#**cause alex loves people squirming**

[neetily]

ugh piss kink going wild so have some thoughts about it with an assortment of people

Sam who never listens when you tell him you need to go to the bathroom when you’re in the middle of sex, who would rather you pee on him than make him leave your warmth, he already puts a towel down what’s the harm?

Whitney who presses on your bladder, degrades you when you squirm and whine to get him to stop but he doesn’t, not until he’s thoroughly entertained

Alex (SDV) who tries, really he does!, to do it properly. Get you comfy with the idea of it but ends up fucking you in the shower and not pulling out until he pissed inside and wants to watch it pour out of you. gross isn’t it? he doesn’t really care though, he’ll clean you up later

PISS KINK. where my pissers at 🗣️!!!!!!

thank u for sending this in. sorry it took me a bit to get to it, i was dying <3

MDNI. piss warning ofc !!!

sammy the lover boy... he just doesn't care, does he? or rather, he cares about every part of you way too much!!! it's okay, if y'gotta piss, then piss he'd reassure you, heart skipping a beat at the thought of being covered in your scent. he doesn't even slow down to allow you breathing room as you try to hold it in in spite of his words, only in turn making him feel even better as your muscles clench and contract around his fat cock with swiftly dwindling promise. ughhh the way he'd pound into you harder too, kissing your bright red with embarrassment cheeks all sloppily, huffing against your ears that it's okay, s'fuckin' hot in between moans. and he means it!!! he gets off on fucking you so good that you end up pissing yourself, getting him all messy with pee, just so in love with every part of you. even your piss. cause at the end of the day, it's just another liquid to him. no different from when he eats you out all night long and swallows your slick down his parched throat. maybe that's something he can convince you to do next time, right?

whitney is just so cruel with it. a complete sadist, force feeding you copious amounts of water on a hot summers day in school just knowing that you'll try to excuse yourself to the bathroom soon enough— but he doesn't let you go. grabs your wrist to tug you towards him instead of the door and makes you sit on his lap, squirmy little princess rubbing his clothed cock so well as you struggle to keep your composure in front of his taunts and teases. bet y'need to go so bad, huh? god, imagine how embarrassing it'd be if ya pissed yourself in front of so many people, right? poking and prodding at your bladder knowingly as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, pressing your lower half closer to his front, the feeling of your thighs squeezing around his lap is enough to have him gasping for air. make a mess and you're fuckin' in for it, slut. he'd warn you, but he secretly hopes that you do piss yourself— not just for his own selfish gratification, but so that he can punish you with his own stream of waste in the boys bathroom, buried balls deep in your soaking piss cunt to fill her up again.

alex just wants to try it out!! that's all. he swears. the gnawing thought of coating you in yellow, of warming you up with his stink, it won't leave him alone !! god, the thought of marking you all up in his scent especially? drives him crazy !!! and it's not that he's trying to be sneaky about it, no, never !! he's just a lil shy... a scared boy, worried about what your reaction might be to his perversion... but in the shower, you'd surely not be able to tell the difference, right? he'd get what he wants, and you'd be none the wiser. he just wants to try it out. pressing you against the shower glass, tits squished against the soapy surface as he spreads your ass cheeks open for his viewing pleasure. it's building quickly, he can feel the tight pressure in his abdomen, heavy balls slapping against you with loud smacks as he repeatedly buries himself to the hilt over and over again. and yet still he holds back, refuses to cum first— not until he's released his piss inside of you. and he's got you spread to watch it happen, the shower water trickling down his backside as he pulls out enough to leave just the tip inside of you, offering you small rocking fucks so that you don't think anything is amiss, but he can see it shoot out of him, eyes glued to where his piss gushes out of your overstuffed cunt and down his length, his balls, fuck, how it drips down your thighs? he might have just wanted to try it out, but he makes a mental note to try it again every shower time in future too.

[alexblakeisgay]

Daddy's Sweet Angel

Pairing: Alex Blake/Reader

Summary: Your father invites you out to the bar with his team and you meet Alex Blake for the first time...and are immediately enamoured.

Word Count: 1616

Author's Note: Free Space fill for @cmkinkbingo2024. Requested by @mariskalover88.

“Won’t it be weird?” you asked your dad through the open door to your en-suite bathroom where you were putting on your eye makeup.

“Why would it be weird?” he asked, a note of amusement in his voice. He leaned against the wall outside your bathroom, arms crossed over his chest while he waited with faux-impatience, a small smile of amusement playing about his lips.

You rolled your eyes in the mirror, even though he couldn’t see it. “Because most of them still think of me as a goofy-looking pre-teen with those ridiculous glasses and frizzy hair...” you said pointedly.

“So?” he countered.

You scoffed. “Dad,” you whined, but had nothing with which to back it up.

He just chuckled. “Do what you want, kiddo, but I think you should come...”

________

You couldn’t have said why you ultimately decided to show up that night; maybe it was because you hadn’t seen them in nearly a year while you’d been away at college and you couldn’t help but miss them, many of them like aunts and uncles to you.

Born to Hotch and Haley their senior year of high school, most of your formative years were – in one way or another – tied to the BAU. Derek had been your work-out buddy when you were trying to get on the high school track team. Reid had tutored you through your much-hated calculus class. You’d spent many nights babysitting Henry when Will and JJ wanted to have a date night.

True, they’d all seen you at the worst of your ‘awkward phase’, but they were like family and you missed them. So, you’d given in to your father’s cajoling and showed up...

Reid was the first to spot you as you entered the bar, waving awkwardly from across the crowd. “Hey! Y/N!”

You couldn’t help but smile and offer him a fist bump in greeting once you’d woven your way through the mass of people. “Long time, no see,” you said.

He poured you a beer from the pitcher in the centre of the table (though it was more than half head). “How’s Pepperdine?” he asked.

You shrugged. “It’s a lot of math and physics stuff for now, but anatomy is fun! We get to work with cadavers!” He pulled a face, causing you to laugh. Your attention, though, was quickly diverted by the approach of a face you didn’t recognize.

Reid, following your gaze, was quick to offer up, “That’s Alex Blake – she’s new. Well, not new, I guess, because she worked for the BAU before, but...” He trailed off with an awkward little hand wave. “I can introduce you?” he offered.

You nodded. Perhaps too eagerly...

__________

You waited until your dad was distracted, then grabbed for his phone where it sat forgotten on the table. You knew his password (of course) and were quick to find what you were after, phone returned to its place before anyone could notice your clandestine mission.

You typed out a quick text, then set your phone aside to await the response... You watched as Alex’s eyes alighted on you from where she stood near the bar, awaiting drink refills. You couldn’t quite read her expression as she seemed to vacillate between several different emotions. Then, she spent several long moments typing.

When your phone buzzed, you were quick to read the message.

“How old are you?” you’d asked.

“Old enough to be your mother,” she’d replied.

With a wicked grin, you changed the chat’s theme to Love...and then, you waited.

She caught your gaze, her expression changing to a wicked grin. She quickly typed out another message. “Oh, sweetie, this can be our little secret...”

____________

“You’re fucking soaked, Princess...” Alex husked. “Is this all for me?” She nipped her way down your throat, paused at your clavicle to suck a bruise to the surface of your skin.

You were whimpering and whining and squirming against the wall behind you, surely scratching up your bare back against the bricks. Spreading your legs, you silently begged for her attention where you wanted it the most.

Deliberately ignoring your wordless pleas, Alex continued her quest to mark you up as much as possible. “Does this turn you on? You’re a little exhibitionist slut, hmm? Knowing anyone could walk by – even your father – turns you on? At any moment, he could find out what a little whore Daddy’s Sweet Angel is...”

You gasped sharply as her fingers found your clit through the fabric of your panties. “Alex...” you whined.

She immediately stilled her hand, causing you to whimper pitifully in protest. “You can call me Dr. Blake or you’ll be silent,” she commanded.

“Fuck...” you hissed, eyes falling shut and your head falling back against the wall of the alley. There was something so incredibly arousing about the power dynamic at play and you were willing to do just about anything at all she asked of you, so long as she would continue touching you...

“What was that?” she asked, brow rising.

“Please please touch me, Dr. Blake,” you begged.

She grinned wickedly. “Oh, Princess, you have no idea what you’re in store for...” She offered two fingers to you and you were quick to obediently take them into your mouth, laving them with your tongue – desperate to please her, but also impatient to have her fingers back where you wanted them most.

When she dragged her fingers past your lips upon commanding you to stop, the light of the lone streetlamp casting a dim greasy glow into the otherwise dark alley glinted off the saliva coating her fingers.

Then, she was dragging your panties down your legs to pool around your ankles and her fingers were sliding easily into your soaked cunt, drawing a breathy moan from your throat.

“Is this what you wanted?” she asked, watching you with intensity.

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you nodded desperately. “Please...” you panted, “Please... I need more.”

She just laughed. “Needy little thing,” she purred. Her thumb found your clit, drawing sloppy circles on it causing your cunt to clench around her fingers. “Hear that?” she asked, then paused so you could hear the sound of your juices squelching with each thrust of her fingers. “You’re so fucking wet for me...”

“All for you,” you said breathlessly, “Fuck... Dr. Blake...” You could barely string two words together, but she seemed to understand all the same and sped up her thrusts.

“Are you going to cum for me, Princess?” she asked. “Cum all over my fingers like the desperate little slut you are?” You nodded, squeezed your eyes shut tight. That earned you a sharp pinch to your inner thigh. “I didn’t say you could do that,” she hissed, “You’ll watch or I stop.”

You pouted a little, but opened your eyes nonetheless, turning your attention to the movements of her hand between your legs.

She proceeded to milk two climaxes from you in quick succession, hand never stilling even as you were sobbed, begged her for mercy. “This is what you wanted,” she taunted, “You’ll take what you’re given and you’ll be fucking grateful, won’t you?”

Nodding, you clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle any further protests that might escape, wanting very much to be a good girl for her.

“That’s what I thought.”

If asked later, you couldn’t have said how long she spent torturing you – switching between leisurely slow strokes and relentless fast-paced thrusts until your thighs were trembling with the effort of keeping you upright. The hand not muffling your increasingly high-pitched keening was scraping for purchase on the brick wall behind you.

What followed was the most intense orgasm you’d ever had, the pressure building inside of you suddenly releasing with a jet of wetness from between your legs. You could scarcely remember how to breathe as your entire body spasmed, your pussy still clenching and it took several moments before you even had the brain power to process what had just happened.

You could almost hear the smirk in Alex’s voice as she purred, “Such a messy little thing...” Pulling her fingers from inside you, your cum dripping off them to stain the pavement below. She brought her fingers to her lips to taste you. “Fuck, you taste so sweet... Have a taste,” she suggested, offering her fingers to you.

Once again, you laved your tongue over her fingers, licking up every last drop of your juices in your eagerness to please her. The combination of affection and lust with which she looked at you nearly had your breath catching in your throat.

Suddenly, self-consciousness washed over you as the wave of endorphins from your climax ebbed. You had no idea what to do now, what Alex was thinking regarding your tryst... You opened your mouth to say something (though you had no idea what), but before you could get any words out, Alex leaned in and kissed you properly for the first time, stealing your breath away.

“You must be starving after that,” she said gently once she pulled away, a small smirk playing about her lips. Eyes wide in surprise, you could do nothing but nod, not sure where she was going with this... Chuckling, she held out a hand, patiently waiting for you to take it in yours.

___________

Later on, when you were falling asleep in her bed, what you would remember most about the evening wasn’t her making you cum in a dirty alley, but her making you laugh ‘til you cried as you sat on the hood of her car, parked at the top of the look-out, eating burgers and drinking milkshakes while you stared up at the night sky.

[superblysubpar]

Im in the mood to feel the summer vibes. I want some sloppy smutty summer vibes with Steve. A handy on the carnival ferris wheel, still sticky sweet from your cotton candy? A steamed up car at the drive ins, making it work cramped up in the seat? Eating popsicles from the ice cream truck as summer sweat drips down your neck and Steve gets so turned on he can't help himself? Hooking up on the DL and you find yourself teasing at a backyard picnic full of friends? Caught in a warm summer rainstorm and peeling your wet clothes off of one another goes from giggles to groans real quick?

I dunno. Have at it. Do your worst. 🤷🏼‍♀️

the song: Tenderly by Nat & Alex Wolff

The cicada’s buzz loudly, mixing with croaks of frogs, the ground is littered with popcorn and forgotten cups. The film has faded to black, lightning bugs blinking for attention instead of the stars above as Steve runs his fingers through your hair where it fans across his chest. Your cheek squished into that soft spot you always squirm around to find, soft puffs of breath leave your parted lips, your bare legs tangled with his. 

He lifts his head, the cars have all gone, the attendants have locked doors, turning lights off and pulling the rack down over the concession booth, paying no mind to the blanket on top of the hill since it’s not a car. You’re officially alone, still time left in the summer nights that seem to last longer and neither of you work tomorrow. Steve feels a little selfish for wanting to wake you, for wanting to spend as much time with you as possible - there’s always tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. 

Steve twists one lock of your hair around his finger and moves his gaze back up to the stars, trying to remember the facts and theories you told him about last week. Your eyes lit up as you explained certain constellations and stories from the past that people believed to be true. You had stopped halfway through a sentence, hands in midair, eyes sparkling. Your fingers pressed to your lips as you shook your head, “I’m sorry, I’m talking a lot, I’ll-”

“I love you.” It had been a breath, a shot in the dark and his chest felt tighter than any of the other times he had said those words. For some reason he knew it was different this time, that it was real. 

Then you smiled, crawled into his lap. Your nose brushed his as your arms fell around his shoulders as you whispered, “You love me, huh?”

He had gulped loudly, embarrassingly, hands squeezing at your waist as he leaned into you and nodded. Your fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching lightly and causing him to shiver. He sighed against your lips, pulling you closer to his chest as he hummed. Pretending to be fine that you didn’t say it back immediately, pretending like it wasn’t a big deal, pretending like he wasn’t finding it hard to breathe as he changed the subject. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, wanna tell me more about that Orion guy? What’s his deal again? Why’s he disappear for the summer?”

You giggled, warmer against his cheek than the summer air and yet he shivered again as you sighed in his arms and laughed out a quiet, “Shit.”

He blinked at you and your hands cupped his jaw, thumbs rubbing across his cheeks, “I love you so much Steve Harrington.”

So is it really wrong for him to want to wake you up? To want to kiss you like he had that night and maybe some more? Is it wrong to-

A cool gust of wind whips at the ends of the blanket, touseling his hair and yours. Your arm draped over his stomach squeezes, pulling yourself against his body, hand slipping under his shirt and searching for warmth. 

Your head flips, resting a new cheek against his chest as you squint at him, lips twisting and voice groggy, “Good morning.”

Steve laughs, chest rumbling beneath you and your eyes open a little more, blinking away the heavy sleep as his fingers tuck hair behind your ear. His eyes are deep green and brown, moonlight reflected in them as he rubs his palm down your back and asks, “Good sleep?”

You scoot your body over him, legs falling between his as they bend and he pulls you tight against his chest. Your head glances over your shoulder and his thumb brushes over your pout as you groan, “I missed the whole movie?”

Thumb and forefinger holding your chin and jaw as he nods, lips fighting a smile, “Afraid so, think that was a new record for you.”

You moan, apologizing into his neck and he squeezes his arms around you and shrugs beneath you, “s’okay, wasn’t very good.”

Your lips kiss his jaw, just a quick press, but enough to have him swallow harshly, to squirm beneath you as you huff, “Wow, so I missed a bad movie and the opportunity to make out during it?”

You pull away, hands folding over his chest and grinning. He smirks, hands stilling on your back. Steve sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes, repeating his words dryly, “Afraid so.”

That’s how he ended up with you straddling him in the backseat of the maroon car. The windows fogged, condensation beating down them in rivulets that match the sweat glistening on your skin. You smell like peaches and cherry, he smells like mint and leather. Some slow song lazily crackling through the speakers that’s far too cheesy as Steve looks at you like that, like you’re the brightest star in the sky.  

His fingers brush over a bruise on your neck that’s darkening, his other hand cupping your jaw and pressing his nose into your cheek. Lips are glossy and slick with each other, hair rumpled from fingers. Your hips roll, hands reaching down to lift his shirt and Steve gasps out against your skin, kissing your jaw, “Wait…”

Your hands pause and his head hits the seat behind him as he adjusts underneath you. Head ducking down so he can look into your eyes as he says, “Can we go a little slower?”

Taken aback by his words, your mouth parts, your hands falter further and you nod. 

Steve’s hands cradle your jaw as he stares into your eyes, trying to memorize them, to memorize everything about you. Rough skin of calloused thumbs graze your cheeks, his breath is warm against your lips as he tilts his head. One hand slides along your jaw, tangling in your hair gently as he inhales briefly. Eyes glancing down at your lips before they close, soft touch of his mouth against yours. 

They lock together like the easiest puzzle pieces, a simple and gentle glide. His nose squishes yours, hand caressing your jaw and the other in your hair tipping you back for him. Steve sighs into your mouth as you open for him, your stomach flipping like the first time he kissed you and like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to do it again. Your hands fall to his neck, pulling each other closer like it was a plan you discussed beforehand.   

It’s one of those movie kisses, the breath in and breath out happening together - in sync. Any thoughts being erased from your brain, the desperate need to never let each other go. It’s butterflies, it’s melting like ice cubes in lemonade on a June day. It’s sunrises and sunsets and stories that make your eyes light up. Steve breathes your name into your mouth, holding your jaw and sucking on your bottom lip as his eyelashes flutter when you say his right back. It’s all so sweet and slow, like honey and brown sugar melting together. 

But when your fingers curl in his collar and you make that little noise, hips rolling against him and he moves his hands to your back, tongue licking over yours, warm summer things turn to hot and dirty quickly. Steve doesn’t wanna let you go, quick presses of his lips as you slide together, gasping into open mouths. Suddenly it’s desperate, it’s that drop on a rollercoaster in your stomach, Steve’s lips the popsicle and a cannonball in a pool after hours in the sun. His fingers grip at your hips, gliding you over his hard length in a filthy grind as your hands scratch at his scalp. 

The breathy and sweet name on his lips is now a moan, a plea and you nod, pulling him back into a deeper kiss. Tongues swirling together, teeth nipping at lips and bodies pressing together like you want to be stuck for the rest of your lives - superglued together. A want turned into a need in your chest that begged to crack out and crawl into his. 

Your breathing grows more shallow, your whine fills his ears. He watches you glance down to where your hips meet with your lip pulled between your teeth and your brows furrowed together. Steve grips your waist tightly, watching as you push against his shoulders and fight off an orgasm from just a little kissing, just the drag of his denim against you in the right spot. Your lip pops free, mouth falling open in a gasp of his name as he feels you soaking him. Fingers frantic on his belt, you murmur into his jaw, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Wanna go faster now, please?”

And how can he say no to that? 

The cicada’s buzz louder as tender touches grow more impatient. The lightning bugs no longer steal his attention. Steve will take his time tomorrow, or maybe the next day, or the next.

He has all summer. 

