an easy smear of Frankie’s cock.

Santi looks up, startled. Then his smile crooks. “Shut up, Frank,” he laughs, and the kiss to your shoulder doesn’t feel like it’s for you.

Frankie chuckles, raspy and affectionate, and it’s like the picture is finally identifiable, an outline of this potential future woven clear.

The turn of your head gets their attention. Santiago slows his hips as you stretch your neck toward Frankie, his lips just reachable in this position. But Santi’s thrusts still entirely when you face him next, your kiss brim-full of the same contentment you’d given Frankie. Something fraught flickers between the two men when you pull back; Santiago looks almost shy as, hesitantly and then all at once, he presses his lips to the corner of Frankie’s mouth for a lingering, reverent second.

Frankie’s eyes close and his head tips back as Santi drops his forehead to your shoulder. His curls catch on the bristly hair of Frankie’s jaw, steady, rhythmic again, and you’re not sure of the delineations between your bodies anymore. You feel full, in more ways than one, surrounded both physically and emotionally.

Frankie’s moans are music to your ears as you reach behind you, stroking his cock as best you can while semi-laying on it. Fuck, his husky sounds never fail to heat your blood- a new experience for Santiago, you’re guessing, from the way his eyes flare, fixed on his friend’s dropped-open mouth. There’s been no particular hurry to your activities thus far, but a sense of urgency is growing now, blossoming with every drag of skin on skin, every throaty plea weighting the humid air.

It’s not long before Santi’s grasp on your shoulder slips, flushed with sweat as you are. Fumbling, he braces himself on Frankie’s broader frame, and your partner holds his hand in place, unthinking. Santiago swears. He looks you over, eyes a little wild, then back up at Frankie, imploring.

Obliging, Frankie’s other hand snakes down your front, fingers searching, circling where you’re most sensitive. Distantly you’re aware of him rutting against your back, tiny whines scraping his throat with a familiar desperation. Everything in you tightens around the slick jerk of his fingers.

You cry out as you come, hips arching into Santiago, flattening Frankie’s hand between you. Santi gasps ragged and guttural as you spasm around him, and your rapture careens abruptly higher at the speed and force with which he’s suddenly slamming into you. A jumble of hands hold your shuddering frame in place as Santiago finds his own release, shoving the three of you impossibly deeper into each other.

For a moment it feels as if you’re floating, your body tethered only by the bruising clutch of your hands and theirs. As your awareness returns, you notice that Frankie is rigid behind you, still quivering, his lower half contorted as if to gain as much contact with your skin as possible.

Oh. There’s far too much wetness against your back for it to just be sweat.

A giddy, dreamy laugh wisps from your next exhale. Frankie doesn’t react, but Santi rolls his head to face you with a drowsy hm?

You disentangle one of your hands and lift it to gently rub Frankie’s scalp with your fingertips, tousling the curls as if scratching a pet’s ears. “Just glad we were all able to make it.” Your still-breathless tone carries your meaning. You twist your head to kiss the nearest bit of him, which happens to be his jaw.

Santi lifts his head, his expression somewhere between surprised and smug. Frankie only gives an airy shrug, inclining his head to mouth at your shoulder; the space now shared by both men’s faces.

“Meant what I said,” Frankie offers in his low voice. His gaze flits over what it can reach of Santiago’s naked body.

Surprise completely overtakes the smugness in Santi’s face, his mouth curving up as if he’s powerless to stop it. You observe in delighted disbelief. You know from experience how much it normally takes to make Santiago blush- yet here he is, all afluster at a few words from Frankie. Chuckling, Santi ducks his head again.

You wriggle sideways slightly so as to better see more of Frankie’s face, a shift that results in Santi leaning on him with his whole arm and flank. The thoughtful flicker of his eyes over Frankie’s further exposed torso doesn’t go unnoticed.

“We’ll see,” is all Santiago says; but his contentment is palpable, his tiny smile a confession. Frankie relaxes as the other man collapses again, this time with his head more on Frankie’s shoulder than yours.

The sun is past its peak now, longer shadows interrupting its shine through the windows, but the three of you don’t need it. You can all but see the afterglow illuminating, the way the filaments of a lantern gradually brighten as they warm, casting gentle light on the possibilities presented here.

You regard Santi with an indulgent smile. You sweep it up to Frankie next, softening at the sight of his unruly hair and the relief with which he returns it. There’s an unspeakable kind of gratitude mingling with the adoration in his eyes. As if his thanks could possibly be necessary; as if you would have ever denied either of them the opportunity to explore such long-contained feelings, no matter what your original proposition for this afternoon may have been.

“Next time,” Frankie murmurs, his lips brushing Santiago’s brow, “we’re doing this in a bed.”

--

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb

#triple frontier fic #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #frankie x reader x santi #triple frontier imagine

[evilwriter37]

33 Vigcup please.

Of course! This was fun!

Rated: explicit

Warnings: none

Pairings: Hiccup/Viggo

Word Count: 1,087

Ao3 Link

"You're not going out dressed like that," Viggo said to Hiccup. His boyfriend was wearing a low-cut V-neck and tight leather pants that didn't leave much to the imagination. Did he look absolutely ravishing in it? Yes. Did Viggo want other people staring at his boyfriend with lust and desire? No.

"And why not?" Hiccup asked, turning to him, arms crossed over his chest. "I thought it looked nice. We are going to a club."

"Do you want men other than me looking at you?" Viggo asked. They were going to a gay club. It was the perfect setting for them. "They might want to fuck you, you know."

"And?" Oh, he was giving him sass tonight.

Viggo took Hiccup by the hips. "And I'm the only one allowed to fuck you and see you wearing that." Viggo moved his mouth towards Hiccup's ear, kissed at it, nibbled on the lobe. He rutted his hips against Hiccup's. He liked the way he looked in those pants, but they might look even better on his floor. "Do you understand?"

Hiccup took Viggo by the shoulders and sighed. "Yes, Viggo."

"Now, get undressed." Viggo was going to fuck Hiccup before he changed into something new. It just made sense to do it. He patted him on the ass, then stepped away, watching Hiccup as he pulled his shirt off and then began undoing his belt. Mm, his body was delectable. He didn't even know how desirable he was. He thought poorly of himself, something Viggo wanted to fix.

"You did that on purpose," Viggo accused as Hiccup's pants came off to show his half hard cock.

"Always a good excuse to have sex with you," Hiccup said. He stepped out of the pants, kicked them away. They did indeed look better on Viggo's bedroom floor.

Viggo came close again, taking Hiccup's cock in his hand. Hiccup gasped as he stroked him to full hardness. Then he was turning him around, grinding his hips against his ass. He himself had an erection from Hiccup's nudity, and he planned on fucking him hard. He stroked Hiccup while he ground himself against him, loving the feeling of pressure against his cock. Hiccup moaned.

"Get the lube," Viggo ordered, releasing Hiccup. Hiccup let out a desperate whine, turned to Viggo to kiss him on the mouth, and then was walking around the bed to the nightstand where they kept it. His ass looked wonderful and Viggo began undoing his belt and pulled out his cock. He stroked himself as he watched Hiccup.

Hiccup returned and handed the bottle to Viggo. He turned around for him like a good boy, leaned over with his hands on his knees.

"That's it," Viggo praised. He poured some lube into his hand, rubbed it along his fingers. Those fingers then found Hiccup's rim, pressed teasingly against it without going inside.

"Oh, please!" Hiccup gasped.

Viggo took Hiccup by the hip as he pushed two fingers into him. Hiccup's body could take it - he'd done this before. After all, he was about to take a thick, nine inch cock.

Hiccup moaned as Viggo scissored his fingers inside of him, widening his hole. Oh, he was so hot, and he felt soft like velvet. Viggo couldn't wait to get his cock inside of him.

Though, patience was important here. To make sure that Hiccup wouldn't be hurt, Viggo added a third finger. He rubbed them hard against Hiccup's prostate, and Hiccup gave a loud cry. His knees shook a little; his cock leaked.

"I can't believe you were going to let other men look at you in that," Viggo said. "That's just for me."

"Yes, Viggo."

"Good boy." Viggo removed his fingers, making Hiccup let out a desperate whine. He rubbed his cock between the cheeks of his ass, teasing him.

"Please, Viggo."

"Please, what?"

"P-please fuck me."

Viggo sighed dramatically, as if this was a chore of some sort and not sex that he would enjoy. "If you insist."

He pressed the head of his cock against Hiccup's stretched hole, slid into him, making Hiccup gasp. Viggo began thrusting slowly, trying to get himself completely sheathed in his body. Hiccup moaned, straightening, and Viggo wrapped his arm around his middle to help hold him up. Hiccup clung to that arm desperately, nails digging in. Viggo didn't mind.

Then he was in him completely, and he released a happy sigh. Hiccup always felt so good around his cock.

Hiccup tilted his head back against his shoulder as he started fucking him, beautiful moans leaving his mouth.

"Those pants look very good on my floor," Viggo told Hiccup. "Even better than they looked on you."

"You-you just like seeing me naked, don't you?" Hiccup panted.

"Of course."

Then, there was no talking. Viggo picked up the pace, and Hiccup writhed in his grip, absolutely lost in pleasure. Viggo loved the sounds of it, the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, Hiccup's high-pitched cries and moans. It was proof that he was hitting his prostate.

Hiccup was the first one to cum. He dug his nails harder into Viggo's forearm, probably drawing blood. A shout left him, his eyes closing tight. He came all over himself and the floor. They'd have to clean it before they left, but Viggo didn't mind.

Viggo kept on through his orgasm, enjoying the feeling of his passage contracting around him. He moaned quietly, lowly.

Hiccup was whimpering as Viggo continued past his orgasm. He knew he was over-sensitized from it, but he just couldn't help himself: he had to cum inside Hiccup.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Hiccup yelled, his voice nearing a scream.

"Almost there," Viggo growled. "Almost..."

Then he was releasing inside of him, his cock throbbing with pleasure, his toes curling in his shoes. He gasped, eyes rolling back a little. He held onto Hiccup hard, almost hard enough to break him.

It was finished. Viggo slid out of Hiccup. They were still holding onto each other, trying to catch their breath.

Finally, Viggo let go of Hiccup. He slicked a hand through his hair. "Now, darling, go put something else on. And pick those clothes up."

Hiccup nodded, quiet after the orgasm, probably in shock a little. He knelt to pick up the clothes, and if Viggo hadn't just fucked him, he would have gotten hard again.

He couldn't admire Hiccup all night though. They had places to be. So, he put his cock away, and went into the bathroom to clean up.

#asks #requests #smut #nsft #vigcup #hiccup haddock #viggo grimborn #httyd #how to train your dragon #rtte #race to the edge #fanfiction #writing

[mytwilightimagines13]

Pet, The Beginning (Part Seven)

Masterlist

Taglist: @aro-is-gay-af @vamp-army @raindancer2004 @like-rain-or-confetti @volturidoll13 @kpopgirlbtssvt @avyannadawn @alexavolturisblog @alecvolturiswifeforever @imaginetwilight2704 @develin13

(Taglist is open! Send me a message if you want to be added!)

Word count: 1304

28th of February 2006 Volterra, Italy

As I made my way towards the elevator with the silver platter filled with mail securely in my hands, I felt my heel get stuck under a loose stone, making me fall. The silver platter clattered against the stone floor and the letters scattered all over it. A sharp pain shot through me from my knee. I gasped softly before quickly getting on my knees and picking the letters up, sorting them yet again by name for each of the three brothers. “Well, well Piccolina. Look at this Demetri. Isn't this a sight to behold?” I heard Felix's voice coming from in front of me. “Hmm, yes, it is my friend. Bella Mandy on her pretty little knees. I told you dreams come true, Felix.” Demetri's taunting voice reached my ears and a deep red blush crawled onto my cheeks. “They do indeed.” Felix agreed. I looked up and was about to stand up as is required when someone of the guard or the Masters came by, but Demetri held up his hand. “Do not bother, Micetta. Even though we enjoy the view very much, we have to get going. No need for you to leave this delicious position.” and with a wink from both of them they left as quickly as they came. I blushed deeply again and quickly gathered myself and the letters. “Bloody vampires.” I muttered. It was not fair. The reaction these creatures were able to get out of me was simply unfair. I slowly rose to my feet and a dull pain became present again in my knee. I quickly looked down and saw I had scraped it, but there was so blood thankfully. Very well, I would deliver the letters and then take care of the minor wound. I quickly took the elevator up to the Masters quarters. I checked my reflection yet again in the mirror and apart from some slight dark circles underneath my eyes, due to a bad nights rest last night, I looked alright. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing the shared living space yet again. Only this time all five vampires that belonged to the coven were present. The brothers were sitting/standing around the table in the middle that was now even more covered with books and maps while the wives were sitting on the couches near the fireplace. All their eyes fell on me the moment I entered, ensuring the visions of that dream came back yet again but I tried my best to keep my cool and to not let the blush reach my cheeks. Marcus his usual sad face slightly cracked and a tiny smile fell over his almost petrified features. The wives smiled brightly and quickly stood next to their husbands while Aro and Caius shared a quick glance followed by a playful smirk. “Buon pomeriggio, Masters, Mistresses. I have come to deliver today's mail.” I quickly said, bowing my head slightly. “Buon pomeriggio, Stellina! How lovely to see you today.” Aro said as he stood up from his chair. Sulpicia leaned over the back of the chair he had just occupied and smiled a seductive smile towards me. “Hello, Neonata. You look absolutely ravishing today.” she said, her eyes traveling over my body. Caius closed his book and turned around fully, leaning against the table while Athenodora stood beside him, her arms crossed in front of her chest while a finger twirled a long strand of blond hair around her finger. Marcus stood up from his chair as well and looked like he wanted to rush towards me yet restrained himself. “Buon pomeriggio, Cara. I do hope you bring something exciting today. This day has been rather dull until you stepped inside.” Marcus said as his eyes as well travelled over my body but finally resting on my face. He beckoned me to step towards them and I obeyed. “I am not sure Master. But there is a letter from America for Master Aro.” I said as I held out the silver tray to Aro so he could grab the letters before moving onto Caius and finally Marcus. “Oh, how lovely. It is a letter from Carlisle!” Aro almost squealed making Sulpicia and Caius roll their eyes and Athenordora giggle softly. “Really, my love. Maybe you should seduce him and have him in your bed for a week so you can get this affection with him out of your system.” Sulpicia said as she wrapped her arms around his

shoulders as soon as he sat back down. “Oh, if only, mia amata. But I am afraid Carlisle is as straight as they come.” Aro said dreamily. Caius just laughed. Not a sinister laugh but a whole hearty laugh. One I never thought he was able to produce. “Sia, don't you know that Carlisle’s ignorance to Aro's affections is the main reason Aro keeps pursuing him?” he said while opening his own letters. “Hm, I guess you are right, brother.” Sulpicia said and she ducked down to kiss her husband's cheek in a loving way making Aro chuckle. I quietly watched this take place, waiting until I was dismissed, and I felt very out of place. As if I was intruding in a family's day to day life where I had no place in. Marcus smiled softly and was about to say something as well when his eyes fixated on me. The others soon followed and before I knew it the five vampires surrounded me, checking my body. “What happened?” “Who hurt you?” “Are you hurt anywhere else but your knee?” “Who do we have to kill?” I was overwhelmed by their sudden attention and tried to take a slight step away but found I was closed in. I looked down and saw that the scrape at my knee had started to bleed. “Oh, I am so sorry! I fell over a loose stone in the floor before I came up here. I figured since it didn't bleed, I could attend to it after delivering your mail. My sincere apologies for my mistake.” I quickly said, hoping this wouldn't make me end up as their meal today. The five vampires took a slight step back, allowing me to look at each of their frowning expressions. Aro took a step back in my direction, holding his hand out. “May I, Stellina?” he gently asked. I bit my lip and wanted to scream no as loudly as I could. He would figure out my dreams. My little fantasies. Great. This is it! I am dead! “It is just to make sure you really are alright. I promise you that.” he said as gently as he could. I bit my lip and slowly let my trembling hand slide into his. Aro's other hand gently placed over mine while his gift sought through my mind. I knew he had found the dreams and fantasies soon as when he released me a wide smirk was on his face. His fingers gently caressed my cheek as he tried to look nice, but that smirk remained on his face. “Calmati, mia Stellina. You will not be punished for anything. I promise you that.” he said he took a few steps back and I could swear I saw his lips move but he spoke so soft my human ears couldn't pick up what he was saying. However, every last vampire in the room gained an almost identical smirk on their faces and if I could have sunken through the floor right now, I would have taken it. “Don't worry, Cara. Follow me, we will take care of that wound for you.” Marcus said as he took a step towards me again and held his arm out for me to grab. I slowly wrapped my arm around his and let him guide me towards his quarters.

Next Part

#aro volturi #caius volturi #marcus volturi #demetri volturi #felix volturi #sulpicia volturi #athenodora volturi #twilight imagine #volturi #twilight #volturi imagine #pet

[dcbutinamrev]

can i get historical lams-ish where laurens finds out one of the other soldiers is in a relationship with another man and laurens helps tell the soldier it's okay because he's also in a gay relationship

As always, ask and ye shall recieve! (There might be some small angst...)

***

Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens sighs dreamily as he stands by his and Hamilton's shared cot in their tents. He smiles wearlly as he combs his fingers through his lover's bright auburn locks, tilting his head a little as he watches Hamilton sleep. Hamilton sighs peacefully, muttering in his sleep before curling himself up into a small cocoon with the bedsheets tucked up towards his chin as he snuggles into the pillow, thinking Laurens was still in bed with him.

Laurens chuckles to himself, shaking his head fondly as he leans down to press a kiss to Hamilton's forehead, right between his brows. Hamilton smiles in his sleep as Laurens goes to grab his blue Continental coat off the back of his chair at his desk, sliding his sleeves through and adjusting his ruffled cuffs and soothing out his lapels. Laurens ties his honey-blonde hair up in a tight braid, securing it with the dark blue ribbon. He grabs his sword nearby and slides it into its sheath and grabs a pistol, sliding it into its holster before grabbing his black tricorn hat and situating it comfortingly on Laurens's head. He glances back over his shoulder at Hamilton in the bed, soft cooes escaping his half-parted lips. Laurens smiles again, a thin smile, before pressing his lips to Hamilton's. Once, twice, three times before finally leaving his tent. The flap of the tent fluttering shut behind him.

Laurens walks along the line of tents in camp, heading towards General Washington's tent for his assignments and orders. Laurens sighs as he enjoys the peace of mother nature, the beauty of it. He breathes in the cool warm breeze of early Spring, watching the birds flap their wings as they chirp, flying along the dark blue sky. Dusk becoming dawn in a matter of seconds. If Laurens had to guess, it's probably around 5:30 in the morning, or perhaps 6:00 at the latest.

It's peacful with the other soldiers sleeping soundly in their tents, the horses pitched by the soldiers tents, sleeping as well. As Laurens walks by, he notices a few soldiers were already awake, getting themselves ready for the day or already beginning to do thier tasks or just simply eating and/or walking about like Laurens is now.

As Laurens slowly makes hsi way towards the General's tent down the end of the road, Laurens hears soft grunts and hushed whispers coming from near by. Laurens skids a stop when he nears the tent he heard the sounds from, furrowing his brows together with confusion, a crease shows in his forehead. Laurens tilts his head as the sounds grow louder as he approaches the tent a few tents down. He knows those sounds, he knows what they mean.

Laurens's heart pounds against his chest as he cautions himself, grabbing the hilt of his sword just in case, slowly rising it out of its sheath as he nears the tent's flap. He peeks through the cracked entranceway slightly, frowning with concern and confusion. Inside he shadows along the tent's walls, a body's shadow figure, hunched over something..or...better yet...someone. The inside of the tent glows with a faint yellow light. Laurens knows instantly it's a candle. Curious, Laurens presses his ear agaisnt the tent's walls, keep himself out of the field of vision, his hand gripping around the sword's hilt.

