#// I am still working through my owed threads <3 //

[hellsmusing]

hello hello! like or comment if you want me to dive into your meme stash and send you something from one of my muse (lilith or jester.)

this is open for mutual and non-mutual.

[lostintrost]

closing time - pt. 3

masterlist

ao3 | wattpad

cw: eren jaeger getting me in my feelings, fingering, face-sitting, and ofc the sex that y’all have been waiting for (for damn near two years i am so sorry)

wc: 6.6k

part 1 | part 2 | epilogue

"This is your house?" you gawk as Eren pulls his car into the empty driveway.

"I know," he breathes out, running a hand through his hair like he's almost embarrassed. "It's kind of a lot."

He kills the engine, and for a second, the quiet feels thick between you. Your eyes roam over the sleek lines of the house—modern, with wide windows that glint in the low light. It suits him, somehow. All sharp edges and clean perfection.

"Didn't peg you for the fancy type," you say, arching a brow.

"I'm not," he insists, chuckling as he reaches over to unbuckle your seatbelt. His fingers graze your shoulder, lingering a little longer than necessary. "But I like nice things." His gaze drops to your lips, and there's that familiar heat simmering in his eyes. "And right now, you're at the top of the list."

He's out of the car before you can fire back some snarky retort, circling around to your side and opening the door for you. The gesture is oddly charming, especially coming from him.

You follow him up the walkway, your heartbeat thudding louder with every step. The front door swings open, and the cool, polished interior welcomes you in with the scent of cedar and something faintly sweet. You barely get a glimpse of the high ceilings and minimalist decor before his hands are on you again, tugging you close and backing you up against the closed door.

"Where were we?" he murmurs, his mouth already tracing a line along your jaw, making it very clear he hasn't forgotten anything you started back in the car.

"I think..." You tilt your head, giving him more access, your words shaky but teasing. "You were busy being reckless in a very public parking lot, and at a stoplight."

He chuckles, the sound low and shameless. "And you loved every second of it." His hands slide down your waist, fingers pressing just hard enough to make your breath catch. "But I figured I owed you something better than the front seat of my car."

"Oh?" you challenge, hands threading through his hair and tugging just enough to earn a sharp, appreciative hiss. "Guess I'll be the judge of that."

"Then I'd better make it good." His grin is downright wicked before he captures your mouth with his, the kiss rougher, deeper, like he's making good on a promise. And judging by the way your knees almost give out, he's succeeding.

Somehow, you make it down a hallway and through a door, the journey a blur of clumsy kisses and laughter breaking between heated gasps. His bedroom is as sleek and stylish as the rest of the house, but you barely notice. Not when Eren's pulling you against him again, his lips finding that sweet spot just below your ear.

"Still judging?" he murmurs, his voice ragged but teasing.

"Mm-hmm." You pretend to think about it, even as your pulse hammers in your veins. "Still deciding."

"Guess I'll have to work a little harder, then." His hands are already on the move, sliding under your shirt and making it very clear he intends to make good on that statement.

His hands push your shirt up, fingers grazing your skin with a deliberate slowness that feels more like a challenge than a caress. When you raise your arms to help him tug it off, his smirk deepens, the glint in his eyes pure arrogance.

"Guess you're not too mad about my reckless parking lot behavior, huh?" he taunts, letting your shirt drop somewhere on the floor.

"Mad? Maybe." You arch a brow, doing your best to sound unfazed even as his lips brush along your collarbone, sending sparks straight through you. "Still doesn't mean I'm impressed."

"Is that right?" His voice is all playful menace, hands tracing your sides, then dipping lower, dragging a shiver out of you that you can't quite hide. "Guess I'll just have to convince you, then."

"Bold of you to assume you can," you shoot back, but the words come out weaker than you'd like, your resolve already crumbling under his touch.

"Bold's kind of my thing." His grin returns, lazy and confident, just before he guides you backward until the backs of your knees meet the bed. He nudges you down, and you fall back with a surprised laugh that turns into a gasp when he follows, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

His mouth finds yours again, harder this time, like he's trying to erase any doubt you might've been clinging to. And damn if it isn't working. Your hands are already slipping under his shirt, tugging it upward, desperate to feel more of him.

He obliges, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside without a care. The moment his skin meets yours, your body arches into him, heat pooling low in your stomach.

"Still deciding?" he rasps, his lips brushing yours with every word.

"Maybe..." you whisper, though your hands are already exploring the hard lines of his chest, nails scraping just enough to make him groan. "But I've gotta admit, you're making a pretty strong case."

"Good." His mouth crashes against yours again, swallowing whatever retort you might've had left. And honestly, words feel pretty pointless right now.

Eren's hands roam over your body like he's determined to memorize every inch of you, his touch growing bolder with every passing second. The way his mouth moves against yours—hungry and unrestrained—makes your head spin.

Your hands are just as restless, fingers tracing the hard lines of his back before dipping lower, earning a low, breathless laugh from him. "Careful," he murmurs, eyes dark and half-lidded as he gazes down at you. "You keep doing that, and I might forget to pace myself."

"Maybe I don't want you to." The challenge slips out before you can second-guess it, your own impatience flaring hotter under his touch.

"God, you're trouble." His voice is rough, a mix of amusement and something far more primal. But the way he looks at you—like he's teetering between restraint and completely losing control—has you feeling dizzy.

His lips trail down your neck, sucking and biting just enough to make you gasp, your hands tangling in his hair to pull him closer. You can feel his smirk against your skin, shamelessly pleased with every sound he drags out of you.

"You keep pretending you're not impressed," he says, voice muffled against your shoulder. "But you're not doing a great job of hiding it."

"Who says I'm trying to hide anything?" you shoot back, though your voice trembles just a little.

“Oh, is that how it is?" He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze blazing with intensity. "Then stop holding back."

The words are both a dare and an invitation, and you don't hesitate to accept. You yank him down into another kiss, pouring every bit of frustration and desire into it. He responds in kind, his hands working at the remaining barriers between you with a determined, almost frantic edge.

Somewhere between fevered kisses and tangled sheets, you find yourself laughing again, the sound breaking free when his teeth graze a particularly sensitive spot.

"Still think you're in control, huh?" you tease, even as your body arches into his touch.

"Pretty sure I'm proving my point right now." His grin is devastating, his voice a roughened whisper against your ear. "But if you've got more arguments, I'm happy to settle them. All. Night. Long."

Eren's lips are everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder—each kiss and scrape of teeth leaving your skin tingling, nerves alight. His hands are busy, tracing slow, deliberate paths over your body that make it hard to remember how to breathe.

And yet, your mind is suddenly a chaotic mess, thoughts spiraling even as your body responds to him so effortlessly. It's dizzying how easily he gets under your skin, how every touch leaves you craving more. Maybe it's the way he's watching you, his gaze equal parts hunger and fascination, like you're something he's trying to unravel piece by piece.

It's overwhelming in the best and worst ways, the heat of the moment clashing with the jumbled thoughts crowding your head. You've been wanting this—wanting him—for what feels like forever. The teasing glances at work, the way his smirk always seemed tailor-made to piss you off and turn you on at the same time. And now, here you are, tangled up in his sheets, his hands working you over like he's got nothing but time.

But there's still that little nagging voice in the back of your mind, half-suspicious this is just some game to him. A way to blow off steam, a way to add another checkmark to his list of conquests.

"Hey." Eren's voice cuts through the haze, his fingers stilling where they'd been drawing lazy circles along your hip. His expression softens, a frown creasing his brow. "You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?" you manage, though your voice sounds a little too strained, a little too far away.

"The thing where you're a thousand miles away when you should be right here." His eyes search yours, curiosity tinged with something that looks almost like concern. "Where'd you go just now?"

You hesitate, caught between brushing it off and actually answering. But something about the way he's looking at you makes it impossible to lie.

"I was just... thinking." You force a laugh, but it comes out thin. "Maybe too much."

Eren's gaze softens, his thumb stroking gentle lines along your hip. "Should I be offended that I'm not keeping you properly distracted?"

"Guess you're not as impressive as you thought," you tease, but the words don't quite carry the usual edge.

He raises a brow, but instead of snapping back with another cocky retort, he leans down, his mouth brushing yours in a kiss that's somehow both playful and reassuring. "Well, I guess I'll just have to try harder, won't I?"

And then his hands are moving again, more focused this time, his touch coaxing your thoughts back to the present. Back to him.

Eren's hands slide over your skin, a little slower, a little more deliberate, like he's not just trying to drive you crazy but actually ground you. His gaze stays locked on yours, his intensity softened by something gentler, something curious.

"You're still thinking," he murmurs, lips brushing over your jaw as he speaks. "And I've gotta admit, I'm getting kind of jealous of whatever's got your attention."

You let out a shaky breath, the warmth of his body making it harder to keep hold of your own thoughts. "Just... overthinking. Bad habit."

"Want me to fix that?" he asks, voice dropping lower, teasing but sincere. His fingers trail down your stomach, pausing just above where you really want him. "Because I'm more than happy to make sure your mind's completely blank."

"Tempting," you admit, your body already reacting to his touch, hips tilting upward just a little. "But I don't think you can just... distract me out of my own head."

"Maybe not." His eyes narrow thoughtfully, though his hand doesn't stop its slow, torturous descent. "But maybe I can at least help you untangle whatever's going on up there."

His words take you by surprise. You expected him to brush past your hesitation, overwhelm you with pleasure until you couldn't think straight. But the way he's looking at you now—actually waiting for you to answer—throws you off balance.

"Why do you care?" you ask, voice smaller than you intended.

His fingers draw soft, maddening circles along your inner thigh, the touch light but still enough to make you tremble. "Because you're here with me," he says simply. "And you're not really here if your head's somewhere else."

The bluntness of his honesty has your heart doing weird, clumsy things in your chest. He could have kept pushing, could have kept teasing you until you broke. But instead, he's... asking.

You swallow, eyes flicking away from his for a moment. "I guess I'm just... wondering what this is. If it's just a way to blow off steam or if you're actually—"

"Actually what?" Eren's fingers stop their gentle torture, his hand settling warm against your thigh. "Interested? Because I'm pretty sure I've been throwing out every signal I've got that I am."

Your eyes snap back to his, searching for any hint of insincerity. But all you see is that stubborn confidence, softened by something that feels a little too real.

"So you're not just trying to add me to some conquest list?" you ask, half-joking but mostly not.

He snorts, his smile returning, but there's something almost serious in his gaze. "I'd be a pretty terrible player if I was, considering I've basically been throwing myself at you for weeks."

You feel some of the tension unraveling, your body relaxing a little under his touch. "I thought you just liked messing with me."

"I do." His grin is shameless, his fingers resuming their slow exploration, this time with more purpose. "But I like this even more." His mouth finds yours again, the kiss rough and needy, like he's trying to prove his point without words.

And it's working. The heat of his mouth, the way his hand finally slips between your thighs, fingers stroking you through your clothes with a pressure that leaves you breathless.

Your hips buck against his touch, your mind gradually giving up the fight to stay anywhere but here, tangled up with him. He feels it, too, the way your body responds so easily, so desperately.

"That's better," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

Eren's hand slips beneath your waistband, fingers dragging torturously slow over your bare skin. The anticipation alone makes your breath hitch, your body strung so tightly that even the lightest touch feels electric.

He takes his time, eyes never leaving yours as he tugs your pants down and off, his smirk returning when he notices the way your legs tremble just a little. You'd be embarrassed if his gaze wasn't so damn intoxicating.

"There we go," he murmurs, his hands settling on your thighs, thumbs sweeping along sensitive skin. "Already looking a lot more focused."

"Focused, huh?" You try to sound snarky, but the word comes out more like a whimper when his fingers press where you need them most, the pressure delicious and maddening.

"Mhm." His grin widens, one finger dragging along your folds with a precision that makes your entire body clench. "Or maybe I just like watching you fall apart for me."

"Cocky bastard," you gasp, but there's no real venom in the words. Just pure, raw want.

"Guess I'll take that as a compliment," he chuckles, leaning down to nip at your neck, his fingers working you over with just enough pressure to leave you squirming. "Still thinking too much?"

"Not exactly," you admit, voice shaky. But the truth is, your thoughts are still tangled up, not because of his touch but because of the question that's been burning in your chest for way too long. And suddenly, you can't keep it to yourself anymore.

"Eren," you start, your voice sounding foreign even to you. Desperate. "What... what are we?"

He freezes for half a second, his hand stilling against you as if your words hit him harder than anything else you could've said. But then his gaze sharpens, something unreadable flickering in his eyes before he lets out a slow, deliberate breath.

“What do you want us to be?" he asks, his voice steady but somehow raw, like he's not used to letting himself be this honest. "Because I'm good with whatever you want, as long as I get to keep you like this. With me."

The confession lands heavy and hot between you, leaving your chest tight and your head spinning. "You're serious?"

His fingers resume their teasing, this time with a gentleness that feels almost reverent. "Dead serious." His mouth finds yours again, the kiss softer than before but just as consuming. "I'll be whatever you want me to be. Just... don't push me away, yeah?"

The sincerity in his voice makes something in you crack wide open. And suddenly, all the doubt and hesitation feels so small compared to the way he's looking at you.

"Okay," you breathe, your hips rolling into his touch, chasing the heat only he can give you. "Just... don't stop."

"Wasn't planning to," he growls, lips ghosting along your neck as his fingers press deeper, his touch merciless and perfect.

His words leave you reeling, the sincerity in his gaze crashing through your defenses like it's nothing. It's dizzying, the way he switches between that arrogant charm and this unfiltered honesty, like he's actually trying to meet you where you are instead of just dragging you wherever he wants.

But whatever he sees in your expression seems to satisfy him, because his mouth is on yours again, fierce and unapologetic, like he's claiming you now that you've let him past your walls. His fingers work you over with the kind of precision that has your breath hitching, all your senses tunneling down to nothing but him.

"See?" he murmurs against your lips, the heat of his breath making you shiver. "Feels better when you just let go."

You want to snap back with something clever, something that'll wipe that smug grin off his face. But the words dissolve before you can even form them, replaced by a choked gasp as his fingers curl just right, pulling a moan from deep in your chest.

"There it is," he breathes, his tone thick with satisfaction. "Sounded like you were holding that one back."

"Maybe I was," you pant, nails digging into his shoulders as you try to steady yourself. "Maybe you're just not as good as you think."

Eren laughs, a low, breathless sound that vibrates against your skin. "I think you're full of shit." His fingers quicken their pace, dragging another desperate, broken sound from your throat. "But I'll take it as a challenge anyway."

His mouth is everywhere—kissing, biting, soothing—his free hand sliding over your body like he's trying to learn every inch of you by touch alone. The sensation is maddening, pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core until it's all you can do to hold on.