[faoighiche]

Faelures | Cass & Burrow

PARTNER : @magmahearts TIMING : Current. LOCATION : Downtown. SUMMARY : Burrow is caught by an angry mob of humans. Luckily, the local superhero Magma is nearby to help. WARNINGS : None.

The humans were quick, but Burrow was quicker. Always a pace or more ahead of the stomping feet behind her. She did not have the same luck with the barrage thrown at her: one smacked firmly on her back. It clanged as it met the ground: probably metal. It left a bruise like metal. Not that she let it stop her. She still needed to outpace the swinging bat — she could hear its whooshing in the air behind her. If only her precious parasites did not yearn for the humans, then she could be done with them. But their yearning would always become her own, so she too craved the humans’ insides. It would only lead to minor discomforts; not like the humans would ever understand. Nor did she care to change it. Even if her roundworm eggs wanted carnage, she still would have been slipping them into that bakery’s bread. So many humans had already gladly accepted their intrusion with a smile on their faces. It could have been such a lovely thing… until she was spotted. They should be grateful her parasites found them worthy to be hosts! She would only offer the best for her parasites. And the best they were, the humans’ legs not tiring as they continued to chase her. 

Down and down the alley they chased. Down to a tree that would be Burrow’s sanctuary. She scrambled up the branches, finding a comfortable resting spot high amongst them. The humans scurried to the trunk, banging at the bark, causing some to fall to the ground. They had to go and injure another worthy host as well! They screamed at her to return to the ground, but she was uninterested. This was all too dramatic for her liking. “If you accept to put down your makeshift weapons, you will never see me again.” That bind was ready to be rid of both of their problems, if only the humans could be reasonable enough to take it. For the moment, they too were uninterested in giving into her demands. She considered calling to her roundworms and sending the grown ones squirming into the humans’ lungs. A tempting thought. But it would cause suspicions to become certainties. They would know of her parasites’ presence and kill them. No. She called to another: the parasitoid wasps resting nearby.

It was too soon, really, for Cass to be doing this. On some level, she knew that. Her shoulder still ached, still hadn’t healed entirely, and she still felt the warden’s presence around every corner. Like he was waiting for her, like she was one step away from his knife finding her skull instead of her shoulder this time. She was supposed to be taking it easy, still, supposed to be letting herself heal. But she was bad at that, she was learning; she was bad at sitting back and doing nothing, especially when Alex was at school and Kaden was at work and the cabin was empty. She felt so afraid, and she didn’t want to. She wanted to feel strong again, wanted to feel brave. So she turned back to the thing that had always allowed her to feel like she was a thing worth being. She dropped her glamour — a relief, since the concentration to keep it up had been harder to come by since that cold iron had slashed her flesh — and she went out.

Cass was weak. Cass had nearly died at the hands of a hunter, to a weapon she still didn’t entirely understand. Cass had laid on an autopsy table and seen ghosts on the faces of the people she’d loved. Cass had needed saving, like a damsel in distress. But Magma wasn’t like that. Magma was strong, Magma was brave, Magma was a motherfucking superhero. Cass wanted to be Magma now, wanted to be Magma most of the time, really. Magma made a difference. She liked that.

So, Magma she was. All rocky skin and glowing veins, following the sounds of trouble to the foot of a tree, where baseball bats sent bark flying. A twinge of anger stirred in her gut. Trees weren’t her domain, but she still hated to see them hurt for no reason. And, as she heard a voice calling down from the branches, she realized that trees weren’t the only thing these bats were trying to hurt. “Baseball bats?” She called out, making her presence known. “Really? What are you, Steve Harrington? Quit while you’re ahead.”

If only the humans knew the importance of a schedule, Burrow would not be in this mess. When the humans left for work, when they slept, what they focused on eating, what items they regularly used — where these things were missing is where she burrowed herself into. Of course, in hindsight the ooze would change this predictability. Humans were creatures of mimicry. When the world became disarrayed, they acted accordingly. A chaos she had thought she had accounted for, but who could really account for the uncontrollable. Oh, if only she had arrived in this human nest sooner. She could be nestled nicely in the Aos Sí of her choosing, enjoying a steaming mug of cocoa. Instead, there was a ringing in her ears. For once, she would rather have the buzzing of wings. She called to them: closer and closer.

All the clamoring distracted Burrow from the buzzing within. That burning that always clawed its way up her back when one of them was near. Yet, even without that gnawing pain, she would have known the other was an oread. No other could possess that swirling dance of magma and rock. A living light that was a fire to the moths: as dazzling as it was dangerous. A magnificent truth exposed without a lick of caution. In the middle of a human nest, no less! How deranged. While Burrow would indulge in her truth more frequently than her promise allowed, she would never think to do the same. It wished for death. It was careless. It was… useful, Burrow suddenly realized. The humans became too distracted to yell, their mouths now preoccupied with gawking.  

Only moments, of course, since these were residents of Wicked’s Rest. “Wha- what the hell are…” The quiver in the man’s voice was replaced with a growl. “Oh, fuck off! This doesn’t fucking concern you.” He gripped his bat even tighter, now that he had two targets for it. The fear and suspicions in them all was palpable. Burrow was, unfortunately, familiar with such dangerous things. “Hello. Why are you exposing yourself to the humans?” It was clearly not a common occurrence, or her searching would have been fulfilled long ago. No, this was an outlier, as it should be. Did everyone in the other’s Aos Sí act so brazenly? At least oreads were no use to her and her parasites — such an Aos Sí can be easily written off as too much of a risk.

She felt it as she approached the tree; that quiet flutter in her stomach, that familiar pull. Whoever was hidden in the branches wasn’t human, or undead, or a shifter. They were fae. They were like her. And, as it always did, the revelation filled Cass with a quiet anxiety, a sharp unease. Whoever it was was bound to dislike her, because fae usually did. They’d think her strange or reckless and want very little to do with her when all was said and done. The rejection would hurt, she knew; it always felt so much sharper coming from someone who was meant to be biologically inclined towards companionship with her, like she was failing at even the most instinctual of things. She could feel the blade of it resting against her skin, a ghost of the warden’s cold iron that had almost killed her in the form of preemptive grief. 

She pushed it away for now. Whoever was up there — another nymph, or a faun like Conor, or a spriggan — they wouldn’t like her, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that they needed help, that someone was trying to hurt them. Cass had needed saving when Rhett’s blade was against her skull, but she didn’t need saving now. She could do the saving now instead, could be useful again. She wanted that. She wanted it more than anything. To prove herself, even if only to herself.

“When somebody is trying to hurt someone, I make it my concern,” she said, letting the crackle of her voice shine through, letting it sound less and less human. People were afraid of her true form, sometimes. When she was trying to make friends, she hated it. But when she was out as a superhero? It came in handy. She glanced up to the tree, where the fae hidden in the branches seemed to be addressing her now. She tried for a smile, the expression somewhat muted by the stony nature of her skin. “Hi!” She greeted, ignoring the man with the bat for now. “I’m a superhero. This is how I make sure nobody recognizes me. I don’t usually walk around like this, but it comes in handy when I want to make sure nobody knows who I am, you know? Are you okay? Did they hurt you at all?”

Did this fae feel sympathy to the humans? The oread was comfortable not just to exposure, but to dabble in their concerns. To chase away the monsters under their beds. Or attic, in Burrow’s case. It made more sense, despite how ridiculous, than for the fae to feel sympathy for herself. When this savior turned her attention to Burrow, her limbs readied. The climax of her urgency was matched with the buzz of wings in the air. It may have been avoided if she had caught that smile. She knew the meanings for most expressions. The causes for squinted eyes or twitched antennae. But rocks and their ways of feelings were, well, a mystery. Enlightenment only came when a cheery voice erupted from the other’s mouth.

The buzzing of the wasps stopped. “Uth?” Burrow muttered. Was she the one being given aid? Gods, what was happening? It was becoming clearer that there was something wrong with the fae of Wicked’s Rest. It was so strange and terrible, to get a taste of the comradery she had only ever seen at a distance. She would savor its temporary sweetness before spitting it out once proven fruitful. Even if it already had a… weird taste. Superhero? She had heard the word through various walls, accompanied by tales of punching and bright colors. Well, the oread had the latter covered. “They will not know your disguise, but they may recognize what you are.” Parker had been very keen to avoid any bloodshed for his fellow ironmongers. A natural inclination for one's kin, but it hinted to the presence of others nearby. Others who could hear the tale of a ‘girl’ with melting stones for skin. 

Burrow looked down to the humans, who could not come to a consensus to which fae they would stare. Should they focus on their prey or the sudden predator? She did not suffer from the same conflict; her eyes stayed fixed on them, despite continuing to address the other. “Yes I am okay. Yes they have harmed me. They threw something hard at my back.” A human was quick to retort, “You were poisoning our food, you freak!” How aggravating to twist her actions. She was giving them a beautiful blessing; a chance to make their bodies useful. But of course they were incapable of understanding it. She would not bother to explain. “I was not,” was the only answer she would give.

It was a familiar warning, one that had come often from the elder nymphs in her aos si. You put us all in danger when you risk exposing what you are to the world, they used to hiss, even if they’d never seen fit to explain to her what kind of danger she was meant to be avoiding. Until Wicked’s Rest, Cass had known nothing of the existence of wardens and hunters, had been unaware that there was an entire subspecies of humanity designed specifically for killing her. Would it have stopped her from clinging to humanity as she had back in Hawai’i? She wasn’t sure. Part of her knew, deep down, that this hunger would have always existed inside of her, this quiet desire to find acceptance from her mother’s kin. 

She only shrugged at the warning now, the same way she had all those years ago on the island. There was an anxiety in her chest that hadn’t existed there before, of course — she could still feel the phantom hand around her throat, the knife slipping into her shoulder — but she pushed that away. Rhett hadn’t gone after her because he’d seen her in Magma form. Alex said he could sense her, that hunters had the ability to know when someone was the kind of thing they went after regardless of what disguise they might be wearing. “If people come after me for helping people who need it, I can deal with that,” she replied, more confident than she felt. There were worse things to be hurt for, she thought. There were worse ways to go. She’d rather be targeted because of her heroism than pulled away from safety at random by someone she’d thought trustworthy, rather bleed for others than for nothing. If people like Rhett were going to target her either way, she’d prefer it if they learned of her existence because she’d used it to do something good. 

The other fae was okay, and there was some relief at that, though Cass did feel a flare of anger at the fact that these people had thrown something at her back. She shot the nearest human a sharp glare. “She says she didn’t,” she said, firm and unyielding. “And I don’t think she’s a liar.” It was easier to trust fae than it was to trust humans, despite her fondness for the latter. Humans lied so easily, as simple as breathing. Fae found it much more difficult. The fae in the tree said she didn’t poison their food, and there didn’t seem to be any discomfort accompanying the statement, so Cass let herself believe it. Besides, it was so much easier to side with the person hiding in a tree than it was to agree with the ones standing at the foot of it with baseball bats in their hands and violent intentions in their expressions. “Even if she did do something to your food, what’s hurting her gonna do? The food would still be messed up. Just don’t eat it. Put the stupid bat down, go to the grocery store. Or stay here and try to fight, and get all embarrassed when I kick your butts. Up to you!”

How altruistic. Burrow did not understand it. Selfishness was demanded by her nature, but it was not entirely at fault. While she knew such generosity existed between other fae, how it bound their souls together, it was never tied to her. No one had shown her how to tie those knots; no one had shown her what they meant. After all, she was a monster. But, in that moment, she was just one in the crowd. The oread defended her words as if she were any other fae. Strange. For a wonderful blink, the fae’s favor was hers. “Right. I do not lie.” Such a disgusting thing. She could never understand the humans’ obsession with it. It was their second worst trait. 

Another terrible trait was their proclivity for fear, but at least that had its uses. Burrow watched the oread make her loyalties known — watched as the humans’ confidence melted away. She could understand why other fae were so addicted to community. With just that one addition, the course of Fate shifted. Puffed chests began to concave as the oread’s threat settled in the humans’ hearts. It was hard to boast when met with a match in physical might, and the oread was particularly mighty. Burrow was mighty in her own ways. She would seize their tremble in judgment. “As I said. If you accept to lower your makeshift weapons, you will never see me again.” The bind nestled innocently before them, waiting like a hookworm waited to be stepped on. The humans grumbled amongst themselves, yet between the tones of frustration she did hear the sprinklings of “fine”s. Good enough. The bind claimed them. 

A few humans began to slowly retreat, the others being pulled into that flow, and with it their weapons followed. They lowered. Then stopped. Everything stopped. The humans choked on that silence. The only show of their continued consciousness were their eyes. They darted about rapidly, never settling on anything. Unable to settle on anything. The weapons returned to their tight grips, but it did not return what was lost to them. Still, those eyes searched desperately into nothing. It was then that the silence was broken. A cacophony of wails, followed by the blind bashing of bats. “Ach, shit,” Burrow hissed.

It was better, Cass thought, to end things like this without a fight. She didn’t like hurting people. She never had. Violence was a thing to be used sparingly, only when absolutely necessary and never more than what was called for. The best heroes won as many battles with words as they did with fists, leaned on diplomacy as much as their powers. Cass had always wanted to be like that, had always wanted to be the kind of hero who hurt only those who needed hurting and never harmed anyone irreparably. Being fae helped with that; binds were useful things, able to ensure that no one went back on their promises. And she was glad that the fae up in the tree was making use of one now.

She relaxed as the humans lowered their bats, pleased with herself for the peaceful resolution even if it hadn’t been her who had orchestrated it. But then… something happened. The humans stilled, and something in their eyes seemed to change. They were looking without seeing, and Cass felt her breath catch in her throat. The fae’s words had been precise, she realized, and there had been a reason for that. The bats swung out, blind but violent. One slammed against her side, the sound reverberating as metal met stone. It hurt, in spite of the rocky surface of her skin. She stumbled back a few steps, out of reach of the bats.

Furious, she looked up into the branches. “What — What did you do? They were leaving! They were going to leave! You didn’t have to —” Another bat swung towards her, the man brandishing it drawn to her voice now that his sight was gone. She sidestepped to avoid it, ducking behind the tree with her chest heaving. Guilt ate away at her. This was her fault, wasn’t it? At least partially. She’d talked them into accepting the deal, had damned them just as much as the fae in the tree above. “Why would you do that?”

“Tha fhios agam!” I know! Burrow mirrored the oread’s frustration, for this all was a mirror to failures of the past. It was those pesky words that were her obstacle. What she truly wanted was not a lack of sight but a lack of notice. To be made a fly in the corner, free to take what she wanted. But the humans were not enticed by ‘do this and you will not notice me.’ An obvious predicament, though she had tried… and failed. Well, seeing was a type of noticing. She had hoped ambiguity would be her partner, as it often was eager to be, but found it lacking in this case. Her preference was for frankness, and it seemed her magic preferred it, too. A loss of sight was much more direct than what she desired. And what she desired was not this. Even if the humans could not see her, they were certainly noticing her then. 

A parasite did not want chaos. Chaos led to detection; detection led to poison. Burrow was not a helpless worm unknowing of the mebendazole soon to come and starve them. She was safe up in her tree, yet still, she felt the prickling of unease. Her wasps had the air join that prickling. Under the will of her essence, the buzz of small wings became the shriek of a banshee. It consumed the humans: all they knew was the buzz and all they were was the buzz. Desperate to escape total assimilation, they scattered. Aimless and graceless, but still the humans found their path away. Follow the quiet away from the buzz. Once the last human disappeared, the wasps also followed the quiet. Silent and pleased, they rested on branches, waiting to be called. 

“One day I will perfect that bind.” But that day had yet to pass. Burrow severed its knot, letting the bind break into oblivion. No use in leaving evidence that the humans could use to hunt her later. She looked down to the oread. Right. She was not alone. The corner of her lip twitched: almost a smirk and almost nothing at all. The humans would likely blame the one who was not disguised as them. It was in their nature to favor their own kin. If only she could experience the same sentiment. “Do not bother scolding me for my poor binding. I am aware. I severed the bind.” 

She couldn’t understand what the other fae was saying. The language was unfamiliar to her, but the tone wasn’t. The frustration, the uncertainty… It occurred to Cass that the results of this bind may not have been an intentional thing. She thought of Kuma, of how dangerous a bind could be when you didn’t know what you were doing with it. Anger turned to sympathy in an instant, even as she had to step behind the tree to avoid the blind blows from the terrified people still swinging. Most fae she’d met — save for Ren, who was her own anomaly — were better at this than Cass was. They’d been raised the way fae were meant to be raised, grown up around people like them. Maybe this one in the tree was more like her. Maybe there was still companionship to be found here.

Buzzing insects descended on the humans, and they scattered to avoid the sensation of being both blind and deaf. Cass was torn between her desire to go after them and make sure they were okay and her desire to stay beneath the tree and do the same for the fae within its branches. In the end, the latter won out, leaving her cemented in place. It was natural, she thought, to feel more drawn to the one who was more like her than the ones who’d just been trying to hurt her. It was an expected thing. 

She looked up into the tree, catching sight of the other girl within the branches for the first time. With the humans around, looking up for an extended period had been too dangerous to risk; that wasn’t a problem now. The girl looked about her age, which made sense. Older fae tended to find it easier to perfect binds. She admitted to having severed the bind, and Cass felt the relief swirl within her chest. “Okay. Good. That’s good.” She paused for a moment. “I wasn’t going to… scold you. I just — I thought you did it on purpose at first. And that’s — They were just scared. You know? People do stupid things when they’re scared. But I get it. The, uh… The trouble perfecting the bind. I’ve had accidents with that, too.”

Burrow knew well how often stupidity and fright were paired. While she was often safe inside obscurity, there were moments like the one that had transpired. The humans had only seen a glimpse of her nature, a glimpse of something they feared to murderous intent, and they had been sent into a frenzy. The lapse of judgment made them easier to bind. If only it didn’t come with the possible consequence of knives or poisons or bats in her face. It was why she preferred less drastics routes, but Fate did not care for her wants. So, yes, the oread’s logic was sound. It was the lack of a want for scolding she found odd. The oread had been content to do the same a moment ago, and admittedly she was justified in continuing to do so. What changed? It seemed the fae was very forgiving, or overly empathetic, or both. Strange. “Yes, I am aware. Of how the humans were scared and stupid, not of your… bind mishaps.” 

Well, if the oread was no longer in a sour mood, then the conversation could continue. There were other things Burrow would prefer to discuss. The only thing she cared to discuss with fae. She leaned forward, her dreads falling forward to caress her face. A shadow covered her features, leaving only the lights of her eyes visible. “As you can see, the humans do not like me.” The fae didn’t as well, but that wasn’t relevant. “I am in need of an Aos Sí. Do you know the location of any?” If the oread truly was the standard to whatever nest she hailed, Burrow would be sure to avoid it for her greater goal. But maybe, hopefully, the residents knew of more appropriate nests. One that wasn’t on some hunter’s radar due to the fae galavented about in their truth like the one before her. 

“Humans aren’t the only ones who do stupid things when they’re scared,” Cass replied with a small shrug, thinking of all the terrible things she’d seen people of all different species do with fear as an excuse. “Sometimes I think it’s the only thing everybody has in common, you know? You’d think it would bring everybody together, but…” It only ever served to turn them against each other. Her shoulder twinged faintly, the memory of Rhett’s hand around her throat never far from the forefront of her mind these days. The people who’d been after the fae in the tree weren’t hunters, she didn’t think; if they had been, they wouldn’t have run, wouldn’t have hesitated to attack her. But it didn’t matter much in the end. They could do just as much damage.