The grunts grow louder and the breathing becomes labored. Laurens furrowes his brows deeper as he frowns, tilting his head to hear the conversation inside. Though he has a feeling he knows what's going on. His stomach twists with nervousness as he begins to eavesdrop.

"Rob," a voice grunts and pants sharply. Laurens quirks an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued. He listens in. "We can't! T-The soliders--"

"Now, now, my Oliver," a second voice, slightly deeper than the first who Laurens guesses must be "Rob", teases. He hears "Rob" growl low before Laurens seens the shadow dive down.

His face pales and his eyes widen with realization and his expression softens to one of understanding. He smiles slightly, knowing their risks, knowing their fear, understanding what they are.

"Rob," "Oliver" grunts. Laurens can see with thier shadows flickering faintly, Oliver has hands on Rob's chest, forcing him to stop. "Please. I...I want to do this too...badly...as much as you...but, my dear, if...if we...if someone were to walk in--"

"Shh," Rob says. "Let's not worry about that, my love. As long as you remain quiet, we shall be well."

As soon as Rob dives down, Laurens takes this oppurtunity to knock on the tent's flap. Rob yelps with surprise while Oliver gasps, sitting himself back up and quickly grabbing the sheets to cover himself up while Rob quickly dresses back into his Continental uniform. Oliver rolls onto his side, his back facing the entrance, pretending to be asleep while Rob scrambles towards his desk chair where Laurens now sees the lone candle flickering back and forth, and quickly grabs his quill and parchment pretending to be writing out a letter, smoothing out his deshevled brunette hair.

Laurens clears his throat, gaining Rob's attnetion as he slowly pokes his head through, peeling the tent's flaps slightly open. Rob tenses, clenches his jaw as he grips his quill hard, hard enough for it to nearly break in half when he sees Laurens enter, his hand still gripped on the hilt of his sword.

"Sir?" Rob says as he shakily stands from his seat, his arms clasped behind his back, chest puffed out slightly. He swallows hard, Laurens could see that, and licks his lips. "May I ask why you're here, Lieutenant Colonel, sir?"

Laurens sets his shoulders as he glances around the tent, his expression showing one of suspicion but he knows what they were doing. He has done this himself, after all.

Laurens pinches his lips and furrows his brows into a worried frown. "I heard some...commotion...going on in here as I was heading towards General Washington's tent. And I became worried and I wanted to make everything was alright."

Rob swallows hard as he keeps his eyes trained on Laurens's bright blue ones and nods once, sharp. "Yes, sir. Everything is well. I apologize if I had somehow managed to disturb you or startle you as I was...as I was..."

Laurens raises a prompting eyebrow but says nothing.

"I was...uh...getting ready for the day," Rob continues, his face turning a bright shade of red almost in a instant. Laurens could still see the lustful gaze in his eyes, desperately wanting to continue to share his intimacy with this "Oliver".

"Oh?" Laurens says.

"Yes."

"Hmm..." Laurens hums as he glances around the room again. "And what is your name, sir?"

Rob nods once again. "Lieutenant Carson, sir."

Laurens nods. "And him?"

Laurens gestures his head towads Oliver. He can see Oliver tense but he tries to remain "asleep."

Rob swallows, grimacing as he does. "Lieutenant Anderson, sir."

Laurens as he scans the room once more, noticing both soldiers tense. Laurens chuckles to himself as he puts both hands up beside him, to prove to them he comes in peace.

"At ease, sirs," Laurens says with a chuckle. "You are in no way shape or form in any harm."

"How can we trust you?" Oliver says, rolling back onto his side to face him. Rob tenses immediately, shooting Oliver a warning glare over his shoulder.

Laurens smiles as he begins to walk towards Oliver, to comfort him somehow, to somehow ease his fears. But is blocked by Rob with the tip of his sword nearly jabbing into Laurens's stomach. Laurens's breath hitches with surprise and his eyes widen slightly, as he himself grows tense. Rob scowls as he clenches his jaws.

"Don't you dare go near him," Rob says.

Laurens shoots both of his hands back up again. "I come in peace, sirs."

A pause. Rob and Oliver glance at each other hesitantly. Laurens smiles.

"I am one of you."

Confused yet curious at the same time, Rob slowly begins to lower his sword.

"What do you mean?" Rob asks.

Laurens smiles softly as he claps the man's shoulder. "I know what you two are." Another pause. "I am one myself."

It takes them a moment to figure out what Laurens means by this but once they do, their eyes widen with surpirse and smiles replaces their serious and frightened expressions and all the tension in the atmosphere eases at once.

Rob puffs out a breath of relief as he collapses down on the cot, putting his face in his, elbows on his knees. Oliver sits up on his knees to rub Rob's shoulders comfortingly. He glances up at Laurens.

"You're one of us?" Oliver says.

Laurens nods. "I am. I know how you two fear. I know what you two do. I do this myself."

Rob leans back agaisnt Oliver, gripping his wrist that's dangling over Rob's neck. "I thought for sure you were going to send us to General Washington, have him call us out or worse...hanged because of...well...you know..."

Laurens laughs as he pulls out the chair and flops down, taking off the tricorn hat and nods in understanding. "Indeed, I do. We fear that every day. But death shouldn't be a punishment for love. No matter the gender."

"What's yours?" Oliver says with a kind smile on his face. "What's he like?"

Laurens smiles as he vividly sees his Hamilton before him in his mind, letting out a breath. "Well..." Laurens glances back up at the men. "He's...he's just the most beautiful person I had ever laid my eyes on. He's sweet and kind, trusting and perhaps a little cocky from time to time. Intelligent. Very intelligent." A pause. Laurens frowns as he tries to figure out what else could best describe Hamilton. "Clingy. He's very clingy."

Rob and Oliver both chuckle at this. Rob jabs a thumb over his shoulder. "So is this one."

"Hey!" Oliver gasps, whacking Rob in the back of his head. "You didn't have to call me out like that, Robert!"

Robert winces and mumbles, "Ow" as he rubs the back of his head achingly chuckling along as he shifts himself around to face Oliver. He smiles fondly as he tucks a lose dark brown curl behind Oliver's ear. He glances at Laurens hesitantly. Laurens nods encourgingly, assuring them it's alright, as he leans back agasint the chair with crossed arms.

Laurens smiles wide as he watches the two kiss in front of them, relaxing as they now know they're not alone in this, his heart fluttering, wishing Hamilton were next to him.

Laurens thinks they would become great friends indeed.

#lams #lams oneshots #historical lams #my writing #writing #hamilton oneshots #amrev fandom #amrev #orignal male character(s) #histoircal #oneshots #long post #slight angst #alexander hamilton #john laurens #fanfic #lams fanfic #fanfic writer #requests #prompts #lams requests #forbidden love #anon requests #anon asks #flluff

[downondilaudid]

Not Just a Genius

This is a third part to Anatomy Lesson, second part to Secret Sex Buddy.

Requested: Yes

Prompts: None

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: Smut of course

“Never hide things from hardcore thinkers. They get more aggravated, more provoked by confusion than the most painful truths.”

― Criss Jami

You walked into work, your steps slightly slower than usual. You and Spencer had, let's call it a late night. Spencer had spent the night but took his own car to work to not raise any suspicion. You had arrived first, actually early for once, you assumed Spencer had stopped to get coffee. He had woken you up early this morning, horny as hell, forcing you to give him a blowjob, after that neither of you could go to sleep. You pulled out your phone getting ready to send him a text. 

Y/N: You better be bringing me some coffee. 

You stuffed your phone into your back pocket. “Gasp, is the one and only Y/N Y/L walking like she had some hot sexy time last night?” A voice teased from behind you. 

You let out a mix between a laugh and a scoff, “really, Pen?” 

She giggled, “oh please, you don’t need to be a profiler to tell you had a good time. So, who is this sex genius, do we know him?”

That’s one way to put it, you thought to yourself. You set your stuff down at your desk, Penelope hovering over you like a bee. 

“Don’t worry about it, Pen. You don’t know him.” You answered.

“Know who?” Another voice chimed in. 

You turned, seeing Spencer walk over to your desk, a drink carrier filled with two coffees in his hand. Before you could answer, Garcia took the opportunity to poke more fun at you. 

“Y/N’s supposed sex genius she was with last night. No girl walks like that unless she’s had a wild night.”

“Garcia!” You groaned out, running your hands over your face. 

“Oh, please, it’s only Spencer!” She laughed, before patting you on the head and bouncing off to her computer room. 

Spencer watched Garcia walk away, before turning back to you, “sex genius, huh?” He questioned, a smirk on his face.

“Her words, not mine.” You teased, grabbing your coffee from the carrier, taking a sip of the warm liquid.

Spencer rested his hand on your desk, leaning over you slightly, “hmm, so you don’t think I’m a sex genius, sweetheart?” His voice was low and teasing, a beautiful sound to hear in the morning. 

“I-uh, Spencer we’re at work!” 

“Please, baby? I really need you.” Spencer whined.

You rolled your eyes, turning in your chair so you were facing him directly, “go take care of yourself in the bathroom.” 

Spencer leaned in closer, his plump lip catching on his teeth, “please, sweetheart. Just suck me off real quick, we can go down to the file room. Remember last time we were there?” He leaned in once more so his lips were next to your ear, his next words came out in a low whisper, “you had such a hard time keeping quiet for me.” He brought his hand up, running it over your bottom lip. “I need you, baby.” 

Ugh, he knew exactly what buttons to push, he knew exactly what to do to get you to break. Luckily, your brain overpowered your body, and you pushed him back lightly, “no, Spence. We’re at work, you can fuck me later. Garcia’s already suspicious, and JJ already knows.” 

Spencer groaned lightly, he knew you were right, he was just too horny to accept it. 

Turns out Spencer would have to wait a while, you had a case. A case that took place in Austin, Texas, three men had turned up dead, all with the same M.O.

You took a step back, a finger placed against your chin in concentration. You and JJ were putting together a victim board, and so far you could only tell that these three men were all very openly gay. 

“They were all taken from different gay bars, the only connection is that they’re gay.” You stated.

“We’ll see what Garcia can find about their lives. It’s not against their sexuality. All unnecessary  wounds were done post-mortem, they either didn’t want to hurt them or are trying to make some sort of statement.” Hotch deciphered. 

You nodded along. 

You were talking to one of the officers, who, unfortunately, was being extremely unprofessional. He was making sexual jokes left and right, alluding to how “good he’d bet you’d be in bed.” It was revolting, you didn’t even know this man. 

“You’re sure this is all the gay bars in the area?” You questioned, pointing to a list of bars he had handed you. 

“That I know of, babydoll. Granted, I’m not gay.” He stated, adding a wink to the end of his statement. 

You cringed, trying your best to keep up a professional act, “alright, thank you.” 

He smirked at you, nodding his head, “anytime, doll, and I do mean anytime.”

You turned away rolling your eyes as you brought the list to Hotch, this case better be over quickly, you thought. 

Apparently, luck was on your side, the case had ended quickly. Apparently, a man had been frequenting these bars, picking out the most flamboyant men, killing them for media attention to bring awareness of the struggles the LGBTQ+ community goes through. His brother had recently taken his own life, due to avid bullying from his peers because of his homosexuality. 

The case was overall disturbing, and you couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and take a nice warm bath. 

You were clad in a towel, waiting for the bath to fill up, when a knock sounded through the room. You let out a sigh, praying that this conversation wouldn’t take away your warm bath. 

You peeked through the peephole, you could only see a torso, clad in a blazer, button-down shirt, and a tie. You unlocked the door, pulling it open to peek your head out. 

“What do you want, Spence? It’s late” 

He placed his hand against the door, pushing it open and slipping in. His eyes were dark, and filled with desire. “I saw that officer flirting with you earlier.” 

You groaned, “everyone did. It was so obvious.” Your hand tightened the towel on your body, walking into the bathroom to turn off the running faucet. You leaned over the side of the tub, your towel riding up your thighs.

Spencer hummed in approval behind you, one of his hands brushing gently up your thigh. “Why didn’t you stop him if it was so obvious?”

“I was trying to be professional, Spencer. A lot of women get hit on, we just choose to brush it off.” You reasoned. A yelp escaped your mouth when a hand yanked on your hair, the towel falling from your body onto the side of the tub. Spencer pulled you up, his clothed hips rocking into your bare ass. 

“Spencer” you sighed breathily, squirming lightly in his grip. 

He ignored you, his hands grabbing your elbows to pull you harder against him as he ground into you. “You know you’re mine, right?”

You nodded meekly, pressing your ass back against his crotch. “Please, just do something, Spence.” 

“I want to hear you say it, say you’re mine.” He whispered. Despite the two of you being unofficial, you were unofficially official. This was his way of letting you know, communicating through rough kisses and late nights, that the two of you were indeed exclusive. 

“I’m yours” you muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt him pepper kisses over your neck, working his way down to your shoulder blades. 

“Bend over the tub.” He commanded, grabbing your hair and pushing your head forward, you stumbled to your knees, crying out at the pain. His hand released your hair, digging into your hips, he shoved you forward so the front of your thighs hit the tub. 

You yelped once more, shooting your hand out into the warm water to keep yourself from falling headfirst into the bath. “Spencer, fuck” you groaned out.

He chuckled behind you, before landing a sharp slap to your ass. Your body jolted forward at the impact, a low moan falling from your lips. Spencer laughed, a genuine laugh, “you like that, baby? You like it when I mark your pretty little ass?” His hand came crashing down again, this time harder. 

You choked on a moan, your ribs digging painfully into the side of the tub. His hand rubbed the soft flesh of your ass, trailing down the back of your thighs and back up. 

A gasp left your lips as his hand dipped into your folds, sliding up and down slowly. “You’re so wet for me… how pathetic.” 

You whimpered lightly, trying to push yourself back onto his hand. You felt so amazingly filthy at that moment, his words should’ve hurt, they should’ve humiliated you, but instead, they only made you wetter. His hand retreated, “oh, no, no, sweet girl. You’ll get what I want when I want.” Spencer chided.

He loved seeing you like this, he loved making you like this, so desperate to be fucked. It made sense when you really thought about it, he was quite submissive in his workplace and dominating you gave him that authority that he craved.

His large hand crashed down onto your backside, and you yelped at the stinging, “shit!” One of your arms reached out of the water, grabbing onto the other side of the tub. You jolted forward as Spencer continued his assault on your backside, alternating between cheeks. 

Mewls and moans escaped your mouth, you tried your hardest to keep them in, praying you wouldn’t alert the team. The worst thing that could happen is someone coming to check on you and finding you naked, bent over the side of the tub, with Spencer at your backside.

“You look so pretty with my handprints all over your ass.” He muttered, his hands running over the soft flesh, kneading it ever so often. 

You hummed lightly at his words, subconsciously pushing back into his grip. A low chuckle left his mouth, you felt him lean over your back, his hard-on pressing up against your ass. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck, and his hand ran up your back to tug on your hair. Your arm bracing itself against the tub fell back into the water as your head was jerked back. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?” 

“Yes, yes, daddy.” It took every ounce of strength you had to resist pushing back against him. “Please, please-” you were cut off by a shriek as Spencer's hand smacked your ass once again. 

“I don’t think you are.” He teased, his fingers trailing up and down the burning flesh of your ass.

A moan left your mouth, not able to hold back, you pushed back against him, begging for friction. Spencer’s hand yanked so hard on your hair you were pulled from the tub, and onto your sore knees. Spencer’s breath was heavy against your ear as he whispered, “I’m starting to think you’re deaf with how much you’re disobeying.”

You whimpered lightly, “sorry, I’m sorry.” Despite your words, you rolled your hips, grinding your sore ass into his pelvis. 

Spencer growled at the friction, sighing angrily through his nose, “fine,” his hand released your hair, roughly grabbing your arms, he pinned them together behind your back with one hand. “You want to cum so bad? You’re going to cum.” 

Two of his fingers filled your pussy quickly, rubbing against your walls. “Fuck!” You cried, your head dropping forward with a strangled moan. Spencer’s hand holding your arms shoved forward, digging your ribs into the side of the tub.

“You’re going to cum on my fingers, again, and again, until I decide I want to fuck you.” He spat, his fingers curling as his hand picked up speed. 

Your back arched as your orgasm neared. Moans and mantras of Spencer’s name tumbling from your lips. “Spencer, Spencer-fuck, daddy.” 

He chuckled in your ear, his fingers working impossibly faster, “cum, cum on my finger.” 

A flash of white filled your vision, your eyes squeezed shut. Shivers ran up your spine, and your head tilted back with a moan. Spencer’s fingers didn’t stop their relentless pace, working you through your orgasm. 

“Hmm… again.” Spencer commanded, stopping momentarily to add a third finger. You groaned, leaning forward to try and escape the overstimulation. But, Spencer’s grip on your arms tightened, pulling your back onto his fingers. “Shit!” You yelled, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. The obscene sounds of his fingers working in and out of your went cunt filled the room. 

“Are you going to cum? You going to cum all over my fingers?” Spencer questioned, as his fingers brushed against your g-spot. 

Your thighs shook around his hand, groaning as your second orgasm coursed through your body. “Fuck-daddy, yes!” A sob tore through your mouth, your vocal cords strained and raw, all thoughts of the team completely disregarded. 

“Good girl” Spencer praised, his fingers slowing as you came down from your high. 

You panted, your shoulders aching from the grip Spencer had on your arms. “Please, please fuck me.” 

“With my fingers? Since you asked so nicely.” Spencer teased, a fourth finger prodding at your entrance. 

“No! No, no, your cock!” You cried, genuine tears flowing down your face. 

“That’s not what you said,” he whispered, as he pushed his fourth finger into you, stretching your walls. 

You screamed, thrashing in his grasp, “Spencer, fuck-fuck.” You were delirious, mind completely clouded with a suffocating lust. It was like you and Spencer were the only two humans on planet earth, the only beings that mattered. 

“One more and I’ll give you my cock” Spencer groaned out in your ear, his own primal lust beginning to take over. 

Broken cries of his name were the only words you managed to say as your third orgasm consumed you, the pressure building in your stomach finally being released. 

“There you go” Spencer praised, pulling his hand from your cunt, as your juices ran down your thighs. 

“Spence-I can’t” you whimpered out, your thighs still shaking from your orgasms. 

Shuffling could be heard from behind you, followed by clothes rustling and the distinct sound of a zipper. “I didn’t ask if you could, you’re going to, baby.” 

He released his hold on your arms, and your body fell forward once more, arms just barely catching yourself from plummeting headfirst into the tub. The head of his cock brushed against your sensitive cunt, and Spencer’s hands grabbed onto your hips, sharply tugging you back onto him. 

You let out a loud scream, the pain and pleasure blending together to form a sweet bliss. “Fuck” you moaned, his hands helping to guide your hips back to his. 

“Fuck, that's it, Y/N” Spencer moaned, adjusting his grip on your hips, the sheen layer of sweat on your bodies causing them to slip. 

Spencer’s hips slammed into your bruised ass, the sound of his skin colliding with yours echoing throughout the bathroom. Your knees were definitely going to be a pretty shade of pink tomorrow. 

Then, strangely, all of the sensations were gone, Spencer had scooted away from you, leaving you empty and used. “Spence what the fu-ah!” 

As you were about to question him, his hands dug into your hips again, yanking you away from the tub. Your arms slipped from the tub, falling to the floor. Before you could get out another word, Spencer’s hand was on the back of your head, gripping your hair. He pushed your head down, causing your arms to collapse, leaving your ass in the air, and the side of your face squished against the cool tile. 