And he knows it. Knows exactly how to keep you balanced on that edge, his name falling from your lips like a prayer you can't help but repeat. It's too much and somehow not enough, and when your hips roll up against his hand with a desperation you can't hide, his grin returns, wild and all too pleased.

"Guess you're not so focused anymore," he taunts, voice dripping with that same wicked arrogance. "Think I've finally got your attention?"

“Shut up," you groan, but it's useless when your body is already arching into his touch, chasing the pressure, the heat, the release he's been building up so mercilessly.

He chuckles, leaning down to capture your mouth again, his kiss deep and all-consuming. And when his fingers hit that perfect spot, over and over, the world just... blurs.

You're falling apart beneath him, pleasure tearing through you with a force that leaves your mind blank, the only thing keeping you grounded is the way his voice rumbles through you, coaxing you through the overwhelming rush.

"God, you're gorgeous like this," he whispers, his forehead pressing against yours as you struggle to catch your breath. "Completely mine, even if it's just for tonight."

His words hit you harder than they should, but there's something about the way he says it—so raw, so unfiltered—that makes you believe him. Maybe even want him more.

But there's still a question clinging to your chest, refusing to be silenced even now. "And after tonight?" you ask, your voice a shaky whisper. "What then?"

Eren's gaze sharpens, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your thigh now, his touch still maddeningly gentle. "Like I said, I'll be whatever you want me to be." His thumb strokes your skin, a soothing contrast to the wildness still buzzing under your skin. "If you want me to be more than just a one-night thing, say the word. I'm not going anywhere."

Your heart stutters, the last remnants of doubt crumbling under the weight of his honesty. And suddenly, it doesn't feel so terrifying to let yourself fall.

His words settle over you, warm and heavy, leaving you feeling stripped bare in a way that has nothing to do with your lack of clothing. It's the way he's looking at you—like he's daring you to believe him, to reach out and take what he's offering.

"Say the word," he repeats, his voice low and rough, thumb tracing slow, dizzying patterns against your thigh. "And I'm yours. For as long as you want me."

For as long as you want me. It echoes in your head, over and over, until it feels like something solid, something real. And the terrifying part? You believe him.

"Then don't let this be just tonight." The words spill out before you can second-guess them, your voice trembling with the weight of your own honesty. "I want... more."

His eyes flash, something dark and wild sparking there before his mouth crashes against yours, his kiss desperate and claiming. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say that," he growls against your lips, his hands already moving over your body like he's making up for lost time.

"Maybe I was just making sure you were worth the trouble," you manage to gasp, though the teasing edge in your voice shatters when his fingers slide between your legs again, slipping through your slickness with a touch that leaves you trembling.

"Pretty sure I'm worth it," he counters, the arrogance in his voice softened by the way he's looking at you—like you're something he's starving for. "But I'm happy to keep proving it."

You don't bother answering, your hands sliding over his bare chest, nails raking lightly over his skin just to watch his breath hitch. It's intoxicating, the way he reacts to you, how every little touch seems to affect him as much as he's affecting you.

"Take these off," you murmur, fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants and tugging pointedly.

He laughs, but it's a strained, breathless sound. "Bossy now, huh?"

"Consider it payback for all the teasing."

"Fair enough." He shucks off the rest of his clothes in one fluid motion, his gaze never leaving yours as he settles back over you, his body pressing against yours in a way that has your heart pounding all over again.

The heat between you is impossible to ignore, the ache low in your belly making your entire body thrum with anticipation. But there's more to it now, something deeper layered beneath all the lust and urgency.

He slides his hands under you, pulling you even closer until there's no space left between your bodies. His lips trail down your neck, his voice a rough, needy whisper against your skin. "Still with me?"

"Yeah," you breathe, your own voice barely more than a rasp. "Still with you."

"Good." He kisses you again, slower this time, like he's savoring every second. His hands are everywhere, touching and squeezing and mapping you out like he's trying to brand you into his memory. And you're doing the same, your hands moving over his back, his shoulders, every inch of him you can reach.

But then he's pulling back, his gaze raking over your body with a hunger that leaves you breathless. Before you can ask what's going through his head, he's shifting, rolling onto his back and tugging you along with him until you're straddling his waist.

"What are you—?"

"Come here." His voice is low, commanding, but there's a playful gleam in his eyes. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs drawing slow, possessive circles against your skin. "Want you to sit on my face."

The bluntness of his words sends heat blazing through you, your breath hitching as your eyes widen. "You—you want me to—?"

"Yes." His grin is shameless, but the way he's looking at you is anything but casual. "I want to feel you falling apart against my mouth. Think you can do that for me?"

The way his voice dips, thick and wanting, has your heart thundering. But there's still that hesitation clawing at you, a flicker of doubt you can't quite swallow down. "What if I... I don't know, what if it's too much?"

"Then I'll be in heaven." He tugs you forward a little, encouraging but not forcing. His gaze holds yours, the usual arrogance softened by something more genuine. "Seriously. Just let me take care of you. You trust me, right?"

The vulnerability in his tone sends your nerves scattering. "Yeah," you admit, your voice trembling just a little. "I trust you."

"Good." His hands slide up to your thighs, squeezing gently. "Now stop overthinking and let me make you feel good."

You swallow hard and let him guide you, your knees settling on either side of his head. Eren's eyes practically darken as he looks up at you, his fingers digging into your thighs like he's trying to keep himself steady.

"Perfect," he murmurs, his voice thick with anticipation. "Just like this." And then his mouth is on you, hot and demanding, his tongue working over you with a precision that leaves you reeling.

The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure rocketing through you so fast it nearly steals your breath. One hand flies to the headboard for support, fingers curling around the wood with a desperation that feels almost primal. The other tangles in Eren's hair, clutching tight as if anchoring yourself to reality.

The groan he lets out when your fingers tug at his hair sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through you, his mouth working over you with even more fervor. His tongue moves with a precision that borders on ruthless, alternating between broad strokes and sharp, targeted pressure that has you grinding down against him before you even realize you're doing it.

He doesn't just take your eagerness in stride—he revels in it. His hands tighten on your thighs, pulling you down even harder against his mouth as if he wants to drown in you. And the shameless, hungry sounds he's making only push you closer to the edge, your own ragged moans blending with his like you're both chasing the same high.

"Eren—" His name spills from your lips, wrecked and breathless, but it only seems to spur him on. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you steady even as your hips rock against his mouth, chasing the pleasure he's building with brutal, merciless precision.

"That's it," he growls against you, the vibration of his voice sending shivers through your entire body. "Don't hold back. Give me everything."

The desperation in his voice, the pure, unfiltered need blazing in his eyes as he looks up at you, it all sends you careening over the edge. Your release crashes through you, your body going taut, trembling, as pleasure shreds through your nerves in powerful, relentless waves.

Your grip in his hair tightens, a broken cry tearing from your throat as your head tips back, your vision whiting out from the sheer intensity of it. It's too much and somehow not enough all at once, your body shaking as the pleasure pulses through you, refusing to let you go.

Eren doesn't ease up, his tongue still working over you, dragging out every last tremor until you're nothing but a wrecked, gasping mess, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath.

Finally, when you're practically whimpering from the oversensitivity, he pulls back, his breathing ragged, his lips glistening with evidence of what he just did to you.

"Holy shit," you breathe, your voice barely more than a wrecked whisper.

Eren laughs, the sound low and deeply satisfied. "Pretty sure that's the reaction I was going for."

"Pretty sure you just killed me," you manage, a shaky laugh bubbling out of you.

"Then I guess I'll have to revive you." He drags you against him, his mouth crashing against yours in a messy, heated kiss that leaves you trembling all over again. His hands are everywhere, touch possessive and greedy, like he still hasn't had his fill of you.

“Still want me?" he rasps between kisses, his voice strained but threaded with that teasing edge that's somehow more endearing now than infuriating. "Because I'm nowhere near done with you."

"Yes," you gasp, the word tumbling out of you without hesitation. "Just—don't stop."

"Wasn't planning to." But even as he says it, he pauses, his hand leaving your body for a frustrating moment as he reaches over to the nightstand. His gaze never leaves yours, a smirk curling his lips even as he tears open the condom wrapper with his teeth.

Before you can complain about the sudden lack of contact, Eren's hands are on you again, his grip firm as he maneuvers you effortlessly. In one fluid motion, he rolls you onto your back, his body pressing you into the mattress as he settles between your legs.

Eren's body presses you into the mattress, the weight of him settling over you like a challenge and a promise all at once. His mouth is on yours again, rough and hungry, like he's determined to reclaim every piece of you. And you let him, your fingers tangling in his hair, your hips already arching up to meet the heat of his body.

"Better," he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick and low. His hands roam over your skin, his touch both possessive and painfully gentle. "Now I can really make you fall apart."

You're already trembling under him, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. But he's still taking his time, his fingers tracing your curves, his mouth moving along your jaw, your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that somehow feel more like marks of ownership.

"Eren..." His name slips out like a plea, your body practically vibrating with anticipation.

He laughs softly, the sound rich and satisfied. "Impatient now, huh?" His fingers glide over your thigh, squeezing gently before hooking your leg around his waist. "Guess I'll have to fix that."

He leans back just enough to roll the condom on, his gaze never straying from yours. And when he settles against you again, his hand slipping between your bodies to tease you with slow, deliberate strokes, you can't help but shudder beneath him.

"God, you're so perfect like this," he breathes, his tone ragged but laced with genuine awe. "All mine."

The possessiveness in his voice should be infuriating. But instead, it sends a fresh wave of heat surging through you, your hands clutching at his shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you grounded.

"I'm yours," you gasp, the words falling from your lips before you can second-guess them. But you don't regret it. Not when the admission makes something almost desperate flash across his face.

"Say that again," he growls, his hips pressing forward just enough to have you arching up against him.

"I'm yours, Eren." The words tumble out easier this time, wrecked and breathless, but full of certainty. "Just—please."

He doesn't make you wait. With one fluid, devastating motion, he thrusts into you, the sudden fullness stealing the air from your lungs. Your body arches beneath him, a choked moan tearing from your throat as he sets a rhythm that's both ruthless and perfect.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice breaking on the words. His forehead drops to yours, his gaze locked on your face, like he needs to see every reaction he's pulling from you. "Like you were made for me."

His pace quickens, each thrust hitting deep, the intensity of it leaving you trembling. One of his hands finds yours, his fingers threading through yours and pinning your hand to the mattress, his grip somehow both gentle and unyielding.

The raw intimacy of the gesture sends your pulse skyrocketing, the pleasure already building to an unbearable peak. But Eren's not done. His free hand slides between your bodies, his thumb rubbing slow, torturous circles against your most sensitive spot.

"Come on," he urges, his voice nothing but a ragged whisper. "Let me feel you fall apart. Just for me."

The plea in his tone, the sheer, desperate need driving his touch, is enough to shatter whatever composure you have left. The tension inside you coils impossibly tight, your entire body locking up as pleasure rips through you like a tidal wave.

You cry out his name, your head tipping back against the pillows as your body clenches around him, trembling and wrecked and utterly lost in the way he's making you feel. It's too much and somehow still not enough, your mind blanking out under the force of your release.

But Eren isn't finished. Not even close.

"Fuck—look at you," he groans, his voice thick and desperate, his rhythm faltering but never stopping. "So damn gorgeous when you fall apart for me."

Your body is still shuddering from the aftermath, oversensitive and dazed, when his hands slide down to your legs. His grip is firm, determined, as he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and presses the other flat against the mattress.

The new angle is devastating. His next thrust hits deeper, harder, the sensation so intense it has you keening, your entire body arching off the bed.

"Oh my God—" The words rip from you, strangled and wrecked, your fingers clawing at the sheets as he drives into you with a force that leaves you breathless.

"Yeah?" Eren's grin is wild, his eyes blazing with satisfaction as he watches you fall apart all over again. "You can give me one more, can't you?"

"I-I can't—" you gasp, but the words sound hollow even to your own ears because your body is already reacting to him, the pleasure building with terrifying speed.

"Yes, you can," he growls, his voice all heat and hunger. "I can feel it. You're so fucking close."

He's not wrong. The new angle, the relentless pace, the way his fingers dig into your thigh to keep you exactly where he wants you—it's all too much. And when he shifts his hips just right, driving into you with perfect, brutal precision, your vision goes white.

You shatter beneath him, your release ripping through you even harder than before, every muscle locking up as pleasure tears through your veins. Your nails drag along his back, your voice breaking on his name as he wrings every last tremor from your body.

"Fuck—" His own control snaps the moment he feels you clench around him, his thrusts turning frantic, erratic, his breathing nothing but rough, desperate pants. His head falls forward, forehead pressing against your knee as he comes undone, his groan muffled but raw, the sound of it sending a fresh thrill through you.

His body collapses against yours, his chest heaving as he fights to catch his breath. And for a moment, neither of you moves, both of you tangled up and trembling, the air between you thick and heavy.

But even now, his hand stays on your thigh, his grip gentle but unyielding. Like he's making sure you're still there. That you're real.

Eren's body stays draped over yours, heavy and comforting, his breath ragged and uneven as he slowly comes down from his high. His forehead rests against your knee, his fingers still wrapped around your thigh like he can't quite bring himself to let go.

Neither of you speaks at first, the silence broken only by the sound of your labored breathing and the faint rustle of sheets as he finally eases your leg from his shoulder and lowers himself beside you.

His touch turns gentle, almost reverent, as his hands trace soothing lines along your hips, your stomach, anywhere he can reach. It's such a sharp contrast to the rough intensity of moments before that it leaves you feeling strangely unsteady. Like you're floating somewhere between bliss and disbelief.

"Hey." His voice is soft, threaded with concern. His fingers brush against your cheek, coaxing your gaze back to his. "You still with me?"

"Yeah," you whisper, a shaky laugh slipping out before you can stop it. "Barely."

He grins, that familiar cocky spark flickering in his eyes, but it's tempered by something much gentler. "Good. Because I was starting to worry I actually broke you."

"Almost." You smile back, your body still thrumming with the aftermath of everything he's just put you through. "But I'm definitely not complaining."

"Better not be." His thumb traces the curve of your jaw, his gaze steady and impossibly earnest. "Because I meant what I said earlier. About this not being just tonight."

Your chest tightens, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm, reassuring blanket. "You really meant that?"

"Yeah." His voice drops lower, his expression turning serious. "I don't just want you in my bed. I want you. All of you. As much as you're willing to give."

The honesty of his admission leaves you speechless, your throat tightening around words you can't quite manage. You've spent so long convincing yourself that he was just looking for a good time, that his flirtation was all surface-level arrogance. But there's nothing shallow about the way he's looking at you now.