She looked up into the tree still, making note of every feature she could make out on the other fae. She wanted to recognize her if she saw her again. If she was struggling, maybe she needed a friend. Maybe Cass could be that. “They don’t usually like me much, either,” she admitted, even if it hurt to say. Of course, fae didn’t tend to like her much, either, but she kept that to herself. Her face fell, however, at the question of an Aos Sí. “I’m not really… in the know about that kind of thing,” she said with a shrug. “I haven’t been a part of one since I was a little kid, and it’s a really long ways away from here. I don’t know of any in town. What kind of fae are you? Are you a nymph? Maybe I can help you find one with people like you.”

“Fear does not make anyone want connection. I know that well.” If it did, Burrow would be the most beloved fae of her old nest. They would have never let her go, they would have never allowed her to go — filled with the same insatiable want as her parasites. Instead, all she had was her parasites. They would never fear her, for she was made to destroy their fears. The oread did have some sense. The fae and the humans were all connected in their fear of her parasites. She would see them all end if their bodies were not filled with such useful nutrients. Well, usually. Even that the oread lacked. Though, she could still find use in things less tangible. In words and ideas and knowledge. Accept that was lacking as well. 

Gods, another stray.  It felt as if this place was a nest of strays, too far spread to even make a proper féth fíada. Of course, Burrow knew (or perhaps more accurately, hoped) that wasn’t true. It was likely those that were of a nest never bothered to leave. It was what she would do; it was what she wanted to do if any of the fae would cooperate. But, no. Another ignorant stray — another useless conversation. 

Well, only presently, it seemed. The oread offered future usefulness to her. How altruistic. Burrow would work with that, especially if the oread was as adept at finding as she was intimidating. Many moths could fall prey to that brilliant flame. “My family are the protectors of the boneless. Na gun cnàimhan… The entomids.” It would have burned the same as any other lie if she had said she was one, too. The last she had thought, truly thought, she was an entomid was before she could properly pronounce the word. No, her role was a monster. That was what she was. But other monsters were not what she seeked. Though, other entomids were not what she seeked either — not specifically. “I would enjoy a nest of fae that are not just entomids. I simply want to find a nest.” 

“Depends on what you’re afraid of. Mutual fear can bring people together… for better or worse. Usually worse.” Mutual fear made a crowd into a mob. Being the thing that a large group of people were afraid of could end poorly. Cass had a feeling the fae in the tree knew that well, if the reaction of the humans who had been chasing her was any indication. Cass knew it, too. It was rare, the number of times she’d been chased instead of left, but it was still a substantial enough thing to bear mentioning. It wasn’t something she enjoyed. She doubted it was something anyone enjoyed.

She couldn’t see the other fae well enough to see the disappointment on her face, but she knew it must have been there all the same. This stranger was seeking community, and she’d found Cass instead. How could that ever be anything even remotely resembling enough? Cass wasn’t in a position to offer anyone any kind of belonging; she couldn’t even find it for herself.

Cass nodded along as the other spoke, making a note of it. An entomid. A little unfortunate, she thought, that this one would arrive just as Ren was leaving; the two of them could have found some belonging with one another, maybe, had things worked out differently. “I don’t know of any others in town anymore,” she admitted, a little disappointed in herself. “But I know other kinds of nymphs. Maybe one of them knows of an aos si you could join.” Teagan knew a lot about fae things, didn’t she? Cass didn’t think the nix was a part of an aos si, but maybe that was by choice. Maybe she knew of one, even if she wasn’t a member. Dr. Kavanagh likely knew none, considering how in denial she was about most things, but that might have been worth an ask, too. “What, um… criteria are you looking for? We can narrow it down.”

Fear did have humans clamoring upon themselves like mindless worms. They were a communal species, after all. A community that Burrow was not welcomed. She may be a monster too, but the humans shared no love for her. Nor did she often share their fears, but in the times she did, it did not bridge the gap between them. “Mutual fear has never connected the humans to me. That is irrelevant.” Totally and truly, for she had lost interest in the topic. It was a lost cause — a path that led to disappointment and death. The other, the one that ended in the claiming of an Aos Sí, was all she cared for. It would lead her parasites to a place where fear would never harm them again. A place this fae was so sweet to help find.

Anymore. Well, Fate smiled on Burrow again. If she had arrived in town a moment sooner, she would have been forced to play nice with the entomid — at least, for as long the oread proved useful. What a shame, though, that she could not watch as her parasites slowly took away all their precious insects. “Yes. I would like to… know what those other nymphs know about the Aos Si here.” She would not say she would like to meet, for that was a lie. She merely wanted their knowledge and nothing more. Their exchanges would not extend any longer than they were useful. “I want to find a nest of those who are connected to the creatures, the plants, the fungi, and the waters of this world. I do not want a nest of those of the shadows or the light or the cold. They may live in the nest, but I do not want one that is composed only of those types.” She would do better to continue struggling as she did now, then try to make a home with those. They attracted nothing for her precious ones to feast upon. It would be a slow and unfortunate death for them all.  

She didn’t want to argue, but she could have. Cass had spent years of her life chasing the affections of humans, trying with everything she had to make them love her. And in a lot of ways, she’d had more success with them than she had with fae. Humans — or people who used to be human, like Aria and Alex — had a habit of loving Cass better than those with shared heritage knew how to. But she understood the other nymph’s desire to find a connection with people more like the two of them. She understood that quiet yearning for an aos si to belong to, even if she’d given up finding one for herself a long time ago. She wanted to help. She really did.

She just wished she were better at it. She knew so few fae here in town, and none who belonged to a larger group of them. Especially with specifications. Finding an aos si was a feat all its own, but a specific one? One not made up of certain kinds of nymphs, but with those like the one in the tree? It would be a challenge. “I can try,” Cass agreed. “I can try to find that for you. But… I’m not sure I’ll be able to.” Fae didn’t like her, and if fae didn’t like her, they were highly unlikely to share with her something as personal as the location or details of their aos si. But if she failed… this fae wouldn’t like her, either. She wanted to try, wanted to find something, wanted to be useful. “Did you come from one? An aos si, I mean. Were you a part of one before?” Maybe that explained why she was looking for something so specific. A desire to recreate a lost home was a big motivator. 

Burrow let out a disappointed hum. The oread had seemed so eager to help, it was assumed it had been paired with the capacity to fulfill it. The oread had seemed capable of anything moments ago: strong and steady against the ire of all those humans. But the fae did not lie. They may trick and mislead, but they did not lie. The oread did not believe she was competent, so naturally, Burrow believed as well. A pity. While the fae in this nest were slower to discern her true nature, she knew her luck would be spent soon. To have a fae, a true and magnificent fae, as assistance would have been a wonderful asset. Still, any help at all was a rare commodity. Though she will not provide Burrow with her greatest want, the oread could provide hints. Things that Burrow could use to find it herself. There was power in numbers — such a power Burrow often wielded. “You will try, then. I will use whatever you provide me.” 

Burrow tensed. A finger clenched in a way that severed the bark under her grasp. An echo of an old pain rebounded against her chest, writhing inside her heart as if it had been made anew. It soon simmered into nothing, as all echoes do. Her heart returned to its normal tempo. “Yes, I come from a nest. It was a long time ago.” Nearly half her life could be split between being home and being without. In that time, she had learned her true home was many. As many homes as she could claim. She did not need that thing from the past. “It… The old nest will not do. I am in need of another nest.” One that her family could not refuse her to keep. They had known what she was, unlike the fae of Wicked’s Rest. That ignorance would be their end.  

Cass tilted her head a little at the other nymph’s wording. “I’m not making any promises or anything,” she warned. No matter how much she wanted this stranger to like her, she refused to allow herself to be bound. She’d do her best to help, but she wouldn’t promise anything more than that. She wasn’t capable of anything more than that, and she didn’t want to doom herself because of it. 

But… it was hard not to feel some sympathy for the fae in the tree. She didn’t know what had forced the other from her aos si, but it was clear that something had. It could have been hunters, could have been that her community was no longer there to return to. Or it could have been something more like Cass’s experience — a banishment that saw her desperately seeking belonging elsewhere. Cass had found hers among species unlike her. Ariadne, Alex, Metzli, Milo, Wynne, Van… not fae, but good all the same. This nymph seemed to have little interest in that, though. She was steadfast and certain of what she wanted. Maybe there was something admirable in that. “Okay. That’s all right. Forget the old one, we’ll see if we can find you something new.” She paused a moment. And then… “I’m Cass. What’s your name?”

Burrow returned the head tilt. “I am aware.” The fae never made promises to the likes of her — not without something to be gained. She did not want to make an exchange with one who could not fulfill their end. It was a deal guaranteed to end in the other’s torment. She knew many fae enjoyed that sort of play, but not her. She wanted results, not fun. “You would have already made the promise if you were interested.” Still, a shame she could not be given the promise freely. It would have hinted at a confidence that could have secured Burrow her new home. Instead, she must rely on the oread’s passing whimsy. And it would surely be passing, as the fae did not stand her for long. 

Burrow’s frown was lost to a shadow, but not in the tone of her voice. “No. I will not forget the old one. The memories remind me of what I am.” As a child fresh in the human world, weakness had plagued her mind. It had made her want to give it all away. To be rid of the memories of her parents calling her monster, but also the memories of a warm bed and constant food. She had wanted to be made anew amongst the humans. But she could not forsake her parasites. The memories reminded her why she must succeed. The world was cruel to all the parasites; they needed a sanctuary only she could provide.

“My name is Burrow.” Just as the words escaped her lips, she heard commotion in the distance. It tore her attention away from the oread, casting her face finally in the light. It stung her eyes, forcing them into a squint. But she did not need wide eyes to gather that the approaching noises were human in nature. 

There was no anger at the lack of promise, at least. Cass would accept that as a victory, albeit a small one. Fae often grew frustrated when they weren’t promised things they thought they deserved; Cass had experienced it so many times over the years. If she was being honest, she’d admit that she’d felt such frustration herself a time or two. But it wasn’t much fun being on the receiving end of it, and she was glad to avoid it now. She offered the other nymph a grin that seemed to split the surface of stone on her face. “That’s right,” she agreed. Those who were foolish enough to make promises were usually foolish enough to do so quickly, after all. 

There was a quick stab of anxiety through her chest as the other spoke again, a flash of fear. She’d said the wrong thing, hadn’t she? She always did. Say the wrong thing too many times and you’d lose any shot of friendship, she knew that. Quickly, she tried to backtrack. “No, I don’t mean — Not forget it, like, literally forget it! More like, um, who needs them, right? You’re here now, so screw them. Memories are important, but, you know, you’re probably better off without the people. Right?” Was she digging the hole deeper? It was hard to say.

It was almost a relief when the commotion sounded in the distance. At least it would save her from messing anything else up with her big mouth, right? She looked up into the tree towards the other nymph, towards Burrow. “They’re coming back,” she said quickly. “If you come down, I can get us somewhere they won’t find us. There’s an entrance to a cave nearby! We can hang out there until it’s safe.”

The bubbliness of the oread’s tone popped, and all her words became jumbled. Burrow had learned that it could mean the other was nervous. A spike of nerves she was unsure of the cause. It certainly was not the approach of the humans, based on the oread’s previous bravado. Had Burrow said something worrisome? It was a curiosity she did not care to expand upon. “I see. Ok.” There were other things on her mind, such as what to do about the mob around the corner. If she followed one of the sturdy branches she had perched upon, she would be close to a nearby building. Close enough to reach a railing. A well placed jump here and there, and she could make it up onto the roof. But, it seemed to not be necessary. 

Burrow’s gaze returned to the oread — returned to the shadow that concealed her look of caution. The only other fae to offer her such help had been Teagan, and that had been secured with a bind. Secured even further with the knowledge that Teagan, too, was a monster. This fae had neither assurances. Those shifting rocks that made her face were impossible to understand, only matched in obscurity by the oread’s intentions. Was this a trick? The oread had announced herself a hero and the fae did not lie. Cass seemed forgiving and altruistic and (dare she think it) kind. Seemed. Burrow had never known the fae to be kind. It was foolish to trust it. What she did trust was the animosity of the humans, which (truthfully) she wasn’t sure she’d fare much better against. She let out a sigh. “Do not harm me, or you will discover the might of my domain.” A promise without a bind, though she would uphold it the same. She let the warning linger in the air. “I will follow you to the cave.” 

Burrow scurried down the tree, landing silently upon the ground. An unnecessary action, for the approaching clamoring would cover any noise she made. “Lead the way.”

[kerstrel]

a character study of movie alex summers, as seen through “Unsteady” by the X Ambassadors

“Hold, hold on, hold onto me // 'Cause I'm a little unsteady”

Alex never faltered when people could see him. However, there were moments when the broken boy bled through, just a bit. It was visible in his stiffness and awkward contact with people, his reluctance to hold eye contact contrasted by his piercing and unwavering glare. It bled through when Scott came to the mansion, Alex following his brother like a shadow, and it was so painfully clear that Scott was the one grounding Alex.

“Mama, come here // Approach, appear // And Daddy, I'm alone // 'Cause this house don't feel like home”

The Summers brothers were alone, but Alex was the one shouldering the brunt of crushing responsibility. He was taken and used and beaten down so Scott wouldn’t. He knew what to do about the mutations and the energy when Scott didn’t. Alex was Scott’s rock, but the days without Scott, without his parents, without a team—those were the hardest. Solitary was safe, but it wasn’t home. The mansion was safe, but it wasn’t home. Scott was safe. Scott was home.

“If you love me, don't let go”

Alex clung. He didn’t give hugs out often (or ever) but when he did, he clung. The team saw this with Scott most—Alex’s easy arm around his brother and his affectionate noogies, and his hugs that lasted until Scott squirmed away. When Darwin died, Raven laid a comforting hand on Alex’s back, and he folded into her arms. He clung and he shook, and he didn’t let go until the rest of the group came around them. Alex, embarrassed, stayed quiet the rest of the night.

inspired by this edit

[kitsofkats89]

WIRE IN THE BLOOD X FEM OC

(MOLLY HAS GOTTEN BADLY INJURED ON A CASE AND ALEX REFUSED TO LEAVE HER SIDE)

Alex sat in the van anxiously besides Tony as they heard Mollys voice on the radio talking to the suspected killer Kevin and Paula on stand by Tony swallowed “this isn’t right.. he’s not going to stay calm forever.” He spoke glancing at Alex who ignored him “Dr Derek-!” Before she could continue her words changed to gasps and yelps as a loud movement could be heard Alex shot up yet Tony grabbed her back “not yet Alex- I know this is hard- but we have to wait!” Tony eased the woman holding her still “Doctor-! Ngh- your not as sly as you want people to think!-“. Mollys voice rang out as she chocked slightly on her words “They had what was coming!-“ The doctors voice ran out as Molly let out a small whimper of pain “why?- because they told you how much of a no good for nothing asshole of a doctor?- AH!” molly yelled out as a loud crash was heard “MOLLY!?” Alex yelled worried squirming away from Tony as Molly grunted out “shoot me then doctor. But I warn you now- I’m not going down without a fight!” Tony’s eyebrows quirked “she’s taken in my advice. I thought she wasn’t paying attention she was.. he hates patients who fight back and argue.. causes him stress and for him to get sloppy..” Tony mumbled and a shot rang out and Mollys sharp cry rang out in the van “mm- the thigh! How noble of you!” She hissed out in pain as the doctor scoffed suddenly and molly let out a sound of protest suddenly “Dear, Dear molly. So stubborn. Do you fight because this makes you feel better and relive your past experiences? Make you fight harder like when you were younger and now you have the power to actually hit and scream “no” it makes you feel better am I right? To know your finally pushing back.” The doctor snarled as molly fell quiet in disbelief “I bet if I were to rip your shirt off you’d be covered in head to two in old scars and bruises. Perhaps even self harm cuts even. I bet it kills you doesn’t it. The fact everyone around you is falling in love and your falling behind in the category.” The doctor continued as Molly suddenly let out an angry yell as she smacked the doctor away “you couldn’t possibly know anything about me!- your just an emotionless wind up doll! You do anything you ordered to! Hell you’d probably kill your self if your so called god told you too!-“ Molly screamed out in frustration “of course he would Molly..” Tony replied sighing out “your afraid why not admit it Molly? Why turn to violence so fast? Is it because everything you touch no matter how gently ends up covered in scratch marks-“ There was a sound of a struggle before another two shits rang out “EVERYONE IN NOW!” Alex barked out having enough of this waiting around Alex and Tony rushed out as the FBI kicked open the door the doctor lay on the ground bleeding from his side as he gasped “your lucky Doctor.” Alex growled before her eyes fell on Molly who clutched her shoulder blood pooling from the gun shot wound from it and her thigh Tony was already by her side quickly “GET AN AMBULANCE IN HERE NOW!!” Alex screamed out.

A soft beeping echoed through the room as Molly lay on the hospital bed her wounds stitched up as Alex sat besides her bed Tony by the other side when the door creaked open and a nurse entered causing Molly to grow silent as she stared “hello. Right just a few questions.. how long ago did the bleeding from the thigh start?” Mollys eyes immediately darted to Alex who sighed out “around.. 10:34.” The woman answered as Molly rested her hands in her lap awkwardly “right.. that’s fine.. uh sorry are you her…” The nurse trailed off awkwardly “Boss. And he’s her.. coworker.” Alex quickly spoke as Molly stayed silent the Nurse nodded as she turned “okay. Well she needs to make sure she keeps away from field work. And change the bandages ever night until the bleeding slowly down and then every two days.” The nurse continued as she write down the information Alex nodded as Molly glanced over “I’ll make sure she does that.” Alex replied stern as she crossed her arms.

[happyandticklish]

Okay but Quill beloved consider 🙏🙏 consider. Mark slowly trying to recover from his fear of all of that with Oliver and Oliver is v gentle about it and they'll be cuddling and Ollie will ask if Mark wants to try it now and he slowly gets more and more comfy with it again

For reference this is from when I wrote the Fucked Up TK Ideas post and I am sorry I am just now getting to this, but I fucking love this idea

Cause just imagine Oliver trying it one day because he's a shithead and doesn't realize Mark has a thing with it. And Mark starts panicking and trying to move away, and insisting that no really stop. And Oliver immediatelly backs off and is confused, but he's understanding after Mark explains.

So for a moment they just leave it at that and Oliver is always sure to make sure his touch is firm around Mark so it can't possibly be mistaken for the other. Which Mark appreciates, but he can't help the jealousy he feels when Oliver will poke an Alex in the side, or tase people's ribs from behind them in person (because as people averse as he is, Oliver WOULD be that guy). So one night he hesitantly asks Oliver if he can try but at Mark's pace so he can feel like he has some semblance of control over it.

And Oliver agrees after a lot of convincing because the last time freaked him out and he can't help but worry that he's going to accidentally upset Mark like that again. But Mark just assures him that it's okay and let's him try on his hands and arms at first. Just soft, gentle traces that make Mark twitch and squirm a little but nothing he can't handle.