A sob tore through your chest as you felt him fill you once more, and your nails scratched against the tile, searching for something to hold onto. Spencer growled into your ear, lust possessing his body as he pounded into you viciously. You had no clue how you were going to be able to walk tomorrow without arousing suspicion. 

                                                            … 

When you thought of the jet, you thought of peace, it was the calm after the storm. After seeing the horrors of your job, it was pure tranquility to gaze out the window at the blue sky and feel the slight bumps as you ascended through the clouds. 

“You okay, Y/L?” Derek asked from beside you. 

“Hmm?” You said, his deep voice pulling you from your pensive state.

His brows furrowed at you, his head tilting slightly. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m good. I was just looking at the clouds.” 

Derek nodded, starting to pull the headphones hanging around his neck back up to his ears. 

“Did you guys hear that couple last night?” Emily chimed in.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and it took all of your willpower to not shoot a glare at Spencer, but you knew that would only arouse suspicion. 

“Yeah, they were… loud.” JJ said, and you could feel her blue orbs bearing into you. Shit

“Someone was getting some.” Derek chuckled. 

Emily and JJ laughed along, and you took this as your opportunity to gaze up at Spencer, seeing his nose stuffed in a book, eyes speedily scanning the pages. The title definitely wasn’t written in English. 

Spencer’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, one of his eyebrows quirked in a questioning manner. You quickly looked at your lap, like a schoolgirl who had been caught staring at her crush.

“Speaking of, Penelope told me you’ve found some sort of sex genius, Y/N” Emily teased, leaning forward slightly. 

“Ooooh, now I’m listening,” Derek said, turning his attention to you. 

Your eyes darted to JJ, a nervous smile on your face, “he’s not a sex genius, he’s just a guy I met.”

“Oh, so there definitely is someone,” Derek concluded with a laugh. 

You groaned, “I’m going to kill Penelope.”

They chuckled at your statement before Emily spoke up “he must be good if he’s hindering your ability to walk into work.”  

A blush crept onto your face as the three of them erupted into a fit of laughter, you hid your face in your hands, sighing in annoyance. If only they knew said “sex genius” was sitting five feet away from them. 

“Leave Y/N alone.” A gruff voice spoke, a small smile on Hotch’s face as he walked by.

“Thank you!” You screeched, your hand gesturing to him. 

“Did Hotch just smile?” JJ asked, a giggle in her voice.

                                                             … 

You dragged your sore body into your apartment, lazily tossing your keys onto the kitchen counter. The case wasn’t horribly rough, as mild as murder can get. But, Spencer was definitely rough, not that you disliked it. 

You stripped off your blouse, throwing it in the laundry bin, working on your pants next, which you had worn due to your bruised knees. Right as you were about to unclip your bra, a knock sounded from the front door. 

A groan could be heard throughout the room as you trudged to the door, eye peeking into the peephole. Another groan escaped your mouth at the sight of Spencer, you begrudgingly unlocked the door, pulling it open.

“Spencer, what the hell? I’m still sore, and tired.” You complained, turning on your heel to walk back inside. 

Spencer followed, his eyes trailing you like a predator to prey, he leaned leisurely against the counter, his arms crossed. “I never really punished you for letting that officer flirt with you.” He voiced aloud. 

You rolled your eyes, turning to face him, your hands planted sassily on your hips, “seriously you wouldn’t call dicking me down with my face against the floor a punishment?” 

Spencer laughed, a smirk dawning his face, “hardly” his head tilted slightly watching as you shifted your weight in discomfort. 

You weren’t uncomfortable with him, per se, but rather, how vulnerable you felt. You stood, clad in a lacey bra and panties, and he stood, fully clothed, just watching you.  

“C’ mere,” he said, gesturing with his hand. You complied, walking towards him with an awkward shyness. His hand brushed some stray hair from your face, tucking it securely behind your ear. “You’re such a pretty girl, you know that?” 

A shiver washed through your body at his touch, his fingertips trailing lightly down the side of your face, and to your shoulder, playing with the strap of your bra. “Y/N” he started, his hand grazing between the valley of your breasts. “You know that right?” He questioned, his tone more assertive than before. 

You bit down on your lip lightly, nodding your head. His hand trailed back up your chest, curling under the strap of your bra, and in one sharp tug, he had pulled you to his chest, growling lowly in your ear. “Then you understand why I’m not fond of you allowing men to flirt with you, thinking they have a chance with you?” 

Each sharp breath you took pushed your chest even further into his, eyes bearing up at him. He released your bra strap, resting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you away from him. “Then, make it up to me.”

You grabbed onto his arm, steadying yourself as you dropped to your knees. You reached out, beginning to unbuckle his belt, before his hand grabbed yours, halting your movement. “Ah, ah, bra off first.” He teased, his own hands finishing unbuckling his belt. His lust-filled eyes watched as you reached behind your back, unclasping your bra, and sliding it off your shoulders. 

He hummed in approval, and his hand reached into his slacks, pushing them down slightly as he pulled out his hard cock. His head fell back with a groan as you quickly wrapped your lips around the head, your pointer finger running up the vein on the underside. 

He let you tease, surprisingly, and his hand laced in your hair, pulling some of it out of your face. “Fuck” he muttered breathlessly. 

You moaned lightly around him, taking more of him into your mouth, hand wrapping around what you couldn’t fit. Spencer groaned, his brows knitting together, as his hand applied pressure to the back of your head, forcing you down on him. 

You let your hand fall from his length, placing it at the back of his thigh to brace yourself. You breathed steadily through your nose, suppressing your gag reflex as you took him deeper. His hand stopped, grabbing a fist full of your hair, and pulling your head back. 

“That’s it, baby, show me how sorry you are.” His words seemed to ignite something in you, the grip on his thigh tightened, and you bobbed your head along his length. Spencer moaned at the feeling of your lips around him, yanking back on your hair, causing you to gag slightly. “Good girl” he praised, and a muffled whimper escaped your mouth. 

You pulled back, slower this time, letting your tongue run along his cock. “Hmm… you want me to cum in your mouth or your cunt?” Spencer asked, pulling your head off his cock, saliva dribbling down from the corners of your mouth.

“Cum in my pussy, please?” You begged, both of your hands pressed against his thighs, begging at his feet like a puppy. 

Spencer smiled down at you, one of his hands stroking your face affectionately. “Okay, sweetheart.” His hands grabbed yours, helping you to your feet. Once you were upright, one of his strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him for a soft kiss. You hummed lightly, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “Bedroom, I want you to ride me.”

You grinned at him, giddily grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hall. 

He stepped in first, pushing off his blazer, his hands beginning to unbutton his dress shirt, “you going to help me?”

“Of course, daddy” you replied, stepping forward to work on his pants while he took off his shirt. 

A dreamy sigh left your throat as you watched Spencer clamber onto the bed, turning to prop himself up against the pillows. Quickly, you shed your panties, not bothering to look at the obvious wet patch. “Ride daddy,” Spencer said, his hands folded behind his head. 

You crawled onto the bed, stopping next to Spencer, about to throw a leg over him, when his hand grabbed your hip, stopping you. Your brows knitted in confusion, “Spene-” 

“Wrong way, sweet girl.” Spencer smirked at you.

Your jaw dropped, “Spencer, please, I want to see you” you groaned out.

He chuckled at your whining, his hand pointing forward as he spoke, “you will, baby. And I get to see your pretty little ass.” Your gaze followed his hand, jaw dropping even further when you saw what he was pointing to. Your vanity mirror. 

“Okay” you replied meekly, turning your body towards the mirror and crawling over his lap. His hands met your hips, helping you onto him. 

One of Spencer’s hands left your hip, using it to guide his cock up and down your cunt. “Fuck” you moaned, your hands digging into the soft flesh of Spencer’s bare thighs. “Please, daddy, ple-fuck!” You cried as his cock slipped into you. You ground your hips down onto him, moaning as your walls dragged along his length. 

“Such a good girl” Spencer growled, one hand on your hip, and the other coming down to smack your ass. You shrieked, your hips working faster, your gaze fell onto the mirror, watching as your tits bounced and Spencer’s cock disappeared inside you. You moaned at the sinful sight, you didn’t think watching yourself fuck could be so erotic, but guess you were wrong. 

“You love this don’t you, baby? Such a slut for me, love watching you ride me.” Spencer muttered, the exhaustive lust beginning to overpower your tired bodies. 

You could feel the tension coiling in your stomach as you weakly nodded at Spencer’s words. “Can I cum? I wanna cum for you.” You groaned out, one of your hands leaving his thigh to rub small circles against your clit. 

His hand grabbed your hair, yanking your head back as he growled out “you’re mine. Say it, tell me who you belong to!” 

You cried out, your hips beginning to falter as Spencer rolled his hips up into you. Your eyes crossed, a weak moan falling from your lips. “You, you-I’m yours” 

Spencer grunted harshly, giving another sharp tug to your scalp, “watch yourself, see how pretty you look when you cum around my cock.” 

A squeal left your body as your orgasm hit you like a train. His hand released your hair, causing you to fall forward, arms planted firmly against the comforter as your body tensed. You watched in the mirror, as moans spilled from you, and Spencer grunted behind you, his own orgasm washing over him. Your mouth was open in a silent scream, and your thighs shook around Spencer’s. His hands shot to your hips, digging into your skin, his nails leaving crescents and red streaks as he readjusted his grip, pulling you down onto him one last time.

                                                           …

You basked in the feeling of Spencer’s warm body against yours, head laying against his chest, listening to his heart beat. 

Spencer’s hand ran soothingly through your hair, “I love you” his raw husky voice broke the silence.

You giggled like a schoolgirl, tilting your head to look up at him, “I love you more.” 

“Actually, statistically men tend to say ‘I love you first,’ which I did not. Women do tend to say ‘I love you’ around ten times more than men. Men and women express their feelings of love and affection in different ways. Men are usually-” 

His rant was silenced by your lips melting into his, upturned in a smile. You pulled back, a smile still on your face, “we have all day to ourselves tomorrow, go to sleep.” 

Spencer chuckled, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer into him. His lips placed a kiss to the top of your head, the two of you drifting off to sleep in each other's embrace. 

The unfortunate ringing of your cell phones brought you out of your slumber. You rolled over groggily, grabbing your phone. Pulling it away from your face, you let your eyes adjust to the light. You were met with the sight of two neglected notifications. 

Hotch: We have a case, meet at 9.

At least it was an hour later than usual.

One missed call: Aaron Hotchner. 

Fuck. Your eyes darted to the time at the top of your phone, your stomach doing backflips as your read, 9:12.

You scrambled from the bed, whacking Spencer awake in the process. “Jesus, Y/N” he groaned, sleepily running a hand over his face. 

“Get up” you said, grabbing his clothes from the floor and chunking them at him, “we have a case, we’re late.” 

He was out of bed so quick on any other day you would've thought he had watched a dead body be resurrected. “I can’t wear these clothes, I wore them yesterday!”

“There’s no time to stop, we’re already ten minutes late!” You groaned, throwing on a t-shirt, hoping you could dress up the look with a blazer.

“Dammit” he cursed, following your lead. 

Spencer walked through the glass doors, you hobbling behind him, still sore from yesterday. At the sight of the two of you, all jaws dropped to the floor. 

“No. Way.” Emily enunciated, her head shaking in disbelief. 

Derek laughed loudly, “you’ve been holding out on us, pretty boy.” He said between breaths.

“W-what? No-I don’t-we didn’t” The two of you began to defend yourselves, talking over each other, a stupid move in a room full of profilers. 

“Y/L your shirts on inside-out, and I’m pretty sure that’s the blazer Spencer wore yesterday.” Derek pointed out, now catching his breath. 

You looked down and sure enough, he was right, your shirt was on inside-out, and you had unknowingly grabbed Spencer’s blazer from the floor. No wonder it was so big. 

“So Spencer’s not just a genius, but a sex genius!” Garcia squealed, an enthusiastic smile curling her purple painted lips. 

Spencer flushed at the comment, his hands digging into his pockets. “Dear God” you mumbled, burying your face in your hands. 

You all shuffled into the briefing room, taking your seats. “And cue the never ending teasing.” You groaned. 

“Did they finally figure it out? You two need to stop sneaking around like teenagers.” JJ chimed in, walking into the room, handing files out to everyone. 

“What, you knew?” Emily gasped, looking at JJ bewildered. 

“You guys told JJ?” Derek accused. 

“Oh, no one told JJ, JJ found out herself when the two decided to get frisky at the club!” JJ laughed, joining in on the torment. 

“Ah, ah, ah! Stop it, stop!” You cried, not being able to stop the smile that broke out onto your red face. 

“Leave the teenagers alone, we have a case.” Hotch said, making his appearance in the room. 

“Seriously, you too?” 

“At least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” Spencer pointed out meekly, peeking up at you, his red face matching yours. 

You giggled at the revelation, things would definitely be different now, and maybe for the better. 

#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencerreid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminalminds #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #aaron hotch hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #im going to church

[mr-walkingrainbow]

battle for abimel? i want a power showdown.

BATTLE FIGHT WITH POWER SHUT DOWN HERE WE GO!!

Basically OverWitch + I guess the rest of the charmed ones, face the new demon of the day, the Cancellor, which nullifies any power thrown at them.

They have to really think hard to figure this one out.

But like, mainly gay OverWitch.

“Ugh,” Macy groaned audibly for the fourth time in the past two minutes, “What’s taking her so long!”

“Ok could you tone down the whine today?” Mel replied exasperatingly, “It’s not like Abby lives next door. And she can’t orb like Harry. It takes time to get here.”

“Yeah and by the time she does the DotD will be long gone!” She stated in annoyance.

Maggie rolled her eyes, “I think the demon of the day can wait for a few minutes. I doubt their in a rush for a Appointment at the nail salon.”

The eldest huffed, “Yeah but Abbys just taking forever!”

“You rang?”

Everyone turned to the source of the voice, which oddly, seemed to be nix.

But more understandingly, smoke started to swirl, practically a mini tornado, until it took the form of Mels beloved.

“Abby!” The Latina cheered, running over and giving her girlfriend a hug.

“Hello lovely,” Abigael grinned, before smirking in Macy’s direction, “Now what’s this about me being slow? Shall I remind you how long it took you and Witchbanger to actually bang?”

Macy made a squawk of protest, while Harry looked on in mute surprise.

“Witchbangers new.” He commented, although Mel couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or curious.

Abby gestured towards him with a flourish, then nodded towards Macy, “Well, this pile of nerves is Whitebanger, only fitting we have the other half.”

Harry seemed to nod in numb acceptance, before turning back to the gadget in his hands.

“Now that we’re all here, I introduce, the Cancellor !” He waved his arms dramatically for the reveal, the gadget projecting a hologram of a dark woman in a white suit.

Maggie stared blankly, “the counselor?”

Harry looked a bit miffed, “No, the Cancellor.”

Macy tilted her head, “The chancellor?”

“NO, lovely, the CANCELLOR.”

Mel narrowed her eyes, “Cancer?”

Harry gasped for breath, “-wha- how?? It’s the CAN-CELL-OR.”

Abigael smirked, snickering lightly, “Oh Harold, why didn’t you just say so?”

Everyone offered nods of agreement while Harry sputtered for words.

Macy graciously took this time to step forward.

“As my dear was beginning to, ahem, say?” She broke off to give the sputtering whitelighter a concerned look, “This is apparently, in fact, the Cancellor. They have the power to nullify or ‘Cancel’ any powers used against it.”

“Oh but who needs powers when your in the middle of fighting a bloodthirsty demon!” Abby snarked typically.

Mel would normally scold her for such a comment, but found herself cracking a smile at the humor of it.

Macy looked annoyed, but shrugged it off, “As I was saying, something good to note, the Cancellor takes the form of whatever it nullified last, so it might not look like this. That’s just the last recorded form.”

She gestured to the regal woman in white. To which Abby purred delightfully.

“At least it’s last participant knew how to dress well.”

Mel shot her a glare, giving her a slap to the arm.

“What?!” The Britt squeaked. She just rolled her eyes in response.

“Aww,” Abby cooed, wrapping her arms around Mels smaller frame, “Is someone jealous of a power taking, identity stealing demon of the day?”

The Latina grumbled a bit, embarrassed of the blush that had indeed made its way across her face.

“No.”

“Oh I think you are.” The later whispered, “But don’t worry my love, no matter how amazingly dressed someone is, they cant even manage to come close to your overall beauty.”

Mel blushed again, this time for an entirely different reason. And a bit bashfully, she turned and gave Abby a chaste kiss.

“I hate you.” She stated grumpily.

“Love you too grumpy.”

“Ladies,” everyone turned to harry, who had finally recuperated, holding an Orb, “Will you generously accompany me to fight a fashionable identity stealer?”

“Oh Harold,” Abby sashayed forward dramatically, “I thought you’d never ask!”

Macy growled jealously while Mel shared a secret laugh with Maggie. The two of them had slowly found Abbys wit more humorous then insulting.

Harry threw the orb, the Group proceeding to jump through it into a wide circular stone covered room.

“Where are we?” Maggie questioned, peering around, their seemingly was only one entrance, a small archway carved into the surrounding rock. Leading into another room.

“We’re in the Cancellors Lair, that ark leads to the cancellor.” Harry answered informatively.

Mel was confused, however, “If so, how do people get in?”

“I think I have the answer to that.”

Everyone turned to Macy, who was staring at the ceiling. They followed pursuit, only to find their room was not really a room, but the bottom of a very deep pit.

“What a treacherous trap.” Abby seethed respectively, if possible, “Some loner demon falls down the pit. And if they survive. The Cancellor can steal their powers and harvest their body.”

“No… no that can’t be?” The youngest stated sadly, ever the empath, “Some have to escape. What about the innocent humans who fall?”

“I guess some could escape,” Abigael reasoned blatantly. If they realized where they were before the Cancellor found them. They would have to have some type of powers that could propel them upwards, like smoke phasing. Because no lucky Jim could climb these walls. Their smooth as stone.”

She wasn’t wrong, Mel found herself absentmindedly feeling the slick walls with her hand.

Someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned to see her girlfriend smiling at her bashully, and hand held out.

“Head in the Clouds my love?”

“Yeah,” the Latina grinned, taking the britts hand, “Thanks for always finding me.”

“Oh why of course!” The hybrid proclaimed, “What else is a loving girlfriend supposed to do?”

“Oh you know, fight demons, slay monsters, make out from time to time.” She monologued coyly.

-“while I’d love to hear this agonizing conversation,” Macy interrupted, “We have a demon destroy.”

Both of them rolled their eyes, but gladly shared secret smiles.

The ragtag group of magical beings entered the room. Nearly immersed in pitch darkness.

Mel felt Abby take her hand, and she tried to send soothing vibes, squeezing it to show she understood.

Abigael wasn’t a fan of the dark, it wasn’t cause she was afraid of it specifically, moreover, it reminded her of being locked in the crate. And mentioned it made her feel quite claustrophobic.

A lot of her fears spiraled from the singular subject of her childhood. It didn’t make them any less valid, however.

“Macy.” Mel whispered in the dark, “A light please?”

“Since when are you afraid of- oh.”

Her sister caught on, a tad second too late. But thankfully, mentioned nothing when the room was engulfed in flames. Just sending Mel a understanding nod.

Abby may get on Macy’s nerves, but she truly did care about her overall well-being.

“Oh thank you Lovely, now we can see where the Cancellors coming from.” Harry commented, subtly driving attention away from Abigael.

The Latina still could see the flush on her girlfriends face. And squeezed her hand again. Trying to say it was ok through touch.

Annoyingly, even with Macy’s flame, the room was not very bright. And from what Mel could see, it was another circular room, but with a domed ceiling, and vine-snaked walls.

Everyone sorta teetered around, peering closely at the cylinder wall, some parts holding ritualistic type carvings underneath the vines.