"What if I'm a mess?" you murmur, your own voice trembling. "What if I overthink everything and make this harder than it needs to be?"

"Then I'll just have to keep you distracted." His smile is soft, teasing, but there's an intensity beneath it that makes your pulse race all over again. "And if you overthink? I'll be right here to remind you how good we are together."

"Just like that, huh?"

"Just like that." His fingers thread through yours, his grip warm and reassuring. "Unless you're telling me you don't want this."

"No," you say quickly, your own grip tightening around his. "I do. I just... I guess I needed to hear that you weren't going to disappear once this was over."

"I'm not going anywhere." His voice is steady, his gaze locked on yours with a sincerity that leaves no room for doubt. "So if you want this to be more than just a one-time thing, then it's more. Simple as that."

The simplicity of his answer sends a rush of warmth flooding through you, easing away the last lingering traces of doubt. "Okay," you breathe, your shoulders relaxing as the tension seeps out of you. "I want that, too."

Eren's smile returns, that familiar cocky edge softened by something almost tender. "Good. Because I was already planning on keeping you."

The words are spoken with such casual certainty that you can't help but laugh, your body finally relaxing under the warmth of his touch. "Guess you're stuck with me, then."

"Sounds like a win to me." His fingers trace idle patterns along your bare skin, his touch gentle and soothing. "You wanna stay the night?"

The question shouldn't catch you off guard, but it does. Because it's one thing for him to say he wants more—it's another to invite you to stay, to make it clear this isn't just some one-time conquest.

"Yeah," you say softly, your own fingers drawing lazy circles along his arm. "I'd like that."

He leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips that feels almost too intimate, too real. But you kiss him back just as fiercely, letting yourself fall into the warmth of him, the safety of his arms.

banner creds: @saradika

[future-dregs]

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs

Tagged by @paranoidxbastard

How do you people have so few WIPs?! I envy your ability to complete! Or at least restrain yourselves!

And The Blood Ran Red

Aside From Any Other

B&B pt 3

Begging For Thread

Bookworm Bibliophile Boy

Bites Back

Blue For Me, Yellow For You

Bond

Breathe With Me

Brittle

By The Very Thought Of You, I Am Warmed

Cut Off Your Left Arm

Death Of A Hero

Devour You Whole

Falling Home

Forgive Us, Father When We Cannot Forgive Ourselves

From The Unseen Wife

Guess Monster's Proxy

I'll Eat You Whole (I love you so I love you so)

I Think You're Pretty

It's An Angry Summer

It's As They Say, The Heart Beats Asunder

Kinktober - Bark Like You Want It

Kinktober - Good Golly, Miss Molly! (Kiss The Blade That Loves You)

Kiss Me, And See

LOV- Big Sis

LOV - Boss

LOV - Care For A Smoke?

LOV - Magic Man

Lucky People

Monsters Do Not Weep

Office Sex

Ow! I'm All Shook Up!

Phallic Imagery

Pick Up Your Socks, Dumbass!

Popped Cherries Bleed Red

Red Eyes, Can't Lie

Reflecting Your Light

Sharp, Quick Love

Sorry I Came Back Wrong, Do You Still Wanna Hit It?

Take My Hand, And Lead Me Out Of The Dark

Taking Care Of You Like I Ought

The Softness In You, Calls Out To The Brokenness In Me

This World Is Still A Living Hell (But With You Its More Bearable)

Through The Phone

To The Man I Once Would Follow

Untitled Document 1

Wet Dream

Whatever I Say (Salt)

When I Was Yours

You, and You, and Me

So as you can see, its ridiculous.

Some of these have been in the works for a few years now, and a couple were just added today actually.

Tagging @nitghowl1600 @radellama @mossterious @biromantic-nerd @righteousriot and anyone else who writes and would like to talk about it. You're it! ^_^

[naviculariis]

Okay so. Serious post time. I'm gonna put this entire thing under a cut, but I'm also gonna post some TWs here: medical malpractice, uncertain diagnoses, family trauma / drama, grief, anxiety rambles???

But I am gonna take like. A semi-hiatus, just so I can catch up on what I owe.

I haven't talked about this over here, or on Tumblr in general. Only one person who follows me here knows about this bc we're friends on another platform.

So.

Y'all have noticed, my days don't follow a set schedule. I've been unemployed since my campus suddenly closed with very little warning back in '22. Immediately after that closing, we took a small trip to MS to be with family for Christmas, and that trip was... Bad. And on the 1st of last year, I had an accident- i was taking down Christmas lights and fell and busted open my head. I had an untreated, late diagnosed concussion thar no one really... followed up on, and have had slight memory loss even now from it.

So I couldn't work until my head healed up from that.

But that's not the medical thing. That is my mother. In October 2021, my mother went in for a routine stint placement that resulted in loss of almost total blood flow to her left leg for 36 hours. They almost had to amputate, she almost died on the table twice, she was hospitalized for a year. ( we've tried the legal route, but because the doctor never admitted fault on paper, he cannot be held liable & suing hospitals is... Difficult. Even though she has permanent damage, can no longer feel anything below the knee, and has to wear a brace to walk. ) My mother already had a weak heart to begin with due to years of smoking + cardiac disease. This was the first nail, essentially. This damaged her heart... a lot.

Back to the concussion. 4 days after my concussion, she had a massive heart attack that nearly killed her. She flatlined twice on the table. It was after this that we got confirmation that she is in congestive heart failure. My grandfather died from it. It's

... It's hard. We don't know which stage she's in because her cardiologist won't tell us, but we think she's in stage 2, or maybe 3. We don't know. But because of this, I am the one who takes care of 95% of everything around the house & outside. I do lawncare, I do the planting, I do the garden. She can do a lot, still, but when her heart gets going- it's painful. So I've been her caretaker since 2021 when the initial accident happened.

My grandmother is nearly 90 and has... Many health problems but somehow is also doing better than most folks I know. She's a mystery. And my aunt had a double knee surgery but somethings wrong with her knees, and they think the surgeries rejected, so she can't get around well or drive longer than an hour away. My grandmother no longer drives & isn't renewing her license. My mother can drive, but we don't want her to unless ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY.

So I'm the only one who can drive them around.

I have my own medical issues [ anxiety, depression, type 1 diabetes, cracked tailbone that never got treatment & is giving me hell for that- ]

So. Basically. A lot of my time isn't my time. And when I do have free time, I do try to write and chat as much as I can. At night, after I get mom to bed, I call my partner warner and we get a few hours together and then we have to go to sleep bc we're in a ldr & their timezone is an hour ahead of mine.

... I'm rambling.

It's just. It's hard sometimes. And a lot of the time I sort of sit on my back porch and cry because I'm doing this- physically- alone. Literally everyone else is 4+ hours away across the state. Or 9 hours south on the Gulf Coast, or 7 hours south in Louisiana.

I do try to stay on top of things the best I can, I really really do, but things slip through my fingers. I'm gonna try my best to get all caught up over this coming week, I think. But if my responses are delayed for threads, for discord messages- chances are, I'm busy with one of my lil ol' ladies.

On top of all of this, I live in a town of less than 900, the nearest city is 45 minutes in any direction, and the nearest BIG city is 2+ hours in any direction. Finding a job that isn't in Healthcare is impossible. And I have nothing against those who are in healthcare- I applaud you. But all of my trauma can be tied back to hospital ERs and any time I step foot into a hospital, I immediately have anxiety & can only hear the night we learned about my dad. So I physically cannot force myself to go into that field.

Which is... a whole other thing, this is getting too long. But I've been searching for a job for the past year and a half, have had 5 interviews, each one ended with "thanks for interviewing! However,". It's hard.

So I just.

My plate is a lil bit full. But I love writing. I love the rpc. It'sa comfort and a joy and I love meeting new friends and making new connections and I want to do this as long as I can but sometimes things get a little slow. That's all.

... anyways yeah. Semi hiatus. Cool.

[hermewnie]

ATLA Actors AU - Initial Screen Test (p.3)

“Tone down the scowl, Zuko,” Jee mutters to him. “You know how important first impressions are for the screen tests.”

Zuko shoots a dark look at the man, but he smoothens his face anyway. He’d been a touch prickly in the last test, and the girl had been too intimidated to really throw herself in.

King Bumi steps back in through the door, followed by the next girl trying her hand at Pai Li. Yagoda closes the door, shutting the set back into its half-lighted atmosphere. 

Yagoda smiles kindly at the girl and motions for her to stand on the marked position on the floor, placing her in front of the prop dumpster and cart. Zuko assesses her from where he’s slumped in his chair. Like all the girls, she’s pretty. Her brown hair cascades down her back, except for a lock brought over each shoulder to frame her face. Her nose crinkles just a bit as she follows Yagoda’s cue to turn so that her back faces the camera. 

“Alright,” Bumi wheezes. “So we’re going to have you taking the bags out of the cart and putting them in the dumpster when Bu Sho bursts into the alley. It’s going to startle you a bit, and we’ll have our little…meet-cute!”

The cameras begin rolling, and no sooner has the crewman snapped out, “Action!” before Zuko bursts into the alley and attempts to shove past the crowded dumpsters. Pai Li turns with a gasping whirl and launches whatever was in her hands at him. Hard. It hits Zuko squarely in the jaw, and he crumples to the floor.

“Ow, fuck, what?!” Zuko has broken from the script. He’s supposed to shrug this off and make a little quip about how the girl could fight off a battalion of soldiers with just her arm. But it wasn’t actually supposed to hit him, and Zuko’s still reeling on the floor.

“Oh my god!” 

The girl rushes over to where he is. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to actually hit you! Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he yelps before wincing. He certainly doesn’t sound okay.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats before gently grabbing at his jaw and turning his head to look at where he was hit. The worried look in her eyes is a little flattering.

“Does it look bad?” he asks.

“Um, no. I think it’s fine. It’s really red though, I’m so sorry.” Despite her assurances, a thread of real worry is braided into her tone. Her palpable concern washes away any annoyance he might feel and replaces it with something warmer unfurling in his chest.

Jee comes over, and the girl breaks away. Her dark eyes drop with guilt, and Zuko rubs at his jaw distractedly. 

“Hmm,” King Bumi hums. “No harm, no foul. Let’s carry on the scene with Pai Li running to check on Bu Sho. Then you two can just improv your way back to the script.”

“Bumi, maybe we should get Zuko some ice,” Yagoda cuts in.

“No, no, we’ll lose the organicness of the moment! Zuko, you’re all fine, right?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Just stunned me a little, but I’m fine. Doesn’t even hurt.” He’s absolutely lying. His jaw’s throbbing like mustard seeds in hot oil, but the girl looks a bit less stricken, and King Bumi does have a point. Zuko doesn’t need to be a screenwriter to know what Bu Sho would do. 

“Excellent. Pai Li, I want you to treat the script more like an outline than, well, a script. I want to see your interpretation of Pai Li and how you’ll take things. And of course, Bu Sho, follow the script more strictly, but take her lead. Do what you can to work things meaningfully in with how we want the script to go.” 

The girl nods like that makes perfect sense, and Zuko fights his internal sigh. It wasn’t exactly hard to improv with a character like Bu Sho, but having multiple people improv together? On a screen test? Exactly what someone like crazy King Bumi would want to see.

“Action!”

The guilty look drops from Pai Li’s face as though it was never even there, eyebrows furrowed in righteous indignation.

“That’s what you get for trying to rob a hospital. Shame on you!”

“Rob a hospital?” Bu Sho asks incredulously. “Lady, what? I don’t even know where I am. I was trying to walk away from certain harm, not get more bruises.”

Pai Li stiffens. “Oh. My apologies. We’ve been having issues with bandits. I thought, well, it doesn’t matter. Um, are you okay?” she gingerly steps around the dumpsters to him, folding her knees delicately under her as she peers at him. 

Sulkily, he rubs his jaws and looks away from her concerned eyes. “Yeah, it’s nothing. You’ve got an arm on you. Who taught you to throw like that?”

She laughs, and it’s a shaky, small thing. She hasn’t heard a thing he’s said. “Wow, it’s already swelling really bad. Maybe you should come inside so we can get your jaw looked at. It’s really red.”

He brushes her off. “Nah, I’ll be fine. I should get going.”

“No, please. I insist. It’s the least I could do after hitting you so hard.” She wipes her hands on her loose red skirt before standing and turning towards the back entrance. 

“Alright,” he rasps, getting up to follow. It won’t be long before the soldier he stole from realizes his bounty’s gone missing, and it would be smart to get some cover before then.

“Cut!” King Bumi barks. “Okay, we got enough for what we need. You two, to the break room. That’s enough filming for today.”

Zuko’s eyebrows ratchet up. There’s an entire other scene they’re supposed to test of Bu Sho as the Blue Spirit finding Pai Li crushed under crates which King Bumi has entirely decided not to have them do. Interesting. He walks out and registers that the girl is following behind. Right, she wouldn’t know where the break room is, he muses. 

“I’m really sorry about your jaw.”

They’ve reached the break room, and he seats himself on his usual armchair. “It’s no big deal. Kind of made the scene interesting.” His jaw still hurts, and it’s incredibly distracting.

She shifts guiltily before taking her own seat on another couch, and a random lady (one of Yagoda’s assistants, he thinks) comes in to shove a bag of ice before rushing it off. He presses it warily on his jaw and watches as the girl agitatedly worries her fingers where they’re twisted in her lap. Finally, she asks, “Do you know why they skipped the second test?”

“No,” he replies.

“Was it something they did with any of the other candidates?”

“Um, no.”

Her face falls, and she looks away.

“But,” he tries, “it probably doesn’t mean anything. King Bumi and Yagoda don’t actually need both tests to narrow down their picks. It could be a good thing.”

“Thanks,” she says, smiling at him, but it’s clear that she’s still worried which actually makes Zuko kind of feel bad. He obviously knows he’s got the role. And while King Bumi did tell her to improvise, there hadn’t been anything in the script about Pai Li fighting off robbers. Still, Zuko always feels personally responsible when faced with an upset girl, and he racks his brain for something - anything - that he could say to make her feel better. Eventually, he gives up. It would be worse to give her false hope. The grimy white refrigerator’s droning drowns in their silence as they wait.

This is part 3 of my fic, Picture Palace. Read more on my ao3!

[kxllerblond]

Hey besties, as you have likely noticed-—I haven't really been active. Truth be told, I had a pretty bad depressive low followed by some really bad burn out that left me unable to do anything more than a few scattered short things here and there and even those took a lot of like energy to push myself to do. I've been in a very frustrated and restless place with my blog in the aftermath of this.