[icebluecyanide]

Another one from me: 3, 11, 12 and 29 please

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

I think I'll go for Forged in Fire, which didn't have too much going on plotwise, but I loved putting in all the parallels to Eagle Strike and backstory details. And Alex getting a chance to save Yassen's life, of course.

11. What work took you the longest to write?

Definitely A Well-Earned Respite, since it was actually the first ever Alex Rider fic I started writing, a good 8 months before finally finishing it in time for FebuWhump.

In terms of actual hours spent on a fic, perhaps A Binding Promise, since it certainly feels like that one took forever haha.

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

Oh gosh, so many. Without giving any details, I've got about twenty ideas that I started writing. I need to create a new list so I even remember half of them, whoops.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

From A Well-Earned Respite, I really liked these opening lines, which I think establish the scene really well:

The boy on the floor of the cell had turned fifteen two hours ago, but this meant little to any of the people in the room. The hour of midnight had come and gone, with only a new entry in Dr Three’s meticulous notes to reflect it.

Alex, newly fifteen and half out of his mind from pain and fear and sleep deprivation, was likely not even aware of what day it was. The conditions in the cells had been deliberately designed to cause subjects to lose all sense of time. And even if he had been aware, it would have made little difference to him at that moment. The fact that it was his birthday would earn him no reprieve.

But my favourite part is probably the final scene from even if it hurts, especially these lines:

Yassen closes his eyes and suppresses a shiver at the cool skin pressed against him. It feels wrong on a deep, instinctual level, for Alex to be this cold. It reminds Yassen too much of death. It’s only the feeling of Alex’s heart beating in his chest where it’s pressed against Yassen’s that reassures him. The heartbeat is slow and a little irregular, but undeniably there. 

At his neck, Alex breathes a quiet sigh of relief at the warmth, and it tickles his skin. This is a uniquely intimate position for them to be in, likely for Alex as well. Yassen has never been this close to a person before, not even with Hunter. 

He’s vividly aware of Alex pressed against him, the way he squirms sometimes like he’s trying to get even closer. Like he wants to burrow under Yassen’s skin and find his way to his heart. 

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Hiii I love your work so much it’s so good

Character: Daryl

Prompts:

It would be better if you stayed away from me.

If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?

I hate the way that I don’t hate you and I so desperately want to

Scenario: Ex partner 

Man I love this combination of prompts! This one's angst is way more like undertone rather than heartbreak, but there's definitely a sense of like bittersweet angst, ya feel me? This is just where my mind went.

It must be difficult for him to watch the other men of Alexandria interact with me, briefly touching my shoulder, giving me eyes that only he had for me for so long.

It's painful that we've been apart from each other for so long but it was for the best, needing to not rely so much on each other if we were to stay alive. We realized that it would be best if the friendship was still there but not so much the dependence and anxiety.

But even though we're not together anymore, I still hold the same dependence and anxiety in my mind and heart towards him. I worry daily that he'll find someone new, someone that'll suit him better and make him feel secure, not so worried.

It would be selfish of the both of us to want each other to just stay alone if we're not meant to be together but there's definitely a mutual feeling of still belonging to each other even though it's not wise to be involved in the ways we used to.

He's always said it complicates things.

But jealousy is possibly the most complicated emotion to have and, based on the daggers that Daryl has been sending in Spencer's direction from across the room, I can tell it's been eating him up inside, so much that he's squirming in his shoes.

So it wasn't a complete shock when he slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me outside to sit against the front railing, just looking at me in the dim light coming from the moon. I don't ask him what's wrong, I know what's wrong, but I can tell there's something on his mind as he bites anxiously at the inside of his cheek.

"Why don't you look at me anymore?" He asks hesitantly, a hint of sadness to his voice as I blow out a breath, debating on telling him the truth or to beat around the bush like we normally do.

"I hate the way that I don’t hate you and I so desperately want to." I confess, my gaze dipping to the floor as he moves shamelessly closer to me, his fingers barely brushing mine on the railing.

"Would it be easier for you to?" He asks and my brows furrow and I give him a brief confused shake of my head. "To hate me?"

"Yeah." I respond almost immediately with a small, sad laugh, catching his glance for a moment as the silence and the crickets consume us. I bite at my lip as my heart pounds against my chest, the words on the tip of my tongue so desperately wanting to slip out without my permission. "If I ask you to kiss me, to be with me, in front of all these people, will you do it?" He looks taken back at first, a small, shy smile spreading across his lips as he turns to look back at the booming group through the window.

"This ain't real, sweetheart." He whispers, the name making my stomach swirl in anxious, giddy butterflies. "They're blind to all the shit going on out there. It's not a good idea." He sighs, almost looking as if the words cause him genuine pain and my heart cracks as he takes a step away from me, the distance making my stomach drop.

"Then maybe it would be better if you stayed away from me." I whisper, feeling rejected once again and he shakes his head with soft, sorry eyes.

"Can't. You know that."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy

@steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht @savageneversaw

[angrelysimpping]

LI’s with a fae reader

They can turn into animals and hide in the forest 🥺

It’s just so wholesome but you can only come with them if you give them your name

Alex

At first, Alex thinks you're one of Remy's people, peeking out at them from behind trees, gone before they can even call out to you.

It's only after they realize you've chased off a good few of Remy's goons yourself that they relax, somewhat.

Their parents told them stories about creatures like you, soft voices talking long into warm summer nights over drinks.

Yet, you seem nicer than all those stories made out.

Still, they take to wearing an old, worn iron ring, smoothed by both the passage of time and the worrying fingers of others. Their mother gave it to them before they left, "just in case."

It's only after they corner you one night and make you promise that you aren't trying to cause trouble that they relax.

Offers you a room in their cottage, if you feel you need it. Makes it clear they expect nothing in return.

It's only after they've had a few drinks that Alex plucks up the nerve to kiss you. Slips their ring off and let's fall to the meadow ground, pressed into the soft soil underfoot as they guide you onto your back.

A little soothed by the idea that you could turn into an animal to escape Remy, but also put on edge by the thought that Remy could use that against you.

The first night you spend curled around the farmhand in bed is the night you whisper your true name into their ear.

Avery

There's something otherworldly about you, a beauty that is hard to describe unless you've seen it firsthand.

That's why Avery adores having you on their arm. Not a single person can look away as the two of you all but glide across the dance floor.

You're right to be wary of giving the businessperson your true name, but that doesn't stop you from giving it to them the moment they ask for it.

Such intense fascination with a human can't be healthy for a being such as yourself, yet you never hesitate to meet them, hanging off their every word.

Avery isn't as likely to ever see any of your animal forms, but they're curious about them.

Wants to know everything you can do, all your abilities and limitations. It doesn't escape your notice how Avery starts to carry iron on them, but it's in your best interest not to mention it.

Eden

Eden knows.

They know what lurks in the forest.

At first, they're not 100% sure of what you are. A wolf person? A plant person? It doesn’t matter, really. You've caught the hunter's eye. They want you. They will have you.

Of course, figuring out you're one of the fae makes things tricky. You could turn into an animal and run off, there could be nasty repercussions for taking you as a spouse.

Just makes it even better when Eden gets you squirming under them.

Maybe you chose this. Maybe you let the hunter catch you. Put on a show of slipping away each time before Eden pined you down. Screams performative, edged with delight.

Maybe you didn't. Maybe you truly fought. Went cold when you found the collar forced on you was connected to an iron chain. Begged and cursed in earnest as the hunter took you home.

It doesn't matter in the end, not really. It just matters that Eden got you, that finally grew attached to them.

And you do.

It's hard not to. Not when they keep whispering in your ear how they need you, how they want you, how you can't leave them.

Humans lie, but the hunter says them with such sincerity.

You're in the bath with them, water still warm as Eden washes your back. It's a surprise when you turn in their arms and press yourself against their chest. If this was earlier in your relationship, they'd push you away, unsure of your motives.

Not now, though.

Their face burns as you place a hand on one of their scarred, muscular shoulders.

Bringing your mouth to their ear, you tell them your true name in a voice barely heard over their own heartbeat.

Kylar

You're so hard to follow, sometimes.

Kylar loves following you around, even if they can't get close to you.

Not that they don't try. Every time they think they'll round the corner to see you, they're met with an animal instead. A stray alley cat darting away, a squirrel suspiciously far from the forest scampering up a wall, a startled bird taking flight.

It's only after they catch you shifting into an animal that Kylar realizes you were the animal each and every time.

Why would you do that? Hide from them? You must not have realized it was Kylar following you! Yeah, that's it. And you were too shy, too embarrassed about the mistake to turn back once you realized.

Who else is following you? Kylar will fix that for you.

It's once you start dating Kylar that they fully start to understand what you are.

And Kylar is enthralled.

They always knew you were perfect, this is just further proof in their eyes.

Going to give you their name. They want you to own them, so why would they ever hesitate? And when you give them your name in return? They almost stop functioning.

You belong to each other!!

You might as well be married, right?

Robin

Robin has always known. You live together in the orphanage, after all.

They don't know why you stay in the orphanage when there are rumors of other fae in the woods, and they won't question you about it either.

Well, the higher their confidence, they might ask a few questions, but they won't pressure you to answer.

Not too much, anyway.

They know the rules you're bound to, can tell when you're wording something carefully as a way of getting out of telling the something. At higher confidence, they'll pointedly ask you yes/no questions.

Loves smaller animal forms, keeping you close and safe.

Almost stops breathing the first time you ask to spend the night in their bed, pressing kisses to their neck before telling them your true name, telling them how they can use it to call you to them at any time.

Sydney

Sydney's heard stories, but they've never taken them seriously.

Fae, werewolves, and vampires are all just things of myth.

Angels and demons, they give more credence.

Yet, here you are, staring at Sydney with wide eyes after they walk in on you shifting from an animal into a human shape.

That...that can't be okay with the temple's doctrine. But, you beg Sydney not to turn them in.

You've been such a good friend to them, they promise not to tell anyone.

You keep showing up to the temple with them, despite how you aren't human.

They're quite curious about what types of animals you can turn into you, and might ask you to turn into one for them when they're more corrupt.

It's when you have Sydney under you, either after the promise ceremony or in the prayer room, that you give them your true name. It takes them a moment to understand the significance of it, but, the moment they do, they're pressing their mouth to yours in a frenzied kiss.

Whitney

You shouldn't really like Whitney.

They're an asshole. They're always pushing you around, trying to force you to your knees.

Terrible, horrible.

Yet, you keep trailing after them.

And Whitney fucking loves it.

All they know is you're a pretty thing that lets them do whatever they want. It's only when they spot you turning into an animal to slip out of the grasp of one of their friends that they realize you aren't 100% human.

And they start demanding answers.

The fuck are you? What can you do? What hurts you? Tell them. Tell them everything. Now.

Of course, they use all that information against you.

The collar they get on you is studded with iron so you couldn't take it off even if you wanted to.

They make sure to word things in a way so you have to do what they want.

Sometimes, when it's raining and you huddle against them in the park, they press small, shiny objects they found into your hands, pretending not to notice how you light up upon seeing such trinkets.

You know it's a stupid thing to do, to give the bully a kiss on the cheek and murmur your true name in their ear. Yet, you do it.

If Whitney knows the significance of your actions, they act like they don't, continuing to smoke and hold you against them under their umbrella.

You'll probably regret it, but, at the moment, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

[loveelle]

Keep it On

Reggie Peters x Reader Smut

Request from Anon: Can I request a Reggie x reader smut, while reader is wearing Reggie’s flannel?

A/N: Reblogs help inspire me to write more because then more people see!

Warnings: smut (18+)

WC: 2.4K

MASTER

---

5 minutes was all you needed alone with Reggie which, unfortunately, was more time than you’ve had alone all week. You loved the band, but god, you would trade the three of them- Alex, Luke, and Julie- in for just 5 minutes with your boyfriend. Okay, maybe that’s not true, but that doesn’t mean you’re no longer eager for alone time with Reggie.

You were sitting on the couch in the studio, eyes scanning over your boy with his bass hugged right to his chest as the band finishes the last of their song. His hair was glistening with sweat as he pushes it out of his face, focused entirely on Julie singing in hopes he can get his playing on time. You know he does by the small smile he gives himself to celebrate and his eyes flicker up to you briefly.

The look Reggie sends you cause your heart to race as you wink at him, making his eyes widen when you follow the wink with a smirk. He knows that look you’re giving him and he knows exactly what you want, something he’s been aching for lately as well.

“I need a break.” Luke huffs as he falls into the chair next to him, his guitar slumped on top his chest before he picks his head up. “10-minutes?”

You almost cry out in joy.

“Sounds great. I’m starving!” Julie groans loudly when she puts her mic back in its stand and clutch her stomach. Luke follows after her, despite not being able to eat, he won’t leave the young girl’s side. Alex takes one look at Reggie and you who was almost squirming in anticipation before he makes the decision to follow Luke and Julie. As soon as the three of them leave the room, you pounce off the couch and into Reggie’s already awaiting arms.

“I actually thought they’d never leave.” Reggie mumbles as his hands grip the back of your shirt to bring you closer against him and his lips meet yours.

You hum into his touch, your fingers trailing lightly on his chest until they were brushing Reggie’s jaw before you pull from the kiss slightly, just enough to talk. “I was about to ask them to join us.”

You go back in, wanting more than anything to finish the kiss and other things, but Reggie’s gasp and surprised look stops you. “R-Really? I mean, r-really?”

“Me, Reggie.” You mumble, squeezing his cheeks. “Focus on me.” You giggle and Reggie’s eyes widen before he snaps them close, crinkling his face. You giggle more at the sight before kissing his nose, getting him to open his eyes. When they meet yours, paired with Reggie’s smile stretched wide, you were glad he was holding you because your knees became weak.

Reggie’s mouth dips in the kiss from your mouth to your neck, his fingers slowly but surely find the bottom of your shirt and before you could think, it was over your head and thrown somewhere in the studio. As his hands travel your now bare back, you moan softly and cup Reggie’s face so you could kiss him again, pulling the flannel off of him in the process. You smirk at the feeling of Reggie’s biceps, giving them a squeeze before you tug on his tank top and it’s over his head. You pull back, letting your eyes move down Reggie’s bare chest and Reggie looks down your bra clad one, adjusting the growing bulge in his pants and you decide to help out, reaching behind your back and undoing your bra, tossing it into the abyss along with your shirt.

Reggie’s breath hitches as his eyes fall on your chest, your nipples already hardening against the cool air in the studio. “You are…” Reggie’s voice trails off before he looks up into your eyes, “Did you know you are gorgeous? Because you absolutely are.”

You don’t know how he does it, but when he compliments you like this, you can do nothing but believe him as your cheeks flair and your heart races. “Well, come over here and remind me.”

Reggie was in front of you in a second, one hand slips behind your back while the other slowly trails up your front, cupping your left boob and rolling your nipple between his fingers. You moan into his mouth, Reggie’s tongue slipping in you kiss him hard, savoring the minutes you have with him alone. You start on the buckle of his belt, barely getting it undone before someone knocks at the door.

You pull back from a frozen Reggie with wide eyes. “Where’s my bra?” you whisper sharply to him as you look around the room, not seeing your clothes anywhere. “Where’s my shirt!?”

“Here, just take this!” Reggie’s whisper was louder as he shoves something into your hands and it takes you only a moment to realize it’s his flannel. Reggie watches you throw the piece of clothing on quickly and button it up, the view he had of your boobs slowly disappearing, but then something else strikes him quickly.

It was really hot seeing you in his flannel and knowing you had nothing on underneath.

He gulps and the thoughts disperse as the door opens and Julie steps inside, her hands covers her eyes and you stifle a laugh. “We’re decent.” You yell to Julie and she hesitates before letting her hands fall.

“Sorry, just didn’t want to walk in on anything because I forgot my water bottle.” She grabs her bottle, shaking it in the air before her eyes flicker down to Reggie’s flannel on you and realizes just how much she was interrupting. “Okay, have fun.” She rushes to the door before stopping and her eyes narrow at the two of you. “But wipe down anywhere that you um,” she trails off, her eyes widening as she implies ‘anywhere you fuck’ and you quickly stifle your laugh at her before nodding. “I don’t really know how doing it as ghosts work, but I don’t think it’s sanitary.”

Before you can say anything, Julie is out the door and Reggie’s mouth is attached to your neck again, your eyes rolling back immediately along with a moan you don’t even have time to try and hold back. “I see you’re as excited as I am.” You whisper to him, pushing your fingers through his hair and letting your nails scrape lightly against his scalp.

“Oh, you have no idea.” He mumbles and his smirk presses against your skin. You lick your lips, dragging your teeth across your bottom one.

“Believe me, I have an idea.” You reach your hand down Reggie’s chest to the front of his washed-out jeans, palming his hardened erection and causing Reggie to moan in your ear, the sound shooting right to your core. “Take your pants off, Reg.” you whisper and push away from him enough to undress yourself again, pulling the top few buttons undone on the flannel before Reggie stops you, his hands gripping your wrists as his eyes dart between your eyes and your great display of cleavage.

“Keep it on.” He mumbles and you hear him, but the surprise causes you to inhale sharply.

“W-what?”

Reggie drops your wrists, continuing to undo his pants as he talks. “K-Keep it on. I wanna-“ He pauses only briefly, cheeks starting to redden. “I wanna fuck you in my flannel.”

His confidence as he tells you what he wants makes your knees weak and you nod quickly, gulping back how turned on you were. “That sounds… I mean, yeah. We can do… That’s hot.” Reggie drops his pants to the ground, leaving himself only in his boxers as he stands in front of you. You smirk. “And that’s hotter.”

Your pants hit the floor right after and Reggie groans at your black panties peaking out from under his black and red flannel, making his cock twitch inside his boxers. You jump forward, latching lips again tongues clashing together in the kiss. “The bed?” Reggie mumbles amongst the heavy and you nod, only breaking the kiss as both of you teleport to the bed up in the loft.

You fall back on the bed, head thrown back in pleasure as Reggie’s mouth moves down your front, pressing kisses along your neck to your chest, slowly unbuttoning the flannel as it goes. “Fuck, Reg!” you moan out as Reggie takes your nipple between his teeth, cupping and squeezing your other boob in his hand.

Reggie basks in the sounds he’s pulled from your lips, from your gasps and pants to your whines and moans as he slips a hand under the band of your underwear, grazing his fingers over your lips and teasing your clit. He battles between smirking and smiling at you as he pulls the last piece of your own clothing off you, leaving you only in his flannel and he slips his own boxers off.

“How much time do we have?” Reggie asks as he strokes his hardening member, your eyes drawing to the action and a rush ending to your core.

You shake your head. “Not long enough.” You mumble and Reggie grins at you, surprising you with a peck on your lips before he was putting a condom on and slipping into you. You gasp as he fills you, his slow movements causing the gasp to turn into a low moan from the both of you. His head dips onto your shoulder and after a few seconds he starts thrusting, bucking his hips against yours at increasing speed. “God, Reggie you feel so good, oh my-“ Your mouth hangs open as Reggie pulls his head back to look at you with his crooked smile, your eyes catching a beautiful glimpse of him before they roll back gently and Reggie reach your highs within moments of each other. Reggie was mesmerized with the sight below him, your chest was heaving and springing free from the flannel when your back arches off the bed.