“How interesting.” Abby mused lightly, tracing a line finger in the indentions.

Mel winced slightly, as the light behind her got abruptly brighter.

“Hey Mace, good job with the light! Didn’t know you were practicing.”

“Mel…” Macy’s voice sounded nervous and halted, “Mel that isn’t me.”

“What do you mean who else would it-“

She cut off, as everyone turned to the center of the room.

Somehow, submerged in the darkness, a middle platform was completely unseen.

But now, from a spotlight coming from nowhere, it was illuminated in a ghostly, nearly theatrical glow.

And on top of that platform, posing dramatically, was the Cancellor.

Maggie scrunched her nose, “Wait… is that-“

-“LIL NAS X?!?” Mel exclaimed abnormally loud.

Her brain was completely shot. How could this be possible. This shouldn’t be. It couldn’t be.

But yet, it was, no one else rocked Red dreads, tiny black & white boxers, and thigh high leather boots then the number 1 black gay pop artist.

Macy looked thoroughly confused, “Who..? And are you sure that’s him?”

“I thought he looked familiar.” Maggie mumbled to herself.

Harry’s eyes were bugging out of his head, caught between staring and trying to give the Cancellor some privacy. The bulge in his CK boxers leaving nothing to imagination.

“No that’s definitely him,” Abby purred, practically hypnotized, “No one wears those raunchy underwear but him.”

Mel blushed jealously, “He’s gay Abby. As in into penis.”

Abigael jerked her head, trance broken as she gazed at her pouting girlfriend.

“Aww,” she cooed once again, leaning in close, “Is someone jealous of a LilNausex clone?”

The lesbian flushed, hating how adorable Abbys mispronunciation of his name sounded in her accent.

“It’s Lil Nas X.” She stated huffily.

Abby frowned, just a tad, “Oh come on Lovely.”

“Don’t lovely me!” Mel denied stubbornly.

It was a bit childish, yes, but right now the Demon straddling a chair from literally nowhere was undeniably hot for the Men lovers in the room. And she was green with envy.

“Oh you should know by now,” Abby whispered, her tone seductive and lovely, “Your the only one I want to see in those flamboyant boxers.”

Mel hated how much she was turned on right now.

“Also,” her girlfriends voice was now soft, “No matter how much I may ogle or tease, you really are my one and only love.”

Ok, now she could love her again.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.”

“Not to break up this repetitive conversation,” Macy once again interrupted, “But how is ‘Lil Nas X’ in the room?”

“Yeah,” Harry piped up finally, “He’s human. And it’s not like he’s killed and stolen the crown, and powers of some random leader.”

“OH MY GOD.” Mel screeched, going straight back to mortified.

“I THOUGHT THAT WAS JUST IN THE VIDEO!?”

Everyone turned to her for an explanation, while she blushed from the heavy gaze, and sexual nature of the rationale.

“I-In his recent music video,” she whispered meekly, “he kills satan and steals his power.”

Her blushed increased dramatically at the implication.

“Not that I’ve watched it or something.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Abby whispered with a devilish attitude, “I’ve watched it plenty enough for the both of us.”

“Basically he stripper poles his way down to hell, does a Lap dance for Satan himself, and then proceeds to kill him in the middle of the throws of it. Ergo stealing his crown. And then his powers. We avid fans all assumed it was apart of gay pride and acceptance and sticking it to the homophobes. Turns out it’s that, and becoming all powerful.”

True to their personality. Mel loves what Abby says, Maggie nods appreciatively and nonchalantly, while Macy and Harry look seconds away from dying of pure awkwardness.

“Um, why isn’t he saying anything?” Maggie points out. The sexy demon staring at them all unblinkingly, thoroughly creeping them out.

“Maybe the voices doesn’t carry when he takes the form?” Macy suggests, “So he tries to hide it by not talking? False sense of security?”

Lil N’as Cloné then opened his mouth, revealing a large jagged set of teeth, jaw unhinging slightly.

“Or!” Maggie says with a state of panic, “He was just waiting to eat us alive!”

The demon crouches low, nearly spider like. Swaying from side to side.

“Ladies! Backs to the wall!” Harry announces, “And make sure to show some type of power, we don’t know how long the transformation takes, so we need to keep track on who still possesses them.”

Mel needs no second affirmation, grabbing Abbys wrist and yanking her back.

“Mel?” She looks outraged, “We need to fight it!”

“Yeah we’ll I can’t fight it if your powers are stolen and need someone to protect you!”

Abigael huffs, “I can take care of myself Melanie. See?”

She holds her hand up as if to summon a flame.

Head jerking when none appears.

Her expression changes to one filled with fear and confusion, “Bloody hell??”

Abby continued to unsuccessfully summon a flame, hand whirring to a blur.

“Mel!” She exclaimed in a frenzy, “Mel, it’s not working, why isn’t it working? To hell with this!”

“Hey! Hey,” the Latina soothed, rushing to place a hand on her arm in a calming motion, “Carino it’s ok. Don’t panic. The lil n’as dude just took your powers assumingly.”

“Are you sure?!?”

It seemed kinda like a controversial question to ask; considering she couldn’t activate her fire powers, but Mel understood it was from fear rather then logic.

“Well, try to smoke phase.”

Abby nodded tentatively. Raising her hands once again.

The very tips of her fingers produced ashy whisps, but aside from that, their was nothing.

“Your smoking.” Maggie unhelpfully stated, as she edged towards them.

“Why thank you Captain obvious!” Abby snarked bitterly.

The brunette looked concerned, glancing at the Latina instead, “Mel, what’s wrong?”

Abby was outraged, “Mel?! I am RIGHT HERE y’a know, if your just gonna stand their like a blathering idiot you might as well-“

-“She’s been cancelled,” Mel interrupted blatantly, witch just a tad of irritation at her raving girlfriend, “Her powers aren’t working and she’s lashing out.”

Maggie shrugged, “Naturally.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN NATURALLY?! I have a RIGHT to be upset I-“

-“So you sure their fully gone?” Her sister continued, “I never saw the Cancellor do anything? And he still looks like Lil N’as!”

Mel turned back to the center, brows furrowing at the now empty stage.

“Where’d he go?”

The dead silence, and lack of demon, filled the room with an eerie unsettling vibe.

“Mel, I don’t like this.” The empath warned.

She didn’t either.

“MACY!” The Latina called out, “WHERED HE GO?”

Macy looked just as panicked, probably even more, “I DONT KNOW! HE WAS JUST HERE?!”

“Oh for gods sake! We should rejoice for all I care! I’m the one with my powers gone and if you would STOP bloody ignoring me id-“

Mel whirled around, placing one finger in front of Abbys lips, the other hand firmly around her waist.

“Abby. I love you. I know your freaking out right now. But please, can you refrain from ranting till we leave?”

Abbys eyes were both murderous and loving, and softly, Mel kissed her until it changed to a lightly irritated.

“Better?” She puffed quietly.

The Britt nodded silently, blushing lightly at the affection showed.

Mel scrunched her eyebrows, briefly seeing the abrupt look of horror sweep it’s way across her girlfriends face.

“What’s wr-“

-“MEL LOOK OUT!”

Abby had shoved her aside roughly, the witch groaning as she hit the ground, but enough adrenaline rushing through to allow her to roll to her elbows.

She glanced up, Just in time to see a dark shadow drag Abigail to the the darkest parts of the room.

“ABBY!” She screamed, arm outreached and terror in her eyes.

“MACY!” Mel barked, “MORE LIGHT.”

Her sister didn’t have to be told twice, “ON IT!”

Immediately, the softly glow from Macy’s flame turned into a raging fire, illuminating all that it could without burning something.

Dead silence followed.

Maggie gasped, “Oh no.”

Standing before them, with the shadows gone and dust settled, was two identical Abigael Jameson-Caines. Each with matching clothes and injuries.

“By all things science.” Macy blanched.

“The Cancellor has taken Abbys form!” Harry informed quickly, “Ready yourself for an attack from either one.”

Mel rose to her feet on shaky limbs, reading an icicle from the air particles around her.

“Alright,” her voice was steady, although she wasn’t calm in the slightest, “One of you is the hot pain in my ass who I love dearly. And the other is a cannibalistic identity stealer. So. Who’s who.”

Immediately both of them rushed to ensure her trust, voices perfectly identical.

“I’m the real Abby!” The one on the right said.

“No!” Lefty said, “Don’t listen to them I’m the real Abby!”

[Authors note - Right side Abby will be in bold.

Left side Abby is in Italics.]

“Their perfectly identical,” Macy stressed, “How are we gonna tell them apart?!”

“Their must be a logical way to solve this.” Harry muttered under his breath.

“Come on guys, really?” Maggie shot them a glare, Mel seemed to catch on, “It’s easy really.”

“We quiz them.”

After a quick group huddle, and their bearings regain, they were ready to give a life or death quiz.

“Alright Abby clones,” Maggie narrated, “We’ve each prepared a question, something only the real Abby should know. Based on your answers, we will decide if your truthful or not.”

“Great just don’t dose me with truth serum while your at it.” Both Abbys snarked in complete unison, before shooting matching scowls at the other.

Maggie looked drastically discouraged but the display, voice wavering.

“U-uh, um, y-yes. Questions. H-Harry your up.”

The man walked up a few feet, nervously wiping his palms against his button up.

“Alright, ladies,” he gave his habitual gentlemen nod to the two of them, “When one of you invited me over for dinner, what was the main course?”

“Duck!” Righty said immediately. Grinning proudly.

“Hey! That one was too easy!” Lefty argued, “Duck is the best meat for a date! Everyone knows that! Not to mention I gave Harold a massage beforehand.”

“Of course it’s the best! What else would you eat, bloody chicken like an uncultured heathen?!”

Righty paused to glance at Harry, “Uh, I get the point for that one right?”

Harry looked overwhelmed, panic evident on his face.

“Uh, um. Undecided!” He then quickly scampered to the back of the pack, face flushed while doing so.

“Completely identical.” The Whitelighter whispered to no one.

Macy shrugged, “Guess I’m up.”

She approached the twins glancing at either with an impassive face.

“Let’s see, what’s Abbys favorite nickname for me?”

“Whitebanger.” The two answer in synchronized perfection. Shooting yet another glare at each other.

Macy looked tired, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Of course that one was too easy. Any Abby could apparently answer that in her sleep. Let me think of a harder question.”

It wasn’t long before her poker face soon returned. Leveling them up once again.

“When You fake poisoned yourself, what was that one question that was actually subserviently a dig on me?”

“To spoon!” Left jolted, “I asked you to spoon!”

“Actually! I asked her if she was the big spoon or little spoon.”

“Well excuse me for messing up one tiny detail! At least I got the spoon part before you!” Left rolled her eyesz

“Well mine was actually accurate, so yours doesn’t count!”

“Yeah it does!”

“Does not!” Right argued.

“ENOUGH!”

Macy had both hands out, face strained, “You two need to stop arguing so I can think!”

The clones shut up, as she stormed back towards the group, shaking her head.

“They share a freaking mind.” The eldest stated bitterly.

A few minutes passed as they waited for Maggie to step up. Who looked severely intimidated by the task at hand.

Mel coughed, “Maggie it’s-“

“I KNOW!” The Latina shrieked, “GIVE ME A SECOND!”

“Okayyy!”

The youngest took a couple very hesitant feet forward.

“Hello!” She waved awkwardly, “I’m Maggie -wait ugh, Abby already knows that of course! Gosh stop talking to yourself and think of a damn question!”

She bit her lip nervously, looking at them with a fearful expression.

“Ok, um. Let’s see. What’s some things Abby likes to do?”

“Oh that’s easy, Alcohol, Mel, making Macymorts life miserable!” Righty laughed to herself.

Mel ignored the fierce blush that rose to her face at the implication.

“But that’s easy,” Lefty sneered meanly, “I like to do many things, all which someone could easily guess.”

“Pray tell, tell me how you could ‘guess’ I like those things?”

“Well I-“

-“Ok!” Maggie squeaked, “Another question then!”

She then proceeded to flounder for a few moments. Hands waving rapidly in anxiety.

“Um, ok then. Who’d you save my life from?”

“My brother.”

“My half-brother, Parker.”

The answers seemed to be the same, yet lefty seemed to be happy with how specific she was.

Maggie, however, had paused. Eyes narrowed at the two, caught in a thought.

“Maggie?” Mel whispered, “What did you see?”

The Brunette jolted, plastering a fake smile on her face, “Oh nothing! Just a trick of the light!”

Mel grabbed her arm once she returned closer to the group, “Pfft, trick of the light my ass, you saw something? What was it?”

“I honestly don’t know,” her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, “It was something about how they said it. They said the some thing, yet one sounded right, and the other wrong?”

“But how is that possible?” Macy interject lowly, ever the logical person.

“I don’t know!” Maggie whined, arms flailing, “It just was!”

“We’ll don’t stress,” Mel soothed, “We definitely have something by now from other questions.”

“We definitely, do not, have something from any of these questions.” Harry muttered a few minutes later in a group huddle.

“Maggie,” he glanced at the youngest, “Were you able to get anything, you know, empath wise?”

Her gaze snapped to his, a bit of fire in her pupils, “Don’t you think I would have said something if I did?! It’s hard enough that their identical, but their emotions are too! The Cancellor apparently has the ability to copy someone completely! They know everything about the other, because they know it themselves!”

Mel gasped, realization hitting her in a flash, “Oh my god Mags, that’s it!”

Maggie looked confused, as did the rest of them, “What’s it? What did I say?”

“I can’t be something Abby already knows,” she explained carefully, in a deep whisper, “If it’s something she already knows, the Cancellor can immediately pick up on it. He has a copy of all her memories! It’s gotta be something she doesn’t know, or, Moreover, something we know that can get a honest reaction she doesn’t know she makes.”

“But that’s practically impossible!”

“Don’t say that Macy, it’s not impossible if your the girlfriend of Abigael Jameson-Caine!”

Mel pulled from the group, walking up to the two with a confident swagger.

Both, of course, seemed a bit taken aback by her bold demeanor.

“Ok Siamese freak from hell,” she grinned, cracking her knuckles, “Your in my court now, It’s my turn to ask the questions.”

“One of you is the woman I love, and the fact she’s currently having to take a quiz for her life is sickening, so that stokes the fire of hate I have for whoever is causing this. And once I find out who is it, I promise you will regret ever messing with us, and mi Cariño!”

Mel let her monologue be a distraction, gradually advancing forward as she spoke. Until she was directly in front of them.

“Now, it’s time for your final question.”

She stared them in their chocolate orbs, lingering over the right one. Mel couldn’t understand it, but she felt as if the righty was the true Abby. Even with no proof. Their was just something in her eyes.

“Can you kindly hold you hands like this?”

The Latina then proceeded to hold one hand up, baring the wrist, the other slightly bellow, pressing on a very specific patch of skin.

The two were confused, both tilting their heads to the side slightly, in a way Abby would commonly do when she was thinking.

Mel let her hands drop to her sides, watching like a hawk as the complied. She could feel the groups eyes on her, and was desperately praying that this worked.

A few seconds passed. Nothing happened. Perfectly identical.

Then, it happened. The Abby on the right legs swiftly crumpled.

Mel rushed in, and in one move, caught Abby with one arm. The other, which had been hidden from sight, stabbing the duplicate with a quickly formed air icicle.

The demon gave a feral screech from the weapon embedded in its chest, clawing at it weakly.

The group watched in awe as it switched between numerous forms, one which of was lil n’as, the others it’s countless victims.

“How?” It gasped hoarsely, “I’m completely identical.”

“That’s where your wrong!” Mel smiled proudly, “You see, in a way, you were identical. You knew everything Abby did because you could copy her mind! But what about something she didn’t even know of? Like the fact that from years of being put in shock cuffs consequently damaged the nerve in her right wrist? That when pressed, would cause her to pass out?”

“But how?” It wailed, “She would have known!”

“Except she didn’t!” The Latina cradled the unconscious body gently, kissing Abbys crown lightly, “I only found out by accident. And she didn’t remember a thing about it when waking up. I didn’t want to worry her, so I just stayed quiet. I soon understood why it happened due to her trial. But as a demon who can only copy what the person knows, you wouldn’t have.”

The creature let out a few more pitiful whines before crumpling to ash and dust.

“MEL!” Maggie shrieked in happiness, giving her a gigantic hug, “That was AMAZING! How did you figure it out?!”

“Just by what you said,” she answered honestly,” Their emotions were the same, and physically they were too. But the body is an amazing thing, and it does many things were not even aware of!”

“That is factually correct!” Macy complimented with a smile.

“I suppose this calls for a celebration when we get home, err, when do you think she’ll wake up?” Harry gestured to the peacefully resting girl.

The lesbian grinned softly, “Oh, any moment now. It only knocks her out for a minute or two.”

“Oh!” Maggie perked up, “I just remembered what I noticed about her response!”

Everyone stared with great interest.

The youngest smiled, “Abby called Parker ‘Brother’. Even though he’s only half related, she always adressed him as her brother. I guess the clone thought we wanted more specific.”

“She truly is just that amazing.” Mel noted warmly, lips parting when she felt Abby starting to stir.

The group took this as their key to leave, telling Mel to meet them back in the other room.

She nodded, expression soft when Abigaels eyes fluttered open.

“W-what happened? D-id we do it? Is it gone?”

“Gone Cariño,” Mel cooed, smoothing the stray hairs off her face and stroking her forehead just the way she liked, “All thanks to you my love.”

“Me?” Abigael questioned, “What did I do? All I remember is, ugh, I have a killer headache, I just remember doing some weird hand signs and then darkness?”

“Oh my love, you were yourself! Undeniably, and amazingly yourself. And no Lil N’as, fancy identity stealer could ever imitate you perfectly. For theirs only one of you. And for that, I am greatful.”

“Why?” Abby arched an eyebrow, smiling erotically, “Because I’m too hot to handle?”

Mel scoffed, chuckling despite herself, nearly dropping her girlfriend in the process.

“More like because i can barely tolerate one of your personality!”

The Britt pouted slightly, “Your mean.”

“Oh am I?” She leaned in and kissed her pouty lips, “No but actually? It’s because I’m reminded to never take you for granted. I only get one of you. And it be the worst mistake of my life to waste it.”

Abbys lips turned to a fond smile, “And their you go again, making me feel things and generally be a better happier person.”

“Oh the audacity of myself!” The witch smirked.

“Ugh, I hate you!”

She grinned, “Love you too.”

#Charmed #Charmed reboot #Charmed CW #Abigael Caine #Mel Vera #Abimel #OverWitch #Overwitch #Abigael Jameson Caine #abigael x mel #mel x abby #mel x abigael #macy x harry #macy charmed #macy vaughn #harry greenwood #Hacy #harry x macy #maggie vera #Jordan Chase #Maggie x Jordan #Joggie #Abigael Charmed #Mel Charmed #Maggie Charmed

[averykedavra]

91. “i’m not kissing you in the rain, we’ll catch our deaths!” with logince, if you’d like?

(A classic! I wrote a version of this here with loroyality, if you’d like to read that, too!)

Words: 3367

Roman knew that real-life romance wasn’t exactly like it was in the movies.

For one thing, kissing sleeping princesses was frowned upon, for obvious reasons. For another, dragons did not usually frequent college campuses. There was also a distinct lack of princes, although there was a tower for the astronomy classes, which could perhaps serve as a prison.

In general, it was highly disappointing.

Still, Roman tried to make the most of it. Some romantic tropes could still be employed--flowers, for instance, or surprise dates, or fountains.

The campus even had a lucky fountain! Toss a penny in at the beginning of the year, and you’d get straight As. Roman had done so, of course. It hadn’t worked. Maybe the luck came on a delayed schedule. Roman still believed.