My drafts are stressing me out. Knowing that I owe shit and can't remember with who or where we were in the thread is stressing me out and kind of hindering any attempts at coming back and trying to be active again. Coupled with the typical Tumblr RPC thing of more or less having to rebuild your blog engagement from the ground up again after taking more than a few days off is very energy-consuming.

With that being said, I want to come back and be active and consistent again. I refuse to give up on this hobby and I love my little bastard man still. However, I think I'm going to have to make some significant changes going forward to make that happen.

DRAFTS.

Unless we have a multi-note and plotted thread going, assume they have been dropped. It's just too much to try and track everything down and remember where I was going with a lighter thread months ago or whatever when I was replying to it initially. It's making me freeze up and so nothing is getting done. Following this post, I'm going to be working on fully culling my drafts and likes of any threads I owe.

ASK MEMES.

I am going to be leaning on these heavily. Not much is changing here as this is my usual. I just will likely not be posting any more starter calls or attempting plotting calls or liking them. I'm going to be 99.9% ask meme interaction orientated. Any plotted or long form shit is going to be naturally pursued when I'm interested or have ideas instead of trying to force myself for the sake of it or because I feel expected to as I have in the past.

NEW THREADS.

Here is where I'm going to lose some of you. I'm going to be a burst RPer more than I have been in the past. That means I am going to be relying on shorter note interactions that may get dropped pretty quickly. I'm going to rely on no pressure threads that we can just mention and build off of in new interactions. A quick but gradual development through shorter lifespan threads, if you will. Sort of like climbing a lot of stairs to a certain point of development instead of trying to climb one giant mountain of a single heavy plotted thread at a time.

Does this mean I'm not going to do ANY plotted point A to point B threads? Nah. I'm just going to be very, very selective with them and I'm going to need both of us to be at the same level of passion, ig. Plotted shit and long term shit takes A LOT for me to keep going and so I need both of us to be 100% interested in the story and each other's characters, etc. I think, at this time, I only have 2-3 of those threads/storylines active.

NEW FOLLOWERS, NEW INTERACTIONS.

I'm not going to close myself off completely to following new people or taking on new followers...but I am done more or less screaming at walls or low key begging people to stop being anxious or intimidated and interact with me. I'm mega anxious myself but I do the bare minimum of being the first to send a meme, to like interaction calls, etc. If I am doing this and being the one to make the first step and I still don't receive any sort of energy returned...I'm dipping. I don't have the time or patience anymore to play chicken with people or to coax them into threading with me and I've caused myself plenty of issues in the past by trying to stick it out in the hopes things change.

IN SUMMARY

I know this portrays me as that dreaded flake RPer who starts shit and never finishes anything. I am hoping dearly that building off these unfinished threads will compensate for that lack of long form threading. I am aware this is going to not track with some of you as it's not an RPing format that is compatible with everyone and I accept that and I totally get it if some of you stop reaching out or unfollow or whatever. However, I'm going to be doing what I need to do in order to actually BE here. I'd rather be a tad bit of a flake but still get something done and enjoy this hobby somewhat instead of just sitting here frozen and getting nothing done because I don't want to be seen as a flake or dissuade people from interacting with me further.

Thank.

[lovenliterature]

The Good Witch Thoughts

When I first heard the album I remember thinking there aren’t enough sad songs on here and then I entered a depressive spiral and HA I WAS WRONG (Sidenote i hate tumblr formatting)

1 - The Good Witch

Like the vibe 

“Still upset but I now I’m twenty-two” - I'm a sucker for an age lyric - especially the parallel with You Signed Up For This (“I am twenty and probably upset right now”) and the fact that it’s the titular song again

“Still bitter” - Reference to Details (love of my life <3), Reference to I’m Trying (Not Friends)

“The calm before the storm comes rushing through” - Harmony v pretty (around 30 secs) 

“Still King’s Cross and pullin’ heartbreak out of hats”- Love the reference to King’s Cross, her London references makes it feel so grounded and especially again it being a place in London I travel through it makes it feel like a new album and a specific album to me (still King’s Cross for a tiny little while longer). Also relating to Elvis song (“last train on the Northern line”) always moving through London, experiences anchored in London geography. Also love the ramping up of the music here

“Still argue like my mother and suppress stuff like my dad” - The pace on this line really shows the suppressing stuff lol

“Am I better yet?” - Change from You Signed Up For This “I know I’ll get better/I’m just not better yet" Questioning it now like I know I’ve changed but is it better? Am I at the point I want to be??

Instrumental outro and talking hurts my heart a bit? Very 3 am fucked up in a club

Fave lyric: “Still miss you, but I know now it’ll pass/Found some other muses, I give ‘em all my best”

2 - Coming of Age

Oohhh very Club vibe

“Couldn’t erase you like a tattoo on my waistline” - Really like this, tattoo is LESS permanent than your mark, really hits

Really vibey chorus

“I let you butcher my big heart” - So graphic and so ?? Beautiful 

Ngl this is all slapping so far

Fave lyric: “Baby I am the Iliad of course you couldn’t read me” (!!!!)

3 -  Watch

Oh no is this one gonna hurt

“Nobody actually happy and healthy/has ever felt so desperate to prove it” - OOF

Yep I was right hurts my heart but a bop

“You’re being a superstar and all I got are victim cards” - This reads like being on the other side of Sk8r Boi by Avril Lavigne

“For a girl who’s a remix of me” - So interesting because a remix isn’t necessarily *better* it’s just *different*, like it mixes up all the components into something he likes more but it isn’t objectively more appealing and that’s such a refreshing take

Fave lyric: “I don’t think I wanna get better" - YSUFT reference, love the thread of getting better

4 - Body Better

A BOP

And really hurts

I am a sucker for happy sounding songs with fucked up lyrics

Music is so personal for me and this one is such a reclamation even though it’s so sad

“obedient blue eyes” - This line is AMAZING. The pauses. The lyricism. The casualness. *chefs kiss*

Such a good single choice bc it’s such an easy listen but so brutal so captures heartbreak and bops and also u wanna listen over and over

“Tell me just one more lie” - Come on just use your shitty lies to save my dignity this once instead of ripping it to shreds

Fave lyric: “When you touched it were you sorry like you weren’t at the time”, “The worst way to love somebody is to watch them love somebody else and it work out” or “Do you love her/when you’re twisting up all her sheets do you suffer”

5 - Want You Back

Oh no

Pretty humming

“The darling of your passenger side” - ooof such a beautiful gentle encapsulation of such a classic theme

The piano in the chorus might make me cry

Oh god this is so raw and such a strong heartbreak song

“I must go out with a stranger and kiss him to get stronger” - oh god that feels like every experience of trying to get over someone and I just can’t do it and ow. It's the epitome of get under someone to get over someone but at the same time you don’t want to because you want them back and you should want to be fine alone but you just c a n ‘ t

I can tell this is gonna be a strong fave

Fave lyric: - “What was cheap to you, to me, was all I had”, “But baby, when you touch her, I bet she doesn’t flinch” or “So you gotta be coward and I salvaged a little self-respect" - This hurts so bad like if it was your friend you’d be screaming VALUE YOURSELF MORE but because it’s you, you just want back what you had

6 - The Band and I

“Came a boy and left a man” - love love it

So specific but also just feels like every friendship group I’ve ever had

It feels like laughing til you cry and your stomach hurts and being up at 3am dancing and deep chats and crying together and every little thing

“Haven’t thought of home twice” - feels like a hectic Cambridge time or any second and third week somewhere new when you’ve started to settle and everything is new and fun and you’re flying and you don’t wanna lose it

Fave lyric: “I'm twenty-one and I feel evergreen” - The way she sings this is so wistful, or “It was falling in love/in a gas station/by the pickup trucks” - Love the juxtaposition, love in the weirdest and most unexpected places

7 - You're Just a Boy (and I'm Kinda the Man)

“You’re kind of awful but you’re not awful on purpose” - Ugh you suck but you’re not even aware so it’s better and worse because how can I blame you but also how can you not know??

“I’m on a one way trip to take over the world/you could’ve come but your head’s in the sand” - Usually head in the sand is to avoid something shitty so it’s interesting to have it like this, like you’re so determined to ignore flaws that you miss all the joy

“But you pushed me out quicker than it took me to put my jeans on” - Oof that hit and feels like such shame but suddenly you’re like no if you’re not feeling like you’re the luckiest damn person then I’m gonna keep on going and you’ll see what you lost 

Fave lyric: “I take in clowns like a one-woman circus” or “Goodbye from the bigger man" - Reference to I’m Trying (Not Friends)

8 - Lost the Breakup

“Didn’t say it in those words but I know how your tone works” - Like okay yeah you can hide behind what you said but we both know what you meant

Another bop

Validating

The whole chorus damn

The repression and everything

"Right now I might be a mess" - accepting being fucked up and broken

This, Coming of Age and You’re Just A Boy (And I’m Kinda The Man) have been such a u know I’m gonna be fine and ur heartbreak will come when u see me thrive 

Such a vibe and such knowledge of ur worth

I love the dancing up but it’s such a revenge fantasy of mine like esp mid transition it was such a it gonna see me and not recognise me and want me and I’m not gonna care because I moved on and grew for me and I’m mine and you can’t have me

Fave lyric: “So, I'm feeling and I'm dealing/With the heart you broke/While you do press-ups and repress us/And take off her clothes, oh” - Okay yeah you pretend u don’t care and get over me with someone else, I’ll be here actually processing it and actually getting ready to move on

9 - Wendy

Oooh not what I expected

I’m such a damn sucker for literary refs (this, wonderland, cardigan, the classical references in Coming Of Age and History of Man)

“You’re evasive on the phone til you’re sorry on the floor” - oh holy FUCK 

“We could live off of magic and maybes” - that’s so pretty

Like the second chorus changing to add “So I'll lock the window and turn on the AC/You'll throw your rocks and you'll scream that you hate me/But it gets old being forever twenty” - YES like being forever young for a man is not worth it

“What about my wings” - The way she sings this is *chefs kiss*

“It’s a life I could have, I know“ - but I am worth MORE and I know it YES

“If I’m not careful I’ll wake up and we’ll be married” - We’ll be married and I’ll be terrified and it’s so easy to be caught up in you

big fave ugh

Fave lyric: “Behind every lost boy is always a wendy” or “what about my wings? What about Wendy?”

10 - Run

“I’ve heard some things that I will leave unrepeated" - ooooh

Oh my god the chorus is beautiful and Such a bop I want to dance to it in a club

I love that it’s just like fuck it no this is not gonna go well

Like it’s very if it’s a bad sign the get out but also even if it’s a good sign get out lol

Fave

Fave lyric: “Run as fast as you can/take a quick sharp turn at the sight of a man”

11 - Two Weeks Ago

Such a heartbreaker

“I wish we kissed when we first wanted” - We wasted so much time worrying about fucking things up and guess what they’re fucked anyway

Smart last single bc too deep for early single but something to hold onto

“A friend drove me/’cause you couldn’t do” - such a beautiful painting of the devastation of a breakup when you’re both broken, feels like good enough if it were mutual

“God I loved you babe did I tell you that?” - So sad second guessing yourself. also the harmonies here Kill me

Fave lyric: “I wish when we went to the beach that day/We’d taken more pictures/I’d been more brave" - I wish I had something tangible to hold onto but instead all I have are my faulty memories and I’ll be second guessing them for the rest of my life

“That last kiss/I didn’t look at you/but I wish I did” - If I’d known it was the last one I would’ve savoured it but I thought I had more to come but also some part of me must have known or I would’ve looked at you

12 - BSC

Not hearing a lot of lyrics on first listen ngl

“It wrecked my organs so pour the gin” - love it like you’ve already broken my heart so why not break the rest of me

Okay now I’m catching the lyrics I love them

Especially just full on committing to the image of being crazy and the lyrics and writing out ooooooh

Also all the swearing and just saying fuck this

Fave lyric: “Mister ‘I don’t want a label’/You made me little miss unstable” - Okay so you don’t want to be called something you’re not but nor do I and YOU did this to me. Obvious Mr Perfectly Fine link but also gives me illicit affairs vibe (Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby"/Look at this idiotic fool that you made me”)

13 - Therapy

Oh my GOD this is so funny and so good

Such a bop

“Oh Lord I’m going back to therapy” - Ooooof. Feels like okay you fucked me up but at least I’m self-aware - when are you gonna go to therapy bro? But also oh GOD I thought I’d changed but now you’re gone I’m exactly how I was

„Broke me like a curse“ - ooh like the subversion of breaking a curse here, like breaking a curse is usually a good thing and he’ll probably try to spin it like that but there’s no spin that can make that true

Fave lyric: “So, how come you’re taking me from your arms/back to therapy?”

14 - There It Goes

“I'm back in London, I'm running down Columbia Road” - Again, love the specific locations, feels so grounded and concrete

Ngl so far I feel like we’re missing some longer ones so I’m happy about this one being longer and I like the sad ish bop

“I made it to September” - oh man that feels like a real okay fine I’ve made it to the next year lets go again. But also like yeah fuck I reached this milestone I didn’t like I would and now this date is passed I don’t feel so broken

Fuck me I really like that this whole album is heartbreak but catharsis. Like want you back, this and watch are all sad but all elements of something 

“I’m young but I am aging” - I love that so much. Like yeah I’m young but I am getting older, I’m changing and growing and I’ll look back at this one day and laugh, I’m gonna make the most of being young but I’m not gonna be terrified of losing my youth

“I felt so far from the cliffs” - Like u know what people can love me and be proud of me and want to show me off

“The way I loved you, I will not be embarrassed of that/I should’ve just known when to quit” - YES!! Don’t be ashamed of loving someone but you can be sad for not calling it quits soon enough 

Also I love the way she sings it

Fave lyric: “The love we had was covered in snow” - Like Love Him I Don’t (“comin’ up roses/kickin’ up snow”), “The love we had was eatin’ me whole” - I had to rip myself away from that or “The loss is yours” - It feels so final and so confident

15 - History of Man

Oh the opening lines they’re haunting and beautiful also I love songs that reference Jericho 

“Tale as old as honey” - Sweet and ancient

“I tried to rewrite it but I can’t” - She keeps saying she’s the writer but some things you just can’t change

“You walked out, oh/without sweating” - It wasn’t even fucking hard for you to leave, to run away from us, to leave me in the dust and rubble

“I’ve seen it in the poems, in the sands” - In the sands of time, in the poems of the ancients, this isn’t new, this will all happen again

The storytelling and the distance?? Love it

“I would’ve made him weaker too” - Redemption and vindication (I beg u Maisie write a song referencing Medea). The way she sings it is so pretty!

It’s so unspecific but so resonant

“Women’s hearts are lethal weapons/Did you hold mine and feel threatened?” - Were you scared of what me loving you meant? Were you scared of opening your heart and being vulnerable?