Your moans turn to heavy pants as Reggie softens inside you and relaxes on top of you. He pulls out with a groan from him and a breathy moan from you as you kiss his cheek and he collapses on the bed next to you, taking care of the condom into the trash.

“Do we have time for another round?” Reggie asks quickly, his eyes battling to stay focused on yours when your boobs are still teasing him with peaks from his shirts.

You giggle, rolling a button between your fingers as you shake your head. “I don’t think so, baby.” He frowns and decides to leave his eyes on your chest, something that makes you giggle harder. “Why are you-“

“Because they’re going away when the band gets back and I’m gonna miss them!” He argues with a pout but it’s enough for you to cover your mouth as you laugh. Reggie sighs dramatically and pulls the flannel open before pressing a kiss to the middle of your boobs with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.” He whispers to them and you roll your eyes.

“Should I give you three some privacy?” You joke and run a hand through his hair gently. Reggie shakes his head before buttoning the button between your boobs, covering them but also giving Reggie the sexiest look he’d ever seen. You snort. “Why did I even bother with trying to look sexy when we were alive when I could’ve just thrown on a flannel and called it a night?”

Reggie’s eyes flicker up to you. “You could breathe and it would be sexy but there’s just something about you wearing my flannel that’s just hot.” He shrugs, moving his body up to reach to reach your lips. You cup his face you kiss him, only to hear the door open and your friends. Reggie’s eyes widen. “There’s no way that was 10 minutes.” He whispers and you shake your head.

“Reggie? Y/N? Break’s over!” Luke’s voice calls out and you face palm as Reggie scrambles after you, shrugging on his boxers and you slip your panties back on before grabbing his arm. He whips his head around.

“All our clothes are downstairs!” You whisper sharply to him and Reggie glances over the railing to see Luke and Alex chilling downstairs.

“Uh, guys?” He calls out as you button the flannel. He tells them to leave and the duo grows confused before Luke slaps a hand against Alex’s chest and focuses on a small pile of what appeared to be clothes laying by the loft’s ladder. Alex looks and sighs before catching onto why Reggie and you wanted them to leave. No one needed to tell him twice as he disappears to inform Julie not to head inside, however the younger girl was far more perceptive than the ghost boys.

Luke’s face scrunches in disgust as he looks up at Reggie hiding you behind him on the loft. “Really? In the studio?” He asks exasperated as you giggle against Reggie’s back and peak over his shoulder.

“In your old bed.” You tell him with a smirk and Luke fakes a gag, disappearing right in the middle of it. You shake your head and Reggie grabs your hand before you both teleport off the loft and downstairs, separating after a quick kiss to throw your clothes back on.

Reggie watches as you shrug off his flannel and put your bra back on, throwing your shirt back on. “I need a day off from the band.” Reggie sighs out of nowhere as you glance up at him, with a small smile.

“You need a week off.” You joke to him, raising a brow and grabbing his flannel again to hand to him.

Reggie gulps, glancing between you and the clothing article. “And- and with a whole week off, what would we uh…” he stutters and you wait patiently as he tries again. “What would we do?” He rushed out and you furrow your brows in minor confusion before You realize what he was getting at, what he wanted to do all week and you smirk. “Sex?” He blurts out, clocking the teasing smirk on your face. “We’re gonna- gonna have sex all week?” You smirk deeper and shrug, watching Reggie’s cheeks darken when all your friends walk back into the studio. You say nothing as you fall on the couch behind you, Reggie’s eyes don’t leave you as he clutches the flannel in his hand. Finally, he turns to the rest of the band. “I’m gonna need the next week off.”

.

.

.

.

[sunjaesol]

and in the haze you see colours

juke | human soulmate au | title: 5 am // amber run

The first colour she ever saw was purple.

When someone was born, they got to see one colour. To each it was different and often a reflection of one's aura. Julie's aura was purple and, naturally, it was the colour she could see. Which was unfortunate, as there weren't many purple things in life - not naturally, at least.

And so, her entire bedroom was purple. Purple walls and purple sheets and purple stationary. The rest were varying shades of grey. Often times, she asked her parents why some were lighter than others, and they told her about green and blue and red. It sounded like a fairy tale. Red was warm, apparently, and blue was flexible and green was fresh. Despite their best attempts, she couldn't visualise it.

It didn't matter. Once she met her soulmate, she would see all the colours imaginable.

Befriending Flynn was easy. The girl had purple ribbons in her hair and that instantly attracted Julie. Vice versa, Julie's orange dress was a plus for Flynn. Through their deep bond, oranges slowly infused itself in her cornea. Orange, like a child's laughter.

With Carrie came pink. Pink, like the fiery moves of a dancer. It was close to purple, so it wasn't a huge shock to see a bouquet of roses suddenly come alive with colour.

In retrospect, gaining orange and pink wasn't that amazing. Not when she lost her mother while doing so. Placing pink dahlias on her grave was just another punch in the gut.

Years passed and people around her found their soulmates. In freshmen year, so many students gasped and fainted as they crossed eyes with their One. She went to parties and someone would start randomly kissing the other. She went to open mics and watched as her soprano voice accompanied two people finding love. It was as beautiful as it was tragic.

Julie was seventeen and she still hadn't found her soulmate. Statistically, most had by now. Had she not gone to The Orpheum that night, she might’ve waited even longer.

Flynn urged her to go to this new and upcoming band, Sunset Curve, as their sound was someone she’d vibe with. Julie wasn’t really feeling it, drowning in homework and song ideas, but her friend was persistent. They needed a breather from everything and a concert was the perfect remedy. After a quick Google search, she realised they were her age. Curiosity swelled in her chest, wondering how they moved up from open mics or school assemblies to the iconic stage of The Orpheum. The only thing she could note about the band was the drummer’s pink hoodie. That was it.

The venue was packed when they arrived. Boisterous chatter, antsy for the band to come on stage and fill the spaces between the instruments. Glasses chiming of sodas and beers being filled and passed around, the soft hum of pop music blaring from a speaker. Most of the crowd were kids from neighbouring schools and all dressed more alternatively. Though she didn’t see most colours, it was clear as day the band tees were vintage and the trousers were ripped or checkered or both.

She shot Flynn a look. “Are you sure this is our thing?”

“Yes!” Propelling them to the front of the stage and consequently shouldering kids in the ribs, she added: “Their biggest hit is, like, insane. And you’ve been in a funk all week, so you need some insanity. To like, counteract it. I don’t know.”

Julie withheld a pout. She’s been ‘in a funk’, because while she was at Eats & Beats grabbing a coffee, two strangers fawned at the sight of each other. RIght in front of her nose, another couple found. It normally didn’t affect her that much, but it did this time. The girl was sick of hearing about romantical love instead of experiencing it herself. Sure, she had Flynn and Carrie and her family, but…

But she wanted that. She wanted more. And with each ticking hour, it felt less and less viable. Where was the One for her?  

The lights dimmed and the pop music stopped, smoke drifting across the stage as the audience began hollering and whistling. Egging the band to get on and give a performance worth watching. The hyped-up teens pushed everyone to the front, now Julie and Flynn forced to crane their necks to watch.

The drummer came on first, all applauding for him as he took his seat and started a drum beat that quickly upped in tempo. It swept them up in an atmosphere, heads bobbing and feeling that rise in anticipation.

Then the bassist came. His dark jacket glittered in the overhead lights, the flannel peaking beneath almost hinting at orange but remaining grey. He added to the beat, bringing in a bassline that had feet bouncing and more people cheering. The mic at the front remained empty, teasing its explosion of lyrics and electricity.

Finally, at the crescendo of sound, the frontman stormed on. He was all charm and smirks and cut-offs and blazing purple shoes. That caught her off guard, eyes dropping to the ultraviolet sneakers. A shock of colour amidst the grey.

His raspy voice belted out lyrics, a grin pulling on Julie’s face at the musicality. Grabbing Flynn’s hand, they jumped around with the other people. Their music was insane. It was fast and clashing and aggressive and raw.

With her neck in its odd position, she observed the singer for a beat. He was… hot. That was all Julie could think. He was hot. His hair falling perfectly right, big eyes, the smile breaking all lines in his face like a beautiful mosaic. Humming like an undercurrent was a buzz right beneath her ribs. Snug and warm, which could’ve been the vibrations from the amps, but it felt different. A good different.

They were in their fourth song when it happened. The band was kicking and jumping around, singing about making it big and not looking down, skyrocketing to stardom, when it happened.

The lead singer dropped to his knees and let the guitar riff bleed to the front row. The audience hollered, Julie laughing in delight at the expert playing, when her and the guy’s gazes met.

He yelped, music stopping short as he careened over the edge and crashed to the floor. Simultaneously, Julie felt the air knocked out of her lungs, losing balance and falling into Flynn. Her eyes were shrivelling with heat, as if hit with the embers of a campfire. A hammer slammed down on the buzz in her chest, electrifying the feeling till it was nearly unbearable.

Her eyes shot open. And then there was colour.  

The crowd dispersed in fright. Gasps and gawks echoed to the back, curious murmurs carefully watching the guy and the girl come to their senses.

“Flynn,” she exclaimed, grabbing for her friend. “Flynn, I can-”

Except she wasn’t there, joining the rest of the crowd further back. The bassist and drummer were watching on, baffled.

Oh. Her stare drifted to the squirming boy on the floor. Oh.

Luke scrambled upright, instantly coming face to face with Front Row Girl and all the colours he has wished to see forever. His eyes were burning from shock and euphoria, greys and whites bleeding out of his bloodstream.

Her hands grasped for his face, worried, lips forming words he hardly registered but vaguely processed as ‘asking if he was okay.’

“Y-yeah, yeah,” he stuttered, his gaze racing across her features to wholly take her in.

Warm skin and wide, brown eyes and dark lashes and curled, pink lips and a pointed chin and glossy, long curls dancing against her cheeks and soft hands and red - she was wearing red. His colour. His soulmate.

He laughed. “Hi.”

She matched it, giggling. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he sighed, still in disbelief that she was his soulmate. His soulmate. His soulmate. The One.

Her trembling smile softened, thumbs swiping across his cheekbones. “You have really pretty eyes,” she whispered.

Her own were shining with unshed tears and he felt himself choking up too. Never in a million years did he think he’d meet his soulmate. To him, it had always been music. Sure, it sounded nice, but he knew he shouldn’t be yearning for it. He had his friends - his aura was red and he gained pink from Alex and yellow from Reggie.

But suddenly she was here. She was really here.

“You’re- pretty-” he stumbled, causing her to laugh again.

Yeah, there was no way he’d be able to continue the gig. The Orpheum was a big deal, but meeting your soulmate? Most monumental moment of anyone's life.

There was so much colour now. So much life. There was so much more than just music and red and pink and yellow to enjoy. (Songs swirled in his mind though, exciting him to the bone as his hands slid to grab her own. Winking all coy, like the best was yet to come.)

“Do you wanna talk?” he rushed out after.

She nodded. “Yeah. You- uh- your band-”

Their fingers intertwined, warmth dancing in his heart. “Doesn’t matter,” he chuckled. “Really does not matter right now.”

The light of a camera flash and exhilarated screams of ‘soulmates!’ ripped them from their bubble. The bassist jumped offstage and clapped Luke on the back, whispering at him to go to the alley. Leading her away, there was no sense of doubt in their steps. Luke didn’t know her name, she maybe didn’t know his. None of that mattered. There was colour now.

From the alleyway, they found themselves wandering around the Strip as they talked for ages. Her name was Julie, his was Luke, they were musicians, they were seventeen, their auras were purple and red, he decided he adored her smile the most and she his twinkling eyes.

“I think they’re green,” Julie said, peering into his eyes. She was impossibly close and it sort of took his breath away. “They’re fresh.”

“Fresh?” he grinned.

She didn’t lean back - she didn’t want to, his soul simply enigmatic - and asked him the same question. “What are mine?”

His expression softened, a smile twitching on his lips. They’re beautiful. “Brown, I think,” he said instead. “Not sure though. You wanna figure it out tomorrow?”

Her stride halted, their grasp on each other nearly yanked apart. His brows raised expectantly. It was there - that invisible, innate, sense of understanding. It wasn’t just colour. It was the refusal to look at colour alone, ever again. It was insane for the both of them, how their rushing thoughts slotted all puzzle pieces together without a hitch. It had that satisfying click-click-click sound, like dominoes.

Luke found himself coming back to her, the space between them disappearing till their arms pressed together and there were no forces tugging them together. It was all themselves.

“I have a book about colour,” Julie eventually said. “We can learn them all.”

He smirked. “I can tell you your lips are pink.”

“Yours are too.”

“Yeah?” he teased.  

But then she lifted a finger and pressed against the plump skin. His heart stopped short at the sensation. Before he gave into the instinct to pucker them and kiss it, her hand dropped.

Julie grinned. “And now they’re red.”

When Luke kissed her, hers were red too.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @unsaidjulie​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​ @pink-flame​ @constantly-singing​ @stydixa​

[secretly-tword-obsessed]

Time Is Tickling

Request from @duckymcdoorknob

Fandom: Hamilton

Prompt: Laughing in French

Hope you enjoy!

Lafayette loved to wreck people.

He was a natural at tickling, his favourite victims being Hamilton and Herc. Every time Hamilton said something that could be interpreted as ‘dumb’  or ‘grumpy’, Laf turned to the magic of his fingers to make him withdraw his statement. Most of the time, Lafayette wouldn’t even have to touch Hamilton, as his smirk and threatening wiggling fingers were enough to get Hamilton giggling sheepishly and surrendering. It wasn’t as easy with his boyfriend Herc, as he wasn’t as squirmishly ticklish, but a well aimed poke to his belly meant the end for him. 

And you may be wondering where he got these ler skills from. After all, he was an immigrant, gay revolutionary who spoke English as his second language, you would think he had more important things to worry about. 

Well, his fingers were a big part of it. They were long and skinny and were capable of both light traces and firm touches. But that wasn’t all. 

Another big part of it was an experience that took place in his earliest days with the Hamilsquad. This was back when he wasn’t yet the best at English. He could speak fluently, but still messed up on quite a few words, anarchy being one of them. On that particular day, he was tired and wanted to leave the bar, but a very drunk Hamilton wanted to stay back. 

“Come on”, he’d urged, “Time is tickling”.

The other three men looked at him in confusion, before they burst into laughter. Lafayette, confused, asked them what they were laughing about.

“Ticking”, Laurens said, “The word is ticking”.

Lafayette shrugged, “That's what I said, tickling”.

The group erupted into laughter again, and Lafayette also noticed that in addition to the three men laughing, Hamilton had a strong red coat of blush going from his cheekbones to his neck. 

“Come on guys, what's so funny?”

“You have the wrong word”, Alexander squeeked.

“Wrong word? What wrong word?”.

Hamilton chuckled, “Lafayette, there is a difference between ticking and tick-”

Suddenly, Hamilton stopped speaking. He looked down to the floor, his blush going darker. 

Laurens chuckled, “Oh come on man! Don’t tell me you can’t say tickle!”

And that was when it hit Laf: tickling and ticking. 

“Ohhh”, he said, “Yeah guys, you were right. I meant to say, ‘Time is ticking’“.

But the other men weren’t focused on him now. Instead, they were cooing at Alexander.

“Wow, you can’t even say the word?”

“Shut Up”.

“I’ll make you shut up!”.

That was when Laurens tackled Hamilton over and started wrecking him. It was a gorgeous sight to Laf; two men, laughing together, rolling around, play fighting. It than occurred to Lafayette that he hadn’t seen anybody be wrecked since he was a young child. At that moment, Lafayette took an immediate interest in tickling. After weeks and weeks of watching and observing Hamilton being wrecked by Laurens, he gathered all of the knowledge he needed to be a good ler himself. When he first started joining in with the tickling, it was quite a surprise, but the group got used to it and, after weeks of witnessing his tickling skills, crowned Lafayette the Squad Tickle Monster. That was around the time he started dating Herc. 

And now they were here, at The Place To Be bar, and Lafayette was wrecking Hamilton. 

“Nohohoho stohohohop!”

“Stop? Stop what?”

Hamilton practically screamed, his laughter bucking up as Lafayette dug into his hip bones. 

“Okay”, Laurens said, intervening, “Thats enough. I’d rather have a living boyfriend than a dead one”. 

Lafayette chuckled, “Fine, but that remark was pathetic”.

Hercules kissed Laf’s cheek, “I know your my boyfriend Laffy, but sometimes I think you can be a little too mean to my friends”.

“Pffft, mean? Hamilton was practically asking for it, we all know how much he loooves being tickled”.

Hamilton winced softly. Laurens wrapped an arm around his boyf. “Relax Hamilton, I’ll protect you from this evil man”, he said, gesturing to Lafayette.

“You think you have it bad, I’m his boyfriend. I’m not even that ticklish, and yet he still manages to tear me to pieces every morning!”, Herc stated.

Lafayette laughed cockily, “Well, what are you gonna do about it huh?”

The men pondered this for a moment. They all knew that Laf wasn’t ticklish, unless....

“Lafayette, have you got any secret tickle spots we haven’t tried?”, Laurens asked inocently.

“Well”, Herc said, “Iv’e gone for all of the commonly ticklish places: The feet, the armpits, the belly, the neck”.

“Have you tried his knees?”, Hamilton asked. Lafayette snickered, he knew that that was one of Alex’s worst spots.

Laurens turned to Herc, “Based on that reaction, I don’t think he’s ticklish there”.

“Hold up a second”, Herc said, before gently nudging Laf to the floor and sitting on his stomach, pinning him, “I wanna try this”.

Herc started gently squeezing Lafayette’s knees. 

And that was when he felt it.

An electric current, traveling from his knees to his whole body, urging his mouth to let out a shriek of laughter. It couldn’t be....was he actually ticklish?

He barked out a laugh, not being able to say anything. He hadn’t felt this feeling since he was little, he’s almost forgotten how bubbly yet unbearable it was.

Hercules’ eyes widened, stopping the squeeze, “No way! Could it be, my evil tickle monster boyfriend is ticklish?”

Lafayette could hardly believe it himself. He suddenly regretted all his cockiness and sassiness from earlier. He looked around the room to see that everyone was smirking cheekily. Uh-oh. 

“Well, well, well”, Alexander said, crouching down beside Herc, “It’s about time you got a taste of your own medicine!”.

At that moment, he felt two sets of hands squeezing a and tickling his upper legs and knees. He couldn’t help but collapse into loud, hearty laughter. 

“Boy, looks like the tables have turned on you Gilly!”, Hamilton remarked, drilling his thumbs into his hips, mimicking Laf’s actions from earlier. This caused the man to double over in laughter, squirming harder and cackling louder.

“NOHOHOHO!”

“What is it little Laf? Can you not take what you dish out?”.

Since when was Hamilton such a tease!

Laurens walked over to the other three, whipping out his phone and taking pictures.

“No!”, Lafayette cried, squealing as Herc got a perfectly aimed poke to his thigh, “Do not post those!”. 