Roman believed in a lot of things--lucky fountains, fairies, and a Disney-style romance. Just because they hadn’t worked didn’t mean they wouldn’t work! He just had to do them right.

The first two were difficult to tackle during a semester of classes, but the third was attainable.

Especially when his science partner was so cute.

Logan apparently liked science class, which made him a nerd, but Roman could forgive that. It had made their science labs far easier. And it was eclipsed by his cuteness, in a way that somehow made the nerdiness also cute. That was a powerful skill indeed, and one that Logan deployed without thought. Whenever he wrinkled his nose or rolled his eyes or slid into a tangent about physics, Roman found himself in a bubble of happiness.

In a movie, there would be actual bubbles, or maybe flowers. Or maybe just a glow. Things still glowed when Logan was nearby, but Roman was pretty sure that was all in his imagination. He sent a picture of Logan to Virgil, in order to check. You’re in deep, was all that Virgil texted back.

And yes! Yes, Roman was in deep, and he was not ashamed! He was in love. Well, like--he couldn’t quite be in love at first sight, or even fifth study session, because that wasn’t how real life worked. He liked Logan, though. A lot. He wanted to kiss him on the cheek and listen to him talk about space.

It was hard to tell if Logan liked him back. Real life, unfortunately, held the large possibility that Logan did not. But Roman used his incredible observation skills, and by the third time Logan flushed when they bumped shoulders, he was pretty sure.

Logan liked him. Roman liked Logan, too.

Simple--this was the ‘ride into the sunset’ part of things. Except that involved one of them telling the other, and Roman could just say he liked Logan, but that wasn’t what he was supposed to do! He was supposed to woo him! That was how love worked.

So Roman tried to woo his lab partner.

And it went, well, not as poorly as it could have. Logan didn’t do anything extreme, like throw up or declare Roman a fiend. He just--ignored it. He ignored every single flirtatious line Roman threw at him.

At first, Roman could reasonably believe he hadn’t noticed--Logan was a bit naive in social situations, which was incredibly endearing--but he slowly began to doubt that. After he sent Logan flowers and Logan didn’t touch them, Roman gave in. Logan must have noticed. He just didn’t seem to care.

Which didn’t match up with anything. Logan had been interested in him--Roman knew it, and all their friends agreed. So if he was interested, he should be enjoying this!

That was how it worked!

And yes, dragons weren’t real, and yes, lucky fountains didn’t work, but something had to be true. It was called true love for a reason. Roman was supposed to sweep Logan off his feet, kiss him, and like it. That was how the story went.

Yet Logan stubbornly refused to play along.

Roman worked through his entire list of pickup lines. He spent half their study sessions inching his way closer before touching Logan’s hand, and feeling Logan pull away. He bought cookies, was curtly handed back the cookies, and was forced to eat the cookies by himself in his dorm room.

And he’d stop if Logan said no. If Logan clearly said he wasn’t interested--because he could reasonably have changed his mind--or that he didn’t want Roman to do this. But he never said anything. He just acted like it never happened.

Maybe that was a no. Maybe Roman was just not taking the hint. He definitely didn’t want to make his friend uncomfortable, but he couldn’t believe this was it, that he was stuck loveless and embarrassed and barely following along with science class.

He gave himself one more day. One last study session of attempting to drop hints, and if Logan let them fall like lead balloons, he’d cut it out.

“Your shirt looks really cute on you!” Roman said.

Logan hummed and turned a page.

“Oh, that’s how it works?” Roman grinned. “I get it now! You’re so smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“Cute, smart, and humble. Triple threat!”

Logan shrugged a bit and returned to the worksheet.

“Aw, I don’t want this to be over,” Roman said as the sky darkened. “Do you want to meet up again soon?”

“We have class together next week,” Logan pointed out.

“No, like--on our own.” Roman held out a hand. “Like a date.”

Logan looked at his hand, back up, and closed his notes. “I should get going, I think it’s going to rain.”

Roman’s stomach sank as he watched Logan stand and gather his things. Eventually, he put his own books away. The library was quiet as he followed Logan to the door. He couldn’t find the courage to make conversation.

Logan pulled open the door and peered out. “It’s already drizzling.”

“I have an umbrella?” Roman suggested, pulling out his umbrella. “If you don’t have one, I can walk you to where you need to go?”

“Oh!” Logan smiled at him. “Thank you, Roman, I’d appreciate that.”

And see, this was what messed with Roman! Logan didn’t seem bothered by the flirting, as he still treated Roman normally, so was he mad or was he uncomfortable or was he oblivious or was he--

Roman opened the umbrella, held it over Logan’s head, and gestured to the door.

“A rainbow umbrella,” Logan said. “Of course.”

“I’m gay! I have to show it!” Roman winked at Logan. “Now, come on, Specs, where are you headed?”

“My dorm building,” Logan said, as they carefully stepped outside. Roman held the umbrella above both of them, his arm around Logan’s shoulders. Logan didn’t seem to mind. “Are you sure the umbrella will fit both of us?”

“It seems to work!” Roman shuffled forward, and Logan followed. “It’s like those three-legged races, we just have to step in unison.”

Logan nodded and watched Roman’s feet, his nose wrinkling adorably, like it always did when he focused. “Step now?”

“Step now!” Roman grinned. “Step, step, step in time, step in time--”

“No Mary Poppins.”

“But Julie Andrews!”

Logan huffed, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not going to sing it with you, I hope you know that.”

“Good enough for me!” Roman declared. “Step in time, step in time, never need a reason, never need a rhyme.”

The rain was already falling faster. They walked in awkward unison down the sidewalk, past the parking lot, and towards the dorm buildings. They sat like brick lumps on the other side of the quad. All the grass was already muddy, and nobody was around, except for a few freshmen running to the Humanities building with coats over their heads.

“I should have brought my umbrella,” Logan complained as the rain increased. “The water is dripping down my neck.”

“Oh, it is?” Roman shifted his arm. “Does that work better?”

“For me, yes.” Logan looked up at him. “I think the water is now dripping down your neck.”

“I don’t mind,” Roman lied, ignoring the sensation of cold water in his collar.

“Here, let me adjust it.” Logan stopped walking and reached for the umbrella handle. “If we both stand under the dome, we won’t get wet.”

Roman laughed. “Is there an equation for that?”

“I’m hardly going to etch it into the grass, am I?” Logan moved forward and pulled the umbrella off-center. “No, that’s worse. Stay still--”

Roman had no trouble with staying still, because he had just realized he was inches from Logan, one arm around his shoulders. He could lean forward and hug him, or tap his nose, or--kiss him. Yeah. That was what people did when they were close to people they liked.

The rain drummed on the umbrella as Logan adjusted it, fully focused. Kissing in the rain. That was definitely what people did. A romantic gesture.

Roman took a deep breath.

“Logan?” he asked.

Logan’s hands stilled on the umbrella handle. “Yes?”

“I--” Roman laughed a bit. “Your hair is damp.”

“Oh.” Logan batted at it, and only managed to flatten it further out of position. “That’s disappointing.”

“It looks cute,” Roman said.

And Logan flushed, just a bit.

That was enough of a go-ahead.

“You know what people do in the rain,” Roman said. He tried to sound a bit joking, but not too joking, and ended up squarely in awkward.

“I do?”

“Uh.” Roman steeled his nerves. “They kiss. It’s romantic.”

Logan blinked at him. “Oh. How is that relevant--”

Roman made a small, meaningless hand motion.

Logan’s mouth formed a small o.

For a second, it was quiet, the rain drumming on the umbrella.

“I mean,” Roman said, deciding to dig his hole deeper and bury himself, “most people do it in the rain. Like, all wet. There aren’t usually umbrellas involved.”

Logan looked affronted. “I’m not kissing you in the rain! We’ll catch our death!”

“We’ll just get a bit damp.”

“Absolutely not,” Logan said firmly. “I am not going out from under this umbrella, and I am not kissing you in the rain.”

“Okay, fine,” Roman said, cursing every word that left his mouth. “But what’s the verdict on kissing in general?”

Logan blinked again. Roman wondered if he’d attempt to ignore the situation again, or steal his umbrella and run. He hoped not. He liked this umbrella.

“I...” Logan let out a long breath. “I am not kissing you. Rain or otherwise.”

“Oh,” Roman said.

“I’m sorry,” Logan added quickly, and he did look sorry. “I hoped you would leave it alone, but it seems really important to you, and I’m sorry. I’m just not--interested.”

“In...me?” Roman swallowed. He was not going to cry. “You’re not interested in me.”

“No--” Logan started. “I mean, yes, but--” He stopped, looking frustrated. “I’m not interested in that. Kissing. Or rain. Or--romantic things like that.”

Roman’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected that turn of events. “You aren’t?”

Logan shook his head. “I’m aromantic. I’m not interested in a romantic relationship with anyone. Well, actually, some aromantic people do pursue romantic relationships. More accurately, I don’t experience romantic attraction.”

“You can do that?”

Logan raised an eyebrow and gave Roman a look that told him he was on extremely thin ice. “Yes.”

“I mean, that’s really cool!” Roman said quickly. “And makes a lot of sense. I just didn’t realize that was a thing.”

“Yes, it’s a ‘thing,’” Logan said. “You can doubtless find more online.”

“Huh,” Roman said. Things began to make a bit more sense. “Oh, gosh, I’m incredibly sorry for flirting with you! I didn’t realize--”

“It’s fine.” Logan paused and coughed a bit into his hand. “I-didn’t-mind-that-much.”

“What?”

“I--” Logan looked embarrassed. “I didn’t mind. It was...nice.”

“Really?” Roman asked. “But you said you didn’t like romantic stuff--”

“You were only complimenting me!” Logan said. “You said I was--cute. I enjoyed it. I only ignored it because I knew you meant it in a romantic sense, and I didn’t want to lead you on.”

Roman stared at him. Now things made more and less sense. “You didn’t mind it when I called you cute, though?”

Logan stared at his feet. The rain drummed around them.

“You hadn’t heard of aromantic,” Logan finally said, “so I doubt you’ve heard of this, either. But--the word is queerplatonic. And it’s, um--” Logan waved a hand. He was definitely blushing. It was completely adorable. “Even though some aromantic people don’t experience romantic attraction, they still have queerplatonic partners. For me, it’s like--I don’t want to kiss anyone, or do many traditionally romantic things, but--”

Roman nodded, making a mental note to do a lot of research. And also to hug Logan, when they were less wet, because he’d just fully comprehended that Logan had come out. That took bravery! And Roman was a bit honored that Logan trusted him enough to share.

“But I still like people,” Logan said. “In a--non-platonic way. I want to spend time with them, hold hands...” His voice trailed off. “Call them cute,” he finally said, barely loud enough for Roman to hear.

“Oh,” Roman said, again, because he didn’t have anything else to say.

“And I like you.” Logan looked up at him. “I do, Roman, a lot. Just--not in the way you were hoping. I don’t mind kisses on the cheek, but I’m never going to kiss you in the rain, and I would never be a romantic partner.”

The rain was still steady. Roman was pretty sure his arm was outside the umbrella, since it was getting drenched, but he didn’t care.

“So I apologize,” Logan said. “For that, and for all the miscommunication, because I should have told you instead of--letting it happen.”

Letting it happen. Because Logan liked it, he appreciated it, he might have even become flustered--Roman called him cute, and Logan liked it.

And Roman should have been heartbroken, or at least disappointed. His crush didn’t reciprocate his feelings! Roman liked Logan romantically, and Logan didn’t return that. No romantic flowers or lucky fountains or kisses in the rain. Just another thing that real life lacked.

The rain soaked slowly through Roman’s sleeve. Logan was probably right, anyway. Kissing in the rain would be cold and not fun at all. Roman couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to--

Wait.

Was the rain the issue? Or was it something else?

Roman stared at Logan. His lab partner. Logan was cute and adorable and smart and incredibly sweet, and Roman liked him a lot, and Roman wanted to--

Roman wanted to what?

Kiss him on the cheek. Hold his hand. Watch him ramble. Compliment him and see him blush. Maybe spend time together at coffee shops, or get him a present for his birthday, or even live together at some point--be together.

And that was all romantic. Obviously.

Wasn’t it?

Roman mentally ran through all his daydreams about Logan. Lots of hand holding. Leaning his shoulder into Logan’s. Hugging, or cuddling, or dropping a kiss on the top of his head.

Nowhere on that list was a kiss on the lips. Or a romantic date. Spending time together, sure, but it was different, it was--

Oh.

Huh.

“Aromantic,” Roman blurted out. “That was the word, right?”

“Um--” Logan looked a bit surprised. Roman realized he must have been standing there for several minutes, completely silent. “Yes.”

“So it’s people that don’t experience romantic attraction,” Roman continued. “Do--is it possible for them to kind of want romance anyway? Or think they do?”

“I don’t,” Logan said, “if that’s what you’re asking--”

“No, I’m--” Roman blew out a breath. “I’m trying to figure something out.”

Logan watched him carefully, but nodded. “Yes, some people enjoy romantic activities while not experiencing romantic attraction. Or their romantic attraction may be partial or fluctuate--it’s a spectrum--or they could simply believe they need to do traditionally romantic things, because of society’s focus on romantic love.”

Roman nodded very rapidly. "Cool. So cool. Cool-cool-cool.”

“Are you...” Logan looked confused. “Alright?”

“Yes? Maybe?” Roman laughed a bit wildly. “I am really not sure. Can you give me a second?”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Roman took a deep breath. Logan was still watching him, glasses flecked with drops of rain. Logan was a good friend. They’d be friends no matter what, and that wasn’t less than anything. Roman could happily love him as a friend.

Friends didn’t daydream about making each other smile.

Friends didn’t want to kiss each other--on the cheek, on the nose, in rain or not. And--and not on the lips. Not really at all.

Roman knew how love worked. He’d seen the movies. Fall in love, kiss, get married, ride into the sunset. That was how everyone did it. That was what he was supposed to want.

But movies also had dragons and lucky fountains and princes. None of those things were quite the same in real life. In real life, kisses in the rain were just soggy and cold and entirely un-romantic.

In real life, Roman didn’t want to kiss someone in the rain.

Or someone outside of it, either.

True love. Roman always knew what true love looked like. But maybe he didn’t understand love as well as he thought.

Maybe things worked a little bit differently in real life.

And maybe--that was okay.

“Uh,” Roman said eloquently. “You were saying something about--queerplatonic?”

“Yes?” Logan asked. “Why?”

“Uh,” Roman said again. “So, like--partners. Together. But not, like, dating.”

“Yes.” Logan’s expression tightened. “Roman, you don’t have to--if that’s not what you’d like, it wouldn’t work--”

“It is, though.” It felt like a dragon-sized weight had flown off his shoulders. “It is--I don’t think I ever wanted that stuff, everyone just told me I did, and I--I just kinda want to be with you. I don’t know if that makes me aromantic or what, and I can probably figure that part out at some point, but--yeah. I...like calling you cute, because you are. I like studying with you. And I like being with you. Rain or otherwise.”

Logan watched him with wide eyes. “You’re--serious?”

“Yeah!” Roman beamed. “You just, like, made my entire life make sense, which is kind of terrifying but also very cool and everything is different now and I still really like you.”

“Oh,” Logan said, quietly. “Oh,” he said again.

“So, uh--” Roman’s confidence fizzled a bit. “I dunno. But--would you be interested in going out to eat? Or doing something together on our own? Like--a queerplatonic date?”

“Oh,” Logan said a third time. He was blushing violently. “Er--yes, if you’d be amiable to it, I’d enjoy--”

“Yes!” Roman cheered loudly. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “It sounds...nice.”

“It really does, doesn’t it?” Roman smiled at him and adjusted the umbrella. “We should talk about this more, of course, but it’s still raining and you have places to be.”

“Oh! Right!” Logan huffed. “We’ve been standing together in the quad like a pair of fools.”

“A pair of fools basically sums us up,” Roman agreed. “A pair of fools in love,” he added in a sing-song voice.

“Hey,” Logan complained, blushing again.

“So cute,” Roman said. “You adorable nerd, and I can say that to you now, holy Hera--”

 “You certainly can,” Logan said, attempting to cover his face. “Congratulations.”

“Aww, no, come on!” Roman gently tugged Logan’s arms away from his face. “There you are!”

Logan wrinkled his nose. And on impulse, Roman leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

Logan’s squeak was the most adorable thing Roman had ever heard. He leaned back into place and gave Logan a second to compose himself.

“You know, I think I was right,” Roman said after Logan finally stopped malfunctioning. “Kissing in the rain is pretty fun after all!”

“Shut up,” Logan said. “And you said most people don’t do it under umbrellas.”

“You said we’d get cold!” Roman smiled at him. “Besides, I think I’m allowed to rewrite the story a bit.”

Logan smiled back. “If you’d like to.”

“I’d definitely like to,” Roman said, pulling Logan closer and holding the umbrella above them. “‘Cause this way, I feel like I’m doing it right.”

Give me a prompt, and I’ll write a short drabble!

#logince #roman sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #queerplatonic logince #me: okay no more long fics only short and sweet #me: promptly writes a confession fic #anyway welcome back to 'avery writes qprs by projecting their relationship with their partner onto the characters' #like shhh my qpp is lovely and makes for very good inspiration #asks and answers #anon #averywrites #(also yes this is all going super slow i apologize i have to eat now but i will write more prompts soon i promise)

[riversofmars]

Love Is Begun By Time

So this is sort of my contribution to Pride Month... two wlw couples breaking out of the Tower of London to steal a jewel from Queen Elizabeth I. River/13 and Liv/Helen! 

Featuring: 

endless River/13 banter and healthy relationship

Liv being a gay mess 

River flirting with EVERYONE 

Helen being cute, clueless and working through the prejudice of the time she grew up in 

aliens in Elizabethan London 

BAMF River Song 

Shakespeare quotes

Eight being a clueless himbo

Anyway! Happy Pride!

Love Is Begun By Time

“Any bright ideas?“ Helen Sinclair shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable but no matter how she tried, she didn’t seem to be able to. The heavy iron chains that kept her fixed to the wall left her with little wiggle room.

“Nothing springs to mind…“ Liv Chenka looked around the dirty dungeon cell. The stone wall behind her was cold and hard against her back, the ground was wet and grimy; the straw did little in the way of cushioning. The metal of the chains had started digging into her wrists and were rubbing her skin red and raw. She’d just about had it with being locked up. “This is usually when the Doctor turns up to save the day…“ She groaned, annoyed at the situation they found themselves in. Liv had always been partial to trips to her ancestral home-world but since getting locked up in the Tower of London pending execution, she had quickly fallen out of love with Elizabethan England.

They had lost track of how long they had been imprisoned for as there was very little natural light. All Liv knew for sure was that she was getting hungry. As she considered the hopelessness of their situation, she glanced to Helen in the twilight. She was huffing and puffing, trying to get comfortable and Liv smiled a little, despite it all. She was glad that she wasn’t alone. If she was to choose someone to be locked up with, it would be Helen Sinclair. Liv’s thoughts on how lovely her best friend looked in period dress were interrupted when she heard distant voices.

“Can you hear that?“ The med-tech looked up and listened out. The walls of the dungeon were thick but she was sure someone was heading their way.

“Voices?“ Helen listened up as well. “Maybe someone is coming to get us, maybe it’s the Doctor! Hello?!“ She called out but there was no response. There were, however, voices in the corridor and they were getting close enough to make out.

“You just had to do that, didn’t you, you just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself!“ The first voice was female, distinctly Northern and obviously deeply annoyed.

“Well, how is one to keep one’s hands at one’s sides when one is pressed to one’s wife in a broom closet.“ The other voice - also female and oddly familiar - seemed to be taking the whole thing far less seriously.