"Hear my lyrics taste my venom" - this is such a thesis statement for the album

Beautiful album closer and think it will be a fave

Fave lyric: “Men start wars yet Troy hates Helen/womens’ hearts are lethal weapons”

[guiltypart]

Thoughts on Master Detective Archives: RAIN CODE Chapter 3

Probably should have put this up a lot sooner. I blame Trails Into Reverie coming out and work in general leaving me feeling drained.

I'd say that so far this is probably the "weakest" chapter, and I can best describe it as "actionized". There's a lot of elements that make sense why they are here, but is stuff that I generally don't personally enjoy. The first part is that, because of the framing device of this chapter, there's a LOT of Quick Time Evens this chapter. I...don't really love QTEs, especially when they involve either shoulder buttons that you probably don't use very often (not an issue here, thankfully) or with joystick movements where moving left could easily be read as moving down (which is an issue here). I understand that reallyit's meant to play into he Forte of Fubuki, Yuma's partner for the chapter; each failure is technically canon, because Fubuki resets the failure with her Time Leap Forte. But that doesn't change the fact that I have to do QTE after QTE.

Speaking of Fubuki, she's probably the least helpful of the partners so far. Halara was clearly solving the Chapter 1 Labyrinth without difficulty, and Desuhiko was at least able to follow the thread. Fubuki makes one kind of clever deduction, and even then it's more to just show off her rivalry with Shinigami (who still is over-possessive of Yuma). She stops showing the "Too Dumb to Live" aspects of her personality at least once Time Leap starts coming into play, but the fact is tha she's an action hero in a game where the action hero approach doesn't matter. There's at least one point in the Labyrinth where I felt that it would have been a great point for Fubuki to solve the question, and then Yuma comes up with the supporting evidence, rather than Yuma solving it all on his own. In the end, the major development seems to be more her relationship with Shinigami through the Labyrinth, which I hope comes back but I'm not sure that it will.

The mystery here is a lot...not simpler, exactly, but there's wasn't any particular twists to the Labyrinth this time compared to the last two chapters. I did figure out what actually happened and who the culprit was right before the the final Investigation area, but to be fair I owe that more to my experience with Bruce Willis action movies of all things. At the very least, this time the answer wasn't so much of a tear jerker llike last chapter. I will say that I am notice that this game likes to introduce all of it's chapter suspect pools at once. I didn't know I was looking for a suspect in Chapter 0, Chapter 1 was still early on enough that that much of handholding was understandable, and Chapter 2 framed the suspect introduction better. This chapter, meanwhile, I am suddenly introduced to a group of characters and realize, "oh, these are the suspects this chapter," which is probably wasn't supposed to be thinking at this point.

...Then you get out of the Labyrinth and realize that nothing that you did in the Labyrinth actually mattered. Completing the Labyrinth does not resolve the danger you are in like the previous chapters did, and then it turns out that things were handled off-screen. This is a cool moment for the characters off-sceen, sure, but if you think about it, you realize that if Yuma had not entered the Labyrinth and let time flow as normal, he still would have gotten out of his tight spot and one less person would be dead. So what was the point in the end?

So yeah, probably the weakest of the chapters so far. It looks like we're headed to endgame, though. There's one last partner left, and I do hope that Vivia survives through it.

[iomadachd]

Goodnight, my dearlings! Everything is still queue based as promised. I am working slowly through things but my brain is so very often fried that it's all I can do to stare at the screen. I haven't been able to give as much of myself here or on discord while I'm adjusting to everything.

Your patience is loved and appreciated. I can converse a little bit better on the disco, if we're mutuals, my username is midnight3613. Just let me know who you are when you send a friend request.

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[cursivebloodlines]

so i've still neglected messages because i have been working on replies! managed to get through a decentchunk today so v pleased with that. it would've been more if i didn't get so distracted by screencap hunting LMAO. (no ragrets) oops. i still owe more threads but i'm qutie pleased with my progress today :) it's well after 3am now so i think my body needs bed. sweet dreams lovelies and hopefully i'll do more thingies tomorrowwww :) i am sorry to those waiting on dms from meeeeeee!! i had been letting my drafts build up so needed to get some done! anyway much love. have a nice night &lt;3

also my draft countis not 100% up to date so if anyone's checking dw!! i will update in the am :)

[aonungsmate]

How about some quality time shit while brading Lo'aks hair where he's just so tired of sitting around so he leans against reader or lays down on her lap :3

Love u byeeee

How to Win a Girl's Heart

Lo'ak x Reader [Word Count: 0.7k]

This one's kinda bland, I blame college. Love you azalea<333!! Y'all need to pray for me honestly, there are so many requests I have to go through, college just won't let me lmao.

Warnings: None!

You grew up knowing the two of you would end up being the best of friends, not more than friends. Although you can't say you'd prefer your previous status than the current. You see all of him, as he sees you all the same. You would not know what to do if he were to suddenly disappear from your life, already having barged into every aspect of your life.

Sure, he had his moments but he would not be Lo'ak otherwise. Eywa knows you'd devour even the most poisonous plants for him, even despite knowing the consequences.

“Ow–!”

"Maybe if you stop moving so much, it won't hurt," looping another strand of Lo'ak's hair, you squinted in focus.  As if to prove your point, he tried adjusting his position again only to hiss when you accidentally pulled on his braids, "Why won't you listen to me, my love?".  You paused to crawl and face him, "I’m sorry.. Does it still hurt, Lo’ak?”  

He stared at you through his  eyelashes, a glint of mischief evident on his eyes making you squint back at him.   Wondering just what he’s about to do, you sighed in anticipation knowing his everlasting history with trouble.  You can never say no to him though.   You found that out the hard way when he asked you for courtship.  You don’t think your heart would be able to handle it well if you were to refuse the sole reason as to why it’s beating in the first place.  

The moment he licked his lips you swore you almost went to Eywa.  He’s doing it.  The thing that holds great power over you.  

Dear Eywa, he’s pouting.

Lo’ak is very adventurous, daring.  He could offer you the greatest harvest from the highest tree he could climb and that would not sway you even the slightest.  He could hunt you the biggest sturmbeest, and it would not be enough to make you rethink your prior decisions.  

But the thing he’s currently doing?

You pray to Eywa that she gives you the strength to not smooch him into suffocation.

“Is it working?” he grinned, fangs showing from side to side, making you scoff at him.  Though a smile was granted to him immediately, urging your beloved to lean his weight on you, sliding downwards until his head was exactly snug on your stomach, his shoulders against your crossed legs.  He sighed in satisfaction, tail whisking, lightly brushing against your ankles, “Is there something bothering you?” you asked, worry furrowing your eyebrows when he closed his eyes with a carefree smile.  

“I am just happy to spend time with you, ma (y/n)” the endearment only worsened the growing blush on your cheeks.  You giggled slightly when Lo’ak puckered his lips at you, one eye opening to stare up at you with a knowing glint on his eye.  You rolled your eyes, giving into him, your lips brushing against his in a feathery motion as he cradled your face with his left hand, all five fingers against your face making you grip at his pinky, humming against his soft lips, slightly chapped yet still so soft, softer than the recent threads you have used with Kiri earlier in the day.  

His presence radiates more light than the bioluminescent plants in the night.  For a moment, you swore you could already see the future with him.  Your very own tent with him, same scenery, him lying against your thighs, maybe a tiny Lo’ak or two, squealing in the background, playing with their grandmama and grandpapa.  

Everything you could ever dream of, it’s always Lo’ak, Lo’ak, Lo’ak.

Lo’ak has been there since the beginning, and he will continue to do so until you grow old.

I see you, you spoke lovingly, hands tracing the constellations dotted on his face.  

Your heartbeat fastened at the growing grin he’s showing, his fang playfully biting on your finger.  He nibbled at it slightly harder, making you hiss at him.  Just as you were preparing to chide at him, you almost returned to Eywa  the next moment he spoke.  

“Y’know your dad gave me permission last night” 

“What for?”

“To mate with you.” 

You really hated it when he started wheezing at your wide-eyed blinking, especially when he drops news out of nowhere.  No warnings, nor heads up.  

But really, would he be Lo’ak if he did not have any surprises for you?

[royalwriteroftheuniverse]

Thanks Captain America part 3

part 2 here / next chapter(part 4) wanna be added to the tag list just message me

18+ just incase Kidnapping implied branding on leg Steve being an ass memories crying sadness angst a little bit of of happiness , lawsuit language Steve surrfering, mentions of stalking and harassment 18+ just incase let me know ow if I missed anything . COMMENTS really appreciated as well as reblogs. No reposting publishing .

Previous chapter

I fell asleep I had to. I was waking up.

While my eyes were adjusting to the sudden yet hazy light I heard a soft

"Hi"

I turn "Hi," I said with a smile.

"When'd you get back?"

"Last night, you were sleeping I didnt wanna wake you."

"So you just thought you'd stare at me until I wake up?"

I turn on my stomach and lean on a folded elbow to face him

"No," he brushes some of my messy bedhead and random curls

"I got some sleep too. I just can't stop thinking about you."

"Hey that's mine line."

"No I believe your line is if I had a dime for everyone that said they were Captain America-"

"It was Halloween give me a break why would Captain America dress as Captain America for Halloween anyway it defeats the purpose."

"What if the purpose was to find a girl whose not into Captain America?"

"Hmmmm still not following. You know I was yours before that. And. I am here with you aren't I?"

"Well yea"

"But those tights do wonders for your Ass."

"That's it Missy you're getting punished."

I fake a incredulous gasp "am I?"

He rolls on top of me.

"Oh you are" he kisses me,

"I love you, so much you know that right?

I hate every second I'm away."

"Yeasure you're just saying that because you have the upper hand here."

His eyebrows pinched together and his eyes were so intense and sweet as he stared.

"No. I mean it. I love you. Why do you think I'm here? The minute we landed. My tact suits' right there. You wanna check the draws or maybe my toothbrush and body wash?"

He laughed into my neck and I giggled.

"Ok okay." My smile faded- something felt off.

"You believe me now baby? How much I love you."

"Yea.”

“How about we go for a walk today."

"But you said-"

"The trail."

"Hmm am I the only one who knows about 'sides you and some odd 90 or 100 year old."

"Yea only you."

"I love you," I threaded my hand through his soft hair. "How about we stay here all day?"

"Come on baby you need sun you were just saying that."

"I was?"

"Yea. You're getting too pale inside for far too long," he peppered kisses on my face. "You need fresh air. You dont get enough and we'll sit under our tree just you and me what do you say?"

He leaned forward putting his forearms crossed and near my collarbone. But he was pressing too much weight on me.

"Steve, you're hurting me.” He was moving it was like he was pressing down harder.

“Steve come on its not funny" it was like he was pinning me down

"Dont you love me?"

It was like me was pinning me down and the man weighs a ton

"What?"

I think his nails were going into my skin.

"Steve stop I don't- Steve?" I shot up sweating I heard laughing outside the door and a steering pain on my calf. And something Dripping.

"Its just sweat" I told myself "just sweat and I must have somehow caught my skin on the bed frame. It wasnt blood it wasnt a burning pain like from a cutling iron or brand- it was sweat and I hurt it on the bed frame." I pulled the blanket up to my neck I didn't look. I never looked.

I remeber that day most of it most of that dream was real. I remember I said why don't we stay here all day and he said you need some vitamin D and I couldn't hold back my laughter at his innocent remark.

But we did go on the trail he held me under thris giant oak tree. He told me my hair looked golden under the sun he even took a picture of me on his work phone. He never did that before. It was a fun day actually. I kept crumbling the leaves next to me on the ground. Steve asked me why I kept doing it. I told him I just thought it was fascinating hoe they were so sturdy and look sturdy and they fall to the ground complete but the tiniest extra push and they just crumble to dust. He grabbed my hands and said "mnmmn no dust no darkness only sunshine for my golden girl." Kissing me. Every kiss me gave me got giggle which was "his favorite classic tune " so that frankly went a long time, but I loved that day.I was so happy.

I still don't understand what he meant by that sunshine and golden girl. Its obvious I wasnt. I'm stuck in here. If he cared he would have found me.

I dreamt of that day that night. It was perfect just like I remember. When I woke up I cried. I mourned my new life, the lies I was told, the harted that filled me and my heart. How could it not. Steve never let anyone be held this long. Any agent he always found within days. Its been what two weeks. I only prayed for Hayden that he wasn't being blamed. But maybe he didn't notice I was gone. Maybe no one did. I hoped that no one got hurt because of me, well no one but Steve. I missed out on love.

----------------------------------------------

"Steve you need to sleep." Buck stood in the doorway with Nat

“I can't every time I sleep I dream of her of us and then it turns sour every time to me I betrayed her. Every moment with Rachel.I wish it was Rachel who was taken. Does that make me a horrible person.”

"Yes" Natasha thought.

"Why does it have to be the girl I love so much. She keeps getting taken from me. Why? Why am I being punished."

"because you're a bastered. Ever think if you weren't so obsessed with her and following her no one would've though oh thats Captain America's girlfriend. Maybe they would have left her alone. Ever thought that's why she was taken if she meant that much to you you should've had her shadowed for longer. If she meant that much to you you would have told us about her just like ever other girl you liked." Nat thought. She didn't say it even though she wanted to. He was doing a great job of punishing himself.

Then the Lawyers stormed through the doors. Apprently the night guard slept through them flying up the elevators.

It was a suppona from Hayden's father and lawfirm sappening every single document pertaining to the threats and disappearance. As well as Steve Rogers' cell phone pertaining to a stalking and harassment charge being brought against him. His cell phone was on the table. It was seized before Steve got a chance to crush it. He'd be found guilty he knew. He had tons if pictures of her after they broke ups. Ones he shouldn't have had. But Steve knew her routine he missed her so he followed her daily hoping to be able to talk to her- Is that so wrong? Apprently a grand jury thought so. And so did everyone else

Tony's lawyers were able to easily prove that Steve was the best chance at getting her back. While The Avengers could do it without him the stupid super soilder would run through hell fire and get riddled with bullets to get her back. Tony knew they all knew. Even Hayden knew. So the stipulation was that once she was found and safelt back on the QuinnJet that was if she was found the restraining order would come into play. Granted, it would be a little tricky inside the tower but everyone knew Tony had the best doctors and facilities. And she deserved the best. Tony had promise that Steve would keep his distance and if anything was to occur she would never be alone with Steve. And of course Tony's A.I. would keep track of them both. But it was all what if's and thens because if she didn't come back it didn't mean a thing. Everyone was trying to pitch in but Steve was even protective of this... HE wanted her back with was HIS fault so HE had to fix it. But the longer the time passed the harder it would be. Even Tony stop his teasing.. The most they could hope for now was that she was being taken care of properly treated properly so she could flaunt her as a hostage or that it was quick and painless.