“Sorry”, Laurens said, “It’s already on the group chat. Breaking news: the worlds greatest tickler is ticklish himself!”. 

This caused the three men to laugh, giving them less energy to precisely aim the tickles, causing them to stop. 

Lafayette panted, though Herc didn’t move a muscle. 

The three men looked down at him evilly once again. Hercules leaned down and kissed his cheek, “Your adorable baby”.

This made Laf blush. 

“Who wouldv’e known!”, Laurens remarked, “He even laughs in French!”

The three men laughed. Lafayette rolled his eyes, “Shut up”.

“Okay”, Herc said, closing his mouth and letting his fingers talk instead.

“NOHOHOHOHAHAH!”

“There it is, that sweet French laughter”, Hercules teased.

Now, you would think that after this event Lafayette would resign his role as the group tickle monster. However, nothing could be further from the truth. He continued tickling, despite the fact that he got tickled back every time. 

It was obvious: Lafayette enjoyed the receiving end of tickling as much as he enjoyed the giving end. 

[nicknellie]

@millie-andrews-rose requested: Alex gets put with a bully on a paired project, so Willie goes with him when they work on it to help him stay calm. Willie and the boy bond over skateboarding and Alex gets jealous, causing an argument between them. The boy then apologises to Alex for being so awful. Alex and Willie make up and it ends with their first “I love you”s. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and I absolutely love it. I really hope I’ve done you proud, especially since this was such a great prompt! Thanks!

And It’s Not My Fault

Alex adored projects. He loved having something big to focus on, a goal to work towards, something to keep him preoccupied. Any big time-consuming task was a lot of fun for him whether it was a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle or work for school worth a large part of his grade. There was, however, a single word that could be placed before the ‘project’ that would instantly transform it from Alex’s dream to his worst nightmare.

The word wasn’t ‘group’ as it would be for a lot of people. Alex liked group projects almost as much as he liked solo projects. Group projects were what he did with Julie, Luke, and Reggie almost every day, jamming in the studio and working towards having a complete set list in time for an upcoming gig. Group projects were what he occasionally did with Carrie and the girls of Dirty Candi when he would assist them with some choreography. Group projects were even tolerable with people Alex didn’t know well because he knew how they were supposed to work and usually he could convince everyone to do their fair share. So group projects were fine.

The word the ruined any chance of Alex having fun was ‘paired’.

Paired projects were the worst type of project. They always spelled trouble and Alex had never got a decent grade on one in his whole school career. It never felt like his fault, but when he thought about it he was the common denominator in every nightmare paired project scenario, so he had long ago decided that there must be something about paired projects that he was simply doing wrong.

Maybe it was that he wasn’t good one-on-one. Alex had always functioned better in groups (albeit small ones that couldn’t be overwhelming) and being face to face with just one person could be stressful. It was fine if it was a friend, and more than fine if it was his boyfriend, but when alone with a stranger Alex found himself running out of things to say and having nowhere to turn when the awkward silences set in. Or if he didn’t run out of things to say he would eventually say the wrong thing and that would start an entirely new alarm bell ringing in his mind as he panicked about accidentally being offensive. Overall, conversations without his emotional support band could be frustrating at best and somewhat dangerous at worst.

Perhaps it was true that Alex was the link in all these situations, but what he had always failed to consider was the fact that he had never been paired in a project with somebody who was actually willing to try and do well, which perhaps was a more prominent reason he’d never received a decent grade.

Alex had been having a good day. He was feeling bright for no reason in particular – needlessly optimistic days like this were his favourite, even though they usually were followed by needlessly pessimistic days as all those bad feelings caught up with him at once. Still, by now Alex had learnt to clutch that senseless joy while it was there and relish it before it was gone.

The joy was gone by noon.

“Alright, class,” Ms Osbourne said, clapping her hands to gain the class’s attention.

Alex hated his English classes. While he was good at English and rather enjoyed the subject itself, his class was rowdy and unruly and made it difficult to concentrate, while Ms Osbourne was a teacher so strict that if someone so much as thought about breaking a rule she would be able to sniff it out like a dog – but her bark was worse than her bite, and while she would shout an unnatural amount she rarely doled out punishments. The combination made for a lesson that was purely people shouting and no work being done.

The class quieted to a steady hum of chatter which was usually as silent as Ms Osbourne could get it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and continued. “Seeing as the end of the semester is coming up, I’m going to be setting you a project that will be worth forty percent of your grade. Essentially, it’s your final exam on our study of Macbeth.”

Alex perked up a little. He had been assigned projects for a lot of classes, but English projects were always the most enjoyable – they involved a lot of writing, which most people hated, but Alex found therapeutic; the only downside was that the source material was usually dreadfully dull. Still, Alex suddenly found himself looking forward to it.

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“I will tell you your assigned partners at the end of the lesson.”

Alex felt himself deflate and heaved a sigh. It had been too good to be true. Now he was going to be stuck on some boring project with a random student from his awful English class because he had no friends in this lesson and it was going to be horrible. It was all he could do to not let his head fall onto the table and scream in furious defeat.

It was on his mind all lesson. Who he was going to be with, what specific things the project would be on, how he could get out of it. His mind was buzzing with questions, building up energy that released itself by making his leg bounce up and down. Several times he found himself tapping out a rhythm on the table like it was his drumkit, his bouncing leg acting as if it was pounding the bass drum, and he had to force himself to stop and actually pay attention to the lesson.

The end came painfully slowly. The school bell rang and most of the students were up out of their seats immediately, ready to leave.

“Hang on,” Ms Osbourne yelled. “Everyone sit back down! I need to tell you your partners for the upcoming project.”

Alex listened attentively as she reeled off a list of names. Most people let out an annoyed groan when they found out they weren’t with a friend, and there was the occasional excited, “Yay!”

Alex knew he wouldn’t be one of the ones celebrating.

“Alex Mercer,” Ms Osbourne said eventually, pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. “Your partner is Harry Reynolds.”

“Oh god,” Alex murmured. He felt his stomach squirm just as somebody kicked the back of his chair so hard that he jolted forward and nearly whacked his face on the table. The person laughed a moment later, obnoxiously loud, begging for retaliation – Alex didn’t dare turn around to look at them.

He knew already that it was Harry Reynolds sat behind him who had kicked his chair. His project partner, and possibly the worst person in the class that it could have been. For reasons unknown to Alex, Harry had always had it out for him. In middle school he had pushed Alex down a flight of stairs and he had landed unceremoniously in a trash can – Harry had started calling him Bin Boy and the nickname had stuck for a year afterwards; Harry was the only one who used it anymore though. Since then, Harry had just been a general jerk towards him, and upon hearing that they were going to be partners, Alex’s whole body told him to run.

Run where? Alex thought. This wasn’t a problem he could run from. Besides, Harry could probably run faster.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Bin Boy,” came Harry’s voice from behind. “I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”

Ms Osbourne finally finished listing pairs and then announced, “These partners are non-negotiable. I will not indulge any requests to switch for any reason. Life isn’t fair, sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like. Get used to it. Now go on, you’re already late for your next class.”

Alex wasn’t usually one to ignore instructions, but as the rest of the class filed out into the hallway he remained behind. He didn’t know what he was planning to say to Ms Osbourne, but he desperately needed to find a way out of the project, or at least switch partners.

“Go on, Alex,” Ms Osbourne said, “you’re going to be late.”

He swallowed thickly and said, “Miss, I was just wondering about the proj–”

“You’re not swapping partners,” she returned sternly. “I’ve already said this. I won’t make any allowances.”

“But, Miss, I can’t work with him,” Alex protested. She raised her eyebrows and started walking around the room, putting sheets on each table for her next class. Alex followed her as she went. “He hates me! It’s going to be awful.”

“Well, maybe the two of you can use this as a way to bond and get to know each other better, hm?”

“Miss, please,” Alex said, his desperation finally rearing its ugly head in his voice. He could feel his legs shaking and his hands wringing themselves together and his head tingling in a way he couldn’t describe, and finally he broke. “He has it out for me and I don’t even know why! He’s been awful to me ever since we were kids, he tries to pick fights with me, he calls me names. Last year he chased me around the field with a baseball bat for a whole PE lesson! If I have to work with him I’ll just end up panicking – or dead, that’s also a possibility – and the project will go terribly and I’ll fail the class. Please can I just work by myself?”

Ms Osbourne’s expression softened as she look at Alex over her glasses. For a moment, Alex’s hopes were raised just that tiny bit – maybe he had got through to her, maybe she would see sense.

But then her face turned to stone again.

“No,” she spat. “What you can do is figure out with Harry when the two of you are going to work on this project and how you’re going to go about it. And you can get to your next class.” She turned away with a cold air of finality. Alex could have sworn he actually felt chills.

Without a word, Alex heaved his bag onto his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, crushed and dejected. He stared down at his feet as he walked and tried not to think about what the next few weeks could have in store for him.

Lunch couldn’t have come sooner. After what felt like an eternity, Alex finally made his way down to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. If there was any one thing that was guaranteed to cheer Alex up when he was in a bad mood, it was the good company of his band and his boyfriend.

The rest of the group was already sat at their usual table when Alex arrived in the cafeteria; just seeing them laughing and joking together put the tiniest hint of a smile of his face. He headed over to them, but was stopped in his tracks by somebody stood in front of him – it was Harry Reynolds.

The boy had his arms crossed over his massive chest and was leering down at Alex with an expression of disgust. Alex tried to look past him at his friends, to get their attention, to ask for help, but they hadn’t seen him. Instead, he forced himself to look up into Harry’s brutish face and try not to squirm.

“Partners, huh?” Harry grunted. “I’m failing English so you’ll need to get us a good grade.”

“That’s the plan,” Alex said, willing his voice not to shake. It wasn’t that he was too frightened or intimidated by Harry, it was just the fact that he really didn’t feel like getting chucked in a bin today. One wrong move and he could consider that a real possibility.

“Be at my place on Saturday at one. Bring all your notes – I don’t have any.”

“I can’t do Saturday,” Alex told him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have band practise.”

Harry took a step closer. Alex couldn’t move back – his feet were rooted to the spot. “You think I care about your dopey little band practise? You’ll be there. That’s that.”

Alex swallowed, nodded hurriedly, and finally forced himself to take a step back so that he wasn’t chest to chest with Harry. “I’ll be there,” he echoed, still nodding.

Harry snarled, condescendingly patted Alex on the head, and walked off. Alex took a moment to collect himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt, that Harry hadn’t done anything. He steadied himself and kept walking towards his friends, trying to mask the worry on his face.

Of course, he failed miserably.

The moment Alex sat down in his usual space between Willie and Luke, Willie took his hand, watching him with concern. “Hey,” Willie said gently, “what’s up?”

Julie, Luke, and Reggie immediately stopped their conversation, turning to face Alex and Willie. Alex hated the way they were looking at him, like he’d break if they dropped him, but it wasn’t like he could ask them to stop caring – instead, he looked at each of them, trying and failing to give them a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“Nothing,” Alex said, “nothing, it’s just… just this project for English.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “Has your class got that stupid Shakespeare assignment too? I get it, bro, it’s totally pointless–”

“No,” Alex interrupted quietly. “No, that’s not it. Well, kind of. Yeah, we’ve got the Shakespeare assignment but that’s not… not the problem.”

“What is it?” Willie prompted gently when Alex didn’t continue.

Alex shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

Julie leaned over the table and grasped Alex’s other hand. “Alex, your feelings are not stupid.”

She smiled warmly. Funny things happened when Julie smiled – when she did it to Luke, it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally trip over himself; when she did it to Reggie, it made him smile in return for hours on end; and when she did it to Alex, it gave him such overwhelming confidence that for a moment or two he could truly do anything.

“It’s just that we were assigned partners and I got stuck with Harry Reynolds,” he admitted, clutching Willie and Julie’s hands tighter. “It’s nothing and I shouldn’t be worried but–”

“It’s not nothing,” Willie said. Alex couldn’t quite read his expression – it looked to be something between sympathy and outrage. “That guy is the worst. Did you talk to your teacher about it?”

Alex nodded gravely. “She wouldn’t let me switch.”

“How much did you tell her?” Willie asked.

“What I thought would have been enough,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “But it wasn’t.”

“She should be fired for that,” Reggie interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m just saying – if by ‘enough’ you mean that you told her what a jerk he’s been to you then she should follow that up and treat it like an issue instead of making you work with him.”

What would have been wise words were ruined slightly by the fact that Reggie spoke them around a mouthful of pizza.

“Reggie’s right,” Julie said, “she’s definitely in the wrong here.”

“I know that,” Alex told them, because he did, that much was obvious. “But it’s a little late for that now. I’m stuck with him.”

Willie clutched his hand tighter, threaded their fingers together. Alex leaned to the side, rested his head on Willie’s shoulder. Julie let go of his hand and Willie immediately picked it up – he smiled a little at both of them.

“I know saying it’s all going to be okay won’t help,” Willie whispered to him, “but you’ve got to try and believe that it will. And if it isn’t, I am just one call away. If you need anything – I mean anything – you call me and I will be there. Okay?”

Alex’s tense muscles relaxed the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he muttered back. “That’s okay.”

Willie kissed the top of his head and a fraction of Alex’s anxiety lifted. Willie would be there when he needed him no matter what. That was something he could always count on.

*

Luke hadn’t been happy when Alex had called him early on Saturday morning to tell him he wouldn’t be coming to band practise that day. He had given Alex a half-hour-long earful about how they had a gig coming up in a few days’ time and they needed to be rehearsing like crazy. It hadn’t been pleasant for Alex in the slightest, but at least it had been a welcome distraction from the other thing on his mind, the reason he had had to cancel band practise in the first place.

It was the day he was supposed to go to Harry’s house to work on their project. Alex had hardly slept the night before – he had lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to empty his mind and relax, but sleep just wouldn’t come. At half past two he had crept downstairs and made a batch of brownies using a recipe of his grandmother’s. At the time he’d thought that maybe he could use them to placate Harry once he got to his house, but he’d accidentally ended up stress-eating the entire batch instead.

He felt sick, but couldn’t tell if it was the brownies or the anxiety. Probably an unhealthy mix of both, he decided.

But he had passed the first hurdle and he told himself to be proud of that – he had arrived outside Harry’s house. It was a small bungalow on a road that led nowhere and Alex was struck by how normal it looked. It didn’t look like the sort of place somebody like Harry Reynolds should have lived; Harry was larger than life, tall and brooding, moody and mean – this house looked as if its occupants sold flowers and rescued kittens in their spare time.

Despite the outward appearances of the house, Alex was almost certain that he was in the right place. The front window seemed to show Harry’s bedroom because through it Alex could see innumerable trophies, all for different sporting events; a large stack of magazines (Alex was sure he could already guess what each contained); and a small enclosure that looked to Alex unbearably similar to a tank that might house a snake or a spider or any other creature that Alex would have preferred stayed thousands of miles away from him where it belonged.

He could not make himself walk into the house.

He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes and had walked past the house almost thirty times. He had counted his steps and was somewhere near eight thousand. His mind was racing, shooting through a hundred anxieties before Alex had the chance to dwell on any of them – maybe that was for the best. But it didn’t help the fact that he could not force his legs to walk in the direction of the door.

The worries stopping him weren’t even big ones like ‘What if he tries to hurt me?’ which Alex stressed over every time he interacted with Harry. It was the little things and the impossible things pricking the back of his mind like needles: What if he doesn’t answer the door? What if nobody’s home? What if I’m at the wrong house? What if he’s changed his mind? What if I got the wrong day? What if I got the wrong time? What if he’s not actually my project partner? What if… What if… What if…

What if I call Willie?

Alex blessed his brain for having its first sensible thought that day. He fished his phone out his pocket and called Willie, who picked up after one ring.

“Hey,” Willie said, “what’s up, hotdog?”

“I, um… I’m at Harry’s house. I can’t go inside.”

“Why not?” Willie asked. “Is the door locked? Are they out?”

Alex shook his head although Willie couldn’t see him. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just… I… I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Willie asked patiently.

“I can’t go inside,” Alex repeated. With his free hand, he tugged at the strap of his fanny pack, fiddling with the buckle where it lay over his chest. “I can’t go up to the door. I’ve been trying for, like, twenty minutes and every time I try my head starts buzzing and my legs go numb and I’m starting to feel really sick now because I ate an entire batch of brownies meant for at least ten people and I can’t do this–”

“Okay,” Willie interrupted. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, Alex. Remember the breathing exercises we went over? Breathe in for four and out for six. Come on, hotdog, you’ve got this.”

Alex did as he said, taking great shuddering breaths of bitter air and releasing them slowly. Willie kept talking him through it, slowly, softly, kindly, and after about ten minutes Alex felt refreshed. Not necessarily worry-free, but his mind had cleared a little bit.

“Okay,” Willie said. “That was great, well done. Can you give me this guy’s address?”

Alex gave it to him.

“Luckily for you, that’s just down the road from where I am right now,” Willie said, chipper. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and it almost made him smile himself. Almost. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll go inside with you, if that’s what you want?”

Alex breathed a haggard, relieved sigh. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Willie.”

Willie gave a small chuckle. “Any time, hotdog. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ll see you in a minute.”

And he hung up.

Alex waited, still doing his breathing exercises, but didn’t need to wait long. Hardly five minutes later, Willie rolled up (literally – he was on his skateboard) and gave him a bright smile. Alex didn’t hesitate before lurching forward and pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Willie,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

Willie’s response was simply to hug him tighter.

Together, hands clasped tightly between them, Willie with his board tucked under his arm, they made their way up to the bungalow’s front door. Alex swallowed, steeled himself, and then firmly knocked on the door. When nobody answered it in the first five seconds, Alex told Willie, “This is a bad idea,” and tried to turn away to leave.

However, Willie just pulled him back and a moment later the door opened. On the threshold of the house was Harry, staring down at Alex and Willie. Something about him wasn’t quite as nightmarish as it was at school, yet at the same time Alex was much more afraid. He held Willie’s hand tighter.

Harry nodded in Willie’s direction. “Who’s this, Bin Boy? You brought your boyfriend?”

“Actually, yeah,” Willie said, speaking for Alex. He was glad – his throat felt thick and he didn’t think he could have summoned up any words if he tried. “I’m Willie. I’ve heard about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What?”

“Just a few things,” Willie said nonchalantly. “Nothing important. Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and Alex and I are set to hang out when he’s done here anyway so I thought I’d come along. Is that alright with you?”

“It’s fine,” Harry returned with a shrug. Then his eyes landed on something and his entire expression changed. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look like this before. Could it have been what he thought it was: excitement? “Bro! You skate?”

Willie lifted his board half-heartedly. “This isn’t just for decoration.”

Harry grinned, clapping Willie on the shoulder so hard that his hand dropped from Alex’s. “Dude, that’s sick, I do too. Come on, get inside, man.”

Harry headed back into the house and Willie followed him. Alex took a moment to wonder what the hell that had been, then took a deep breath and hurried after them. When he caught up with Willie he grabbed his hand again. Willie just smiled bemusedly up at him.

Harry led them to his bedroom and beckoned them towards his desk.

“Come look at this,” Harry said. “I had a photo taken with Tony Hawk last year!”