“That voice…“ Helen had noticed it too and they exchanged confused glances. It was incredibly familiar but neither of them could quite place it, not yet anyway.

“We were hiding!“ The Northern woman snapped, still getting closer, and the response came promptly:

“You needn’t have squeaked like that!“

“You could have given me some heads up before jumping right in.“

“What can I say, sometimes foreplay seems like wasted effort.“ The exchange was quick, witty and effortless. Whoever they were, they knew each other very well and knew how to press each other’s buttons.

Liv raised her eyebrows at the statement, trying not to chuckle. She spotted the expression on Helen’s face, noticing a faint blush at the impropriety the words insinuated, and in Elizabethan times no less!  

“We’ve been married for thousands of years, you still need warning?“ The familiar voice teased.

“Well, this body is different…“ The heavy wooden door opened and a blonde woman came into view. Her hair fell in a short bob, her clothes were a colourful ensemble that did not match the local trends of fashion and her bright eyes were firmly fixed on the woman beside her who smirked:

“Yes, I have noticed.“

Liv and Helen gasped in surprise as they recognised none other than Professor River Song, time travelling archeologist and wife to their best friend! She was lead into the cell alongside the blonde and appeared to be teasing her with great enthusiasm.

“Shut up, the two of you!“ The guard that was accompanying them snapped. He had clearly heard enough of their bickering along the way. “Get in there.“ He gave them both a shove.

“Alright, alright, no need to be like that.“ The blonde rolled her eyes.

“Now, really that’s no way to treat a lady.“ River feigned outrage. She straightened out the era appropriate dress she was wearing - much like Liv and Helen themselves. She looks fantastic in a corset. The unbidden thought struck Liv like a punch in the gut. She forced her eyes away and focused on the other woman instead. Her long coat, rainbow t-shirt and odd three-quarter length trousers were certainly not of the time; the only logical deduction was that she was a time traveller, too. Perhaps they had just found their way out of their awkward situation.  

“You will hang in the morning for attempting to steal the Queen’s jewel.“ The guard snapped, glaring at the two women who seemed remarkably unfazed at the prospect of their impending execution.

“Not to mention the indecent behaviour, right?“ River called after him but he didn’t respond, he just threw the door shut.

“River?“ Helen spoke up first and the two new arrivals looked around, surprised. They had been too caught up in their conversation to notice the two women chained to the wall.

“Liv? Helen?“ It was the blonde that spoke first and they looked at her in surprise. How does she know our names? Liv wondered. Had they, perhaps, come to save them? Or maybe she was someone from their future? Maybe they just hadn’t met yet. She didn’t have an opportunity to continue the thought process as River demanded their attention:

“Hello girls!“ A wide grin spread across the professor’s face. “Fancy seeing you here!“ She turned to the woman at her side: “Don’t tell me you’ve done this before.“

“I don’t remember it.“ The other woman shook her head slowly. “But of course, must be because of the time lines crossing.“ She exclaimed, as if the penny dropped. “Come here you two!“ She skipped over and threw herself at them for tight hugs that they couldn’t evade in their tied up state.

“Do we… know you?“ Liv frowned pulling away as much as she could manage. It wasn’t that she disliked a hug from a pretty girl, she just usually preferred introductions first.

“Oh right, the body, uh…“ The blonde straightened herself up, confused for a moment, she looked to River for help who started laughing.

“This is the Doctor.“ River gestured to the blonde who gave a sheepish grin.

“No…“ Helen’s eyes widened in shock.

“Really?“ Liv was just as dumbfounded.

“What can I say, regeneration is a lottery.“ The Doctor grinned and took a little twirl that was so very much like the Doctor they knew.

“And you hit the jackpot this time around.“ River smirked as she regarded her wife’s backside while the Doctor faced her friends again.

“I’ll say…“ Liv found herself saying before she could think better of it.

“So you two are still…“ Helen looked to River, seemingly confused.

“Thirteenth honeymoon, if you will.“ River grinned.

“Right…“ The language scholar managed a smile that wasn’t quite comfortable and it made Liv’s heart sink. Of course. Helen, despite all the wonderful adventures they had been on and all the extraordinary things they had seen, was still a woman of her time, Liv realised. Born 1933. It wasn’t usually noticeable. She took scientific advancement and alien life in her stride but every now and then, a little bit of her upbringing, the time she was raised in, shone through.

Liv rarely thought about their different backgrounds, in most things they were so very much alike; but still occasionally, the awareness of it painfully push itself to the forefront of Liv’s mind. Usually when she considered how the light reflected in Helen’s bright, intelligent eyes or how much she missed her when she wasn’t right there by her side. The awareness remained like a wall, in insurmountable obstacle, that Liv never dared approach. It was what always kept her hand firmly by her side, rather than slipping into the one well within reach.

“Thirteenth?“ Liv forced herself out of her painful thoughts and instead marvelled at how different that Doctor was to the one they were travelling with. She had seen them change before and learned how one person could wear different faces, but that was quite a change indeed.

“Long time into my future - your future - however you want to look at it.“ The Doctor seemed to appreciate that it was a lot to take in.

“I’m going to need some time to process this…“ Helen laughed lightly, seemingly over the initial shock.

“Maybe you could get us out of these chains in the meantime?“ Liv suggested as her right hand was falling asleep and her wrists stung.

“Well, Ms. Chenka, in my experience there is a lot of fun to be had with restraints.“ River gave her a wink and Liv rolled her eyes. Did River Song have any other modi operandi apart from witty seductress and deadly assassin?

“Very funny.“ The med-tech huffed, hoping the little bit of pink that snuck onto her cheeks didn’t show in the dark of the cell. She wasn’t even necessarily attracted to River, but there probably wasn’t a person alive in this universe - no matter their race, gender or sexual orientation - that was immune to River Song’s charm. She hoped Helen hadn’t noticed.

“Yes chains, right, then we find a way out of here. Not really in the mood for a hanging.“ The Doctor ignored the little exchanged, clearly not phased by her wife’s flirting, and pulled her sonic screwdriver from her coat.

“Oh you know, some executions can be quite entertaining or even enjoyable affairs, there is this little planet just off the Orion belt where…“ River started but for once, the Doctor dared to interrupt her.

“I don’t think they care right now, River.“ She crouched down and sonic-ed the restraints until they fell away. “There you go.“ She smiled satisfied as Liv and Helen shook off the rest of the chains.

“Much better, thanks.“ Helen smiled, rubbing her aching joints.

“So what did you two do to get banged up in here? Were you having a bit too much fun in the broom closet as well?“ River smirked as they clambered to their feet and brushed off the dirt.

“Sorry?“ Helen looked over to her, visibly confused.

“River.“ The Doctor gave her wife’s arm a little slap.

“What?“ River looked back to the Doctor, confused, apparently wondering what she had done wrong. She then looked back to Liv and Helen, sizing them up. Liv averted her eyes while Helen just looked utterly confused. “You don’t mean to tell me, after all this time, you still haven’t…“

“I think that’s quite enough of that, River, dear.“ The Doctor grabbed River’s hand and pulled her along to the door. “Let’s see if we can’t get us all out of here before past me turns up and this gets really complicated, hm?“

“Now there is a fun idea, you had such luscious hair back then too…“ River reminisced, brushing her hand through her blonde bob while the Doctor attempted to sonic the door.

“Wood, damn it.“ The Doctor groaned in annoyance.

“You would have thought after all this time, it would do wood.“ River sighed theatrically.

“Wise arse…“ The Doctor huffed as she crouched down to examine the lock more closely.

“So what were you up to, my favourite girls?“ River turned back to the other two women who were watching their interactions with fascination. They knew River was the Doctor’s wife, she had told them as much, but she had also told them that their Doctor couldn’t know about it yet. Therefore, they had never actually seen them interact as lovers might. Looking at River with that version of the Doctor, they could picture it. The Doctor really hadn’t changed all that much.

“We were searching for an artefact…“ Helen started and looked to Liv to help her out.

“Alien technology that has been given to Queen Elizabeth as a gift and it’s been influencing her, she’s been commissioning these towers that the Doctor reckons the aliens will use to create a… oh God knows what, the Doctor will have to explain.“ Liv shrugged. They had been detained rather early on in their attempt to sneak into the palace, so they had very little to go on.

“Yes, that’s what we’ve been looking for, too.“ The Doctor exclaimed excitedly.

“We were having a lovely honeymoon, actually.“ River interjected. “The theatre, you know. Shakespeare? Live? You just had to check this out.“

“Well, I didn’t remember that it was all in hand already, did I.“ The Doctor retorted.

“So do you know where the artefact is?“ Liv asked, hoping there would be an easy solution to the whole mess.

“We would have had it by now if someone could have held their nerve.“ River pursed her lips.

“You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.“ The Doctor glared at her wife.

“Can you honestly blame me?“ River smirked giving a little shrug.

“I can’t… blame you, I mean.“ Liv found herself saying, looking the Doctor up and down.

“Thank you very much.“ River gave the med-tech a winning smile and proceeded to stick her tongue out at her wife who just rolled her eyes.

“Liv?“ Helen raised her eyebrows questioningly at her friend who was still in a world of her own when the Doctor bent over again and continued to examine the lock.

“Hm? What?“ Liv blinked, looking back to Helen who seemed rather incredulous.

“That’s the Doctor!“ She pointed out, her voice somewhere between amusement and concern.

“Yeah but… not really… I mean…“ Liv began to stutter. “Past him, good God no, but… I mean…“

“Right…“ Helen’s eyes widened in surprise and Liv silently scolded herself.

That went very badly for so many reasons, Liv realised. She didn’t mean to look like she was checking out their best friend, just because they had changed bodies. She didn’t mean to make Helen uncomfortable by flaunting interest in a pretty girl. And most importantly, she didn’t want Helen thinking she was interested in the Doctor or anyone else for that matter. Anyone else except for Helen herself, of course; but that she couldn’t say.

River, apparently, could tell that Liv was getting very uncomfortable, so she decided to move things along.

“Anyway, where were we.. trying to break out? Step aside dear.“ She gently pushed her wife aside so she could have a look at the lock herself. She pulled something that looked an awful lot like a swiss army knife from somewhere within her dress.

“You okay, Helen?“ The Doctor noticed that Helen had gone rather quiet and contemplative.

“Yeah fine, I…“ The language scholar managed a smile.

“There we are.“ River announced triumphantly and gave the door a gentle nudge, swinging it open.

“You really are good, aren’t you.“ Liv chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief.  

“I’m not sure good is the right word.“ Helen laughed a little as well.

“Better not be.“ River smirked and hid the knife somewhere around the edges of her cleavage. “Come along, girls.“ She stuck her head out the door to make sure the coast was clear. The corridor was indeed empty and confidently, River and the Doctor lead the way. Liv and Helen followed slightly more cautiously.

“So… the Doctor…“ Helen said after walking in silence for a few minutes.

“What?“ Liv looked around to her, confused.

“You said you couldn’t blame River…“ Helen observed, mulling over what she had said.

“Helen…“ Liv felt her throat close up. Of course she had got the wrong end of the stick, but how to explain without making the situation worse?

“No, I mean, I uh…“ Helen seemingly was struggling to find the right words as well, so Liv hastily tried to justify herself:

“I didn’t mean I wanted to… I mean, she’s the Doctor. Plus, she’s with the Professor, so…“ She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. She hadn’t meant it like that at all.

“But if she wasn’t, you’d…“ Helen looked ahead to where the Doctor and River were standing to either side of a door and glancing into the next corridor; a perfect team, so in tune with each other.

“Why are we talking about this?“ Liv asked gently. She so badly wanted to reach for her arm or her shoulder, create some physical contact, but she didn’t.

“No, I mean… I just didn’t realise you had these feelings…“ Helen huffed, her tone incredibly difficult to pick apart.

“I don’t! Not for the Doctor.“ Liv grabbed Helen’s arm and stopped her. She couldn’t leave her in that belief.

“But you said…“ Helen didn’t look at her, she adverted her eyes, looking up ahead to make sure they didn’t lose track of River and the Doctor.

“She’s pretty, that’s all. That was all I was saying, nothing else. I don’t want to and never would and… this is the Doctor we’re talking about!“ Liv insisted firmly, she would have shouted for emphasis if they weren’t currently on the run, breaking out of prison. Her tone must have been a lot sharper than she realised, as Helen stared at her shocked. Quickly, Liv let go of her arm. “Besides, it’s not just about that, is it.“ She mumbled, somewhat apologetical about her outburst. “To be… interested… in someone like that, there has to be an awful lot there. Like trust. Mutual interests. Shared values. Time… spending time with that person, getting to know them, making memories together and experiences and…“ She broke off. “I just mean, a pretty face isn’t everything.“ She shrugged and started walking again, partly because she reasoned that they should keep up with the others, partly because she wanted to put an end to the conversation.

“But you’d… like a pretty pace? More than, say, someone like our Doctor…?“ Helen asked after a few moments of silence between them.

“You mean a man?“ Liv retorted without looking at her. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

“Uhh… yeah… I guess that’s what I mean…“ Helen mumbled, not looking to her either.

“I really don’t care, Helen.“ Liv sighed, defeated. She actually laughed a little at how absurd the conversation was from her point of view. Humanity had moved past that a long long time ago and she couldn't believe that her beautiful, clever friend hadn’t come to the same realisation yet. “When you like someone it’s not for their gender, you like the person, wouldn’t you say?“ Liv asked, looking over to her at last.

“I’d never… really thought about it, I guess…“ Helen replied, her voice soft.

“That’s just your time, the way you were raised, it’s… you can’t help it…“ Liv shook her head, she couldn’t even blame her. She was born in a different world and it would take time to unlearn what society had drummed into her for most of her life. Far flung adventures in impossible worlds just weren’t enough. It would take time, like all things. Love is begun by time… Liv thought, Shakespeare making an unbidden appearance in her troubled mind. Love is begun by time and time qualifies the spark and fire of it. She wondered if that spark would ever be allowed to turn to a blaze. A steady, hungry fire had been burning inside her for so long already; and perhaps Helen would douse it in cold water at last.

“Seems so silly now, looking back…“ Helen spoke to herself more than anything else but took Liv by surprise nonetheless. “After everything I’ve seen, the places we’ve been too, the futures we’ve experienced…“ She shook her head to herself. “I guess I still haven’t quite caught up with everything yet…“

“It does seem silly…“ Liv didn’t know what else to say but she felt a sense of relief at Helen’s thought process on the matter. Her friend was intelligent, inquisitive and considerate. She reflected on things and didn’t just take them for granted. She questioned and prodded, more than able to make up her own mind. Maybe she just had never had reason to reevaluate her feelings on the matter and Liv felt a sting for knowing she herself hadn’t been reason enough to do just that. But then, perhaps, she had never dared to give her a proper reason to, either.  

“Shush, you two, or we will be back in the tower in a minute…“ River pressed her finger’s to Liv’s lips as they came to an abrupt halt and she nearly bumped into her.

“Guards?“ Helen whispered as Liv was too dumbfounded to utter anything with River Song’s slender finger pressed to her lips.

“I’m going to create a distraction, you guys go ahead and I’ll meet you by the exit.“ The Doctor spoke quietly. She glanced around the corner. There were four guards heading their way. “Where did I say I went? Where was I when you were detained?“ She turned back to her former companions.

“You were taken to the Queen, apparently she had been looking for you everywhere.“ Liv answered slowly, recalling the series of events that had brought them there.

“Ahh, yes… Lizzie…“ The Doctor couldn’t help a little smirk.

“Virgin Queen no longer, naughty naughty, good job I’m not the jealous type.“ River wagged her finger at her wife who gave an innocent shrug and sheepish grin. “She’s not the jealous type, either, just for the record.“ River gave Helen a wink who had no idea what to do with that. River Song’s constant flirting and innuendo was a lot to handle. She flushed a little, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Liv who felt a wave of jealousy knocking her slightly. She had no right to be jealous, did she? River just had that effect on people.

“So what would the Queen want with the Doctor?“ Liv tired to focus her mind on something else.

“I may have married her… previous me… future me, from your point of view…“ The Doctor waved it off as unimportant.

“Seriously?“ Helen exclaimed and all of them shushed her.

“Anyway, that will keep the Queen preoccupied, won’t it. Plenty of time for us to steal into the palace and get the artefact.“ The Doctor whispered with some urgency. The guards would be getting close. “Let’s get out of here, my TARDIS is parked just at either side of the Houses of Parliament.“ There were nods all round. “So about that distraction…“ She turned back, reached for her sonic and realised that River had suddenly disappeared. Then there were muffled cries, groans, sounds of something knocking into the wall, and the thud of bodies hitting the floor.

“Let’s get going, dear, we haven’t got all day.“ River called to them, signalling that the coast was clear.

“Why do our honeymoons always end like this?“ The Doctor huffed as they stepped out onto the corridor where River had struck down four fully grown men without so much as ruffling a hair on her impressive head of curls.

“Because you really like it when I strut my stuff, Sweetie.“ River winked at her wife who did seem a little tighter wound than a moment before. “You know I can have you on your back even quicker than that.“

“Promises, promises.“ The Doctor mumbled but the pink on her cheeks betrayed her feelings on the matter.

“Does the flirting ever stop?“ Liv felt a little hot under the collar as well. There certainly was something incredibly attractive about a woman that could handle herself like that.

“Not as long as it makes her blush like that.“ River smirked proud of the effect she had on her wife.

“Is this what you two are usually like?“ Helen asked. She seemed intrigued to know how River would have been with their Doctor, given half a chance.

“Your Doctor didn’t know who I was yet and couldn’t know, so you can’t really compare it. Doesn’t mean I love him any less.“ River answered, seemingly knowing full well where she was going with it.

“Maybe a little bit less?“ The Doctor interjected and River shook her head, laughing:

“I love all my spouses equally.“ She slipped her hand into the Doctor’s before she could start sulking. “Now come along, we haven’t got all day!“

“Wow…“ Was all Helen and Liv could manage as they stepped into the Doctor’s TARDIS.

“You redecorated.“ Helen observed and the Doctor grinned:

“You like it?“ She asked as she marched up to the console and set coordinates. “Just a quick hop…“ She pushed down a lever. “And we’re in the gardens of Richmond Palace.“

“You seem to have gotten better at flying her.“ Liv commented as they stepped outside and were exactly where she had intended for them to go.

“Don’t let appearances fool you, Ms. Chenka.“ River hummed in amusement.

“Right, where are we going?“ Helen asked before the Doctor could launch into a defence of her flying.

“I’m keeping the Queen busy so we just need to evade the guards and find the artefact, destroy it, and be on our way, easy, no?“ The Doctor put her hands on her hips, looking around for confirmation.

“If we knew where the artefact was and what it looked like.“ Liv sighed. They had gotten as far as that last time, with their Doctor.

“Way ahead of you.“ River smiled and pulled a scanner from somewhere in her dress. What else does she keep in there, Liv wondered. “Looks like it’s in the private vault… at least that’t not the private chambers.“ River mused, holding out the scanner for everyone to see. There was a red dot pulsating not too far away from them.

“Now, that would be awkward…“ The Doctor admitted.

“You guys better stay here.“ River turned to Liv and Helen

“What? You’re leaving us behind?“ Helen protested, incredulous.

“I’d leave her behind too but she gets offended.“ River nodded towards her wife.

“River!“ The Doctor huffed.

“Oh, alright then, all come along, just don’t moan if we end up back in the tower again cause you got us caught.“ River sighed, giving in.

River was quick to find a window on the ground floor that was easily opened with the help of her sonic trowel - another item she just happened to have on her person - and they climbed inside. The corridor was empty and there were no alarm systems to consider in Elizabethan times.

“This way…“ River indicated, following her scanner.

They snuck through corridors and glamorous rooms, each sitting room more luscious than the next, until finally, they came to a room full of display cases.