Next chapter(Chapter 4)

Taglist if u want to be added let me know

@nana1000night @sapphire-rogers @hawkeyes-queen @patzammit @sparklybarbarianninja

[hourcat]

Your posts are so funny with your tags. I am laughing! But it gave me a prompt idea too. Basically chain/cross porn but without the porn. Keep it PG-13, kids!

HELLO BESTIE THANK YOU FOR THIS PROMPT!!!!! i definitely took a more alternative route than u probably intended lol BUT. my piarlie duty to write cross fic has been completed <3 and like....ok....so it's a little blasphemous at the end but....hm....im going to hell already so like. o well!

enjoyyyyyyyyy

(word count: 2,186)

“I win again,” Charles cackles, dropping his controller to the carpet as Pierre huffs beside him. He gently kicks at his best friend’s knee. “You literally have had a week to practice, Pierrot, you knew what we would be doing when you got here.”

Pierre grunts, amused. “I knew what else we would be doing when I got here,” he points out. “Some of us think about more than Call of Duty on vacation, you know.”

Charles snorts, shaking his head as he reaches down to retrieve his controller once again. “Yeah, like sex,” he deadpans, and Pierre just cackles. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“You say that like it doesn’t benefit you personally,” he mumbles. Charles just ignores him in favor of focusing on starting a new game. “You enjoy killing me way too much, Charlito.”

Charles laughs, clicking buttons that Pierre is no longer focused on. “You’re just a sore loser,” he insists, kicking at Pierre again, and that’s it—Pierre jumps him, wrangling him successfully for a moment to steal the controller from out of his hands. “Pierre!”

“We’ll see who the sore loser is, huh?” he laughs, feeling the way Charles’ shoulders are shaking against him in his own amusement. With one arm hooked under his shoulder, Pierre uses the other to swat at Charles’ right hand until the Xbox controller finally falls from out of his white-knuckled grip, drawing a yelp from his best friend.

“You are a fucking cheater—” both hands freed, now, Charles twists under Pierre’s grasp and fights back, fingers bunched in his shirt and digging into his shoulder. It’s amusingly familiar to what Pierre had actually planned for: Charles grunting under him, hands pressed flat to his chest, laughter bubbling right into Pierre’s ear.

It’s just a little different. “I thought you worked out,” he taunts, and Charles grunts as he catches Pierre in a half-formed chokehold. “You are really—oof—"

In his surge upwards, the mess of Charles’ summer hair has caught the gold cross that hangs Pierre’s neck. “Ow.”

“Ah, shit—” Pierre tugs a little and earns a hiss from his boyfriend, who’s now stilled under his grasp. “Okay, okay, truce, mon cheri,” he mumbles, and Charles nods gently, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Okay, easy, let me—don’t move, let me just. I can unhook this, just—” with one hand, he threads his fingers through Charles’ hair, petting a little at his scalp. “Just be patient.”

“Pierre, this should not take this long—”

“Maybe you should’ve gotten a haircut before I came, hm—” he presses down into Charles’ head and uses his free hand to twist the gold cross from the lock of hair it’d gotten coiled around. Fortunately for the both of them, Charles’ hair isn’t densely curly—it only takes a gentle pull after being mostly freed up, and Pierre almost tumbles backwards onto the couch as Charles twists away from him in relief. “There, there we go.”

Charles tosses him a scowl, although it breaks into a smile almost immediately. “And you say I am the one trying to kill you.” He rubs at his head in mock-hurt, pouting at Pierre as he scoots back into Charles’ space. Like he doesn’t love this when Pierre gets a hold of him. “Why don’t you get that chain shortened? It would probably do less damage.”

“That would mean I’d have to take it off, Charles.” He tugs at it casually, shakes his head. Charles raises an eyebrow at him. “Besides—this way, it’s as close to my heart as it can be without it being a crime against fashion.” He cracks a smile, although it’s not really meant to be that funny. The chain is a perfect length, if he’s being honest—it sits right at the center of his chest without being unbearably dramatic. Any longer and he’d run the risk of being a fifty-something woman trying to accessorize—anything shorter and he’s moving towards choker territory, which is a little blasphemous.

“And because I can put it between my teeth when you fuck me.” Charles’ grin is catlike as he says it, braced against the couch invitingly. And, well—he’s right, of course, because there is nothing prettier than Charles glistening in sweat, light catching on the cross between his teeth, making pretty breathy noises as Pierre fucks into him again and again.

But he can’t actually admit that. It feels like a violation of a couple pretty cardinal rules in Catholicism. “That is incredibly inappropriate, Charles,” he says, mock-chastising. Charles sticks his tongue out but wiggles closer to him, elbow digging into his side. “You are so…” he ducks in a little, presses a barely-there kiss under Charles’ ear. “Mmmmm, maybe tonight.”

Charles giggles, turning towards Pierre so that their noses bump. “What are you, a Valentine’s candy?”

“Mmm, you do think I am sweet,” he purrs. “So maybe.”

Charles laughs, nuzzles at him again. “Disgusting,” he teases. But he curls a little closer to Pierre anyway, head leaning into his shoulder. Their game is forgotten—the colors flash across the screen in Pierre’s peripherals but he’s got an entirely different focus, now. He presses another kiss to Charles’ head, then combs through his tussle of curls again, drawing a quiet noise of pleasure from him. Charles burrows even closer, snaking a hand up Pierre’s chest.

His fingers close around the cross hanging at Pierre’s neck, though. “Pierrot,” he murmurs after a beat of comfortable silence. The night has filled Charles’ bedroom almost entirely, now, streetlights glittering distantly below them.

“Mmm?”

Charles makes another soft noise and thumbs at the gold-plated cross in his fingers. “Do you pray for me?”

Huh. A question he hadn’t necessarily expected out of him, but it’s not like they haven’t talked about this before. Pierre is more than religious enough for the both of them. “All the time, cher,” he chuckles, planting another aimless kiss somewhere on the exposed skin within his reach. “Why do you ask?”

Charles hums contemplatively as Pierre’s mouth traces languidly across his skin. “Can you show me how?”

The Frenchman pauses his half-formed assault on Charles’ neck. “Of course I can,” he answers after a beat, running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “Of course, mon cheri.” He covers Charles’ hand with his own, thumbs at his knuckles. “First, I put the crucifix to my lips once.” Pierre purses his lips a little, a mock-kissy face, and Charles laughs under his breath.

But he does as Pierre says nonetheless; their fingers brush as he lifts Pierre’s cross to his mouth and kisses it once, a small smile on his face. Something warm curls in his chest at the sight—at Charles’ eyelids fluttered closed ever-so-slightly, attention entirely on Pierre. It’s not burning desire, not like usual when he has Charles this close; it feels like something deeper.

Like Pierre has never been closer to God than he is right here.

“And then?” Charles’ voice is barely a whisper, gaze still entirely fixated on him.

Pierre returns to his body, then. “Ah,” he chuckles, “so you are serious.”

Charles’ eyebrows knit together. “Of course I am serious, Pierrot.” He tsks. “Now tell me what next.”

Something swells in his chest at the devotion in Charles’ voice. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay, mon cheri, just repeat after me.” Charles nods imperceptibly. Pierre closes his eyes, turns his head up a little like he always does sitting in the back pews during church. “Lord, please watch over Charles today.”

Charles’ voice is quiet as he echoes Pierre’s words. “Lord, please watch over Pierre today.”

Pierre’s eyes open, at that—but Charles is steadfast in his mimicking of Pierre, his own eyes closed, head lifted. That warmth in his chest seems to stretch wider. “Keep him steady in your hands, let him drive without burden.”

At that, another soft laugh tumbles from Charles’ mouth, although he clearly doesn’t mean to. “Keep him steady in your hands, let him drive without burden.”

Pierre can’t keep his eyes shut any longer, though—quieter moments like this with Charles are rare, and Pierre himself is nothing if not indulgent. “Let him fly with the wind without fear of falling, for you will catch him.” Charles echoes him, fingers still curled around the cross. “Remind him You will catch him, Lord, so that he will always know safety in Your hands.” Charles’ face softens as he repeats this, too; mouth curved upwards ever-so-slightly, he says the words and Pierre can feel the way they’re meant for him. That Charles is praying for him. “Let him always know Your love. Let him feel the sun on his skin and know it is You, Lord, watching over him.”

Charles rests his free hand on Pierre's knee, tender, as he repeats the words back.

"Amen," Pierre whispers, throat tight with emotion. Charles is beautiful, so beautiful like this—the low light of his living room casting a heavenly glow around him, making him look like the angel Pierre often thinks of him as. He looks born for Catholicism—something he’s teased his boyfriend about a lot over the years, how he has the guilt and the cheekbones to belong in a church sculpture. Pierre loves every piece of him, always; but here and now, with his own hand cradled on Charles’ still clutching at the crucifix hanging around his neck, Pierre thinks this is something beyond anything they’ve shared before.

Charles’ eyes open slowly, like he can tell Pierre is analyzing him. "Amen," he echoes, kissing the cross again and catching Pierre’s fingertip in the process. The action isn’t seductive or sexy, not by any means—but full of love. His eyes are sparkling with it.

Pierre is breathless with the knowledge. Speechless, almost—at how earnest Charles is, how earnest this all has been.

A reminder, of sorts, that Charles is watching out for him, too.

Pierre can’t help himself—the moment their eyes lock, he closes the short distance between them and kisses Charles full on the mouth. There’s no heat driving him, no dangerous instinct to rip off his sweats and take him here on the couch: just mindless affection.

Charles kisses him back easily, of course, like always—pliant, soft, he makes a soft noise against Pierre’s mouth as he opens up, tongue swiping across Pierre’s bottom lip languidly. “Mmmm,” he murmurs as they part for a breath, eyes still closed. “Pierrot, is this how all prayers end.”

Pierre laughs quietly, chasing his mouth once again. “Oh, yes,” he teases, biting at Charles’ bottom lip a little before dropping a kiss to the drawn bow of his mouth. “We Catholics are very slutty at church, you know.”

Charles breaks away from his mouth to laugh loudly. “And you said I was being blasphemous!” He exclaims, face pink. Pierre shrugs, unable to swallow the grin Charles seems to always draw out in him.

“You are not Catholic, mon cheri, I am—it is a perk of the church,” he insists, and Charles slaps his chest at the blatant lie. “Okay, okay, fine.”

“You are unbelievable,” his boyfriend chuckles, pressing his hand a little more just over Pierre’s heart. The crucifix digs into his skin at the contact even through his shirt, but Pierre can’t really be bothered to care. Charles leans forward again, catches him in another kiss. He’s warm, he’s firm, he’s so perfectly fitted against Pierre’s body even here on Charles’ not-quite-comfortable loveseat. His leg is hooked over both of Pierre’s, somehow, keeping them locked together—in a moment he’s all but entirely straddled in Pierre’s lap, still kissing him languidly, palm flat against the cross and warm over Pierre’s heart.

“Charles,” he mumbles between exchanges, and Charles mutters something against his skin as he trails kisses across Pierre’s jaw.

“Mmm?”

“I am not going to fuck you on the couch.”

Charles sags on him, face now entirely buried in the crook of Pierre’s neck. “Mean,” he pouts. Pierre can feel the warm heat of it right at his pulse and swallows, hard.

“We literally just prayed together, calamar.”

“So?” Charles’ grin is cheeky, and he rocks a little into Pierre’s hips to clearly tease. “You do not seem to be that against it.”

Pierre groans. “Please, mon chat, you are making this so difficult.” He rests a hand on Charles’ lower back, stroking him a little through his thin white t-shirt. “Let us cool down—and I—” he chokes on the rest of his sentence as Charles kisses at his neck, pout now turning dangerous the way it always seems to. “Later. Later, I pro—” Charles sinks his teeth in, pushing all of Pierre’s buttons at once like a child in an elevator. God dammit. “Fuck, you are impossible.”

Charles bites at the chain around Pierre’s neck. “You love me,” he mumbles, teeth bared.

He does. “Come here, Charlito. We can call this—fuck—we can call this communion.” Pierre slips the cross between Charles’ teeth. Charles whines.

Oh, he is so going to hell for this.

[agentofscifi]

Success is the Best Kind of Revenge Ch. 3

Heels click onto the floor of my office as Chloe pushes open my doors. My hands were currently holding up the train of a dress hung on Juleka. Alix follows after Chloe, tinkering with some kind of camera in her hand. Over the years, as we all graduated from University and done pretty well for ourselves.  

Juleka ended up changing her major in school after three semesters. Instead of going into performing arts for instruments, she went and got a composition degree. Juleka wrote music for a variety of artists and was one of the most sought-after songwriters. When she wasn’t doing all of that, she was modeling for my company. Juleka did a variety of photoshoots for several companies, mine included throughout her University Years. After I opened up my first few stores, we signed a formal contract. She’d been working for me for almost a decade. She split her time between Paris and Nashville in America. 

Alix decides to focus on a degree in art history. She worked at an Auction House company in Paris, moving between the various countries of Europe to authenticate pieces of art and then handle their sales. She was rather successful at her work, earning many bonuses for rather extremely successful sales. Alix’s unique style and comfortable professionalism made her easily approachable to buyings. She was rather blunt, and it did her well in her job. On her off-hours, Alix did some minor modeling and promoting much of my athletic pieces. Alix’s popularity grew as she competed in several X-Games in and after university. She won several titles in skateboarding, BMX freestyling, rollerskating, and snowboarding before retiring after a slip-up when snowboarding. She shattered her kneecap, broke a leg, her collarbone, and dislocated her arm in two places. She still did BMX biking, skateboarding, rollerblading, and snowboarding, just not in a professional capacity. That being said, little kids still asked for her autographs all the time.  

Chloe graduated from the London Business School with Honors and then proceeded to attend the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York to get a Graduate Degree in Global Fashion Management. She modeled some of my designs, worked connections, handled all my brand’s social media accounts, and finalized contracts. Now, she had several people working underneath her, to handle the day-to-day operations. Either way, Chloe handled all of the Brand’s business dealings and flourishes.  

As for me, I attend the London College of Fashion. I got a Bachelor’s Degree in Fashion Design and Development with honors. After those years, I went to Milan to attend Istituto Marangoni International for a Master’s Degree in Luxury Accessories Design & Management. After that, I relocated back to Paris. My first boutique opened up quickly after that along with a small factory with a loan from a bank. I ended up having to open a second factory within three months due to demands. More boutiques opened up worldwide as the Brand became a household name.  