Alex perched himself right on the edge of the bed awkwardly as Willie went over to inspect the framed photo.

“Are you sure that’s Tony Hawk?” Willie asked. “Doesn’t look like him.”

Harry shook his head. “You’ve got to imagine he’s holding a skateboard, then you’ll see it.”

Alex watched Willie squint at the photo for a moment or two longer, then he gasped and, to Alex’s horror, began to smile. “Oh, wait… yeah, kinda. That’s awesome, dude!”

“Yeah! Anyway, how long have you been skating for?”

As Willie answered, Alex zoned out of the conversation. Ordinarily, he loved listening to Willie talk about skating – he lit up whenever he explained a new trick he’d learnt, and seeing him flush with pride after he demonstrated it perfectly to Alex always made him feel giddy – but it just wasn’t the same listening to him chat with Harry Reynolds of all people. Alex didn’t even know who that Tony Hawk guy was and it didn’t seem like anyone was about to bother explaining it to him. He would never have admitted it, but listening to Willie talk to Harry was almost annoying.

He busied himself by looking around the room, getting a glimpse at what the real Harry Reynolds was like. At school, Harry was the classic, early-2000s movie jock, on every sports team the school had to offer, constantly bragging about his luck with girls, and picking on people smaller than him (which, because Harry was built like a tree trunk, was pretty much everyone). His room reflected it too; there were even more trophies than Alex had seen through the window, most for football or, unexpectedly, karate, and the walls were plastered in posters displaying buff men and weirdly specific motivational quotes. Only now did Alex notice the skateboards stuck on the wall and the stack of helmets by his bed, as well as several skating posters directly above them.

He turned back to Willie and Harry just in time to hear Willie laugh. Properly laugh, loud and genuine. Willie only laughed like that with his friends and it hearing it in Harry’s room stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to smile.

Willie waved him off. “Don’t worry, hotdog, just a skating joke.”

Harry snickered, shaking his head. “Pretty freaking funny though.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He tried for a laugh but it was the least genuine noise he had ever made – judging by the look Harry sent him, it had been obvious how fake it was to him too. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shouldn’t we get on with our work? We’re already running behind schedule.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut it, Bin Boy, we’re having a conversation here. You start if you want, I’ll join you whenever.”

Alex sent a look to Willie, eyes wide and pleading. Willie frowned, looking conflicted, but then shrugged.

Willie and Alex didn’t fight often, but Alex wouldn’t have minded giving Willie a piece of his mind right then and there.

He didn’t though. He sighed, shuffled back on the bed so that he could have more room and lean on the mattress, and he started working on the project. It wasn’t too difficult, just an analysis on the themes of Macbeth, something they had gone over in class a hundred times; still, Alex would have appreciated some help, seeing as this was a paired project and he didn’t exactly want to do the whole thing alone.

But it was fine. He kept telling himself that it was completely and utterly fine. But every so often Willie or Harry would laugh or suddenly shout, and the abrupt noise would startle Alex. The third time that happened he accidentally jogged his highlighter so it zigzagged all over his painstakingly neat paragraph on King James I. He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic almost cracked, and set about writing the whole thing again on a new piece of paper.

Alex didn’t know how long he had been working for, but he did know that it had been a hell of a long time and Harry still hadn’t made any effort to help him. He had copied up all his notes on the supernatural, women, ambition, and the Great Chain of Being, all the while Harry had sat there with Willie, not doing anything.

The strange thing was, Alex found himself more angry at Willie than he was at Harry.

Eventually, he checked the time, his hand aching. It was almost five o’clock, which meant he had been working alone for about four hours solidly. He had done pretty much half of the project in that time and was nearing his breaking point – he thought that if he left now he could catch the tail end of band practise and take his frustration out on his drumkit.

Gathering his notes and all his work, Alex said, “I’m going to head out.”

Willie checked the clock on Harry’s desk and then set about clipping his helmet on. “Yeah, we should get going. This was fun, though, man. It was nice to talk to a fellow skater for once.”

“I hear you, dude,” Harry returned. They fist-bumped and Alex physically cringed. “Catch you later.”

Alex didn’t say goodbye, just saw himself out. He didn’t wait for Willie. He simply walked, trying to get out of the house and as far away as possible in as little time as he could. Alex could hear Willie shouting for him to wait up but he didn’t stop.

He felt Willie grab his hand and pull him to a halt, but pulled his hand from Willie’s grasp.

“What’s up with you?” Willie asked, seeming truly bewildered. “I thought that was alright back there, it was relaxed, not stressful. Are you still feeling anxious?”

Alex didn’t answer his question and instead he said with much more venom than he had intended, “What the hell was that?”

Willie looked taken aback. Alex almost felt bad. Almost.

“What was what?”

“In there!” Alex yelled, pointing in the direction of Harry’s house. “You talking to him like you’re best friends! That guy is a jerk, you know that, Willie, so why were you laughing and joking with him as if he’s the nicest guy in the world?”

Willie didn’t look impressed. “Sorry, I was under the impression you wanted me there. I was talking to him to distract from you. That’s what you wanted, right? You were nervous about going so you wanted my help to take the pressure off you. I was helping you, Alex, because that was what you asked me to do!”

“Not like that,” Alex protested. “You weren’t supposed to bond with him, leave me out completely so that I had to do all the work by myself and listen to you two talk about skateboards and… Toby Eagle, or whoever that guy was!”

“It was Tony Hawk. And it’s not my fault that Harry likes skateboarding,” Willie shot back. “It’s also not my fault that I enjoyed talking to someone who shares that interest for once. You listen and you pretend to know what I’m talking about, but it isn’t the same.”

“It didn’t have to be him!”

“Actually, given the circumstances, it did. And like I said – it got the attention off you, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

Alex felt his temper rising with each sentence. He never got this upset at Willie, this was a complete first. Sure, they had argued like any couple would, but he had never felt any real anger towards his boyfriend. It frightened him, and that fright stopped him from seeing any sense, taking a step back, calming himself down.

“I didn’t want you to do it like that,” he said, as if it was obvious. It was obvious to Alex – why wasn’t it obvious to Willie?

“I can’t read your mind, Alex,” Willie shouted, pointing at himself. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head!”

“You should know!”

“I don’t! It could be anything! I don’t think you realise that when it comes to you and your anxiety, I’m pretty much flying as blind as you are. Sure, I’ve done my research and I can handle it, but I never know what’s going to trigger you and set you off like earlier today. I may seem prepared, but I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what you’re going to worry about most. It is not my fault that sometimes I might not handle it in the best way. I’m trying my hardest, Alex.”

“You aren’t the one who has to go through the panic attacks and the constant worry, are you?” Alex seethed.

Willie shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I still worry about you all the time because I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”

“It’s not my fault I have anxiety,” Alex yelled.

“I never said it was! But it’s not my fault either – I dropped everything just to come and help you today and all you’re doing is throwing it right back in my face and arguing with me for helping you out! It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!”

Alex froze. Willie did too. The words were out there, they’d been spoken without hesitation. They hung between the two of them like a toxic cloud, as both of them slowly realised the weight those words had held.

Willie broke the silence, reaching out his hand to Alex, trying to bridge that gap between them that had widened impossibly in the last ten seconds. “Alex, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean t–”

Alex stepped back, out of reach from Willie. Willie flinched and he withdrew his hand, instead crossing his arms and rubbing circles by his elbow with his thumb. It was a nervous tick Alex only ever saw when Willie was really stressed out. Normally he would have tried to soothe him, calm him down, but all he could hear were Willie’s words echoing back and forth through his mind.

It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!

Alex schooled his features to careful neutrality, not betraying any emotion. It wasn’t hard, seeing as he wasn’t feeling much at that moment anyway, just a cold detachment.

“I heard you,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t look Willie in the eye. “I heard exactly what you said. I know what you meant.”

“Then you’ve got to know that I wasn’t trying to–”

“I know what you meant,” he repeated. “I’m going back to band practise. I don’t think you should come and watch today.”

He shook his head and, turning on his heel, walked away. He didn’t hear Willie’s footsteps following him this time.

*

Band practise had helped calm Alex down with a mixture of wrestling his drumkit and talking things out with Julie, Luke, and Reggie. They had all seemed utterly shocked that Willie would say anything like that, but Alex wasn’t so surprised. After all, things like this were what he worried about – being left alone, being disliked by the people he cared for most, being a nuisance, being abandoned. Deep down in the pit of his worst anxieties, he had been worried that something like this could have happened.

He just had never thought it would have come from Willie.

While band helped him calm down, it didn’t help cheer him up. He regretted even bringing the argument up in the first place – if he had ignored his feelings (which Julie had bluntly explained to him were jealousy) then he could have avoided the whole argument. Instead of lying in his cold bed, unable to sleep that night, he could have been curled up with Willie on the couch in the studio, warm and cosy because Willie was like a human radiator.

He knew that neither of them had been fair on each other. He could see Willie’s side of the argument once he had calmed down. But he knew that what he had said was equally valid and he couldn’t get past the scorn in Willie’s voice when he’d said those damning words.

He didn’t hear from Willie all throughout Sunday and didn’t make any moves to contact him himself either. If he did, he had no clue where he would have even begun. Perhaps an apology – but where was he supposed to take the conversation from there?

So Sunday was silent.

Alex was slightly dreading school on Monday, but he wasn’t about to ruin his high grades by not showing up, especially this close to the end of the semester. Grudgingly, he headed to school and went straight to his first lesson, which just so happened to be the lesson from Hell: English.

He arrived there before the rest of the class, including Ms Osbourne, which meant he had time to dwell on his thoughts alone. He probably wasn’t going to fail this class – despite Saturday having been a nightmare, he had managed to get a lot of good work done on the project and it would be of a very high quality when he finally got it finished. But he still had more work to do and he knew that he really ought to do it with Harry. Absently, he pondered whether or not to bring Willie next time he needed to go to Harry’s house.

Talk of the devil, Alex thought as the classroom door swung open and none other than Harry himself sauntered in. He looked at Alex sat there alone, the only other person in the room, and grunted, coming to sit beside him.

Alex didn’t have the energy to be scared of Harry Reynolds today.

“I’ve been looking for you, Mercer,” Harry said conversationally.

“Oh, joy,” Alex deadpanned. Harry looked surprised, probably because Alex wasn’t cowering in fear, but he shrugged it off.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he continued. “I just wanted to say that your boyfriend, that Willie guy, he’s really cool. I mean, the way he was talking about skating the other day – I don’t know if you realise it, man, but he has a real shot at going pro.”

“I know,” Alex spat. “He’s my boyfriend, of course I know. Maybe I don’t skate but I still listen to him. And I know him better than you do.”

Harry held up a hand. “Woah, calm down, Bin B– uh. Alex. I’m just trying to say the guy is really cool and you’re really lucky to have him. And also… talking to him the other day, he said– well, you weren’t listening, were you?”

Alex shook his head.

“We did stop talking about skating at some point, you know,” Harry told him. “Willie was telling me how awesome you are and, you know, explaining why he likes you so much. And I guess it made me realise that I’ve kind of been a jerk to you for a long time – I mean, he literally told me so. He told me to stop being such a douchebag to you.”

Alex grunted. “He’s right. You should stop. It sucks.”

Harry nodded. “I wanted to apologise for it, I guess. I’m sorry for being so nasty to you. I think it’s just because I was young and dumb and I didn’t realise it was hurting you at first, then it just stuck. I kind of always thought it was friendly too – I didn’t think you minded. I thought it was banter.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “It never was. I’m terrified of you, you’ve made my life a misery. Thanks for the apology, but it’s no excuse.”

“I know that,” he admitted. “But I just wanted to explain why. I’m going to try my best to be a better guy from now on. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done in the past, but can you give me a chance to get this right?”

Alex considered. Somehow, Harry seemed completely serious. His expression was slightly pleading and he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable to be asking this of Alex, but it seemed real.

So he nodded.

“Fine. Thank you.”

Harry clapped him on the back. “No worries, dude. And, uh… this might not be my place to ask, but are you okay? You look down.”

Alex shrugged. “I had an argument with Willie after we left your place the other day. I’ve not spoken to him since.”

“Was it my fault?” Harry asked.

“Kinda,” Alex told him, shrugging again. “I just… I didn’t like how friendly you two seemed. After everything you’ve done to me in the past, watching him get along with you like it was nothing made me a little mad.”

“Sorry, bro,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not into him or anything, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there – plus, he’s crazy about you, so even if someone else did like him they’d be out of luck. I just wanted to talk with someone about skating for once, none of my friends are into it.”

“Willie said the same thing,” Alex admitted.

Harry nodded awkwardly. “I don’t have any say in your relationship, but honestly I’m kind of invested in it now and I think you guys should talk it out. I’d hate to think I played some part if you ended up breaking up over this.”

“I don’t want to break up with him,” Alex objected, horrified. The thought of breaking up with Willie, losing him forever, made him feel sick to the stomach.

The rest of the class began filing into the classroom. Harry stood up, shrugged, and then clapped Alex on the shoulder.

“Go talk to him, then.”

*

Alex, for the first time in his life, took the advice Harry had given him and decided to take that first, absolutely terrifying step towards fixing the break between himself and Willie. If he knew his boyfriend (and he did) then Willie would have gone to the skatepark straight after school, so that was where Alex headed too.

Sure enough, Alex found Willie at the skatepark, sat at the top of the highest ramp. Every now and then, someone on a board would do a trick nail-bitingly close to Willie’s face, but he didn’t flinch even once. He was staring off into the peachy sunset, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Alex climbed up there and sat himself down next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked uneasily.

Willie startled and turned to Alex, caught unawares. “Alex! I thought you–”

Willie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Alex pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing, fierce hug, pouring every last ounce of love and regret into it. He felt Willie hug back with equal force and buried his face into Willie’s long hair. This, he knew, was how it was supposed to be – Alex and Willie, boyfriends who care far too much about each other, not Alex and Willie, boyfriends on the edge of a break-up.

Eventually, Alex withdrew himself and let Willie go mostly, still keeping a tight clutch on his upper arms.

“I am so sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry for everything I said and for starting the argument and for everything that happened that day.”

Willie shook his head. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I should have realised how talking to Harry like that would have made you feel. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have said such hurtful things to you, and–”

“I get it,” Alex said breezily, “I’m a lot to deal with.”

Desperately, Willie said, “But that’s not what I meant! I can’t explain what I was trying to say, but I wouldn’t change anything about you or our relationship for the world. You mean the everything to me, Alex, and I never want to do something to jeopardise what we have ever again. I’d do anything to take back what I said to you that day.”

Alex pulled him back into the hug, needing to be close to him. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And Harry. But we’ve all apologised now, even him, so we can put this whole thing behind us.”

Willie pulled back, surprised. “He apologised?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “Because of you. He said you were going on about how amazing I am and he realised he’d been a jerk.”

Willie blushed the tiniest bit, and playfully punched Alex’s arm. “Well, you are amazing. You’re more than amazing. You’re a miracle and I’m lucky to have you.”

Smiling, Alex cupped Willie’s cheek and gently pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, slow, and Alex felt like they were glowing, bright and warm and happy. They kissed until every unspoken word had been said, until the last of the orange sunset had ebbed away into night-time blue, until streetlights cast an amber glow across the skatepark, in which they were the only ones left. Alex felt like he was finally at peace, with himself and with Willie.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against Willie’s. “I’m lucky to have you too. I can’t even begin to understand what good luck brought you to me.”

Willie moved back slightly, shuffled further away until he was only holding Alex’s hands, until that was the only point where they touched. Alex missed his warmth.

“Sorry,” Willie giggled, smile bright. “I wanted to be able to look you in the eyes for this.”

“For what?” Alex asked.

Willie’s smile softened. “I love you, Alex. And I’m pretty sure I always will.”

Alex’s heart stopped. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words out loud. Sure, he had felt them in every little action from Willie in all the time they’d been together – he had felt his love in the way he cared for him when he was sick, in the way he bundled himself up in Alex’s hoodies, in the way he played with Alex’s hair, in the way he brought him back from the edge when he was anxious, in the way he devoted every part of himself to Alex.

He had loved Willie in return too, in the little ways – how he listened to Willie talk about skating and watched him practise, how he brushed and braided Willie’s hair to relax them both, how he danced with Willie whenever he wanted because he simply couldn’t say no, how he wrote songs that only Willie would ever hear, how he listened to Willie talk nonsense in his sleep on those nights they slept at the studio together.

But he too had never said the words out loud.

He pulled Willie in for another kiss, brief but burning, and then held his hands again. Willie was right – this was something Alex wanted to look in his eyes for.

“I love you, too, Willie. I’ll never stop.”

[alldayangst]

100 letters, just for me (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. PAIRING: uni (fuckboy/frat) Tom x uni reader. Summary: ‘You wrote a hundred letters just for me / And I find them in my closet in the pockets of my jeans / Now I’m constantly reminded me of the time I was nineteen / Every single ones forgotten in a laundromat machine’.

“Walk of shame?” your friend, Camren, sat in the lounge, TV on low as Tom walked with his clothes carelessly thrown on his body, recovered hoodies and jumpers you previously stole sat in a pile as high as mountains in his hands, leading Camren to wonder whether or not it was really the end this time round. “Third time this week!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be back anytime soon.” Tom slams the door behind him as hard as he could, and just when Camren thinks they can get a moment of peace, they hear a screeching sob rip through the air through the walls of your room. And Camren swears they live in a movie; a scratched CD of a bad romantic drama, that replays the part where the lovers face their problems over and over again.

‘My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it’

You remembered the start of this debacle like it was yesterday. You and Tom were in the bathtub and Tom told you to reach inside the back pocket of your jeans, he’d left something important in there. “I’m not ready to get married, if you left a ring in there. I’m only 19.” Tom kissed your shoulder, back cold and pressed against the tub - but he’d been willing to compromise to be the crutch you leaned against, to be the haven you found refuge in. To be the hill you died on.

“It better not be a ring, Holland. I swear.”

“I’ve never met someone who didn’t want to get proposed to as much as you.” He laid his chin against your shoulder once your search become successful, and you found a strip of paper in your trouser back pocket.

“My mouth hasn’t shut up about you, since you kissed it.” You turned to Tom who could only see your face in the corner of his eye, having found a new living situation of the warm, wet slope previously called your shoulder. “Tom, what is this?”

“100 letters, just for you. You’ll find them in every pair of your jeans. I’m with you forever.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and press a hard, loving kiss on your lips, causing you to drop the tiny piece upon which Tom scribbled his message. “Just for me? You stole this from a love letter by Alex Turner to Alexa Chung!” Tom couldn’t take his love-hazed gaze off of you, and kissed you again like he was oblivious to the words you were saying or you were speaking a foreign language he didn’t understand. “You don’t stop complaining, do you?”

Six months later marked the end of yours and Tom’s gap year, and you decided to move in together off campus.

“I can’t find it.” Tom smiled as he shook his head, your orange in his hand as he sat on a stool opposite your lunchbox. He knew you had a presentation that day and was eager to impress, so you’d shoved your most sensible pair of slacks in the washing machine without a care and when Tom went to unload it, his note for you torn into tiny pieces and covered in botched ink slithered out and caplunked into a minuscule puddle on your wooden floor.