“There it is.“ The Doctor whispered and pointed to the far end of the room. A large jewel sat upon a red cushion, guards stood either side of it.

“Allow me…“ River was about to make a dash for it when suddenly a large tentacle shot out of the darkness and knocked all of them over, like bowling pins. Despite the racket, the guards in the room up ahead didn’t even blink, they seemed to be under the influence of the jewel.

“Bloody hell…“ Liv groaned, dazed for a moment after hitting her head.

“Are you okay, you knocked your head pretty badly…“ Helen seemed to have fared better, she was quick to lean over her and brush her hair back. Liv’s struggle to think clearly was not due to head injury but rather the way Helen pulled her up and held her close.

“I thought I was the med-tech around here…“ She managed a half-hearted joke but got lost in Helen’s bright eyes. The concern she found there made her heart beat a little faster.

“You’re not from around here…“ A deep voice hummed demanding their attention. A creature the size of a small van stepped from the shadows. Stepped was probably the wrong word for it. It slid, as it resembled a slug. A slug that had been crossed with an octopus, as long tentacles hung at its sides. It accessed the group with beady, black eyes while they clambered to their feet.

“And neither are you.“ The Doctor squared her jaw, holding her sonic out like a weapon. Protectively, she stepped in front of her friends. “You do realise this is a level five planet, don’t you?“

“This planet is not important.“ The creature declared with a guttural sound that resembled a laugh.

“Oh, I beg to differ and you have made a very big mistake by choosing it.“ The Doctor retorted firmly.

“The one that’s made a mistake is you, by coming here. This world will soon be ours.“ The alien seemed unimpressed by her declaration and slid forward. Behind it, guards appeared and advanced towards them as well. The Doctor and River exchanged glances, as did Helen and Liv, weighing their options.

“No, it won’t. Not once we’ve destroyed the jewel you’re using to exert control over these people.“ The Doctor stated but retreated a little as the guards came closer. Their eyes were blank, they looked into nothingness but moved ahead regardless.

“Their minds are weak.“ The alien laughed again.

“And you’re ugly but I wasn’t gonna mention it.“ The Doctor snapped. “Now, you have a choice. You either leave this planet and spare yourself the humiliation of us kicking you out, or we make you.“ She did her best to sound threatening.

“You and what army?“ The creature tilted its barely distinguishable head.

“I don’t need an army, I’m the Doctor.“ The Doctor declared and she halted her retreat. Time to stand tall and firm.

“You’re the Doctor?“ The alien echoed.

“Heard of me then? Good! That should give you reason to run.“ The Doctor grinned.

“Doctor who?“ The alien asked and the Doctor’s face fell with annoyance.

“Well, that’s a bit disappointing, never mind, but that means you probably won’t know my lovely wife either. Professor River Song, top-notch archeologist, great hair and one hell of a marksman… woman… Anyway, I digress, point is, she’s a great shot, and while you've been listening to me singing her praises, she’d taken aim at your jewel and any second now, she’ll…“

A shot rang out and the sound of splintering glass was ear piercingly sharp.

“NO!“ The alien wailed as the guards collapsed where they were marching. Gone was their puppet master’s influence and it left them spent and unconscious.

“Never give her the opportunity to talk.“ River pointed her gun at the alien. Another thing she just happened to have pulled out of her dress. Or was it from under it? Liv found herself swallowing hard at the thought of River having strapped a gun holster to her thigh… Either way, she had shot the jewel at a great distance, through two windows and an open door. And it had only taken her one attempt.

“You will pay for this!“ The creature screeched and lashed out with its tentacles that suddenly grew sharp thorns.

“Oh no, you don’t!“ The Doctor sonic-ed a chandelier above its head that came crashing down while River delivered three quick shorts, two at tentacles, the third right in the head. It was, however, Liv that reacted the quickest.

“Helen!“ She pulled her friend around, out of the way of the one tentacle that made it past River. She knocked her to the ground just in time and River quickly shoot the tentacle for good measure, even after the creature lay motionless.

“Let’s get out of here before actual guards arrive, come on!“ The Doctor didn’t give them time to recover, she pulled her friends up and pushed them alone the corridor as voices approached.

“You saved me.“ Helen seemed thoroughly out of breath when they finally reached the safety of the shore of the Themes. She looked to Liv would was just as exhausted and leaned against the balustrade to catch her breath.

“Well, couldn’t just let it get you, could I, not after all that time the Doctor and I have spent on getting you back…“ Liv huffed, trying to downplay how terrifying the thought of losing Helen really was. She had been in that situation, not knowing whether she was dead or alive, if she would ever see her again, and she couldn’t risk losing her again.

“Right… he probably wouldn’t have been best pleased if he’d have to find an antidote to some weird disease or God knows what that thing would have done…“ Helen mumbled.

“Exactly…“ Liv brushed her hair back awkwardly.

“You know, you two are really painful to watch!“ River interrupted, her voice full of frustration.

“What?“ The two of them looked up simultaneously to find River scowling at them, placing her hands on her hips, seemingly about to give a lecture.

“Right, I’m not telling you what to do but come on!“ The professor exclaimed exasperated. “Liv! Just take the plunge, okay?“

Liv blushed deeply. Was she that easy to read? To River Song, apparently so.

“I think I’ve had enough of London for the time being.“ The Doctor interrupted, deliberately intervening to give her friends an out should they need it. They didn’t look ready to have that conversation. “We can catch Shakespeare another time. Tropical beach next?“ She looked to River who rolled her eyes at her interruption.

“Wait, what about the Doctor, our Doctor?“ Helen suddenly realised.

“He’ll get himself out of that situation.“ The Doctor waved off her concern. “Might just take a little while. Maybe don’t wait up…“ She winked.

“So you do remember it! You said you didn’t!“ River exclaimed somewhere between affronted and amused.

“Only vaguely, time lines and all…“ The Doctor tried to play it off but her wife wasn’t having it:

“You just didn’t want to tell me what the sex was like!“ River retorted.

“I thought you weren’t jealous!“ The Doctor laughed.

“I’m not jealous, I’m curious! The virgin queen, I mean, there’s a story there, isn’t there!“ River insisted with a mischievous grin. “Besides… I’m taking you home tonight and that’s what counts.“ She grabbed hold of her chin and placed a firm kiss on her slightly parted lips. The Doctor chuckled and kissed her back. Nothing quite like a kiss from her wife at the end of an adventure, so it seemed. Liv couldn’t deny she quite enjoyed seeing them kiss, though there was a twinge of jealously as well. It wasn’t directed at either one of them but at the station in itself. She looked to Helen, more longingly than she probably should have, but the language scholar didn’t noticed as she just cleared her throat:

“Are you just going to leave us now?“ She asked as River and the Doctor pulled apart and looked back to them, somewhat sheepishly, almost as if they had already forgotten they were there.

“We’ll see you guys around, places to go, people to see, marriages to consummate.“ River smirked with a little wave of her free hand, the other pulling her wife close to her side. She regarded each of them with an affectionate smile. “Hope to see you again soon.“

“Until next time, my dear friends. I miss going on adventures with you…“ The Doctor smiled as well, fondly, in a reminiscent sort of way. “Be good to yourselves.“

“And you, Doctor.“ Liv mirrored her warm expression. “Till next time, Professor.“

“Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon.“ Helen smiled. “Have fun.“

“You too!“ River grinned and pulled something from her corset. Because why wouldn’t she. “Here, in case the Doctor is a while yet.“ She threw something towards them and Liv caught it rather clumsily.

“What’s that?“ Helen asked and Liv opened her hand to reveal a key.

“Key’s to the honeymoon suite we were staying in. That lovely pub right across from the Globe, maybe you can go and catch a show and crash there. Won’t be needing it now.“ River grinned and turned to leave.

“Liv?“ The Doctor demanded her friend’s attention one last time, making River wait a moment longer.

“Yes?“ The med-tech looked up from the key.

“I think you’ve both waited long enough. Perspectives do change.“ The Doctor smiled encouragingly, waving a final goodbye. Then she took her wife’s hand and they made their way along the shore of the river, taking the long way around back to the TARDIS.

“What did she mean by that?“ Helen asked curiously once they were out of earshot. She turned towards her and seemed to assume that she knew exactly what the Doctor meant.

“What she means is… I need to stop being such a coward.“ Liv mumbled, taking a deep breath. How to even start? The pressure was unbearable as she considered what she stood to lose if she was wrong, but the thought of what she could gain was ever so tempting. Particularly when Helen reached out, took her hands into hers, gave them a firm, reassuring squeeze.

“You’re one of the bravest people I know!“ She insisted, full of determination and Liv could tell that she meant it.

“Not always, not when it comes to this…“ Liv sighed, averting her eyes.

“To what?“ Helen retorted, puzzled. She wasn’t making any sense to her and Liv couldn’t blame her. She couldn’t get coherent words out. “Liv, you’re scaring me, what’s going on?“ Helen raised her hand and pushed it under Liv’s chin, forcing her to meet her eyes.

Liv decided that she couldn't delay any longer. She had to do it. Maybe it was obvious to everyone but Helen who just didn’t expect it, didn’t know how to read the signs or what to do with them. Maybe it was a stupid idea but the Doctor and River seemed to think it wasn’t. Maybe they had foreknowledge they did not. They were from the future after all. Liv decided to trust them, to take the leap of faith and she leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her best friend’s lips.

It was like a still moment. One of those special spots in space and time that the Doctor might speak of, where everything was fixed, everything was just the way it was supposed to be and always would be. A still point in time. Liv pulled back slowly and searched Helen’s eyes, full of surprise and confusion.

“I like you, Helen. More than I think you realise or know what to do with.“ Liv whispered, unsure how to put an attraction, an affection, an adoration and admiration into words that wouldn’t scare her away and bare the heavy burden a declaration of love.

“Oh…“ Helen’s voice was soft.

“It’s uh…“ Liv started to panic when she didn’t say anything beyond that. No response. Not one way or another, just Oh. “I’m sorry.“ Heat rushed to her cheeks and she quickly let go of Helen’s hands. She took a fearful step back. She realised she had messed up. “That was stupid… forget I even, I mean… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, if you’re just not… that’s fine, you’re my friend, I don’t want to jeopardise that and…“ She started rambling excuses. She wished she could go back to before, her friendship with Helen meant everything to her. If that was all it was ever going to be, she could content herself with that, she could make her peace with it, but she couldn’t lose her.

“Liv…“ Helen held up her hands trying to calm her. “Liv, stop!“ She took a step towards her and grabbed her wildly gesticulating hands again. “Please listen…“ Liv stopped, Helen’s hands in hers pulling her back to the present, demanding her full attention. She remained quiet for a moment and just looked at Helen who ran her thumbs over the back of her hands, holding them tightly as if she was worried she would run off.

“Yes?“ Liv asked slowly, her heart hammering in her chest.

“You’re quite wonderful, you know?“ Helen smiled softly.

“I uh…“ Liv didn’t know how to respond, it was like her brain had stroked out, which, being a med-tech and all, she knew it hadn’t but that was what it felt like. Helen’s words just didn’t sink in, not until she let go of one hand to be able to place it on her cheek instead.

“You can kiss me again, if, you know… that’s something you want to do…“ She said softly, blushing a little and Liv could tell she meant it. Maybe it would take some getting used to, those feelings, and allowing herself to feel them but Liv was determined to help her along. Help her to accept them for the precious thing that they were and allow herself the freedom to find a kind of happiness that she previously hadn’t considered for herself.

“Oh I really want to…“ Liv’s inhibitions fell away in one liberating blast. She took Helen’s face in her hands and kissed her. Properly. With all the love and longing she had carried in her heart for so long and Helen didn’t pull away, she wasn’t scared or overwhelmed, she just leaned into it, kissed her back and held her close.

“You’re right, you know…“ Helen whispered as she rested her forehead against Liv’s.

“About what?“ Liv asked softly, running her fingers through Helen’s soft blonde hair like she had longed to ever since meeting her.

“With what you said in the Tower about time… and love…“ Helen closed her eyes. “Love is begun by time…“

“Shakespeare.“ Liv chuckled at the irony of them both thinking of the same quote. For all they knew, Hamlet might be having it’s world premiere at the Globe right now.

“We’ve been through so much together. Experienced so much. Spend so much time together. Precious time. Time doesn't just bring love… it’s also inhabited by it…“ Helen broke off, embarrassed and Liv wouldn’t push her for more. She had already gotten so much more than she had dared hope for. They had so much more time yet to come.

“You do have a way with words, Helen Sinclair…“ Liv whispered, not trusting her voice not to break were she to speak up.

“Well, that’s sort of my job…“ Helen chuckled and Liv laughed, shaking her head to herself. She didn’t have a way with words herself, so she just leaned in and kissed her again, confident she could get her point across another way.

“Liv? Helen? What are you…“ A voice called from down the road, footsteps hurrying closer. “Oh… Uh…“ The Doctor halted, confused for a moment.

“Doctor! We thought you were still… preoccupied…“ Liv let go of Helen who blushed like a teenager caught by their parents while making out with their crush.

“Yes, the artefact, I…“ The Doctor started but Liv interrupted him:  

“We’ve dealt with it.“

“You have?“ His face fell, almost disappointed and the two of them nodded. “Without me?“ There was a long pause as they nodded again. “Well, that’s just marvellous, isn’t it. How did you do it?“ He exclaimed after brief consideration. Helen and Liv exchanged amused glances, knowing full well he usually preferred to be the one to safe the day but they were quite capable in their own right.

“That’s a bit of a complicated story.“ Liv chuckled, wondering how to best explain without mentioning his future wife or the fact he would eventually turn into a very pretty blonde.

“I like a good story, let’s get back to the TARDIS then, if I can work out where I parked it…“ He looked around slightly disoriented. “I’ll put the kettle on and you can tell me all about it.“

“Maybe another time…“ Liv said, closing her hand around Helen’s as they started walking in search of the TARDIS.

“What?“ The Doctor looked over his shoulder, confused, watching the two of them following after him. He frowned and they could virtually see the clocks ticking in his brain. He was trying to work out what was different and why they would possibly be turning down a marvellous cup of tea.

“The recounting of the story… maybe that can wait a little while.“ Liv explained.

“Why?“ He seemed genuinely put out and they almost felt sorry for him.

“It’s just, Liv and I, we have some other stuff we want to talk about…“ Helen came to her aid, giving her hand a squeeze and Liv felt her heart soar. She had expected Helen to be more reluctant to hold her hand, particular in a public place in the distant past where it certainly was even less permissible than she had experienced. She could only hope that it didn’t feel as strange as she might have feared but the it felt extremely right.

“Right…“ The Doctor huffed, trying his best not to let his disappointment show. “Guess it’s just tea for one then… and you’re sure you don’t want me to tell you how I escaped the chambers of Queen Elizabeth?“ He looked back to find them shaking their heads.

“Not right now, no.“ Liv gave him an apologetic smile.

“Do you think he knows what’s going on?“ Helen whispered to Liv who just shrugged:

“Seems clueless as ever… Maybe he needs a few regenerations to think it over. Another five or so…“ Helen laughed a little and the Doctor started rambling again, up ahead of them, as the TARDIS come into view:

“Mind you, I have got this new novel, that’s gonna keep me busy while you do whatever it is you need to do. Came highly recommended. Detective novel, private eye in old town New York, Melody Malone, that sounds like a woman after my own heart.“

“Certainly sounds like it.“ Helen grinned and Liv laughed:

“Sounds like she would have a bag of tricks up her sleeve… or dress!“

#Doctor Who #fanfiction #fluff #fun #romance #wlw #femslash #general #River Song #thirteenth doctor #Thirteen #liv chenka #Helen Sinclair #Liv/Helen #space wives #river x thirteen #river x the doctor #liv x helen #Eighth doctor #Eight #gay mess #aliens #elizabethan era #shakspeare #doom coalition #ravenous #big finish audio

[hypnosisbuttd]

Hypnosis is Bullshit

(A gay Hypnosis Story)

“Alright Campers!” Chris shouts to the contestants in the cafeteria “It’s time for your next challenge!”

“What now?” Duncan asks annoyed.

“Aw what? Do you not enjoy my challenge?” Chris says sadly

“No” All of the contestants say simultaneously

“Rude...” Chris says, faking being offended. “Well it doesn’t matter cause you’re doing it anyways! Meet me out by the cabins! No not your housing arrangements, the OTHER cabins.”

Chris then proceeds to disappear.

The Campers leave their cafeteria, but then Duncan and Trent get into a little scuffle outside the doors.

“Don’t fucking push me dude” Trent snapped

“Well if your slow ass wasn’t taking up the entire doorway I wouldn’t have needed to” Duncan responds

“Bastard, you wanna fight me?” Trent threatens

“Try me bitch” Duncan challenges“

Oh my god, break it up you two.” Heather sighs

“You stay out of this you black haired dog eater” Duncan sneers

“AIGHT BITCH YOU WANNA GO?!” Heather says threatening Duncan as Lindsay holds her back.

“Ha, you’re so easy to get a reaction out of” He laughs

“Ugh! I really wish someone would knock you down a peg you brat!” Heather shouts

“Duncan I really think you should back off” Gwen suggests

“Aw come on you know you love it baby”“Ew...” Gwen says backing off.

“Y’all gonna head over to the Cabins, or Am I gonna have to drag your clown asses over there?” Leshawna asks

“Tch, fine” Duncan reluctantly lets up

(Nobody messes with Leshawna)

The campers settles their conflict and head out to the old cabins in the wood. 6 of them have spirals painted on them.

“This challenge is a 1 on 1 hypnosis challenge, each of one of the former screaming gophers will compete with one of the former Killer Bass to hypnotize each other in one hour. Whoever succeeds will be allowed to do whatever they want with the other, whoever does the most embarrassing thing to the other when the timer is up wins, the judge will as always be me.” Chris explains

“As stupid as this challenge is, there is a slight problem Chris” Duncan calls out

“And that is?” Chris asks

“Hypnosis ain’t real you fucking moron.” He shouts

“Yes it is!” Izzy shouts “Ive seen plenty of government facilities use Hypnosis on Politicians to get them favorably on one side of the Spectrum or on enemy soldier to reveal critical information! But I’m completely resistant to it cause I was born colorblind!” Izzy rants

“And we’re supposed to believe the crazy lady why?” Duncan asks

Izzy growls

“Anyways here are your teams”

“Leshawna and Eva, you’ll go to the first cabin”

“Ha good luck, I have an Iron Will” Eva notes

“Team 2 will be Heather and Bridgette”

“Yeah no, I’m not letting this bitch control me. You’re going down Heather” Bridgette threatens

“Team 3 is Lindsay and Izzy”

“This will go down well...” Duncan mutters sarcastically

“Team 4 is Geoff and Gwen”

“Aight little lady! We got this!” Geoff cheers

“I don’t think you understand this challenge” Gwen says

“Team 5 is Owen and DJ”

“Oh fuck no” Trent and Duncan say simultaneously

“And Team 6 will be Duncan and Trent! Ha ha ha” Chris laughs

“Fuck you and your idiot ass McLain” Duncan says flipping the bird at McLain before waking inside the cabin.

“I could have had it worse...” Trent suggests trying to keep it positive.

The two of them wander inside the cabin and did the room lined with various Hypnosis tools.

Duncan just sighs“God this shit it stupid... I mean look at this” He picks up a ray gun “Hypno Gun? My gif what do they think we are? 5? I’m so done with this. Let’s just wait the hour out I don’t even care if we lose”

“Whatever...” Trent sighs.

Duncan sits down on one of the coaches while Trent wanders around the room.

After a bit of searching however, Trent notices a small tape sitting in the corner of the room, he picks it up and the Tape Reads ‘Easy White Noise Hypnosis’. Trent, wanting a bit of laugh but also not caring, removes the label and replaces it with a label he had on one of his other tapes titled ‘Heavy Punk Rock Favorites’.