“Hello Chloe, how is everything?”  

“We got invitations to a reunion for Lycée. Alya sent them, as she was the class representative when we all graduated. Personally, I think she wants to get her hands on you or Juleka for an interview. You know her journalism career is in the gutter.”  

Alix snorts. “And who’s fault is that?” 

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Her’s. The idiot ruined her blog when she was a teenager and she never changed. She still does idiotic and frankly dangerous things to get a scoop. Sure, she does some basic research now, but the girl’s been detained several times for endangering people and disrupting the peace. No University would touch her, and no place will hire her.”  

Alix looks up from the camera. “So, you didn’t inform everyone in the fashion journalism world about her history, knowing it would spread to all major news and journalism networks.  

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Look, this company’s image is important. I was not going to let Miss Blogger ruin it for 15 minutes of fame. She dug her own grave.”  

I sigh. “This is great and all, but are you all going?”  

There’s a snort right behind me. “Not on any of our lives. We will not be sinking that low.”  

“Chloe!” Juleka’s face is red and slightly scandalized.  

“What? Why would we go to this reunion? To see how everyone is doing? It’s rather simple. Alya’s a tabloid writer. Nino is a barely successful DJ who works at a music store to help pay his bills. Max is an IT guy at a company. That fake research paper haunts him to this day. Kim works at a gym. The drugs screwed his athletic chances over and he never planned for anything beyond going to the Olympics. Nathaniel works at an art store and does nighttime classes. He’s unsuccessfully worked with 7 different writers for his comics after leaving Marc.   

Now, Myléne and Ivan are happy, at least. Myléne works as a secretary and Ivan as a grocery store manager. Both are part-time so one of them can stay home with their kids at a time. They have millions of photos of their family on their Instagram accounts. Neither one can do much with charities. The fraud they committed was spread around the charity communities fast.  

Rose, Adrien, and Sabrina are the only ones who did what they wanted to do. Rose had a few years of fame with her music before getting married and settling down as a youth music teacher. Adrien moved to America and works for a University. However, I know for a fact that he will not be returning to Paris for anything less than a funeral or a wedding. As for Sabrina, after some therapy, ended up as a Detective in Marseille.”  

“Didn’t you pay for her therapy?” I tie off my last stitch and let the train fall to the platform.  

Chloe purses her lips. “I owed her that much. I screwed her childhood up, majorly.”  

“Did you stalk everyone to find out all of this?” Alix has a mischievous look.  

Another eye roll from Chloe. “I didn’t need to. In this day and age, all you need to do is type their name into the internet and all of their social media pops up.”  

I hum. “What about Lila?”  

“She’s still in prison. Tried another appeal a little while ago, to no avail. Her long list of offenses and the “assisting a terrorist” change isn’t something any judge would want to touch, even with a 10 ft pole.”  

Juleka simply shrugs. “Back to the point at hand. I’m not going to this reunion. Rose is the only one I wanted to keep in contact with, and she’s not going. It’s her five-year anniversary with her husband. She’s going to Spain that week.”  

Alix shugs. “I’m not going either. Kim has tried to contact me so many times to help him get back into the sports world. I am not giving him another chance. Besides, there’s this huge auction going on in Russia for that week. I am not missing that for a few hours with our childhood classmates.”  

I look at Chloe. She raises a perfect eyebrow. “Not a chance and you are not going either. Heavens forbid Alya posts something on that new blog of hers.”  

I set my needle and thread down on a work table and gesture to Juleka to get changed. “I’m not going if none of you are. Besides, there’s this fashion show in Milan that weekend. It’s for freshly graduated designers to show off their talents to possible employers. I was planning to go to find some who would specialize in Fashion Contour. I’ve been doing quite a bit of work in that field and want to get a fresh pair of eyes that will eventually take over that area of our brand. I was also hoping to look for someone to start a Make-up department. One of your people mentioned the idea at a meeting.”  

Chloe nods and starts to type into her phone. “I’ll tell my assistant to look through the applications we have to see if anyone fulfills the requirements for that job. Just find that new department head.”  

I give Chloe a nod as Juleka hands me the dress from before. A custom-made wedding dress for a woman who happened to be Juleka’s exact size. One of the many I had made of the years since I’d started my fashion business.   

Some part of me wanted to thank Lila. If I was honest with myself, I wouldn’t be where I was if she hadn’t arrived at my class and taken everyone’s loyalty. They weren’t bad people, but thanks to Ms. Bustier, they were a drain on my energy and abilities. Now, however, I was one of the most well-known and successful fashion designers with over two dozen people for me in Design. I could not be happier. 

Ch. 1 ~~~~~ Ch. 2

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 3 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Hey gang, I wanted to give y’all another update this week because I know there wasn’t a lot of hotch in the last chapter. This is a long one! 

Read previous chapters here!

wordcount: 3.6k

warnings: canon-typical harassment and violence, swearing

tagging: @the-modernmary @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @wanniiieeee

It’s closer to the afternoon than the morning when you finally get out of bed the next day. Aaron had set you up in his guest room before going to bed himself, and had dutifully woken you up every two hours. You emerged into the kitchen to see him sitting at the table with his laptop open, surely working even though he was technically out on sick leave. 

“Good morning” he says when he sees you appear in the doorway. “The coffee’s still hot, if you want some. I don’t have any RedBull, though.” 

You rolled your eyes as you crossed the kitchen to make yourself a cup. “Is it still morning? It feels like I must have slept through the whole day.”

“Well, you needed it. Long night.” He tells you, and you let out a little hum in response. “Hey, uh. Your cell phone is on the counter. It was making a lot of noise and I didn’t want it to wake you.” he admits sheepishly. “I didn’t read anything, but Josh’s name popped up a lot.”

You pouted a little. “I guess I did kind of just disappear. I probably owe him an explanation,” you said, crossing the kitchen and picking your phone up.

“You don’t owe him a god damned thing.” Hotch said a little harshly, but you knew his tone wasn’t aimed towards you. 

You powered your phone on-- Hotch must have turned it on after he took it. 13 missed calls and 27 texts, sheesh. Not all of them are from Josh, thankfully. You shoot a quick text back to JJ, Garcia and Emily, who had all individually checked in when you didn’t show up at the office. With a little more trepidation, you opened up your thread with Josh. 

“Where are you?”

“You never came to bed last night.”

“Off fucking the boss man?”

 “Did I catch you before you got down to anything good?”

“Fucking slut.”

“Couldn’t even finish cleaning the carpet before you left.”

“Fucking answer me.”

“Did I bash your skull so hard that you forgot to pack my lunch before you left?”

“This is ridiculous.’

“So you’re just running away?”

“Don’t be such a baby.” 

“You are so in for it when you get home.”

“I should have killed you.”

There’s more, but you’re not sure you can stomach it. You drop your phone to the counter, swallowing back a bit of bile that has risen up from your stomach. Aaron is at your side in an instant. 

“Can I look?” He asked quietly. He’s looking you right in the eye but you feel like you can’t see him at all, like he’s not really there. You must have nodded your head, because he picked up your phone and started scrolling, but you have no way of knowing how you even told your body to do that. After a moment, he sets your phone face down on the counter, and turns to face you, placing a gentle hand on each of your upper arms. “We are going to figure it out, okay? You’re not in this alone, and I’m not going to let you get hurt again. You did the right thing. You got out. And now you have help.” 

 He’s staring into your eyes as he promises to keep you safe, and the dam breaks. All of the emotions that you’ve bottled up for the last ten hours are flooding through you, and you’re sobbing uncontrollably before you have even recognized how upset you really are. Aaron gathers you up in his arms in an instant, and you wrap your arms around him, crying into his old sweatshirt. 

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let it all out,” he whispers in a mantra, rubbing your back.

You realize in this moment that Aaron is truly your best friend-- you’d always known that you were closer to him than anyone else in the office, and the same was true for him, with the possible exception of Dave. What you hadn’t realized, is that somewhere along the way, your college friendships, your academy friendships, your girlfriends, had all faded into the background, and Aaron became the person you wanted to tell good news to, the person you drew comfort from, and the person you called when you realized you couldn’t get the blood out of the carpet. The realization surprises you, enough to let you get a few deep breaths in and calm yourself down, untucking from Aaron’s shoulder and dabbing at your eyes with your shirt sleeve.

 “Thank you,” you say through your choked voice, even though it could never be enough.

“How’s your head?” He asked, looking over the top of your head to the clock on the stove to see if it was time for you to have more pain meds.  

“Ah, well, I don’t think the crying really helped.” You shrugged, attempting to bring some levity back to the situation as you picked your phone back up. 

“What are you doing?” Hotch asked, eyeing you and the phone. 

“I’m calling Josh back.” You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Okay, now I’m sure you hit your head,” he said, swiping the phone out of your hand before you could place a call.

“Hotch--” 

 “Can you at least tell me why you want to do this?” He said, and you can see the concern etched into his face. 

“I’ve got to go back at some point. I’m sure it’ll be easier for him to cool off if I’m not completely ignoring him in the meantime.”

“Go back? What are you talking about?” Aaron asked

“I live there, Hotchner. I can’t avoid him forever. Even if I move--”

“You’ll stay here. For as long as necessary. It’s not safe for you to go back there.” He says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Do I get a say in this at all?” 

“Not if your only defense is that you don’t want someone else to take care of you. Because right now you need caring for, and I’m not letting you talk your way out of it.” Hotch said resolutely, and you sighed. The silence lingers for a moment before you speak up again, quietly. 

“I could use some more pain meds.” You admitted. 

“You shouldn’t take these on an empty stomach. Let’s get you some toast, drink your coffee to clear up your sinuses and then you can take your next dose and go back to bed.” 

“Hotch, the day’s half over. I can’t go back to bed.” You argued, with significantly less heat behind it, lifting the steaming mug of coffee up to your face at his suggestion. 

“It’s a sick day. You’re injured. You’re supposed to rest all day and let your body heal. You won’t be arguing with me once you’ve taken the pills.”

Hotch had tried to get you to take the rest of the week off, but you couldn’t stand the thought of sitting around in his apartment doing nothing. You also knew that an extended absence would catch the attention of your teammates-- and you weren’t sure if you were ready to share all of this with them yet. That was why you were perched in front of the mirror in Hotch’s guest room, liberally applying concealer and powder to your healing black eye. Aaron had made you promise to take it easy, and you already know he’d have eyes on you all day to make sure you weren’t overdoing it. No need to attract any more attention. There’s a soft knock from the hall. 

“Come in,” you called.

“Hey,” Hotch said, swinging open the door. “We’ve got to leave in a few minutes.” 

“I’ll be ready,” you assured him, dipping your brush into the powder before brushing it over your nose and cheekbone, wincing a little. 

“When did you learn to do that?” Hotch asked softly.

“Hotch…” You responded softly. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t need to answer that.” He apologized, averting his gaze to the floor.

“If I answer, are you going to stop blaming yourself for not noticing?”

“I can’t promise you that.” He shakes his head. 

“I wasn’t… I’m not a battered woman, Hotch.” 

“Of course you aren’t.” He’s quick to affirm you, to make sure you know he doesn’t see you as a victim.

“No, I mean, this was excessive. Was he rough? Sure. Did he leave marks? Yeah, he did. But I wasn’t getting tossed around and beaten like that. He’s not really like that, normally. He was just drunk, I think.” 

“You’re not seriously making excuses for him, are you?” Hotch asked, and suddenly you’re indignant, even though you know he’s right.

“He had a bad night.” You protest weakly. 

“He almost killed you!” Aaron raised his voice, just a tad.

“He was just trying to scare me.” You countered. 

“He was escalating. I know that you know that,” Hotch said, searching your face, looking for something to profile. You didn’t blame him, you knew your behavior was erratic. You draw a deep breath, your chin quivering as your eyes welled up. 

“It worked. I’m scared.” You squeaked out, trying not to let the tears fall and ruin the makeup you’ve worked so hard on. Hotch wrapped you in his arms again and you breathed in deeply, letting his cologne fill your lungs and lull you into a calm.

“You don’t need to be scared. I’ve got your six. I’ve got you.” He reminded you, and you pulled away from him. 

“I don’t think I’m ready to share this with the team yet.” You told him, and he nodded. 

“Like I said, your pace. When you’re ready, you’ll tell them, and if you want my support, I’ll be there. I’m gonna go make us some coffee, meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

You were silly to think that you could hide anything from a group of profilers-- none of them have guessed it, yet, or if they have, they’re too polite to say anything about it, but they’ve certainly noticed something. They surrounded you with concern and peppered you with questions the second you walked into the office, and Hotch’s devotion to making sure you weren’t pushing yourself too hard certainly wasn’t going unnoticed. It was during one of your Unit-Chief-Mandated-Breaks that you snuck into the kitchen to refill your water bottle. Almost silently, JJ slipped in behind you. 

“You know, you can just say the word, and we’ll all stop pestering you.” She says, and you can hear her gentle smile.

“That’s okay. If I call you off, I lose the right to fuss over whoever’s next.” You tried to crack a joke. 

“Good point.” She chuckled. 

“I really am okay, Jayje.” You assured her. 

“No, honey, you aren’t.” She shook her head. “But you’ll tell us when you’re ready, and we’ll support you even if the secret dies with you.” She laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked out of the kitchen together, sharing a small conspiratorial laugh, your heads thrown back as you pass through the doorway. When the ping of the elevator doors opening grabs your attention, you drop your water bottle in shock. 

“You okay?” JJ asks, bending over to pick up your water bottle as he storms through the glass doors of the BAU. 

“You whore!” Josh spat out, catching the attention of the whole bullpen. So much for keeping them out of it.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Morgan asked, rising from his desk immediately. 

“Josh?” Emily says, the first one to recognize him. Your eyes dart around the bullpen, and you spot Reid at his desk phone, no doubt calling security.  

“You fucking bitch!” Josh says, still advancing towards you. Your brain is screaming at you to run but you can’t get your legs to move. It’s a literal childhood nightmare, playing out in the flesh.

“Come on, let’s go back into the kitchen” JJ says softly, her tone betraying none of her fear as she practically shoves you back into the kitchen. You stumble into a chair, and the sound is muted because of the door, but you can still see and hear everything through the glass. Josh takes another step into the bullpen, but Morgan’s in front of him. 

“Turn around and walk out of here, man, because there’s no other way this ends well for you.” Morgan puffs out his chest, trying to stop Josh from looking over his shoulder and seeing you. 

“Not until that slut gives me some fucking answers,” He spits out, and you feel JJ squeeze your hand, but you’re too laser-focused on the scene in front of you to acknowledge her.

“I’m going to give you one more chance to walk away.” Morgan hisses through his teeth, advancing closer to Josh. 