“I’m serious, you didn’t write one this time.” You rummaged through your blazer pockets just to check for certain you were right before you turned to Tom with every bit of confidence that he’d truly forgotten to write you a little love letter this time around.

Tom placed the orange back into the fruit basket and opted for a tomato instead. He took note of the shock in your face and the wince you made as he juggled it, and it drew dangerously close to the ground. “Tom, don’t juggle that. If it hits the ground, it will splatter everywhere.” Tom giggled. 

“Have you checked your slacks?”

“You think I haven’t checked my trousers?” You turned your trouser pockets inside out with the flare of pride.”You’ve forgotten. It’s OK, Tom.”

You opened your lunchbox to place your orange in, but a piece of red card occupied the compartment usually owed to your snacks. 

You held the card up: “I love you from my head tomatoes.” Tom chuckled cheekily, not watching as the tomato rolled off the counter and depicted a large, red splatter on the kitchen floor. But Tom promised he would clean it up.

Tom didn’t forget about writing one love letter, until he did. And by that point, his letters had felt almost as autonomous as the days of the week. You didn’t even have to think about it, they just went by. So you’d be raking through every end of the house, expecting to find his letter.

“Tom, where’s the letter?”

“Huh? I don’t know.” Tom locked the door as if he’d been chased by wolves, looking up and down through the peephole and then giving a satisfied lick of the lip.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” 

“As in, I don’t know - you’d have to look for it darling.”

Little did he know that’s what you spent your whole day doing. And you hadn’t found anyone with sharper eyes or a bigger will to find it for you.

You didn’t find the note that night. You didn’t know there wasn’t any.

“I found one! ‘You’re my happy place’.” Huh. Tom hadn’t written a new one in a while. He must have put a note in both of the pockets in this pair of jeans. These jeans had been tossed aside, barely worn, in fact - never worn since you’d tried them out in the dressing room at the store two months ago. You were in awe of how young love could take you so far, and kissed the tired Tom that laid beside you. You pulled back and caressed his cheek.

“Why didn’t you kiss back?” You asked, too drunk on ignorant bliss to acknowledge the warning signs and the parade of red flags that told you to leave before you got truly hurt. “M’ just tired.” And it showed. His hair was matted, clad to his face, a few shades darker that it usually was due to all the sweat. He took in every breath like he’d never breathed before and kept watering at the eye; the kind of cry you did when even the fatigue wouldn’t let you sleep. 

It was inevitable. Three months later, you and Tom broke up. You were freshly twenty, and freshly out of a relationship. Tom moved out of your shared apartment, and you found yourself trying to navigate university with a compass that seemed to only point South. You never had to have friends here before, because you had Tom. It was out of sheer luck that you stumbled upon Camren who not only shared your soul and your mind, but agreed to share your home. Tom Holland quickly became synonymous with London nightlife and out of reluctance to let you go (call it withdrawal symptoms), requested that you continue to see each other as long as romance was left out of the equation. You’d happily obliged and incessantly kept a cobweb-covered carousel going years after it stopped being the main attraction. On the nights you left with Tom, Camren was tossed aside, forgotten like coat in a cloakroom, so it was only fair game that they’d tease and whine at you when Tom left in the morning. If Tom left in the morning.

Tom was ravenous, and you ended up on Camren’s nest of a sofa. “I love the bones off you.” he muttered, and Tom was perhaps too keen to grab a handful of your backside, he docked both hands into both your pockets, fingernails scrambling at little torn pieces of paper. His heart went into panic mode. He squirmed to get out. The piece of paper landed beside you as he forcefully yanked his hands out, feeling like a prisoner freed to a world that was only half of what it was before.

‘I’d be a crazy, blind man to ever leave you.’

The room fell silent. Maybe with Camren’s TV on low, you didn’t have the space to have these moments. To stop indulging in the highs of life and really examine why the lows were the lows.

“Tom. I’m demanding honesty.”

Tom sighs. He’s so different these days, so cold. He unentangles your bodies and huffs and puffs like a little kid who hasn’t gotten their way. This, before you’d even said anything. You don’t know if you can deal with this white noise. 

“I just want to know why we broke up.”

Tom chooses to look at the artwork opposite the couch, because his safe place is no longer his safe place. Because now that you’re demanding honesty, instead of taking it when it comes, his happy place becomes his vulnerable. Tom didn’t like to be vulnerable. It’s why he ended things in the first place.

“Well, we’re in uni..” Tom’s not sure if he wants to continue. He can feel the spotlight on him, you looking at him. He’s center stage but not one for attention. He’s suddenly painfully aware of the fragility of his answer, and worries it will go ‘splat!’ and make like a tomato, and then you’ll really never speak to him again. He furrows his brows as he looks down into his lap, twiddling and pulling at his fingers as if they had the answer (they used to) before he says it in the best way he knows how, your eyes boring into him. “We’re at uni, and there’s so many beautiful women and handsome men, and mighty attractive human beings walking around here, and it’s hard to believe one person you met at a stupid age could compare to the pool of people that are here.”

And how it sounds in Tom’s head, how he meant it is so much better to the way it sounds and means to you. Because words like ‘compare’ and ‘pool of people’ highlight how insignificant and worthless Tom felt he was to you. He felt he communicated how he insecure he was feeling. To you? Words like ‘comapre’ only shine a torch on your own insecurities and phrases like ‘pool of people’ makes you contemplate whether Tom was ever unfaithful, and it made you feel insignificant, worthless. 

“So, I’m definitely not the only person in your life right now.” Tom looks up and before he can say anything- “I’m not something you can butter up and taste when you get bored.”

“Y/N.” Tom starts. “That would never be the way I could see you.”

“I’d like you to leave, Tom.”

And leave he does.

Two weeks later, you and Camren found yourself in a predicament. “Can you get it out?” Camren had their hand down the drain of your bathtub. Cautiously, they launched two fingers in. “Can you get it out?” You asked again, nibbling lightly on the tip of your nails out of nervousness.

“Honestly, it doesn’t feel that big.” Camren stops their search after hooking their finger around the culprit of which blocked your plughole. “It’s a piece of fucking paper.” Camren sighs a breath of relief. “My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it.”

You breathe in.

Credit for the gif goes to: /dreamyyholland

Masterlist

Upcoming Works

[kasey-writes-stuff]

Wooo first fic of the four I’ve been talking about!

You were visiting Niki for a few weeks and you guys had decided it would be fun to do a little media share you laugh you lose stream! It was about an hour in and things were going okay you hadn’t cracked once and Niki had only cracked twice! You guys had five lives and with it already being an hour in and still having three left you considered this a win already! Everything was going smoothly until suddenly a tickle scene from dragon tales showed up, your eyes widened as you felt butterflies swarming your stomach! A bright red blush danced across your face as your hands twitched desperately wishing you had something to fiddle with to help distract you from the scene before you. Niki’s eyebrow raised as she turned to look at you

“what the heck is-“ she cut herself off noticing your blush and fidgeting hands “y/n are you alright?” You suddenly snap your head over “w-what? What? Oh yea I’m fine it’s nothing” she looks at you curiously “Did that almost make you laugh? Because your face is really red, I wonder who would send something like that in probably just some really random fan” suddenly discord started going off, Niki quickly paused the media shares and switched to discord to see who was calling… you felt more and more butterflies swarming already having a good idea of who it probably was… and suddenly you heard the voice and your face went even redder… it was none other than your brother like best friend Quackity…

“NIKI! Y/N!” He excitedly shouted as he smiled happily but the smile quickly turning into a more devious smile as he looked at the two of you, Niki smiled happily with some surprise as she titled her head slightly “Hi Quackity! What’s up?” He glanced towards you as he spoke “oh nothing just came to tell Y/N they’re welcome for that little video I sent in” he giggled slightly as he saw your head fall into your hands as more embarrassment over took you, you staying silent for now not trusting your voice to properly from words. Niki’s mouth gaped slightly in surprise “you sent that?! What was it about anyways? Is it some kind of inside joke or something?”

Quackity smirked slightly “I’m sure you could call it something like that right Y/N?” You whined slightly “Alex if you don’t shut up right now-“ he snickered softly “what if I don’t shut up what you gonna do?” You whined again “I’ll figure something out I don’t know what but something” Niki looked from you to Alex “Would one of you please explain the joke” though he’s been teasing you he was carefully watching your body language for any signs of discomfort or need for him to stop the entire time and he only looked harder and longer before deciding on his next move with this specific request, despite him seeing no discomfort or distress he decided to wait “well it’s not really an inside joke but more so of a secret, so I’ll wait until streams over I don’t wanna go spreading her secrets in front of the whole internet” Niki nodded in understanding “that’s understandable, do you wanna stay on and do the challenge with us or do you want us to call you after stream?”

Quackity shook his head “no no it’s fine I’ve caused enough chaos for now, you guys call back after stream and I can explain everything” your blush stayed there same as your mind swirled with thoughts stomach filled with butterflies, you smiled slightly though very appreciative of Alex for not wanting to fully share your secret to everyone and instead just having some light fun! Niki nodded excitedly smiling “Sounds good! Bye Quackity!” He nodded as he smiled back “bye Niki! Bye y/n!” You nodded softly smiling as well, and so stream went on about another hour before Niki and you had broken twice and Niki broke the final time

Niki and you ended stream as your stomach still swarmed with anticipatory butterflies which only increased as Niki turned to you smiling excitedly “Ready to call back Quackity?” You nodded shyly as you covered your face and brought your knees to your chest curling up in flusterdness already, Niki excitedly clapped a small bit before quickly pulling up discord and calling Alex! He answered in almost no time at all “hi again Niki! Hi y/n!”

Niki giggled excitedly “hi Quackity! So what is it?! What’s the big secret!? If y/n’s okay with you telling it of course, don’t feel like you have to let him say it if you don’t want him to!” You lifted your head a bit as you smiled gingerly at her “It’s okay I trust you Niki he can say it I don’t mind it’s just… it’s just flustering is all” she smiled brightly as she awed and placed her hand delicately on your leg in a comforting manner “Awweee y/n I’m so glad you trust me that much it truly means a lot!”

You nod softly and motion for Alex to continue “Okay so why I sent that video is because I knew it would fluster y/n and why it flustered them is because they like being tickled” he smiled as he waited for Niki’s reply, her face broke into the biggest smile as she says “wait really?! That’s so cute! Y/n why did you never tell me?!” You shrug softly “it’s flustering and embarrassing and some people find it weird so it’s not exactly the kind of thing I’m open with often…” she pouted softly nodding understandingly “That’s understandable dear just know I think it’s very adorable and great”

You look at her with soft eyes as you smile tenderly at her “T-thank you…” you were never good with knowing how to respond to things like this, she nodded softly as she says “so is there any specifics I should know about this?” She turned towards Alex for answers not wanting to make you explain anymore than you have to, he nodded smiling happily “okay I can give you a small run down, the terms you need to know are a lee is a person who likes being tickled and ler is someone who likes tickling people, now y/n here is a switch! A switch is someone who likes tickling people and being tickled, they lean lee though usually preferring to be tickled but they’re usually fine with either.”

She nods carefully taking in all the information “Okay it’ll probably take me a little bit but I think I got that, anything else?” He continues smiling as he says “Hmm not really besides she likes using the stop light system when both being tickled and tickling, green means go,yellow means slow down and red means stop” she nods “That sounds easy enough to remember, okay so any tips on spots to go for?” He smirks slightly “well if I told you that would take away half the fun wouldn’t it y/n?”

You whine softly “shut up” he raises an eyebrow “oh you know I was thinking about leaving and just letting Niki handle everything on her own but maybe I do stay, maybe I stay around and help Niki out with the verbal side of things… the teasing side of things” your eyes widened as you shook your head no but you couldn’t help the excited and anticipatory grin that overtook your face, Niki nodded happily “I would love to have you stay an help!” “Well then let’s get started”

You smiled nervously as Niki slowly approached you “so what do I do first?” Alex shrugs a bit and says “Well usually I get them either when they’re standing or easily in a position where I can make them lay down so I’d say having them lay would be easiest way to do it and you can either sit on their waist or beside them whatever you guys would prefer” Niki nods as you slowly lay down on the floor, she takes a seat beside you “Anywhere you’d prefer me to start or not to start dear?”

You shake your head softly “no you can start anywhere…” you turn your head to the side feeling more and more giggles bubbling up and nearly spilling out, Niki carefully pokes your side making you jump and squeak softly she smiles as she does it again and again beginning to alternate sides making you squirm back and forth Alex laughs softly “yea poking their sides is always a good one especially when they’re working because they turn to you after about the third poke and they try and act all upset and annoyed but their cheeks are all puffed up and their nose all scrunched as they have the biggest smile and there face is a really nice pink and they just look so cute” Niki awes softly as you whine “ahahlleehexxx shuhush”

He shakes his head “nah that’s my whole point of being here is to tease you so I’m not gonna shush! Anyways poking is great I love it a lot because of what I just said but also all the squeaks they make! Squeezing is really great to and just normal scratching type motions just everything is great really” Niki nods as she begins squeezing your sides making you burst into non stop giggles “aaah nihihikkiii hehehehhahahahhahahah!” She tilts her head softly as she smiles at you “what I thought you liked this? Is it too ticklish hmm? Are you too ticklish I’m barely even doing anything I mean just imagine if I went” she paused her movements as she thought for a moment quickly scanning your body before deciding on her next target… that target just so happened to be one of your sweet spots your hips “here!”

You squealed and broke into loud laughter “EEP NOOHOHOTTT THEHHEERRRHEHHWHW NNIHIHIKKIHIHIHI” Alex smiled from where he watched nodding approvingly “Good job Niki you already found one of their sweet spots!” Niki smiled proudly but also curiously “How many do they have?” Alex thought for a moment “hmm well I think about three maybe five? Definitely three though but there’s two that are borderline sweet spots depending on the techniques”

You were blushing like mad as you laughed through his whole explanation, once his explanation finished Niki slowed to gently tapping your hips leaving you to giggle residually as you gratefully took in air “hehehahahahah” Niki smiled happily as one hand slowly ran through your hair “you doing alright dear?” You nodded shyly “yehehaha ihihimm gohohood” “that’s good I’m glad you’re having fun i’m having fun as well” Alex nodded softly “so am I, who knew I didn’t even have to be there to be able to affect you so much ” he smirked softly knowing very well he knew ages before now that he can very easily affect you despite not even being with you in person

Your giggles finally stopped as you groaned softly “oh shut up you’ve known this for ages don’t act like it’s some new knowledgeEEE” you suddenly squeal feeling Niki’s nails experimentally beginning to scratch at your stomach, having never felt such long nails on your stomach was a new feeling and much more ticklish than you expected! Niki’s eyes widened as she turned to Alex “Is this a sweet spot?” He looks at her as he says “It’s a semi sweet one usually depends on the technique you use, I guess long nails must tickle a lot more than short ones because usually tummy scratches just make them all melty and really softly giggly”

Niki nods softly “Awe that’s adorable, and yea I guess they do” You lay there giggling loudly suddenly squeaking when you feel one of her finger nails nearing your tum button “hahhahaHahhahahHheHEHHEhhahahahahahEEK nohohottt theHEHHE buhuhutohohonnn!” Niki grins softly “Awe why not? It looks so cute I just wanna poke it a little bit! And maybe scratch the knot at the bottom” Your blush is now beginning to spread to your ears as you shake your head “noohhoooo dohohhohonnttt ihihittlll ttihihihahhahahehe yyoouuu knohohoww whahahhattt” she nods “And that’s exactly why I wanna do it!” Alex nods “I think you should definitely do it Niki!” She smiles softly at him “I think I will!” You shake your head giggles already increasing at the mere thought… slowly she begins tracing a nail around your button making your giggles near soft laughter… and suddenly before you can even prepare yourself her finger dips in! Swirling around as her nail gently scratches the knot at the bottom!

You shriek before falling into full laughter “aAHh HAHAHHAHA NIHIHIKKIHIHI NOOHOHOHO AHAHHAA” Niki and Alex smile happily watching your squirm and laugh carelessly and joyfully, not wanting to fully tire you out just yet she stops after a few seconds. You lay there giggling residually as you catch your breathe “hohohoollyy cohohowww nnahahaiillss ahahhreehhe sohoho bahahaddd” Alex smirks slightly as he says “Well maybe I should grow mine out then or get one of those fake nail kits for when I tickle you” You whine softly as you say “shut up you wouldn’t do that” he snickers “watch me just wait and see next time we meet up” Niki giggles softly “I can message you later telling you what brand works the best!” Alex nods smiling “Thank you Niki I would very much appreciate that!” She nods, as you groan softly “I hate you both”

She gasps softly as she reaches out and squeezes the upper part of your side just below your bottom most ribs “Hey! That wasn’t nice I think you should apologize to us!” You squeal as your body jerks instinctively trying to curl up “EEP NO! Ihihi dohohonnttt whahahannnhahah!” Niki turns to Alex “Okay what’s the quickest way to make them apologize? We’ve been at this for a bit so I don’t wanna go too much longer seeing as we both know how they like to push themselves so much in everything else they do I can only imagine that that same mentality would carry over to this”

Alex nods “It definitely does carry over, well definitely I would say target that area you just squeezed, either squeeze some more or vibrations work really well there too also nibbles and raspberries there or there stomach just combining it all would probably be best, target one side with your hand and then the other and their stomach just nibble and raspberry and they’ll be apologizing and probably calling red very quickly” You grumbled softly about how you could take it and how Alex always underestimated you

Niki nodded taking everything in “Got it! Ready y/n?” You nod trying to seem unphased though your bright red cheeks and ears and your messy hair told a very different story “I’m ready!” Niki shakes her head “I don’t think you are but let’s go” she quickly leans down wasting not time starting to nibble and raspberry your left side as one of her hands vibrates into your right side and the other vibrates and squeezes your tummy! You scream before falling into your loudest laughter yet which after a hiccup eventually turns silent

“AAAHH AHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHHEHHEHEHEHAHHAHAHAHA *hic* …………….” Niki continues for only a few moments after your silent laughter began before stopping “Are you ready to apologize now?” You nod giggling and hiccuping softly “yehehhesss *hic* ihihihimmm sohohorryyy ihihihi *hic* dohohohnnttt hahah thehehe yoouuu *hic* guhuhyysss” Niki ruffles your hair softly “Well good because I don’t know what I would do if you did hate me”

Alex smiles softly “Yea if you hated me then who would I tease endlessly about their music taste and how terrible of a cook they are” he snickers softly as he says it and you shake your head smiling and rolling your eyes “I’m sure you could find someone, but no one would be able to live up to the same expectations so I guess I won’t hate you… for now” you giggle softly as he now rolls his eyes “yea yea whatever nerd, I gotta go but have fun okay? And come see me next!” You smile as you say

“Dude I haven’t even left yet and I would like to go home first before going anywhere else” he says “I know I know I just miss you is all, oh and Niki they’re a person of revenge so watch out!” You sigh softly “I miss you too, and he’s right you know” you turn to Niki grinning softly, her cheeks dust pink as she says “t-thanks for the warning” he nods “bye guys!” You and Niki wave as you tell him bye

And so with that the day ends