He then proceeds to sit next to Duncan

“Da fuck do you want?” Duncan snaps

“Well I decided since we’re going to be here a while, I thought you would like to listen to some music. I know you’re a punk rock fan, so I got some of my favorites.” He hands the tape to Duncan

“I mean you’re choice in Music probably sucks but whatever...” Duncan plugs in a pair of headphones into the tape and begins listening.

“Dude this is just white noise, what the fuck is this?” Duncan asks clearly confused

“It’s a start up noise, it’ll probably take a couple minutes to start up” Trent lied

Duncan relents and continues to sit there. After a few minutes, his expression begins to go slack and he sits there looking confused.

“Dude... This shit is making my head feel... funny...” Duncan slurs. He goes to take off the headphones.

“Up bup bup bup” Trent places his hands on his and keeps the headphones “Just keep going”

“But... I...”

“Ssshhh” Trent shush him. Duncan giggles a little before continuing on.

After a couple more minutes, Duncan is gone full slack. His eyes are crossed and drool is slowly dripping down the side of his mouth. Trent waves his hand in front of Duncan, he doesn’t even react. He just sits there.

Holy shit did it actually work? Trent thinks. He decides to test his theory.

“Duncan can you hear me?” Trent asks

“Yeah...” Duncan mumbles

“Are you willing to obey my commands?” He asks

“Sure” Duncan slurs

“Stand in front of me...” He orders

Duncan stands up and walks in front of Trent.

No way... Trent thinks This can’t be real. I guess the only way to know is if I make him do something so embarrassing that if he’s pranking me he’ll have to let up...

“Alright Duncan listen to me. When I snap my fingers, you will become a Sexy Gay stripper who’s here to strip for me. You love showing your bare ass for people and you’re super horny. Ok?”

Duncan just drools

Theres no way... Trent thinks

Trent snaps his fingers and Duncan wakes up and stares directly at Trent. He then placed Hands on either side of Trent

Yup he’s definitely going to kill me

“Why Hello there Sexy” Duncan purrs

OH MY GOD Trents Mind Screams

Duncan stands up and admired Trent “Damn when they sent me for this job, I didn’t expect my client to be so sexy.” He says seductively

“Thank you...” Trent says trying to hold in his laughter

“Anyways let’s get on with the show shall we?” Duncan says pulling off his shirt slowly.

Trent just stares in awe as Duncan slowly pulls off his clothes. First he tosses off his shirt and lets Trent feel his pecs. Then he pulls off his pants and gives Trent a lap dance. Finally when Trent thought it was going to end, Duncan leaned in by his ear“

Since you’re such a special client case, I’ll give you a bonus show.” He whispers seductively.

Duncan stands up and pulls off his underwear, bearing his ass for Trent to see. He throws the underwear off to the side and exposes himself directly in front of Trent.

“Like what you see?” Duncan says winking

Trent could feel himself getting hard.

Wait what?

Trent looked down to see himself indeed having a hard on at the site of Duncan

What the? I’m straight! What the heck is going on?

Duncan leans in quietly and sets himself on Trents lap“What do you say me and you find the bedroom, and take care of that little problem of yours” Duncan says pulling at the edge of Trents pants

“Alright that’s enough! Sleep!” Trent calls out

Duncan immediately falls limp, his body crashing into Trents chest. Trent realized how Tiny Duncan was especially without the clothes and laughed to himself a little.

Hmm what should I do with you now? Trent thinks.

He looks down at Duncan’s muscular form. And immediately comes up with a devilish plan.

“Alright Duncan… You can still hear me correct?” He asks

“Ye…” Duncan slurs.

“Alright, when I wake you up, you will think you are a professional wrestler. And I am your opponent. You will try and punch and dent but will not have enough strength to do so. Meanwhile when I even slightly tap you, you will feel excruciating pain. And the only way You can make it stop is by me surrendering. Understood?” Trent explains.

Duncan moans.

“Ok… Then go…” Trent snaps his fingers.

Duncan sits up instantly and stares directly at Trent. He smiles and growls.

“Look at you. Little Princess. You think you can beat me?” Duncan sneers.

Trent stands up. “Psh, you’re all talk…” He laughs.

“Oh yeah. Then let’s see how you like this?” Duncan aims a punch directly for Trents face, but when he touches his face, it’s no more than a slight touch. Duncan backs up.

“You’re sturdy…” He mutters.

“Wanna try that again?” He asks

“Grr TAKE THIS!!!” Duncan runs up to him and grabs him around the arms. He attempts to lift Trent up, but fails miserably.

Trent just laughs and flicks Duncan’s nose. Duncan backs up and covers his nose in pain.

“Dude what the fuck?! How did you do that?” He says rubbing his nose.

“Just luck I guess.” Trent slaps Duncan’s back and he collapses to the ground writing in pain.

“OK DUDE I SURRENDER!! PLEASE JUST STOP!!!” Duncan screams.

Trent pulls Duncan’s legs over his shoulders and Duncan writhes in pain.

“Say it!” Trent snaps

“Say what?” Duncan whimpers.

“Say you’re a princess…” He tugs on his leg.

Duncan winces hard. “GAAAH! Fine! I’m a Princess! I’m a pretty little bitch princess.”

“Why couldn’t Mario find you?”

“I was in another castle! Obviously!”

“And what we’re you doing there?”

“Probably getting fucked by You.” He laughs.

Trent stands there silent for a moment as he drops Duncan lies on the ground writhing.

“I surrender.” He mumbles.

Duncan’s pain vanishes and he quietly gets up and turns to Trent.

“You ok dude?” He asks

“Why did you say I was getting fucked by you? Why the fuck would you say that?” He growls.

“Dude, I just think your hot. I’m not tryna make you mad. If anything, I think you’d make a great top!” Duncan laughs.

Trent just sighs. “Sleep…”

Duncan falls forward and collapses into Trents arms. Trent quietly sits him on the floor and sits next to him thinking.

Did he really mean that? Trent thinks

He looks over at Duncan, who’s drooling on the floor and looking spaces out. Trent quietly contemplates for a moment before realizing his final trick. The thing he would do for Chris’s competition.

“Alright Duncan, can you hear me?” Trent asks.

“Mm…” Duncan quietly mumbles.

“Great then here’s what we’re gonna do.”

(Time skip to the end of the competition ton)

“Aaaaaand Times Up!” Chris blows his air horn. “Let’s see what we got now!”

“Duncan was right! You’re bullshitting McLain!” Gwen snaps.

“None of that stuff worked! All of the tools were fake!” Leshawna explains.

“Yeah! And I should know! I know what Hypnosis stuff looks like!” Izzy shouts.

“Really? It was supposedly real when I bought it online.” Chris says nervously.

“Yeah well I can guarantee that not a single one of us completed the challenge.” Bridgette snaps

“Actually I did!” Trent raised his hand.

Everyone turns to look at him in surprise.

“You can’t be serious…” Heather says tiredly.

“I am! And I have proof!” Trent quietly walks down the steps, a small figure crouches down behind him.

“Is that…” Gwen attempts to peak around.

Trent calls the small figure. “Come on, don’t be shy…”

The figure crawls quietly to Trents feet and reveals itself to be Duncan, but he’s different. His usual green Mohawk, now he had his air in a sort of wild style, kind of slicked back, but with a bit of a tip. But that was the least of the Changes. He was completely naked except for a pair of black ears and a large black tail stuck into his ass. And he had a collar with a bone collared name tag on it saying “Damian” attached to a leash that Trent was holding.

“No way…” Izzy says shocked.

“His name is Damian now. He’s a cutie aint he?” He says scratching Damian behind the ears. Damian pants in happiness.

“This isn’t real…” Heather says laughing.

“It is. I Hypnoed him to be a good boy. I taught him a couple tricks while I had the time.” Trent explains.

He points to in front of him and Damian walks up and “stands” on all fours in front of Trent.

“Sit…”

Damian sits like a dog looking at Trent expectantly.

“Roll over.”

Damian lies down then rolls onto his back, then rolls back onto his stomach and sits up.

“Speak!”

Damian barks.

“Wag your tail!”

Damian sticks his butt up in the air, and begins wagging his fake tail. Damian looks at Trent happily.

“Good boy!”

Trent pulls a cookie out of his pocket and dangles it in front of Damian. Damian grabs it and begins munching on the cookie. Once he’s finished, Trent pulls out a large beef bone and hands it to Damian. Damian takes it in his mouth and quietly circles around Trent before lying at his feet and viciously chewing on the bone.

“This is insane!” Owen looks in shock.

“HES SO CUTE!!!” Lindsay squeals.

“Oh how the tables have turned…” Heather smirks.

Chris looks at Trent in shock. He regains his composure and smiles at Trent. “Well then! Congratulations, Trent! You have won immunity!” Chris announces.

“And Damian, he’s my dog, after all.” Trent reaches down and scratches Damian behind the ears again. Damian whines in happiness.

“Ugh… Fine! Damian gets Immunity too… You have to change him back by the end of the week though!” Chris adds.

“Yeah yeah…” Trent waves it off.

(One week later, after Eva is eliminated)

Trent walks up to Damian, who had been quietly sleeping under Trents bunk. He ques for Damian to come out and Damian shuffles out and quietly waits for Trents command.

“Alright welp its time for you to go back to normal…”

Damian frowns and cries at Trent.

“I know I know… But Chris said it’s the requirement…” Trent says petting Damian.

Reluctantly, Damian sits back in normal position.

“Goodbye for now Damian…”

Damian barks one more time and nuzzles into Trents hand.

“And sleep…”

Duncan’s eyes roll over and he returns to sleep mode.

“Alright Duncan, I want you to take all the memories of you as Damian and tuck them safely away. It’ll be there, but you can’t open it unless I ask you to. Ok?” Trent explains.

Duncan mumbles what sounded like a yes.

“And other than that, when I snap my fingers, you will wake up as your Normal self, with all the memories of what you did. Ok?” Trent asks

Duncan nods.

“Ok, and go.” Trent snaps his fingers.

Duncan’s eyes snap back to reality and he looks at Trent in disgust.

“The fuck is up with-“ He stops as his memories come in “OH FUCK YOU!!!” Duncan gets up and lightly shoved Trent. Trent laughs.

“Yup! I got you!” Trent says.

“Oh god! How the fuck did That work?” Duncan asks

“Honestly? I just kinda got lucky! But I wasn’t wasting a golden opportune moment like this!” Trent laughs.

“Tch, whatever.” Duncan crosses his arms. But shockingly his expression softens.

“Hey… about that Damian thing…” He mumbles.

“What about it?” I ask strangely.

“Do you think you could do it again sometime…” He asks quietly.

Trent looks at him surprised “You’re not serious?!” Trent says shocked.

“Yes I am. I kinda like being Damian. I know I act like a bad boy all the time but, to be Damian would be like having just… a lay off of that I guess…” Duncan mumbles.

Trent seems to think for a moment, before nodding and reaching his hand out towards Duncan. “Deal!”

Duncan grasps his hand and shakes it. “Thanks.”

Duncan begins quietly walking out when Trent stops him.

“Aren’t you gonna put on clothes?” Trent laughs.

Duncan looks back at him and smirks.

“Dogs don’t wear clothes”

(END)

#gay hypnosis #what is this #somebody kill me please

[eleven-times-lively]

Girls in One Room

I saw your post and your local thot has come to the rescue :) ooh can you write a fic where it’s Hermione and the reader staying the summer at the burrow and Mrs Weasley is like girls in one room boys in the other no funny business and they just crack up because they’re secretly dating? I just came up with that on the fly idk if it makes sense 🤷‍♀️ @birdie-writes

Summary: You’re dating Hermione, and thanks to Mrs. Weasley’s rules, you get to spend the night together. Word Count: 1520 Note: This is Hermione x fem!reader! Feedback is appreciated! Also this is the last fic for July!

Hermione gave you a quick kiss before you walked up the path to the burrow. It was summertime and Ron had invited you, Hermione, and Harry to stay for the season. You lightly rapped on the door, and were greeted by a bubbly Mrs. Weasley.

“Girls!”, she welcomed you inside. “I wasn’t expecting the two of you to come here together,” she smiled at the two of you, sending your bags upstairs with a flick of her wand. “The boys are in the backyard, dears.”

You and Hermione thanked her, heading through the house and out to the backyard of the burrow. The sun shone bright over the vast field, causing you to squint as you stepped out of the threshold. “Harry! Ron!” you called into the vast expanse. Not moments later came rustling from the tree line as the two boys soon emerged. You and Hermione giggled as you were embraced in bone-crushing hugs. “Hi,” you laughed out, embracing Ron.

“It’s been too long,” he exclaimed, smiling.

“It’s been three days, Ronald,” Hermione jokingly rolled her eyes. The four of you sat in a small circle in the grass, beginning to chat and catch up.

“So, ladies,” Ron began, “How have you two… been?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to not seem obvious.

“Ronald we’re gay, not diseased.”

You snickered, wrapping an arm around your girlfriend. You gave her a peck on the forehead. “We’ve been great, thanks Ron. Hermione’s parents are really nice.” She gave you a warm smile as she returned the kiss.

“Well that’s nice,” Harry replied, “I’ve had to dodge stray bludgers and wayward pranks for three days.” He rolled his eyes.

“As if you don’t do that every day!” Ron retorted. “You knew what you signed up for!” You all laughed, feeling like you’d never left Hogwarts. 

***

The hours passed by as the four of you reminisced about the past year, and looked forward to the forthcoming school year. 

“The sun’s setting,” you remarked, yawning and leaning into Hermione’s side. She cooed softly in your ear in content. 

“Shall we take this inside?”, she remarked. Everyone nodded and the four of you made way inside. “Remember,: she said, directed at Ron, “Your mum doesn’t know about y/n and I.”

“I don’t get why,” he said lazily, “You know she wouldn’t care.”

“We know,” you replied, climbing the back steps, “But then we couldn’t share a bedroom.” You winked at Ron as you slinked inside, leaving him standing there mouth agape.

“There you all are!” Mrs. Weasley remarked when the four of you stepped inside. “Having fun?”

“Yes, mum,” Ron sighed as the four of you crept past into the living room. You were met with the rest of the Weasley clan.

“Well there they are,” Fred quipped. “Ladies,” he winked at you and Hermione, earning an eye roll from you. 

The four of you sat down in front of the hearth, enjoying spending time with the Weasley’s.

“So, y/n,” George began, “How’s summertime been? You were with Hermione, yeah?”

“Yes, George,” you replied, slightly annoyed, “It’s been fine,” you softened, “thank you.” Hermione smiled, reaching for your hand behind her back. She gave it a gentle squeeze, smiling at you reassuringly. 

Another short time passed as the four of you were asked various questions about your plans for the coming summer months.

Mrs. Weasley yawned, looking at the clock. “Heavens!” she remarked, “You kids had an eventful day, and it’s getting late. How about you head upstairs to bed?” The four of you began the climb up the steps as she shouted from behind, “Girls in one room, boys in another!” She paused for a moment, and quickly climbed the stairs to meet you in the middle. “Y/n and Hermione, with Bill here for the summer I’m afraid his and Charlie’s room is taken. The guest room only has one bed, I’m terribly sorry.”

“Oh that’s quite alright Mrs. Weasley,” you smiled at the kind woman, “We don’t mind.” She nodded, sending you on your way. You and Hermione snickered, running the rest of the way up the stairs to avoid the nagging of the boys. “Oh like you’d have a girl to shag in bed anyway,” you quipped to a disheveled Harry.

“Gross! I don’t want to hear about anyone shagging!” He yelped and ran down the hallway to Ron’s room. 

You and Hermione walked hand in hand to the spare bedroom, embracing once inside. Your hands came up to cup her face as you deepened the kiss. The two of you finally separated, staring into each other’s eyes for a moment. “Love you,” you whispered.

“Love you, too.”

The two of you unpacked all of your things into the drawers and closet, getting settled in for the season. Hermione sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, smiling at you. “Hi,” you whispered, flashing a goofy smile as you sat next to her.

She laughed lightly, pulling you into her side. “An entire summer together, y/n. How did I get so lucky?’

You hummed in response. “Even if we have to share a bed,” you sighed in mock dismay. You leaned up to kiss her. She reciprocated, grabbing your waist and turning you onto the bed. She hovered above you as she deepened the kiss. You hummed in appreciation, relaxing to her touch. “Hermione,” you muffled under her kisses.

“Hmm,” she responded, leaning down to leave a mark on your collar bone.

“Maybe not tonight, love. Perhaps any time other than our first night here?”

She giggled, hopping off of you. “Fair enough.” She nuzzled into your side, resting her head on your chest. “This will be a fun summer,” she whispered, cuddling in closer.

“Agreed,” you muttered, wrapping an arm around her. The two of you slowly drifted off to sleep, embracing each other and what was to come.

***

You woke up after Hermione, who was already out of bed. She was seated at the vanity, brushing her hair when she turned and saw you.

“Morning, love,” she smiled, resuming her brushing. 

“Morning,” you groaned, turning over and getting tangled in the blankets. After nearly falling out of bed you carefully padded over to her, crouching down and resting your head on her shoulder. “Love you,” you said, leaning up to kiss her.

She pulled away, fighting a smell. “I love you too, but you smell.”

“That’s fair, dear.” You looked in the mirror, giggling at your appearance compared to hers. She was already dressed and put together, meanwhile you had sleep-matted hair and morning breath. 

After freshening up for the day, you showed off your outfit to Hermione. You twirled, allowing her to admire you and your sundress.

“Beautiful, as always.” She smiled, standing up and walking over to you. She wrapped her arms around your waist, giving you a quick kiss. “It’s quite late, shall we head downstairs?”

“We shall,” you replied, giving her another kiss before leading her down the steps.

You were met with the loud bunch of Weasleys crowded around the breakfast table.

“There you girls are!” Mrs. Weasley smiled at the two of you, beckoning you over and passing two full plates down. 

After breakfast you and your three friends ventured outside of the house. Mrs. Weasley had allowed the four of you out to explore Diagon Alley for the day. Once apparating to the center of the town, you and Hermione linked hands.

“So, boys,” you began as you were all walking, “How did you both sleep last night?”

“Oh, great,” Harry said, sarcasm poking through his tone. “Ron’s snoring was absolutely lovely.”

“Hey!” Ron interjected, “I do not snore! If anything, it’s you that snores. But I’m nice enough that I put up with it, and I don’t mention it to everyone.”

“Sure, Ron,” Harry chuckled. “How about you ladies,” Harry asked, “with your one bed?” He added in a wink for good measure.

“Quite pleasant, actually,” Hermione replied, giving Harry a polite smile.

“Bet they snogged till sunrise,” Ron whispered to Harry.

“Actually, Ronald,” you piped up, surprising him as he hadn’t realised you’d heard his remark. “We started with light kisses, which my wonderful girlfriend quickly turned into a full makeout session.”

“Absolutely,” Hermione replied, “And then in bed we-” She was cut off with the boys pretending to gag and run away. Laughing, the two of you shared a kiss and continued walking.

“You know,” you began, “I wasn’t expecting taunting the boys with our relationship to be part of our summer plans, but it certainly is fun.”

“Indeed,” she replied, giving you another kiss as she led you into the flower shop.

Inside you handed her a fresh daisy. “A flower for my flower,” you winked, absolutely knowing how cliche you sounded. She just chuckled and rolled her eyes, failing to hide the blush on her face. “Shall we go find the boys?”, you asked, paying and leading her out of the shop.

“We shall,” she replied, smiling as the two of you walked into the bright summer sunlight.

#hermione granger #hermione x reader #hermione fanfiction #hermione x fem #hermione granger fluff #hermione granger fanfic #hermione x fem!reader