“I’d listen to him if I were you.” Hotch said, suddenly appearing on the other side of Josh. You hadn’t seen him come down the stairs. 

“Ah, good old boss man.’ Josh jeered. “How’s my sloppy seconds? I hope she’s treating you real good seeing as how you stole her right out from under me in the night.”

Without warning, you watch Hotch’s fist connect with Josh’s face. Josh stumbles away, holding his nose, when security comes in through the elevators. 

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” He says, raising his hands in surrender. He turns around to face Hotch once more. “This isn’t over.” He says, bringing his hands back to his nose and following the security officer into the elevator.

There’s a stunned sort of silence that hangs over the unit for a few moments before you hear someone break out into a sob. When you feel JJ’s hand start rubbing across your back, you realize that it came from you. The door flies open and you startle, but when you look up, you see a clouded figure of Hotch through your tear-saturated eyes. 

You hear JJ and Aaron whisper to each other, but you can’t focus enough to hear what they’re saying. Whatever it is, the conversation ends with JJ slipping out of the kitchen just as quietly as she came, and Aaron sliding into the chair across from you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, his voice only just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of your own labored breathing. You nodded, unable to verbally respond. He smoothed his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, taking your hands into his own. “You’re okay, he’s gone. Security knows who he is now, he won’t be allowed back in the building.” He tells you, and you nod again. 

“I’m okay.” You manage to choke out. 

“I need you to take some deep breaths for me, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick.” He asked of you, disarmingly calm, as he modeled the deep cleansing breaths for you. You take a deep, shaky breath in, trying to force the oxygen all the way down into your lungs before letting it back out in a huff. “Good,” he told you. “Good job, sweetheart, keep going.” he encouraged you, tucking a piece of hair that had gotten stuck to your tear-stained cheek behind your ear. When you were finally calm enough to look up at him, you did so. “There you are,” he smiled at you. “You’re okay.” 

“I’m okay. Your hand--”

“I’m okay--” He assured you, but you flipped his hand over in your own anyways. It’s swollen. 

“You need ice.” You said, standing up and crossing to the freezer. 

“You need to sit down before you fall.” Aaron stood up to follow you, shaking his head. 

“I took my deep breaths, Hotch. I’m not an eighty year old woman.” You chastised him as you pulled a few ice cubes out of the freezer, putting them in a plastic bag and wrapping a paper towel around it. 

“My hand is fine.” He argued with you as you pressed the ice pack to his knuckles. 

“You are in absolutely no position to argue with me about letting someone else take care of you, hypocrite.” You fought back, with nothing but concern behind it. 

“Okay, fine, but can you sit down, please.” He begged of you. 

“Don’t I owe the rest of the team an explanation for all of that?” 

“They can wait. Sit down.” He said, and it was no longer a request. You sat down in the seat across from him. “How’s your head?” 

‘It’s been better.” You tell him honestly. 

“Take a few more deep breaths, please.” He tells you, and you roll your eyes. 

“Hotch, I’m--”

“You’re holding your breath. Your shoulders are practically touching your ears. Plus, it would make my hand feel better.” He says, shooting you a grin that would be wholly inappropriate for the situation if it didn’t make you feel so at ease.

You roll your eyes at him in mock-contempt, taking the breaths to appease him and dropping your shoulders. “How is your hand, seriously?” 

“I’m fine. I’ve thrown my fair share of punches.” He smirked at you, still trying to distract you, to lighten the mood. “We can just leave. You must need more pain meds, if not a nap. We don’t have to get into all of it today.” 

“Well, they all basically know now. We should probably just go to clear the air that I’m not sleeping with you for a promotion.”

“If you’re not up to it, we can--”

“No, Hotch.” You stand up, shaking your head at him through a smile. “Let’s go get it over with.” 

 The team, of course, didn’t need you to explain that all of what Josh had said was false. Your integrity and the trust shared between all of you was louder than any stupid asshole that could bluster in through those glass doors. You’d cried all of your makeup off, so your black eye was now fully exposed to the team. Aaron left a protective hand on the small of your back the whole time you spoke, never once speaking over you or interrupting. As soon as you finished, you felt silly for ever thinking you needed to hide this from them-- they were supportive without being pitying, and JJ, Emily and Garcia had wrapped you up in hugs just as soon as you finally got it all off your chest. 

“We’re going to head out, obviously call us if there’s an urgent case notification.” Aaron explained to the team. “You all should feel free to leave as soon as your paperwork is done.”

“Hotch, I’m really fine,” you tried to insist. 

“Are you gonna tell the team they have to keep working?” Aaron quirked an eyebrow at you and you scowled, knowing there was no going back now. “I’m just going to pack some of my stuff up.” He told you, turning back to his office. You followed suit, going to your desk and tidying up. 

“Hey, cupcake.” Morgan whistled to get your attention before crossing the bullpen to get to you. “If I had known--if I had seen that bruise on your face before he walked in here -- I would have taken him down myself. Hotchner showed an... impressive amount of restraint.” He told you with a humorless chuckle. 

“Thank you, Derek. But he’s not worth it, seriously.” You told him with a smile. 

“No, he’s not.” He agreed. “But you are. Don’t you forget that, okay? If you need anything, I’m here.” 

Instead of responding verbally, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. He wrapped his arms around you snugly, crushing you into his chest. It hurt, a little, but the overwhelming security you found with him holding you was far stronger than any pain.

You pulled away and bid your goodnights to the team, following Aaron out to the car taking off towards his apartment. 

“You were really brave back there. I’m proud of you. As your friend, not your boss. Or, I guess as your friend and your boss.” He tells you, taking one hand off the steering wheel to squeeze yours briefly. 

“I didn’t really have much of a choice,” you rolled your eyes with a small smirk. 

“There’s always a choice. You chose to get out, and you chose to let your team in. That’s not nothing.” He told you as he parked the car in front of his place.

 “Thank you,” you said, choosing to accept the compliment even though you didn’t believe him. Aaron saw it in your eyes, but he let it slide. You’d see, eventually.  At her pace, he reminded himself. 

“I was thinking I’d cook tonight. Do you have anything particular in mind?” He asked as you settled into the apartment, hanging up your coats. 

“Aaron Hotchner, you can cook?” You laughed, turning around and beaming at him. He couldn’t help but return your smile. 

“I’m not Dave, but I manage.” He said coyly. 

“I’m sure whatever you make will be delicious.” You told him graciously. “And I’m very excited to try it.”

He tossed you an orange from the bowl of fruit on his counter, and then your pain meds. “Go take a nap.”

“Hotch, I’m---”

“Nope, I don’t want to hear it. I let you spend six hours squinting at screens and paperwork under fluorescents. None of that was good for your head. Go.” 

You rolled your eyes at him goodnaturedly before going to the guest room, stripping your work clothes off in favor of a pair of sweats and an FBI Academy t-shirt. Truth be told, everything that had gone down at work had been exhausting, and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep. 

[jungshook69]

.:☆.°☾.Jealous.☾°.☆.:

DISCLAIMER: This doesn’t represent the members’ actions or the army’s actions in any manner it’s pure fiction. This is an original work, do not copy. The taglist is open if you want. Taglist is now closed.

WORD COUNT: 1358 words

PAIRING/S: Jungkook X female reader

GENRE: Established relationship au ; Oneshot/Imagine

WARNINGS: None

ABOUT: This oneshot is part of a 7 part BTS imagine called “Jealous”. This oneshot is a reaction imagine of how each member would get jealous of their s/o in a given situation.

7 PARTS: Namjoon || Seokjin || Yoongi || Hoseok || Jimin || Taehyung || Jungkook

STATUS: Complete

☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☾☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・

You felt a bead of sweat travel down your forehead as your legs moved at an incredulous rate on the treadmill beneath you. Your chest was heaving and completely drenched in sweat as you tried to keep your staggered breath steady. You shut your eyes close, as you tried to engross yourself in the music blasting through your air pods.

Two minutes later you heard the familiar beeping of the machine underneath you, indicating that your hour on the treadmill was over. You hopped off and turned your attention to the rest of the folks in the gym, disconnecting your air pods simultaneously.

You watch Taehyung, Yoongi and Namjoon lifting kettle bells in the corner, Jimin and Hoseok were still running on the treadmills and lastly Jin was situated on a pec-deck machine, and your boyfriend Jungkook was seated beside the older, lifting dumbbells.

You were their personal fitness trainer and took exercise very seriously. You liked to maintain a healthy lifestyle and were incredibly proud of your toned abs that were sprawled across your abdomen, as you took a quick take of your figure in the gym mirror.

You made your way over to Jin and Jungkook and observed Jin’s figure. Now this may sound a little weird, but you never ogled anyone in the gym. You didn’t look at them with lust. When you were observing someone’s figure, who in this case was Jin in a black tank top, you always kept it professional. Your mind immediately kicked into auto drive as you begin thinking about what machine you would recommend them to work at next.

“You know Jin oppa, you don’t need the pec-deck machine.” You spoke up after a minute of thinking.

You caught Jungkook’s attention too. “What?” Jin spoke up.

“See, you already have pretty broad shoulders like Taehyung, but your shoulders are already pretty uplifted naturally. So this makes it appear as though you’re naturally toned at the chest. And trust me when I say you have a great upper toned figure already. I think you should work on your quads. So I think you should ditch the 25 minutes over here every week and swap it out for 40 minutes on the seated leg press machine.” You state your analysis.

“Okay” Jin said without a complaint, moving to switch spots for the rest of the session. This is what you loved about working with them. They always respected your decision and knew that whatever was being suggested was only to make them a better version of themselves.

You were about to move on to the trio lifting the kettle bells, when Jungkook’s feeble voice stopped you, “Noona, what about me? Do I need to change anything?” he said his eyes sparkling.

That was something you found astonishing about him. How his face represented that of a young teenage boy, his doe eyes sparkling, while his body was that of a muscle man. But recently after you had complimented him on his cute face, he had taken it the wrong way, and had decided to grow his hair out, indulging into man buns, in an attempt to make his face look more manly. You absolutely loved his long black hair, but you had kindly explained to him that he needn’t look all macho all the time to impress you. After understanding the situation he had decided to keep his long hair, as he’d fallen in love his new look.

“Noona?” Jungkook’s soft voice disrupted the array of your thoughts.

“Yeah… no… you don’t need to change anything babe, I think your routine is fine, at least for another month.” You said turning on your heels to move towards the trio in the other corner of the gym.

Before you knew it, you were assessing the three and assigning them their respective machines. You were right in the middle of checking Yoongi’s weight plates so it wouldn’t be too strenuous on his fragile shoulders, when a loud yelp echoed off the walls of the gym followed by a loud thump. You motioned the others to wait as you ran towards the source of the familiar voice.

Your eyes met with the sight of Jungkook’s left hand gripping his right shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth partially open, gasping for air, a pained expression written all over his sweaty face. Your eyes shifted to multiple giant weight plates all on a pile on the floor, having slid of the dumbbell bar.

“What do you think you’re doing?” your voice half-laced with annoyance, half with concern.

“I was just… lifting weights” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah I can see that. But why are they out of your weight class? Why did you add on an extra 10 pounds to the barbell?” you ask.

“I just wanted to try something…”

“Well you can’t just impulsively change your weight class Jungkook. It’s gonna strain your arm muscles. No wonder you got hurt.” You said crouching down to your knees as you tried to move his arm back and forth, checking on his muscle strain.

“I just wanted to improve my frame…”

“Well you can’t do that Jungkook. We follow a level of professionalism here. There’s a reason I’m your personal trainer.” You said sternly. Nothing came in between you and strict professionalism, and Jungkook knew that. It was part of the reason as to why he found you so enticing.

“I- I’m sorry” he said chest heaving.

“You gonna tell me why you really did that babe?” you say in a softer tone. You could tell Jungkook had a hidden intention behind his impulsive action.

“No reason.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit Jeon, tell me…”

“Fine! I got a bit insecure when you were complimenting Jin hyung’s figure, so I wanted to change things up a bit…” he said sighing.

“Gguk, hey look at me…” he immediately looked up to the voice of you calling him by his nickname.

“Listen… please don’t feel insecure… it’s my job to observe and analyze your guys’ figures and ensure you guys remain healthy and fit. And the comments I throw around about your bodies during our sessions are merely to decide what’s the next step to keep you guys in shape. It’s my job Gguk, you need to understand. I am in no way comparing you guys to each other okay?” you said calmly explaining to him.

“Okay…” he said a small smile forming on his lips.

“Promise me you won’t go ahead and do anything impulsive like that again… because if you hurt yourself, your fans are gonna be really upset and worried about you.”

“Yeah…”

“Mr. Jeon Jungkook, I never thought of you as the jealous type.” You said giggling after a short pause, trying to lift the tension in the room.

“Noona… hush” he says his cheeks turning red, as he refused to meet your eyes.

You drank in his flustered and disheveled state as you bent down to his level and thread your fingers through his long black hair. His eyes visibly widened as you closed the proximity between the two of you.

“You have some guts, telling me what to do Gguk…” you said dominating the chiseled man in front of you. You watched as his Adams apple bobbed up and down nervously.

“N-Noona… someone might see us…” he gulps, his breath uneven.

“Let them” you say connecting your lips in a steamy kiss, the fear of being caught, leaving a feeling of excitement shiver through your body. You let your tongue dart out, tracing a warm trail along his soft lips. Just as he opened his mouth to give you the entrance you ever so subtly asked for, you pulled your tongue away, completely disconnecting your lips from his.

You watched his hooded eyes, blown out with lust, flutter open, as he looks at you with his mouth agape.

“Sorry baby, duty calls.” You say standing up, smirking.

“B-But…” you watched his adorable red cheeks as he struggled to form words.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight.” You say winking and walking away to resume your job, leaving Jungkook’s mess of state behind.

☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☾☆.。.:*・°☾.。.:*

A/N: I wanted to try something different and write Y/N as a dom character and the male lead as a sub character. Also I wanted to show that Jungkook is a perfectionist. He wants to be good at everything, and he is, owing to his competitive nature. But I just wanted to make a point that he doesn’t have to be good at everything for us to love him. We all love him no matter what, and that he doesn’t have to strain himself, just to feel loved by us.

Don’t forget to follow @jungshook69​ for more content:) You can check out more works of mine here. Have a great day:)

TAGLIST: @yzkyzkuniverse​

ENDING NOTE: Hey guys! I just wanted to say I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of love my series got. I never expected more than 3 people or so to read my story. But you guys surprised me with the amount of people who liked my series. I just wanted to say a big thank you for the support as it motivates me to work harder and give you guys better works in the future. Sending you all a big virtual hug, stay safe, and I look forward to sharing more of my writing with y’all :)